#but after a few years no one batted an eyelid
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o3o-lapd-o3o · 20 days ago
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spoilers? i don't even know what is or isn't a spoiler anymore.
i like to imagine this is what had to be happening at ithaca during the events between little wolf/we'll be fine and get in the water
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samkerrworshipper · 3 months ago
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underneath the surface
umm so i’m back.. kind of? this fic was a rollercoaster but i hold it very near and dear to my heart. i hope you all enjoy it and find some comfort in it because i definitely do <3
warnings: no warnings just some medical jargon and talks of endometriosis!
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Alexia has always been credited for her attentiveness.
Most people say that it’s the reason she’s such a good captain, and of course, she denies to everybody that she just goofs around less than some of her teammates.
But, inevitably, it’s true, Alexia is a lot more attentive than other people. She pays attention to the small things, the under the surface things, things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.
Although, in her opinion, she doesn’t need to be observant nor attentive to be curious about this one part of your relationship.
It doesn’t take brilliant observation skills to recognise a pattern, from the age of two most people are able to recognise patterns. For a two year old, it’s colours and shapes and different farm animals. For Alexia it’s become an observation.
It’s routine, a pattern, a constant repeat in your relationship that for the first few months she ignored.
Like a broken record constantly repeating itself, every month, without fail, you disappeared for a couple of nights.
Not literally, for those days you’ll retreat of the pitch and inside to the gym but Alexia still sees you everyday, and for the most part, you’ll still go out for coffee with her and go on walks together, but for at least three nights, sometimes up to 7, there are no sleepovers, no late night movie binges, no dinners.
It went unnoticed by Alexia for longer than normal, love was Alexia’s biggest weakness and it subtly impaired her abilities to be as observant as she prided herself.
Who could blame her? It was hard to be detail oriented when she was too busy enjoying the puppy dog love that came from realising that she was so in love with her life with you, even if it was still relatively new.
But, even with her focus partially impaired, it didn’t take a whole lot of skills to recognise the abnormality of what was occurring.
It was particularly abnormal, because for every other day of the month, you spent your nights at Alexia’s. Alexia would even go as far to say that you're pretty much moved into her apartment. Your dog had a bed in her apartment, your training kit and bag had a permanent spot at her door, most of your clothes were now sitting next to Alexia’s in her wardrobe.
Your apartment, for the most part, existed purely for the sake of storing all of your furniture. Alexia had brought up leasing it, you’d been dating for almost a year now and whilst it was a short time to move in with each other, the two of you spent so much time together that to her it made the most sense. Beyond that, it was her way of testing the water, to see if her observation was as real as she began to think it was.
Your immediate denial of the idea confirmed what she had been beginning to think.
Originally, she’d thought that maybe you were overwhelmed from constantly being around Alexia, it was a lot being at training together all day and then heading home to each other.
It didn't make sense though.
When you were together, you were attached at the hip. You were both naturally clingy towards each other and after questioning Mapi about it, as ambiguously as she could, she was backed up in that it wasn’t normal behaviour for an overwhelmed person to be so eager to be so connected.
So, the theory was canned and when the following month the same thing happened, Alexia’s curiosity peaked once again.
She moved onto a theory that maybe it was some kind of homesickness, that you just needed to sleep in your own bed a couple of nights every month.
But not only did you constantly complain about your own apartment and how unhomey it felt in comparison to Alexia’s, it was always the same week every month.
Which should have been the biggest clue, and yet for whatever reason it had completely slipped past Alexia.
It was only when one of the team doctors had approached Alexia about her cycle changing, that it all clicked for her.
Alexia’s period had skipped, and they’d logged it a couple of months ago. Obviously, without noticing, it had been because the two of you had synched up, which made plenty of sense.
Alexia’s period was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t a true bother, just something she had to put up with. In all honesties though, for her, her period was nothing to her, she had hardly any symptoms, her body functioned the exact same way, everything was almost the exact same.
Yet, every month, when apparently your period came around, you happened to disappear for a couple of days. Alexia would have loved to think it was a coincidence, but with her new knowledge, she decided to put it to test.
She wasn’t surprised, when the following month her own period came, a couple of days later you were back to hiding out at your place for a couple of nights.
Like lightwork, when you came back to Alexia, you were the exact same, like nothing had happened, and yet Alexia was certain that there was something being hidden underneath the surface.
A lot of people were insecure about their period, Alexia had grown up in a house full of girls, her period had been anything but stigmatised, and she was grateful for that.
She was self aware enough though to know that not everybody was fortunate enough to have that same experience. She was also aware that unfortunately, sometimes peoples partners could be unaccepting and close minded about those kinds of things.
So, when the following month, Alexia got her period and without fail, four days later you mentioned that you would drive yourself to training so that you could head back to your apartment afterwards, Alexia was already plotting away.
She had time to think about it during video review that day, there wasn’t a lot to focus on then when the team was coming off of a 4-0 win to Atletico and anything that was of importance, aAlexia had already noted when she’d watched the immediately after the game.
It was a sound plan in her mind, chocolate, a heat pack, your favourite italian takeaway, Alexia’s favourite hoodie that you always tried to steal and your favourite blanket from her apartment.
Alexia wanted you to know that you could be just as comfortable in her home, regardless of what was happening. Hopefully, in knowing that, you’d let go of the part of you that was so clearly avoiding Alexia.
Alexia, above being observant, liked to be a problem solver. She liked to take initiative, she liked to fix things.
So, after a shower and a quick snack when she’d returned home, she packed up all of the supplies. On the way to your apartment, which she hadn’t visited in months, she picked up food and then was on her way.
In the early months of your relationship, it had just been easier for the two of you to spend time at Alexia’s because it was closer to the training grounds and more lived in.
Whilst you’d been living in Barcelona now for nearly three years, your home was still in England, and it had been hard for you to fully settle into Barcelona even if it was your home for now.
Alexia knew it, so she’d welcomed you into her home with open arms. It had been heartwarming for her to slowly watch you integrate yourself into Alexia’s life, it made her happier then anything else.
So, she made her mind up that whatever this bump was, she was going to help you get over it, so that she could have all of you, and most importantly so you would feel like Alexia cared.
The feeling that Alexia got as she pulled up next to your car in the lot of your apartment was chilling, in her gut it felt like something was wrong. It was a feeling that set into Alexia's stomach as she stepped out of her car and hurried to collect her things before making her way over to the elevator.
Alexia stays as composed as she can manage, even though on the inside, the worry is starting to set in.
It’s not like theoretically she has anything to worry about, it’s not like this is an abnormal situation, but the weird feeling in Alexia’s stomach is putting her off and the only thing that she can think will make it better is seeing your face.
All Alexia wants to do is wrap you up in her arms for a moment, for her own peace of mind, to stop the off feeling that has been resonating inside of her as she’s tried to get to the bottom of this problem, that’s not really a problem. It’s an inconsistency, and one thing about Alexia is that she doesn’t like inconsistency. She fixes problems, she doesn’t enjoy living life whilst there is something that isn’t quite right, and she needs to make this right.
Alexia knocks at your door quietly, two little raps that she hopes you hear.
When she receives nothing in response, she knocks again, this time a little bit louder.
Alexia waits a few seconds, whilst it’s been a couple of hours since your session there is the off chance that you're in the shower or bath.
After quite a bit of waiting with no noises from the other side of the door, Alexia knocks once more, already pulling her keychain from her pocket and feeling for the spare key to your apartment.
When she finds it, she pulls it up to the lock, waiting just a few more seconds before slotting it into the keyhole and twisting it until it clicks.
The first thing Alexia notices is that your apartment is completely pitch black and if it weren’t for the fact that she saw your car earlier, she might have just left.
Alexia tiptoes her way through the entryway and into your kitchen, it’s hard to see much with all of the blinds pulled shut and none of the lights on, so she blindly feels around for the light switch until she finally finds it and flicks it.
The immediate groan that comes from the direction of your couch definitely does not go unnoticed by Alexia.
“Lights off.”
As fast as she can, Alexia turns the light back off, before curiously tiptoeing over to the edge of your couch.
You’re a lump under a pile of blankets, but she’s able to make out the shape of your body underneath it.
“Hey baby.”
You groan again, and the feeling in Alexia’s stomach only gets worse.
Alexia takes a few steps forwards, assessing you in front of her.
Her hand reaches out tentatively for you, she feels around the mass of blankets until she feels a part of your body underneath the pile of fluff, she follows the lump until she makes her way up to your head.
Your whole body is warm, or the blankets are warm, she isn’t actually quite sure where the blankets end and your body starts.
“Why are you here?”
Your voice is all croaky, and Alexia is certain you must be sick and she’s somehow missed all the symptoms of it.
“I wanted to spend the night with you.”
Alexia’s hand finally finds a bit of skin on your neck and she traces her fingers until she finds your jawline.
“Go home, Ale.”
The sound of your voice is making Alexia antsy, she can’t believe she’s missed the fact that you are sick.
“No, bebita, you’re sick and I’m here to look after you. I have your favourite food and chocolate, we can cuddle up in bed and you can sleep this off. I brought my hoodie for you.”
Alexia turns your head up, so your hair is peaking out of the blanket mound and she can see your squinted eyes.
“I’m not sick, Alexia.”
You keep your eyes crammed shut for the sake of not making the pounding headache you have any worse.
“Bebita, you’re all hot and croaky, it’s okay to be sick, I’m here to look after you.”
If you weren’t working so hard to keep your eyes closed you’d roll them, but that seems like far too much work for right now.
“Alexia I’m not sick, I’m just on my period.”
Alexia’s brow furrows, if your eyes weren’t closed you’d catch it. It’s the same furrow that always happens when Alexia thinks somebody else is wrong and she’s right.
“Bebita, this seems like a little bit more than a period. It’s okay, I’m here.”
You groan and Alexia recoils slightly.
“It’s just my period.”
Your deadpan makes Alexia confused.
“Your period shouldn’t be this bad. Are you having some heatstroke? It’s been warm out today, or are you having a migraine? You need to remember to hydrate.”
Your head is throbbing and Alexia’s theories aren’t helping.
“I have endometriosis Alexia, this is what my period looks like.It’s not fucking heatstroke or a sickness it’s just how my body is..”
Out of everything Alexia had been suspecting, that wasn’t it.
It suddenly dawns on Alexia that she can’t fix what you’ve just told her, she’s standing in front of you completely dumbfounded at what to do in this moment.
Alexia is a problem solver, she finds solutions for the biggest and smallest problems, and yet she doesn’t have a solution for the problem she is being faced with.
“Baby, just go home, the first night for me is always the worst, if I feel better I can hang out with you tomorrow.”
Alexia doesn’t have a solution to the pain you are going through, but she knows she isn’t going to let you suffer alone. The information that you’ve been doing this by yourself for a year now is making Alexia feel like the worst girlfriend ever and she’s going to change that.
“No, bebita, no. I’m staying here tonight, I’m here for you mi vida. Would it make you feel better if we got you into bed or into a bath? What’s going to make you more comfortable? Have you had medication? How about some food?”
When another groan leaves your lips, Alexia becomes aware that she’s approaching this the wrong way.
“How about I go and put the food in your kitchen and you decide what’s going to make you feel best. I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”
Alexia quietly tiptoes back into your kitchen, taking her time to put her things away and pulling two bottles of water from your fridge before making her way back into your living room.
You’ve emerged from your pile by the time she is back, your eyes are still closed but just seeing your face makes Alexia’s nerves settle just a little bit.
“Can we go to my bed, please?”
Alexia smiles at you softly.
“Of course amor, do you want me to carry you or do you think you can walk?”
The apprehension on your face is enough of a answer for Alexia.
She walks over towards you, picking up your blanket fort and body like it’s nothing and gently lifting you up, stepping carefully in the direction of your bedroom.
You groan out at the change of position, nothing feels good at the moment but Alexia’s arms are more comforting than the scratchy material of your couch cushions.
When she makes it to your bed, she lowers you down like you are the most delicate piece of glass, making sure that you’re tucked underneath the sheets before easing you out of your arms.
“Do you need anything? Heat pack? Water? Talk?”
Again, all Alexia’s words do is make the itching pain all over your body ten times worse, it’s all consuming and makes you feel choked.
“Bed, hugs, that’s all I want.”
Alexia is antsy, she wants to make the pain you are in better, she wants to know what to do right now instead of being completely blind in the situation.
“Are you sure? How about some pain relief or a cold compress?”
Alexia is no doctor, and up until five minutes ago she had absolutely no idea about this whole situation and whether she feels like she can admit it or not she’s terrified about it all.
She’s made up her mind that as soon as you're asleep she’s going to go on a deep dive of google searches to get to the bottom of this whole situation, but that will have to wait.
“Alexia, if you want to be here, just get into bed and give me some fucking hugs. I’m not in the mood to be told what to do with my body when I’ve been dealing with this for years, make up your mind of whether you want to be here or not.”
Alexia avoids conflict with you at all costs, she’s earned the title around your football friends of being your puppy dog, because she simply agrees to anything and everything that leaves your lips, and hearing you remotely mad at her makes her crumble.
“Sorry bebita, I’m so sorry, you’re right. I’m here for whatever you need.”
Alexia makes quick work of slipping her shoes off, something she never got around to in the darkness of your entryway.
She follows by taking her socks and outer layers off, stripping down until she’s in her tank top and a pair of old Barcelona training shorts.
Once she’s done she creeps around to the other side of your bed, slipping underneath the covers as subtly as she can manage.
When she’s completely covered, she lies back, unsure of how to approach all of this new information.
“You’re lying like a rigid corpse.”
Alexia gulps, she can see you in her peripherals, you look absolutely exhausted and in the kindest way possible, ten years older with the amount of wrinkles across your skin, bumps and ridges she can only imagine are the tightness holding in all of the struggle that you’re going through underneath the surface.
“Alexia, I’m okay, I’m not dying.”
Alexia knows theoretically that is true, she doesn’t have endometriosis and she’s not close to anybody who does, but she knows what it is. She knows it’s not cancer or something life-threatening, but the depth of the realisation that you’ve been suffering for so long and have kept it from Alexia is slowly pulling her apart at the seams.
You roll over slightly, it causes shocks of pain to go up and down your back and stomach, but you need the comfort as much as Alexia does, even if she isn’t ready to accept it.
She’s going through her process, compartmentalising all of it so she can be the brave and stoic face she always is.
You’re used to it, and you’ve come to realise that even though in these kinds of situations it seems like Alexia needs to be left alone, in reality she needs to be kept close by her nearest and dearest.
So, you worm your way on top of her body, it makes the cramps ten times worse and the nausea takes control of your stomach, forcing somersault after somersault, but when Alexia’s arms reach around you out of instinct it’s worth it.
You’re in pain, your uterus feels like it’s got knives embedded along the lining of it, like there are needles poking in and out of your back and gunshots being fired across your lower abdomen. But you’re well used to it, you’re used to the feeling of needing to throw up from having such intense throbbing pain across your whole core.
You’re used to the pounding headaches and migraines that come naturally from your body being so inflamed and agitated that all the tension eventually spreads to every single inch of your body, from the tips of your fingers to the edges of your toes.
Your head settles on Alexia’s shoulder, and her hand snakes it’s way down to the outside of your thigh, she’s being more cautious than she’s ever been with you and the normal you would probably be heartwarmed by her sweetness but the part of you that is currently seeing the worst kind of stars because of the cramps coursing through your body is just desperate to climb into her bones now that she is here with you.
It’s been ingrained in you since you were a kid that it was best to not bother other people with your weakness, it was your own struggle, your own burden.
You’d kept it from Alexia for this sole purpose, for the purpose that you knew she would take it all on as her problem, that she would try and fix it all and spend all of her time and energy trying to solve it all when you just wanted her to treat you the exact same.
She treated you like a princess everyday, but add a crippling reproductive condition and you knew she’d treat you like a priceless artefact. You were grateful you had a person in your life who would move heaven and earth in such a way for you but it was suffocating sometimes, when you were functioning on a normal level.
It was with those thoughts running rampant in your head that you slipped off into the same light sleep that you were lucky to drift into in these circumstances.
Whilst you drifted off, Alexia was left alone with her own thoughts.
Insecurity wasn’t something Alexia experienced often, she was secure in her body, she is as secure in her football as she has been since her knee injury, she’s secure in her family and up until today she felt completely secure in her relationship.
Now, she doesn’t know how she feels.
She knows that it’s likely you have a good reason to have kept this a secret, or a reason that you’ve justified to yourself. She knows underneath it all, you’re the one who’s secretly been hiding a big insecurity from her and she has no right to be truly mad about it, she’s disappointed that you haven’t felt able to share this with her when it feels like Alexia has bared all of her deepest, boniest secrets with you.
She does what makes sense, she reaches for her phone from her short pocket and begins to google all of the big questions that are swirling around in her mind.
You might have wanted to keep this a secret from Alexia but now that she knows about it she’d be a bad girlfriend if she didn’t educate herself on this.
So, instead of drifting off to sleep, Alexia drifts off into the land of medical journals and words that she doesn’t understand the meaning of but she’s determined to figure out.
You wake up in the morning in less of a state of excruciating suffering, instead of being stuck in a fiery inferno of hell you feel like you're dancing more on the periphery.
Your body is warm, in a way that makes you feel less like your insides are scorching you from the inside and more like you're generally just hot.
It feels like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon as you try to unroll from the blankets that you’d swaddled yourself in the night beforehand in an attempt to try and make yourself feel as small as possible in hopes it would somehow shrink down everything you were feeling.
It’s a feverish dream, and as you recall your night, blotches begin to come back to you and the memory of your girlfriend appearing somewhere along the way makes the dull cramps across the front of your stomach beat in a way that makes you uncomfortably uneasy all over again.
As you assess your surroundings and open your eyes for what feels like the first time in months, you notice that Alexia is no longer in bed with you.
It’s all extremely faint in your head and there is an off chance you’ve dreamt it all up, but the very faint smell of coffee drifting through the air and folded up clothes sitting on the dresser on the wall across from your bed.
You’re feeling less deathly than last night, so you wager your chances with slowly sitting up in your bed, when you don’t feel any different you begin to lift your legs up.
Your muscles ache in the same way they do every time your period comes around, they tweak and they constrict like you’re an eighty year old instead of a twenty something.
It’s rough, it’s uncomfortable and it’s painful but it’s life.
It’s your life, it’s your burden, it’s your problem and knowing that Alexia is now a part of it all makes you queasy in a completely different way.
Your heavy on your feet as you stand up and begin to creep towards the door of your bedroom, with every step every one of your toes grinds against the floorboards. Your heel digs in, your ankles crunch, your body moves in a way that mirrors the way that you are crumbling from within. On these kinds of days, weeks and months, everything hurts. Everything is an effort.
Once you make it to your open door, you steady yourself against it, your nerves are working against you, everything inside of you is actively trying to stop you and you’ll be damned if you let it happen.
You only stand still long enough for it to be classified in your brain as a stall, not a break, not a stop. You can’t stop in times like this, if you stop then you’ll never get going again and that is a whole pit of fuckedupness that you aren’t ready to dive into.
From the door, you try your hardest to tiptoe your way through the hallway to your living space, but it’s impossible in your body.
As you inch closer, the sound of Alexia only becomes more apparent and obvious, and as you creep closer the agitation across your body only gets worse.
As you reach the archway between your hallway and living space, the sight in front of you makes your heart throb and your uterus ache even worse then it already is.
Alexia is swaying in your kitchen, apparently to whatever music she has playing in her head. There is coffee on the counter, accompanied by two bottles of juice and water, like she couldn’t decide what would be best. To accompany the extra drinks is toast, eggs, bacon and pancakes on the stove.
It’s too much.
With the combination of hormones in your bloodstream you’re honestly impressed that you don’t burst into tears.
Alexia’s still here.
Alexia, sweet, loyal Alexia.
You’ve been conditioned to keep all of this a secret, that during this week it’s best to keep yourself and everything you’re going through hidden, for the best of yourself and for everyone around you. Yet, here Alexia is doing way too much for you.
You’re downward spiralling when her voice breaks you out.
“Hey bebe.”
Her voice is close to a coo, the same voice she uses with Irene’s son. You don’t let it affect you in the moment, but you’ll think about the tactic of it later.
“I have food for you, and coffee if you want it, but google told me that sometimes that’s not always good for endometriosis. So I got juice as well, because google also said it might help with inflammation.”
The thought behind it is extremely sweet, and you feel slightly overwhelmed by all of the options.
“You didn’t need to do that for me.”
Alexia frowns, it’s slight and hardly noticeable, but the little wrinkle between her eyebrows is an immediate tell.
“I wanted to, I want to help you, however I can.”
The sentiment behind her words is lost in the sudden shock that you experience as her words settle in, you’ve never met a single person, besides a doctor whose job it was to help you, that gave a shit about this.
When you have no words, Alexia finds some for you.
“I want to talk to you about this, I want to know about it, I want to help you. We’re partners, we do everything together, and I want to do this with you. I don’t want you to lock me out and I don’t want you suffering alone. I’m here for this, I’m here for you to lean on.”
You nod your head, her words feel like a drug, like it’s lifting away some of the pain you’re going through.
“I’m serious, this isn’t something you can hide from me. You looked after me when I hurt my knee and I am here to look after you in the same way when you’re in pain. Bebita?”
Alexia’s hand falls to your side, caressing your hip gently.
“I’m not used to people knowing about this, and I’m even more not used to people caring, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process.”
Alexia’s face softens, and before you can say any other stupid mumbles, she pulls you from the hip into her body. Her arms are warm, and yet oddly they soothe your prickly skin.
You melt into Alexia, you feel like shit but she makes you feel marginally better.
“Coffee, or juice?”
You stifle a giggle that falls from your lips.
“Juice, please.”
Alexia relaxes her arms, taking a step back.
“Can I get you any pain relief, or a new heat pack? Is your headache better?”
Alexia looks at you with so much genuine care that it’s hard to not feel embarrassed.
“Pain relief doesn’t sit well in my stomach on a good day. I save heat packs for when the cramps are really bad or else they don’t have the same effect. My headaches normally are at the end of the day as a result of tension build up during the day.”
Alexia looks as if she’s taking mental note of everything you’ve just told her, for later.
“How about some food, hmm?”
You want to say yes, because Alexia’s clearly gone to so much effort for you, but you know that if you eat this early and then train your stomach contents is going to end up on a pitch or somewhere inconvenient.
“My stomach won’t keep it if we train later, I’m better to eat afterwards.”
Alexia’s brow furrows once again.
“I called the doctor and Pere this morning, we’re both taking today off.”
Everything warm and good about the moment fades, and suddenly all you feel is confusion.
“Why did you do that?”
Alexia steps away from you and retreats into your kitchen, grabbing a glass for you and picking up the bottle of juice that she knows you prefer.
“Because I thought you were dying last night, and you can’t tell me that all of that has just disappeared this morning. You’re struggling and you don’t need to push through pain to prove that you are worthy or good enough. You’re self worth shouldn’t be dictated by you proving to yourself that you can work through a chronic disease. I’m sorry that I didn't notice earlier and that I wasn't there for you earlier but I'm here to advocate for you now.”
You want to tell Alexia that you don’t need an advocate, you can advocate just fine for yourself. But a part of you knows that she doesn’t want to hear it and that part of you is also the part that is crippling from the inside and simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with your girlfriend.
“I train just fine normally.”
Alexia can’t argue that, even though you spend the time in the gym, she’s never heard of anything out of the ordinary occurring.
“But you don’t have to. In fact when I talked to our doctor she told me that she’d been insisting on you being more cautious of your cycle and spending more time resting during it considering your history.”
You roll your eyes, taking the glass of juice Alexia offers you.
Alexia plates up a breakfast that could feed a family of four, but it makes you feel less bad for not eating any of it.
“It’s my body, I know my limits.”
You focus on your glass of juice and not the face Alexia makes at you.
“You know how to continuously meet and exceed your limits, but what about just leaving them and giving yourself some peace. I know nothing about what you are going through, I can only sympathise. But I know this must be incredibly hard and I know you definitely do not give yourself enough grace and definitely don’t care for your needs enough. I’m here for you to confide in, I’ve done my research, I’m prepared to help however you need.”
It’s endearing how clearly prepared Alexia has made herself.
“You’ve done your research, hmm?”
Alexia nods proudly.
“Lots of it. Like about how orgasms can help with cramps.”
She looks like she’s going to say more, but you splutter your juice straight back into your cup, causing her to stop.
Alexia’s always been more open with her sexuality then you are, it’s culturally more acceptable in Spain but she also grew up with it being slightly more normalised.
“Alexia.”
Her grin is broad, like she’s proud that she’s managed to embarrass you.
“It’s true! Although for some people endometriosis can cause pain whilst having sex, so if you’re one of those people then it may not work but if you want to try I’m happy to help, fingers, toys, everything but mouths is on the table.”
Your blush only gets more cemented.
“I’m okay for right now, the thought of any kind of intimacy makes my fallopian tubes ache.”
Alexia nods her head, you are certain that sometime in the future this topic will arise again. Alexia’s rabbit-like sex drive makes it hard to not involve sex in everything you do together.
“Can I ask what your symptoms normally look like?”
Alexia’s lip is caught between her teeth, it’s the first time she’s looked nervous this entire conversation.
“Of course. Normally for me, I get bad pelvic pain which never really goes away, sweats, fever sometimes, cramps everywhere, i bloat, i get quite nauseous and occasionally it can make me moody. Furthermore, it can cause me to have migraines, some joint pain, insomnia, there are other things but those are the main ones. Overall it just makes me drained, i’m more fatigued but I can’t sleep, it makes me feel pretty lifeless.”
Alexia nods, she listens to every single word with so much attention.
“I always assumed the scars on your stomach were from getting your appendix removed, but I’m assuming now it’s a laparoscopy?”
You’re impressed by the level of detail Alexia has gone to for you.
“I have had my appendix removed but also yes, I’ve had two laparoscopy’s and I’m putting off getting my third done.”
Alexia nods.
“Do they make it better?”
You bite your lip before nodding.
“It’s never perfect, but for a bit it definitely makes my symptoms better. I’m putting off getting my next one because the last time I did it put me out of action for two months and it took me a while to get back to where I was. My body is different, it changes you. Before you ask, I’ve tried birth control, I’ve tried IUD’s, I’ve tried other forms of contraception, they all made it impossible for me to play football.”
Alexia shakes her head.
“I wasn’t going to ask you that, it’s your decision what you do and don’t put in your body, and I’m sure you’re just making whatever decisions work best for you.”
It’s refreshing having somebody not question what you do and don’t do for yourself.
“That means a lot to me.”
Alexia puts down her cutlery, her food somehow disappearing into her stomach.
“It’s just what love is, and I’m here to love you for forever, if you’ll let me.”
You’ve put off crying, you’ve tried your very best, but it’s not possible anymore.
The tears fall freely, and before you know it Alexia has pulled you into her lap.
It hurts, everything hurts, and yet everything feels so much better knowing you’re in her arms.
“I’ve got you bebita, I’m here now, I’m here to help you work this all out.”
——————————————————————
whelp that’s done! thoughts, feedback and general opinions would be appreciated! i’m so happy to have made something for yall and it’s rushed and super unedited and definitely not my favorite work but i hope you enjoy it all the same 🫶
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clockwayswrites · 8 months ago
Text
City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation
Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.
It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.
Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.
The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.
Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”
He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.
“Robin?”
“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”
“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”
“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”
“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”
Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”
“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.
“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”
“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”
“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.
“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”
“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”
Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.
“…Danny?”
Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”
“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”
“Yes.”
Just one word. A simple answer.
“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.
“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”
“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”
“Even if…”
“Even if anything.”
Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.
“Can I show you?”
“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.
“It might be bright, close your eyes.”
The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.
“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.
It was good he did.
He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.
-
“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.
Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.
“Badly.”
Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.
The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.
“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”
“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.
Cass was as worried as the rest of them.
“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.
“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”
“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.
“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.
Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.
He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.
“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”
Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”
Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”
Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”
Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.
Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.
“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”
Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”
“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”
“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.
It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”
Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”
“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.
“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”
Jason flinched.
Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”
Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.
Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.
Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.
Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.
Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.
Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.
Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.
They’d be okay.
It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.
Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.
They’d be okay.
-
Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.
He tried not to make a noise.
He tried to stay quiet.
They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—
There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.
Oh, he was crying.
“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”
That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.
He wasn’t there.
He could make noises.
He was safe.
“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”
Danny nodded as much as he could manage.
“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Danny shook his head.
“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”
Danny squeezed it three times.
“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”
One squeeze.
“Okay, let me go—”
Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.
“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”
Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.
“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”
“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”
“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.
Danny squeezed his hand again.
“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”
Danny trusted that.
It was surprising.
He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.
The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.
---
AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....
...Stay delightful, darlings?
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princessbrunette · 1 year ago
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if anyone understands having a tricky relationship with their father, it’s nate archibald. ౨ৎ
somethin small i wrote abt nate bc a few people asked. cw: daddy kink, daddy issues, smut
that distant stare of yours, that pout as you stare out over the city from his apartment window. he knows it all too well. approaches you softly with a slight sympathetic pout of his own, running a hand over your head and bringing your cheek to his chest so he can kiss the top of your head. he couldn’t give you a better father, but he could give you that guidance and love you crave so much. he could do better.
so he gives you everything — you want that dress costing an arm and a leg? it’s already hanging in your side of the closet at his apartment. you too sleepy as you sit at the kitchen table in the morning after a long night with him? he’s forking up a perfect biteful of pancake and bringing it to your lips with a grin, happy to do so. he never gets mad when you snap at him, something deeper clearly triggering such a sudden reaction— only frowning and shaking his head, closing in on you to thumb at your cheek. “whats with the attitude? somethings on your mind. talk to me.” he coo’s empathetically.
it’s not just you that noticed— blair’s smug but somewhat gleeful smile as she totters alongside nate on the street, nudging him with a sharp elbow through her maison margiela coat. “well, you know how thrilled i am for you to finally be tugging along a girl of taste. even if i have to watch you treat her like you snatched her from the cradle yourself.”
he huffs out a laugh, shooting her a confused glance, walking alongside her with his hands in his pockets. “what are you talking about? she’s like one year younger than me. nearly two.”
“age isn’t nothing but a number, nate— i’m talking about the coddling, tell me — does she call you daddy in just the bedroom or do you extend that to all hours of the day?”
“jesus— need i remind you of boundaries blair, what i do with my girlfriend is none of your business… but— no, she doesn’t call me that.”
but it stayed bouncing around his brain like a ping pong ball. started noticing all the little things, how much more you’d cling to him after an argument with your father. selfishly, he almost started wishing you’d fight more— just so he could dote on you like that. the whole ‘daddy’ thing wouldn’t be so weird right? the thought of it had him reaching down to readjust in his tight suit pants, clearing his throat. uncomfortable? yes. but sexy, crazily so.
maybe he could milk it out of you. enforce a little more guidance until you’re putty in his hand. it wouldn’t be hard, he saw the way you’d blink at him all doe eyed when he’d tell you not to stay up too late, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. he’d speak slower, calmer, stand closer, make him the only thing you can see, think about even. he was gentle, loving, held eye contact super well — too well, made your face get hot and wanna look away. made you wanna shrink, go all mushy in your brain. “hey, look at me when i talk to you sweetheart. i don’t bite, you know.” he smiles, and there’s no threat present but god you’d never disobey him. never your nate.
it finally slips out when he’s got your thighs pinned open, strong arms wrapped around them whilst he sucks on your clit. he was always good at that, making you cum. nate knew just how to destress you after a long stressful day, far too stressful for his sweet girl. he laps you up, pressing thick fingers deep inside gummy walls, dribbling over your slit.
“nnnnnn—” you can’t even get his name out, clutching a pink throw pillow.
“i know, baby.” he hums.
“daddy!” you cry, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as if he was expecting it. if you’d been more with it, you would have seen him bite back a proud chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. he keeps at it, stroking the inside of your sensitive thighs.
“thats right. tell daddy how it feels.”
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lightsoutletsgo · 8 months ago
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I’m such an angst girly omg how about lando’s phone not working and reader gets sad he’s not replying or answering her calls for a few days🤨
pairing: lando norris x reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, allusions to a panic attack, reader is v emotional, lando is an idiot ahhhh tysm for sending this in! It was fun to write but ofc I had to make it fluffy to end bc I didn't wanna make myself too sad happy reading! love mimi 🤍
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
Long distance relationships were hard, you knew that before you’d even started dating Lando. You’d heard all of the stories before but like the many innocent others who had yet to experience their partner being on the other side of the world, you were determined that everything would be okay. 
Now, as you thought back to how naive you’d been, you scoffed, how could you have thought it would be so simple? If you weren’t battling with time zones, you were battling to find free time, and if you found free time, it was never quiet and peaceful and it never lasted more than a few minutes. You knew you should have been satisfied with those snatched moments you did get, but you missed your boyfriend. 
You missed him even more when he got another podium and you weren’t there to celebrate with him. You’d stayed up until stupid o’clock to watch the race live and you’d cheered and jumped as your boyfriend performed overtake after overtake to move up the grid to claim second place. You knew that once he had done his post-race interviews and meetings he would call you. You sighed as once more Lando’s contact picture flashed up with ‘facetime unavailable’. You’d scheduled this call the night before but he was only a few minutes late. You shook your head as you took a deep breath, he was probably just finishing up in meetings. Half an hour went by and your stomach twisted with worry as you still hadn’t heard from him. You checked your phone but there were no new notifications - not from him at least anyway. 
You curled up on the couch, noticing Lando’s hoodie still resting over the arm of the couch. Pulling it towards you, you nuzzled your face into it and inhaled, the smell of his cologne washing over you. You felt tears well up in your eyes. No matter how busy or tired he was, he had never once missed your call. You grew angry, not with Lando, never with Lando, but just at the situation. 
You huffed and grabbed your phone once more, deciding to doom scroll through instagram until Lando finally called. You noticed that a few people had posted new stories and so you pressed on the first one, absentmindedly tapping your screen until you paused, sitting up quickly as you realised the story you were looking at was Max Fewtrell’s. He’d posted a video in the club at a post-race party. You normally wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but you could have sworn in the back corner of the dimly-lit club video was a figure that looked suspiciously like Lando. Going back to the start of his story and scrolling through again you realised it was Lando, wearing the black shirt you’d given him for his birthday the previous year. 
Turns out you could be mad at Lando. Something uncomfortable and hot flashed in your stomach as nausea hit you. Anger curled its way up your spine and through your chest, tightening around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. He was out at a club? And that’s why he hadn’t called you? You growled and glared at your screen, thumbs jabbing into the keyboard as you furiously typed a message to Max. He was online, you noted, as you hit ‘send’ and waited for him to read it. You barely had to wait five minutes before Max was apologising profusely and sending you a long paragraph about how he was sure Lando had texted you and would be letting him know straight away. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on the couch next to you with a ‘hmmph’. You sat in silence for a while, your emotions slowly welling up as tears gathered on your lash line. Was this how your relationship was going to end? Long nights alone while Lando partied it up on the other side of the world? Surrounded by scores of choices of pretty women and an endless supply of alcohol? You couldn’t help the way you sobbed as you grabbed his hoodie once more, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were crying so hard you almost didn’t hear the way your phone vibrated on the cushion. You gasped for air as you picked it up and turned it over, Max’s name flashing on the screen. You snatched your phone up and pressed the green button to accept, not even registering that it was a facetime call and he was going to see you crying.
You inhaled sharply as it was Lando’s worried face that appeared on the screen, he looked panicked and you could hear the music thumping in the background although slightly muffled. Despite the fluorescent lights he was standing under, he still looked good, “Baby? Oh my god…” He took in your tear stained cheeks and the way your eyes were red. He noted your sniffling noises and the way your bottom lip trembled, “Love I’m so so sorry!” You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, trying to not let him see the next wave of tears that were threatening to fall, “Sure.” He sighed, “Honey, I promise you, I didn't mean it. I did text you! I didn’t realise it didn’t go through because I was in the post-race meeting!” “I wanted to celebrate your win with you!” Lando gently shushed you as he saw your chest heave, your breathing quickening once more, “Baby, baby, shh sh sh it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here.” He looked off screen for a moment to a person you assumed to be Max before the music got louder again and then quiet, as if Max had left Lando alone. You followed along with his breathing as he over exaggerated for you to copy.
“Love I promise you it was just an accident okay? I texted you to ask if you were ready to call but when there was no reply I assumed you’d fallen asleep so then I texted you to ask if you could be at the airport for 4am…” He winced, “I decided to fly home early and have a few days with you before the next race.” You melted back against the couch, hugging his hoodie to your chest as you tucked your knees up under your chin and rested your phone there, “4am?” You sniffled with a giggle, “Is that my hoodie?” He said, doing his best to distract you and you let out a proper giggle this time, “Lando! 4am is so early!” He laughed, relieved to see you feeling better, “I figured we could go for a super early breakfast and then go home and fall asleep together, in our bed, in our apartment which is my favourite place to be, with my love. Your bottom lip wobbled once more, “You promise?” He nodded to assure you, “I promise.” You inhaled deeply and let out an exhale with a sigh, “I can’t wait to see you,” your thumb gently rubbed across his cheek even through the screen. “I can’t wait to see you either love, can’t wait to be home”
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ccraccz · 6 months ago
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Hello! I saw that wind breaker requests are open!
May I request some fluff for umemiya, suo, sakura and togame please?
I you could please write about how they would react if they saw their crush crying because they were worried about boys injuries please?
Thank you!
YESYESYES SO CUTTEEE!!! Thank you so so much for the request sweets!!! <333
Characters: Hajime Umemiya, Suo Hayato, Sakura Haruka, Jo Togame x reader (GN! since not specified)
Patch me up
HAJIME UMEMIYA
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He usually never got this injured
but the gang that had used you and a few other vendors as hostages had knives and bats that had bruised and sliced at his, and his gangs skin.
After the fight, and after he looked over Bofurin to check for injuries, he quickly went up to check on you and some other vendors
Tears stained your cheeks as he fast walked to you, urgency in each step as he grew closer to you
You both locked eyes, and in an instant, you ran towards him, throwing yourself into his chest and wrapping your arms around him, tightly squeezing before tears restarted flowing down your cheeks.
your tears seeped into his white shirt, that was stained with red due to the scratches and slices on his skin
He wraps his arms around you as you sob, mumbling about how your safe and that he's fine
he brings you home, were you patch him up with sniffles and cuddle him for comfort, where he blushes lightly.
Your hold was nice, and warm, and it was so comforting
He felt sorry that you had to experience such a traumatizing situation, and that you had to see him fight and be serious
he closed his eyes, sitting on the couch as the thoughts of today rush through his mind, staying awake in as images of your terror filled face stayed imprinted under his eyelids.
that day, he did not sleep, even in the comfort of your embrace.
SUO HAYATO
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he barely even gets hurt in general, so that person he was fighting would have to be very fast and diligent in their movements to even be able to touch him
He had been fighting a group with the other windbreaker first years, and the gang leader had been intently watching them, learning their steps and movements.
Suo was the first one who finished fighting the underlings, not even breaking a sweat, and he was the one who decided to fight the leader
since the leader had watched them, he had learned how to counter his fighting style and more
it took him of guard and made him hesitate in a movement which the gang leader used to his advantage and struck him, cutting his cheek in the process due to him falling on the ground before he jumped back up and fought back
it didn't come to mind until he finished the fight with the help of Sakura that the scene was right in front of you place
so after the fight, you running down the stairs of your place and basically shoving your face into his chest and you basically fall on your knees, loud sobs resonating in his ears
tears fell from your eyes like waterfalls, arms tightening at his waist and fists wrinkling his gakuran
he laughs as he pats your head, telling you to not worry, and that he was fine, a blush on his cheeks
he enjoyed that you worried so much for him, enough to sob at the sight of him 'endangering' himself to help the town.
SAKURA HARUKA
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Get used to it
he loves fighting and getting injured is a part of it
its mostly for the thrill of hurt for him
but seeing you freak out about his bloody nose, bruised knuckles, and scratched face makes him tense
his bright red face basically blended with the redness of his blood LMAO
he's so awkward about it as you bandage his fists, patch up his scraped up elbows and cheeks, and clean him up of dirt
big crocodile tears flow down your cheeks as you clean him up, loud sniffles making him look at you
the tears just kept falling as you rubbed your face to dry them up, but they just kept dribbling down your flushed face and soaking up on his black pants as you sat, kneeling before him on the floor of your place after you patch up his scuffed up knee
he makes a face before standing up, making you look up at him as he grabbed you and made you stand up
he then held you close, holding the back of you head to his collar bone with one hand as the other wrapped around your back and awkwardly patted it
he was at least trying to comfort you, and it was working.
JO TOGAME
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it was during a festival
a gang had shown up randomly and decided they were going to start some chaos
so they started to robbing food and drinks, destroying the stalls, and even pushing around some vendors
you had been helping out your friends parents in their stall since your friend got injured and their parents were busy selling their sweets as you kept an eye on the hot sugar when you heard the chaos happening a two stalls down
the stall besides yours was being helped by Jo Togame, who had been watching you from the corner of his eye the whole time, a small blush on his face
Togame had hear the chaos happening and asked the vendor to be able to check out what was happening, which the vendor quickly agreed
The male quickly slips on his Shishitoren jacket, the clacking of his geta sandals being loud as he walks towards the ruckus of the opposing gangs show of power
what he got hurt with wasn't an injury from a punch or a kick, but a few scrapes came from how harshly he landed when he tackled the gangs leader, knees sliding on the floor and ripping his loose, monk pants
you had turned off the heat on the sugar and made the last few sweets to be sold before focusing on the fight happening, your friends parents having started to freak out, trying to take care of the elderly around you
you weren't too worried about the people around, more worried for Togame, with how he slid in the rough, rocky ground
the sound of screams and punches were loud, but you could only watch as Togame slowly stands up and tells the gang to scram
you quickly grab the first aid kit that was under you friend's parents stall and rush forward, tears brimming your waterline as you jogs up to him
you grab his sleeve, pulling him to a seat and cleaning his knees and knuckles
you blink, and suddenly your crying, sniffling
Togame blushes, not knowing what to do other than to hold you close
and so that's what he does
he stands and walks away with you, holding onto your sleeve this time and dragging you to a secluded space
the festival was then canceled for the rest of the night
but both you and Togame stick close to each other, looking up at the dark sky that is luminated by the stars and the moon
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steveyockey · 1 year ago
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“Feel free to share your positive feelings about the film on Twitter after the screening,” said the usher introducing the London press preview screening of Barbie, Greta Gerwig’s Mattel-produced film. The embargo for reviews, however, would not be lifted until two days later, closer to the film’s release. The audience generally didn’t bat an eyelid and it wasn’t the first time my colleagues and I had heard such directives, yet we were left feeling censored: if they won’t allow for our negative reactions, why should they get our positive ones?
The purpose of this strategy barely needs specifying: in addition to the film’s omnipresent marketing campaign, positive reactions on social media were to seal the deal and ensure that the most dubious potential spectators would be persuaded to turn up to the cinema on the opening weekend, the most crucial days for a film’s box office success. The fact that the audience at this preview screening consisted mostly of influencers was another blatant marketing strategy, which would not have been as insulting were it not for the fact that it meant many film critics were unable to see the film before its release. The phenomenon occurred in other cities as well. A few days before the film’s release, Parisian writers were dumbfounded to see some colleagues sharing glowing takes on the film on Twitter, after being told there would be no advance screenings for any of the press. Moreover, what were presented as exclusive interviews with the cast turned out to be prerecorded and pre-approved by the studio. Ahead of its release, the film was to be seen only through pink-tinted glasses.
While it is customary for film studios to try to control the narrative by organising advance screenings if they believe in a film or avoiding them if they don’t, the methods employed for the release of Barbie were more extreme. They are symptomatic of a trend that has been evolving over the past few years and that concerns not only the film criticism profession, but culture at large. If all discussion of a film’s merits before release is left to influencers, whose driving ambition is to receive free merchandise by speaking well of the studio’s products, what can we expect the film landscape to look like? Where will engaging, challenging and, if not completely unbiased then at least impartial conversation about cinema take place, and how is the audience to think critically of what is being sold to it?
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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years ago
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Through the Fire
Jason Todd x batmom!reader
Jason’s death broke you almost beyond repair, sending you into a dark pit that you struggled to claw yourself from. But what about your baby boy? What about what happened to him? And could you ever save him like you should have done years ago?
Warnings: ANGST, lots about Jason’s death, kidnapping, Jason needs a hug, references to Damian’s conception, I repeat shit tons of angst, reader wants to die for a while, swearing, descriptions of scars, insults thrown at reader, references to murder
WC: 1.7k
A/N: I realise I took this in a different direction than what the request actually was but I hope you still like it!
Minors DNI
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You didn’t think being a mother was ever in your life plan, it wasn’t like you didn’t want children, you just never expected it to happen. Then, a little bird named Dick trotted into your life, bringing along with him a man who you knew was your soulmate. And a few years later, things got even better.
A boy, barely 11 years-old, tried to steal the tires off of the bat-mobile. And less than 24 hours later, he became a Wayne. Life was good, for a while. You did your best to provide your boys with as normal a life as possible given the circumstances and they seemed to flourish. That is until Jason was a month shy of his 14th birthday.
You remember that night in vivid detail like a horrible nightmare you couldn’t escape. Bruce had been silent on the coms after the explosion making a deep sense of unease settle in your gut. You remember little Jason’s bright yellow cape saturated with red, the fabric wrapped tightly around your son’s body, shielding you from the horror.
Bruce made eye-contact with you and you knew, you knew your little jay-bird had been ripped from you before his life could even really begin. The scream that echoed through the cave as you fell to your knees still haunts Alfred and Bruce to this day. The utter despair and rage of a mother who lost their baby rattling their bones.
For a long time, you blamed Bruce. Once Jason had been buried beneath his favourite tree on the grounds, you stopped speaking to your husband. You moved to the other side of the manor, refusing to eat or even sleep. You wanted so badly to be with your boy again and you wished every day that you had been the one who died, not him.
The appearance of Tim saved you. That smart little boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer wormed his way into your heart. He helped gather the pieces of your heart and stick them back together, even if there were a few shards that lay with your Jason.
Bruce welcomed you home with open arms and you both were finally able to grieve together. You became a united front once more, able to face any situation with the knowledge that you weren’t alone.
But nothing could have prepared you for this.
With a pained groan, your mind emerged from the darkness of unconsciousness. Your eyelids felt heavier than normal as you struggled to open them but eventually, you were successful. As far as you could tell from the dim light streaming through the windows, you were in an abandoned apartment. It stank of stale urine and cigarettes.
You huffed and glanced down to find that you had been tied to an old dining chair. Your gaze lifted to the door which was only a few feet in front of you. If you could bounce on the seat with enough force, you might be able to shatter the old wood and make a run for it.
“Don’t even fucking think about it.” The deep voice that spoke from the darkness further into the apartment startled you but you regained your composure quickly, after all this wasn’t your first rodeo.
“What do you want? Money? Leverage?” The man chuckled and you saw the shadow of his figure move. From what you could tell, he was huge.
“No, we just need to have a little conversation without Mr Wayne meddling.” Your stomach dropped. Who the fuck was this guy? But before you could retort, he stepped from the shadows.
The red of his helmet was what struck you first. The metal was smooth save for the white slits for his eyes, even to you who had faced the Joker head on, it was incredibly intimidating. Then emerged the maroon bat on his chest so like the symbol your husband sported. Then the two guns strapped to his thighs.
Anger rushed through your veins before you could stop it. “Red Hood.” You spat. 
“Very good!” He replied sarcastically. “I’m glad I made an impression.” He walked casually over to you, his goliath body towering over you. The old floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved with the grace of a man who had spent his whole life being a soldier.
Your face remained stern as he approached, not showing even a lick of emotion. Your husband’s words echoed through your mind. “Do not show your fear, give them nothing.”
“You’ve already killed more than 20 people in Gotham, I don’t think that’s a great impression to give.” 
“20 people that you know of.” He snarked, a thick Gothomite accent slipping through his carefully crafted facade. “It isn’t like your beloved husband is doing much to clean up the streets.”
He walked casually behind where you were bound and tugged on your restraints. You flinched as the rope dug into your plush stomach. “I mean he couldn’t even kill the son of a bitch that murdered your precious ‘baby bird’.” He hissed, voice full of raw hatred.
Ice ran through your veins. You couldn’t answer him, too shocked that he knew of Bruce’s double life. “I mean what kind of a man replaces his son less than a year after he was beaten to death with a crowbar! And you know what makes it even worse?” His face was now right beside yours, his mask pressed against your ear as he whispered his next words. “You let him.”
“You have no clue what you’re talking about!” You crumbled, you couldn’t help it. The pain of Jason’s death was all-too-present in your lives. “I died the same day he did.” 
“And yet you’re still breathing.” He moved away, turning his back to you. “And I know why, it’s because you weren’t really his mother. You just took him in as a little pet project because you were a bored housewife with no one to nag since your Brucie was out fucking other women. If you were really my mother, you would have killed yourself a long time ago.”
A gloved hand reached up and undid the hidden clasp in his helmet. The metal fell away easily, revealing a mop of pitch black hair that covered the back of his pale neck. “Poor Mrs Wayne, stuck in that big house all alone with so much love to give but no one to give it to. Jesus Christ, no wonder Dick left, you are so stifling.”
He huffed through his nose as if this whole thing was one big cosmic joke before Red Hood finally turned to face you once more. “Well mommy, how does it feel to know that your jay-bird is a murderer?” 
“Oh god.” You whimpered as you took him in. Jason’s face was covered with the silvery lines of old scars, including a large one that curled up from the corner of his lip all the way up his cheek, giving him a snarled smile. His eyes were no longer the soft hazel that they once were but now an almost supernatural green. A slash of white cut through his dark hair.
He was so different but he was still Jason. “My baby.” Tears quickly rolled down your full cheeks. “You’re alive.” You didn’t fight against your bonds anymore, you couldn’t. It felt like your body was shutting down as shock set it. 
Jason scoffed at your tears. “Oh so now you wanna start crying? Fucking pathetic.” He rolled his eyes.
“My boy, my boy.” You cried. He was alive, all this time he was alive and you hadn’t found him. Guilt settled heavily in your gut and suddenly it was like it was 5 years ago. “I’m so sorry.” 
“You’re just sorry that now you have to face the consequences of your actions.” You shook your head. “Or are you sorry that you weren’t a better mommy?” He asked mockingly. 
“I’m so sorry Jason. I’m sorry. I love you so much.” You were in near hysterics now. “I love you.”
But evidently, that was the wrong thing to say because with an explosive amount of power, Jason threw his helmet at the far wall. The metal dented upon impact, shattering the cheap drywall. “No you don’t! You never did!” He blazed with an anger you had never seen before.
“I do. You were the best thing to happen to me Jason. You’re my baby. I’ll love you forever.” And for a split second, you saw the rage melt away and what was left was that scared little kid who just needed a guiding hand.
“Fuck you! You’re just a fucking trophy wife who can’t even keep her husband in her own bed!” He screamed into your face but you did not flinch.
“I love you.” You repeated, your tone unwavering.
“You aren’t even my real mother!” His face was red with emotion, just the same way it used to when he was upset or frustrated.
“I love you.”
“I don’t love you!” He shouted back but his eyes could no longer meet yours and his hands were shaking.
“I love you.” Your voice was soft now, just barely a whisper but you knew he heard you. He shot forward, slipping a knife from some hidden pocket into his palm. The ropes that held you fell away just as he collapsed into your arms.
You did not hesitate, you wrapped him up as tightly as you could, Jason’s head falling to the crook of your neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I love you my Jason.” Tears soaked through your shirt as he sobbed, his huge chest heaving with his pain.
“I was so scared. I just wanted you and you weren’t there. There was so much fire and blood.” Thick arms wound around your waist, squeezing you harshly. “I wanted my mommy.”
“I’m here now. I’m never letting you go again, never.”
He nuzzled further into you and you almost didn’t catch his quiet “I love you momma.” 
“I love you more.”
And that’s where Dick found you hours later, kneeling on the dirty floor of a condemned building, Red Hood asleep in your arms as you sang him a lullaby.
Anon request: 3.The boys did something wrong and she punish them by (whatever you want to do) and one of the replies, “you’re not My Mom!”
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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago
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eddie x Fem! Reader
honey I’m home masterlist
TW: 18+ hospitals, trauma, crying, etc
A/N: this is a short little chapter. the next one will be longer— thank you for hanging onto this story even though it took me forever to get it started. I have most of the next chapter done so it’ll probably be posted next week.
The blue and red lights are blinking in rapid succession. Painting the curtains in washes of ruby and royal. 
  The sirens should have been loud but Eddie figured it was the blood trickling down his head and into his ear canal that was preventing him from hearing clearly. 
  He fought with the first responders. 
  Fought with the people fussing over him and trying to rush him into an ambulance. 
  He refused to leave you. 
  He didn’t need to be cared for. 
  He didn’t care about anything. 
  Only you.
  Mr. Derry’s loud knock and burst through the door was the exact distraction needed for Eddie to grip the bat in his bloody hand. 
  Rings squeezing tight around blood and the wooden handle, he swung hard. A suddenly athlete in a smokers body. He felt the thuds and friction vibrating in his forearms when the nailed head connected with flesh. But he didn’t stop until there were two crumpled bodies collapsed on the red stained carpet. 
  And when the ambulance crew met him at the door, gurney ready, you were wrapped tight in his arms. A faint pulse echoed like a whisper against your skin. Eddie’s tears streaming down his face and onto yours. 
  His promise pressed delicately to your lips.
  “What have we got?” 
  “According to the patient’s friend, she is twenty-one-year, sir! you need to be looked at, and lived by herself for the past few months..” 
  I’m fine! Jesus— get off me and help her! 
  “…call came in at 2208 from a Mr. William Derry— the neighbor— claiming there were screams coming from across the street of his residence on Cherry Lane. Dispatch didn’t think to respond right away due to the many calls Mr. Derry has submitted to the Police Department.”
  “Sir, I am not telling you again, you need to be checked out!” 
  “Jesus Christ.”
  “When nobody showed up, the neighbor went across the street after hearing more screaming. Patient was held up by her throat by the DOA”
  “Bill has him in truck 011, ID found on the body confirmed he was Chad Cunningham.” 
—-
Eddie is standing before you, looking the same has he did the morning g after Halloween. It’s similar but different. There’s more light in the kitchen, and he is rosy cheeked like a cherub, his movements almost floating like angel wings as he moves the carton of orange juice hp to his lips, small glints of a silver nipple ring peaking out from the cutoff shirt he wore. 
  When he speaks, it’s like a harp is playing, all song and beautiful notes, extending and echoing around the room. 
  “So when do I get this trophy sweetheart?” He says with a grin, “thinking of putting on a shelf in my room,” 
  Your laugh feels like butterflies tickling your stomach, “you can’t be serious.” 
  His head dips as he walks towards you, smile displaying the prettiest teeth, “damn straight, want the whole town to know I had the best costume!”
  “Stolen costume,”
  “Pppffft, I just borrowed it.” the wink he delivers is almost sinful, toothachingly sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity, and you melt on the spot. 
— 
“Miss? Can you tell us your name? Can you tell us anything?” 
  Sterile. 
  Chemical.
  You were either in a hospital or a morgue. You didn’t feel any pain so it very likely could be the worst of the two options. Whatever you were laying on was cold. And when you tried to move you found you couldn’t. 
  Is this death?
  Eyelids heavy and unable to cooperate and make the connection with your brain on flicking open so you could see what was happening. 
  The only thing constant was a buzzing in both ears. A tug along your eyelids and rubber glove fingers on your body. But you were trapped in your mind, unable to speak, to scream, to show any physical movements other than the involuntary rise and fall of your chest and your lungs being filled with oxygen, fed through flexible plastic of the oxygen mask placed on your face. 
  Oblivious to your surroundings. 
  “Severe trauma to both eyes, laceration to the back of the head, severe swelling and possible damage to the larynx, Katerina, what did the CT show?” 
  “CT came back clear, X-Ray showed a break to both zygomatic bones, 5th and 6th ribs and a lacerated spleen…”
  “Look at her nails, poor thing fought for her life,” 
  “they both did.” 
  You found the will to whisper what you needed to tell them. Voice hoarse and barely audible, removing the mask they look in horror back at your words, and  immediately the feeling of warm liquid entering your veins and the blur of sleep covers your body. 
  He visits you again, this time you know it’s a dream. The pink clouds flow behind his head even though you are standing in the living room. But it’s different, blurred on the edges, hazy sweet and refined. How heaven could be described. 
  “I look good in this don’t even lie,” Eddie says with a spin, the white cotton of your robe resembling a mini skirt on his long legs, “but if you want me to take it off all you have to do is ask, I’m a pleaser, baby.”
  He was every version of himself, handsome, gross and menacing. Sweet and caring, eye twinkling, soft voiced: Eddie. The beer taped to his hand like it was all those months ago when you splashed him awake, threatening to kick him out. 
  Delivering his classic one liners that you now knew helped fuel your love for him. 
  “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”
  And maybe your love for him was always there. 
  Showing up in the background, fluttering bird wings of your heart before you even noticed. 
  Developing into something sweeter, deeper, so heartbreakingly sick it took a disaster and almost the last pulse in your veins for you to be able to admit it. 
  -
Steve had been pacing the cream colored tiles for over thirty minutes. The squeak of his Nikes against the floor were something Eddie was trying hard to focus on instead of worrying about you in the ICU, but so far it wasn’t working.
  The nasal cannula was annoying, he could breathe fine on his own. The stitches in his eyebrow itched and stung with each weave through his skin, pulled taut around the swelling in his face. 
  The shot the nurses had administered to calm him down after screaming and trying to fight his way to you, was making his mind fuzzy— still, Steve’s pacing kept him company. Step step step squeak, step step step hand in hair, followed by an agitated huffing breath.
  A nurse with a long blond ponytail braided down her back opens the polyester curtain with a drag and slips inside the room. A black rubber and steel stethoscope around her neck, before she could introduce herself Steve exploded with fury. 
  “Tell me what the hell is going on in this poor excuse for a hospital, right now!” Steve’s hair shook from its feathered position when he spoke, his demanding voice booming across the tiles. 
  Without missing a beat and clearly dealing with high strung men before she said almost monotonously, “Sir, you need to calm yourself down, this is a h-”
  But Steve’s fire was only fueled by her dismissive tone, his voice never wavering, “No, I will not calm down! The police were made aware of this situation a year ago and nothing was ever done!” 
  The police officer standing outside guarding entry to the room tipped his head in slow, “Mr. Harrington, we hear your complaints but there isn’t anything we can—”
  “Bullshit!” A tear stain cheeked Robin sobbed, her face red and blotchy from hours of crying and rubbing her freckles clean, “Eddie told you what happened yet he’s still cuffed to a bed like a fucking criminal!”
  She broke down again, clinging to Steve’s side like a wounded child, sobbing into the soft cotton of his crewneck sweater. “This is unethical! Unco—”
  “Alright that’s enough hot shot,” Hopper shouts in finality towards Steve, a wrinkle burrowed deep in his forehead accompanied with graying thick eyebrows set in a devastating frown. 
  “Chief,” Wayne interjects, cap wringing in his calloused, wrinkle bared hands, his voice wobbly but steady, runny nose and wet tears cling to his scruffy beard, “my son was protectin’ that girl, you know Eddie…he’d never hurt someone unless his life or someone he cared about was in danger.” 
  Hopper tore his gaze from the one of the richest in the room to the poorest, hanging his head with sorrow, “ ‘m sorry, Wayne— but until Mr. Derry’s statement comes back and Eddie is cleared… the cuffs stay.” 
  Wayne hung his head low, the few wiry hairs on his balding head stuck in all sorts of directions despite his attempt at raking them into submission. 
  “Jim Hopper you should be ashamed of yourself,” Karen Wheeler spoke up now, head held high, claw clip  teetering with each gesturing movement of her head, “you know good and well this boy couldn’t have done that to her! They loved each other!” 
  Since the pacing of Steve’s feet had stopped Eddie’s heart rattled hard in his chest, he clawed at the heart monitors on his chest, tried to bite the IV’s from his arms, caged like a wild animal he let out a broken cry, “ple— please, she needs me.”
  “Mr. Munson,” the nurse with blonde hair replies sternly, “she is in critical condition, we don’t know if or when she will be able to to recover, she is heavily sedated and needs rest, her only visitors will be family at this time.” 
  “Speaking of,” another nurse chirps, young and fresh gilled, entirely too eager to please her superior, “do you know how to get a hold of her family?”
  He shakes his head slow, causing a pounding headache, “I am her family,” Eddie grunts through clenched teeth, pushing himself up on the bed as far as his cuffs would allow, Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Look around this room! Ted and Karen Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Byers.. we are all she has,” a single tear falls down his bruised cheek, liquid salt in the cut in his top lip. 
  “Okay sir.. who is responsible for her?” 
  “In regards to what? Financially? You money hungry pricks just don’t let up so you?,” Ted Wheeler finally speaks behind his wife, shock and anger evident on his wrinkled features.
  “Not exactly…”
  “Whatever it is, I will handle it, alright?” Eddie interjects, annoyed with the questions, worried only about you, “I’m responsible for her.”
  “Oh,” the nurse says, perking up slightly, marking a red check mark on her clipboard, smoothing out her uniform, “so you are aware of her condition then.” 
  Light bulbs click for everyone in the room but the curly brown haired metal head. 
  Oh my God
  …Tooty
  Holy shit.
  “That she got the shit kicked out of her by that fucking psycho Chad Cunningham?”
  Eddie.
  Ma’am can we talk privately in the hall? 
  “…obviously I’m aware! I was there when it happened! That dumb fuck already took my statement!” he said gesturing to Deputy Wallace. 
  “No, Mr. Munson..”
  This isn’t the time for this! Wayne tried to warn the nurse, but it fell on deaf, naive ears.
  “…she’s right around twelve weeks pregnant.” 
  A pin dropping could have been heard from a mile away. The oxygen was sucked from the room. Karen’s hand was clapped around her mouth. Nancy and Robin choked back sobs.  
  Everyone was struck with horror, but not Eddie. 
  His mind playing that beautiful night between you like a movie in his head. The way your skin felt, the way his heart ached with fullness at your shared fervor and passion. 
  REWIND
  PLAY
  The curve of your lips on his skin, kissing him sweet and slow, no noise, just the love making swallowing you both whole. 
  REWIND 
  PLAY
  PAUSE 
  Your soft snores as he counted the popcorn marks in the ceiling, his girl. His entire universe. 
  STOP
  EJECT 
  The tears rolled like a ferocious river down his face, carving a path down his cheeks and under his wobbling chin, wetting the hospital gown he was forced into when he got here. 
  You were alone.
  He didn’t know anything about pregnancy besides the woman usually got sick right? Every emotion that most men feel when finding out they were going to be a dad hit him all at once. 
  But not fear. 
  He imagined you with a big swollen belly, feet too pudgy to fit into shoes, he’d rub them with lotion until you could fall asleep. 
  He’d imagined his arms holding you from behind, your baby wrapped in his arms still in your womb. The relief you might feel from the weight being in his hands. 
  You were experiencing this pain all by yourself. 
  He couldn’t fathom how you were feeling. Scared. Hopeless? He had no idea. And the thought of you being alone had him nauseous. 
  Why didn’t you didn’t tell him?  
  Why didn’t anyone tell him? 
  His fury built and shook as his voiced boom with grief as he screamed at Steve, dark eyes blood shot and red rimmed. 
  “How could you,” he broke, struggling through the words, "why would you not tell me?!” The cuffs around his wrist broke skin as he tried to claw his way out of them, trying to reach at Steve’s shirt demanding to be heard. 
  “Ed— fuck man!” Steve started, mouth gaping at Eddie’s arms dripping with blood from his fresh wounds, “we didn’t know!” 
  Robin speaks now, trying to reach for Eddie’s hand to offer him some comfort, “She didn’t tell us, Eddie—Steve is right, she didn’t say a word to any of us about it.” 
  “Fuck!” Eddie screams, slamming his wrists into the bed sides, “I sh—should h-have..,” the end falls silent as his long legs were pulled to his chin and he buried his head into them. 
  In the minutes it had been since he found out, he was already a shitty fucking dad.
  The pain of what happened to you and him not being able to stop it quick enough was killing him, and now, realizing that you were carrying his child and you were all alone? 
  There weren’t words for the gut wrenching feeling ripping through him. Overwhelming dread, chest tight with panic and pain. The nausea overtaking him. The vomit came fast, splashing allover himself and the bed, landing in thick puddles on Steve’s shoes. He cried harder and sobbed uncontrollably. When his stomach was empty he could only dry heave. 
  Wayne moved across the tiled floor in quick steps, careful not to slip in the wayward puke in his path. Sitting down hard and with purpose next to Eddie. This wasn’t his first rodeo of seeing Eddie in this turmoil. But never as a grown man. 
  He tried his hardest to hold back the tears he swore he’d never let fall in front of his boy, but gravity won the fight when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug, his sobs snuffed by the canvas of his work jacket. 
———
It was a full 12 hours before Mr. Derry’s statement was released. Tough old bird, he couldn’t be coerced even with the gentle threat from the Cunningham’s came down hard breathing down his neck. 
  Surely not their son? Their angel?
  But the proof was there. An eye witness statement and a severely beaten woman, the record from years past and the statement from both Steve and Robin on what happened last year at your apartment, stood its ground. 
  Eddie was cleared as a free man, self defense in the eyes of the law. The second his cuffs were off he was throwing his boots onto his gripper socked feet, and untangling himself from wires and needles. 
  Steve and Wayne had both taken off work to help Eddie pick up his medication and make him go home and rest. When he tried to protest, Wayne gave Eddie a look that could pierce steel, the kind of look saying no bullshit, and begrudgingly he followed the men out to Steve’s Mercedes. 
  Nancy and Karen stayed behind at the hospital, filling your room with heavily perfumed flowers. Hushed whispers between the mother and daughter as they prayed and hoped that you would make it out of this horrific nightmare. 
  The doctors would only speak to Eddie. Letting him aware that your condition was improving but they would not be able to lift the sedation just yet. A day passed then another. Eddie slept in the hospital grade recliner in your room each night. Singing you sweet lulls of your favorite song. Promising you the world if you would just open your eyes. 
  He was weak himself. Fighting the urge to break down in front of anyone again with each hour that passed. 
-
4 days led to 5 and the nurses and doctors whispered behind their clipboards. On the 6th day they decided to lift the sedation to see how your body would tolerate pain. 
  Eddie never left. 
  Machines beeped and ticked. Tubes and wires connecting from you drip with fluid and monitoring systems. The white walls and outdated curtains of the hospital shine a yellowed glow into your room, bringing with it a warmth to your cotton thread blanket and warming the skin on your arms. A welcomed feeling compared to the cold needles of the IV poking into your skin delivering flows of medicine and liquids to keep you hydrated and your pain manageable. 
  Foiled balloons printed with get well wishes bounce and sway with the kick on from the vent. 
  One of your hands is unexpectedly warmer than the other. A rough drag across the knobs of your knuckles is a familiar feeling, and you smell him before you even open your eyes to acknowledge that it’s him. 
  The clinging smell of cigarettes on a freshly washed shirt and the spice of deodorant force their way into your nose. It’s a different shampoo than the one you’re used to catching on him. More manly. All sandalwood and musk a hint of citrus. And at first you think he’s someone else… maybe Steve picked up smoking heavily again?
  But when a tuned hum reverberates low against your hand followed by a pair of lips kissing gently around the IV and tape poked and laid against your skin, you know for certain it’s the man you’ve been dreaming about. 
  The one you cried for. 
  The one who visited your sleeping mind and told you everything was going to be okay.
  His name falls from your lips like choked frozen honey, thick in your mouth and on a dry tongue. 
  It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. 
  His girl. His whole world. Awake.
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lightaflaem · 2 months ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [𝐨𝐧𝐞]
content warnings: heavy gore, zombies, infectious disease, mentions of blood, hospitals, cheating, profanity, violence, usage of weapons and guns, mental health problems, implied anxiety attacks, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, protected sex
word count: 5.5k
summary: just when everyone thought that the flu-like virus which led to a global outbreak four years ago had finally settled down, a new variant struck that escalated rapidly and became out of control. with limited supplies and life at stake, you were left with no choice but to team up with your ex-boyfriend, oikawa tooru, to navigate and seek shelter.
keiya.speaks: this is an entry for @pixelcafe-network 's 2024 spooktober event 🎃
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You wished that all of this was just inside of your head.
You begged the ups that once you open your eyes, you’ll be in your favorite figs scrub suit, caressing your Beckman Coulter DxH 900 hematology analyzer, praying that the reagents would be enough for your hospital’s bed capacity as your laboratory supervisor forgot to place an order for this month’s supplies.
Or maybe wooing your Cobas e601, hoping that your quality control would be in the range of the mean so you would be able to run all your chemistry specimens smoothly. Maybe when you finally open your eyes, you’ll be back inside the laboratory, signing all your patients’ results as a Medical Laboratory Scientist.
However, when your eyelids unfolded and a baseball bat swung towards you that nearly grazed the tip of your nose, you were back in this stinking reality.
“I swear to fucking hell, Tooru, stop spinning the bat like that, you nearly hit me again!” you hissed, trying to avoid the piece of wood for the nth time. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the nip of skin that has been hanging around the bloody barbed wires wrapped around it for heavens knows how long and instantly, you felt your insides turning upside down, nearly throwing the acid of your stomach in disgust. 
“Aww, chibi-chan is annoyed, you’re too cute to be annoyed. You can’t be annoyed at me, darling. You’re stuck with me.” Tooru smiled, his eyes turning crescents while grabbing a few cans of easy-open tuna paella and throwing it into the creaky shopping cart.
You’re back in this reality where everyone around you has turned into a living dead—basically zombies. People might think that this is just a foolish tale told by someone like you however, it wasn’t. When everyone thought that the Corona virus that set the world into a pandemic four years ago had ended, well it hasn’t really ended that well yet.
A new variant mutated and current vaccines didn’t work that much into protecting the people. Eventually. Everyone started getting sick again and the cases doubled, tripled, and continued proliferating like hell. Hospitals were full of patients with flu-like symptoms and quarantine was implemented once again. With the lack of research and scientific approach, never have you ever imagined that the simple flu virus that was once contained will mutate into something more damned, something more hellish—and that is taking over its host’s nervous system and respiratory tract, owning it completely just like the mad cow and rabies disease. At this point, you didn’t really understand it that much because there’s a lot of factors and unknown elements. With that, the once feared virus has already taken over the world again but this time, much worse than the first one.
Two weeks since the virus has flipped Japan 360 degrees, 14 days of being stuck to survive with Oikawa Tooru, your ex-boyfriend. 
Shit happens for real, right? But when that menace, caramel-eyed, 6 footer guy who dragged his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, into his shenanigans suddenly showed up in your workplace with a bouquet of flowers 3 years after your break-up, you felt your blood boiling as the last thing you wanted to see is his face.
And another shit happens is that the very same day he showed his arrogant face to you, that’s also the day when the whole city went rabid and everyone suddenly started biting each other as the undead symptoms manifested in most of your emergency room patients. It was like a trigger that suddenly detonated, sending signals to all of the infected to attack.
That’s how you found yourself in an abandoned grocery, picking up some goods before you eventually hit the road to seek a temporary shelter while looking for a permanent one with your ex-boyfriend, who’s now taking advantage of the life or death situation to get closer to you once more.
“Phew, looks like we got everything we needed.”
Your gaze shifted to the items inside the cart. Canned goods, instant meals, protein bars, biscuits, some snacks, bottled waters that could probably last up to a few days depending on the consumption, energy drinks, basic medicine and first aid, batteries, ropes, some toiletries and personal necessities, and a box of condoms.
Box of condoms?
“Oikawa Tooru, you perverted sex animal!” you felt your face heating up despite the broken air conditioner kept on running, setting the whole area into freezing point.
Tooru was laughing his ass off as you picked up and threw the packets of rubber on his chest. He was bursting so much that he dramatically wiped his fake tears.
“We’re in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and you still have the time to pull shitty pranks just like that!” you exclaimed, face puffing in vexation. “If you don’t have a goddamn thing to do—”
“GRRAAAGH!”
“Fuck!”
A squeal leaped out of your mouth as you saw a flesh-rotting guy approaching Tooru from behind. It let out a deafening howl, echoing in the empty store. Its skin was pale, almost white with purple veins popping in its throat up to its face. The pieces of tissue that were decomposing and filled with maggots were falling into the floor, scattering everywhere. Eyes were bloodshot and scarlet red blood was pouring out of its mouth, approaching the both of you with speed. It can fucking run?! 
In an instant, Tooru secured you behind his back and gripped on the bat’s handle with force. As the raving undead approached, he swung the piece of wood with full strength, leaving a huge missing chunk on the man’s head as the muscle flew away due to the impact. Blood spurted out everywhere and you could see pieces of its brain being tangled in the barbed wires. It fell on the ground convulsing before becoming motionless, indicating that it’s already finally dead again.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Tooru’s eyes landed on you, checking you from head to toe.
You were frozen in your place, still trying to comprehend what happened. It wasn’t the first time that you were attacked yet you could still feel your insides being scrambled whenever you’re placed in the exact situation. You felt like you’ll seriously never gonna get used to this scenario.
“Y-yeah, I’m alright. A-are you okay?” you questioned, meeting his brown orbs back. Tooru just laughed hysterically, pushing his hair back and settling the wood just above his shoulders.
“Of course! It’s the grand king after all.”
Piece of shit. You thought. He’s already 27 yet the silly nickname that he was given way back in his junior high volleyball days were still fixated on him. He’s a serious menace.
“C’mon, Iwa’s probably wondering why the hell we’re taking too long. As much as I wanted to say that we took this precious time to make out, I’d rather not.” he commented as he pushed the cart forward. You could see from his back how his gaze changed, sensing if there’s still a threat around you.
When the both of you exited the store, you were greeted by your two companies.
“Y/N! Are you alright?” Tobio hurriedly went towards you, examining your physical state. “We heard the noise from outside. We're ready to barge in, you know?”
“Oi. I’m here. Why didn’t you ask me too?” Tooru sniggered in annoyance as the black-haired man continued ignoring him as he was not existing at all. Of course, the former did not let it go and started a childish, rivalry eye to eye against each other.
It was just broken when Iwaizumi squeezed himself in between to check the items inside the cart.
“You guys forgot my snickers, you fuckers.” his forehead creased when he did not catch a glimpse of his favorite chocolate bar that he clearly instructed earlier. You mentally slapped your head as you realized it just now.
“Now Iwa-chan, this is not the right time to freaking enjoy a chocolate bar.”
“Shut the fuck up, you trash. I’ll stuff this cart into your mouth.”
“And I love you too, Iwa-chan!”
Both you and Tobio stood there with a facepalm on your faces as you watched the two best friends bicker with each other in the middle of goddamn ruins. Some people wouldn't be convinced that they have been friends since high school but they really are.
One of the few good things despite the catastrophe is that you somehow luckily ended up with the people you’ve already known. When your workplace turned into madness, Tooru and Hajime managed to pull you away from the crowd of insanity to hide and ended up escaping together safely to the hospital’s parking lot. However, little did the three of you know that there’s also a few undead lurking there. You felt the numbness taking over your body as you recognized some of them as your colleagues—Yamaguchi Tadashi, a nurse on the 6th floor and Sugawara Koshi, a pediatric resident. They were moving mindlessly, drool dripping on their lips as they no longer recognized their own self.
Before Tooru could drag you away from it, a familiar Suzuki Jimny in solid kinetic yellow stopped in front of you. The door flew open, revealing Kageyama Tobio, a phlebotomist and your college friend, screaming to the three of you to get inside the car.
And that’s how you ended up navigating the now ghost roads of Miyagi with these three. The first instinct is to drive to the government facilities in Tokyo to get help; however, it is nearly impossible to reach your destination when you’re unarmed, have no supplies, and do not know what terror lies ahead on those roads. Good thing is that there’s still electricity and water, however, cellular phone signals and wifi are now down so you couldn’t get any help through local authorities. With that, the three of you decided to stick with each other to gather and prepare everything you needed and move little by little at a time.
“Man, you seriously have horrible taste in color.” Tooru spoke to Tobio as he closed the door of his Suzuki Jimny, clearly provoking the younger one instead, all he received was a scoff, ignoring his remark.
“Tooru, stop it.” you berated your ex-boyfriend and blew you a kiss instead that made your eye roll heavenly.
In no time, you’re back on the road with Hajime driving, Tobio on the passenger seat, leaving you and Tooru in the backseat. Your itinerary for today is to find a house to stay in for a few days before finally driving out of Miyagi for good since the last house you went to got infested with undead.
Every night, you get nightmares from the images of the undead. Whenever you dream about it, it’s always detailed to the point that you could smell the malodorous odor of the rotting bodies. The terrifying screams were also echoing in your eardrums that sometimes sent a strike of headache on your head. But sometimes, you also dream about your life before all of this happens. Your happy life whom you’ve worked hard to achieve. Somehow, you managed to pull yourself together otherwise, you’ll lose your sanity and even worse, become one of the undead. However, you really don’t know how long you could still hold yourself in one piece.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Tooru managed to tickle your sides as your mind was hastily floating in cloud nine. You turned to him and saw his soft gaze locking on you. You noticed how his hazel hair that matched the color of his eyes is now cropped into a shorter one compared to its length when you were still dating him three years ago. He’s also wearing a graded specs now whom you did not recall him having one before. His pointed nose and chiseled jaw are now more prominent due to the weight and baby fats he lost. Arms and body became more muscular, skin got a little tanner than usual probably because of his training in Argentina as a professional volleyball player.
Tooru’s really handsome. He’s got the type of attractiveness where you’ll look over your shoulders to glimpse at him once again whenever he passes by. Despite his childish personality, he’s really kind and a gentleman that made him easy to penetrate inside the heart of his crowd. He’s got the aura wherein he can bring the best out of you when you’re with him. He's like the daylight you’ll see when you reach the end of the night sky.
Your relationship with him was stable. You fight but all the arguments are talked and reflected thoroughly. He always gives you whatever you want and need. Handles your tantrums very well and does not hold grudges against you or anyone else. He makes sure that he can show and make you feel all the love languages he could ever think of. He’s the best boyfriend and best friend you’ve ever had. It was so strangely stable to the point that you thought that he’s the one you’ll marry. However, when he accidentally left his phone in your apartment and you caught a glimpse of a contact with a picture of a girl asking if he had fun last night with her on his text messages, your dream of marrying him and being each other’s end game shattered.
He tried calling and chasing you for almost a week after that but you didn’t give him a chance to explain, knowing that only bullshit will come out of his mouth after he blatantly cheated on you just like that. After that, the only news you heard about him is that he’s flying to Argentina to turn his dreams into reality of becoming a professional volleyball player. He never tried contacting you again after that, not even once.
Three years later, he finally achieved his dreams as he’s all over the news as the best setter CA San Juan has ever had and now he’s suddenly back as if nothing happened between the two of you, alive and kicking. 
“Nothing, just tired.” you lied, not having any energy left to converse with him. You felt a calloused, warm hand placed above your left elbow, thumb caressing your skin. Your eyes flew and saw Tooru’s bruised and wounded hand attempting to soothe yours. “What the hell—”
“It’ll be alright, Y/N. I promise you. We’ll get through this, just like we always have.” he left out a soft yet reassuring smile before releasing your arm. You don’t know why but you felt like a hope ignited inside you. A sense of solace hit as you felt that Tooru never once had second thoughts in you. 
You find yourself erupting a small smile. There’s indeed hope despite the darkest times.
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Standing in front of a 2-storey modern house, you clutched your baseball bat as you prepared yourself for a possible undead atack. It wasn’t that big but it’s enough for a family of three to live in. The exterior has a monochrome color palette with wooden doors and tinted glass windows that reflect your worn out states. It also has a balcony that has a few clothes hanging on the railing.
“Do you think it’s safe?” Hajime looked up at the towering building.
“I hope so.” Tobio answered, leading towards the door.
Slowly, Tobio twisted the automated door knob that surprisingly opened without any difficulty. The four of you exchanged looks, swallowing the balling lump in your throats as you set a foot inside the house. You were greeted by an eerie silence upon entering the abandoned house. It was decorated with lavish interiors and monochromatic palette, matching with the exteriors. The floor is made with oak wood and the walls are marble that added extra fire to the aesthetics. The second floor has a bathroom, one master bedroom, a guest room with two beds and a balcony that faces the streets. Overall, it’s a nice house and seems like the owner is well-off based on their residence.
Hajime and Tooru checked the second floor and found nothing but a few pieces of clothes that seemingly belonged to a man. However, inside the closet of the master bedroom, they found a leather bag of guns, ammunition and a copy of the firearm’s registration. You were not knowledgeable that much in firearms but you immediately recognized AK-47, M16, and the famous Smith & Wesson Model 27 that you once saw in the anime Banana Fish.
“Damn, so those really exist in real life.” Tooru made an exaggerated comment as the weapons were carefully being laid in the long coffee table by Tobio.
“We’re already in an apocalypse, you shithead. Guns like these are more realistic than this fucking hell situation.” Hajime retorted, blood is always boiling at his best friend’s idiocratic remarks.
“Let’s just keep these in one place and take it once we’re moving away. For now, let’s stick with our current weapons so we can utilize everything at once.” you proposed, earning quick nods from the boys.
“Ah, my darling is so clever! Come and give me a hug.” attempting to cage you in his chest, you quickly dodged your ex-boyfriend's arms and pointed the baseball bat a few inches away from his face.
“Don’t you dare touch me, Oikawa.”
“Why? You loved my touches. You were begging for my touch—”
“Shut it!”
You shused him by swiftly covering his mouth with your right hand. You could feel his lips twitching against your touch, eyes forming a curve as he smiled infuriatingly.
“Love birds, take your business upstairs. Me and Tobio will share the guest room, the two of you in the master bedroom so you can make peace with your demons. Don’t think of bitching up because I ain’t taking any shit today.” Hajime firmly said before grabbing the weapons one by one to store them in the small compartment under the coffee table. You felt your face being flushed with much embarrassment as the two guys witnessed your bantering. Tobio was about to appeal but he met the death stare of Hajime, making him pursed his lips.
You couldn’t even remember the last time you shared a room with your ex-boyfriend. The whole 14 days with him, you either get your own space or share a room with all of them. That's why your vital organ is now leaping so hard that it might jump out of your ribcage.
After arranging and dividing the supplies so that it can last for a few days, the four of you improvised a barricade on the door and covered the window so that you wouldn’t see the streets outside that holds a few abandoned cars, splurt of blood on the road, decomposing human pieces, and some bodies that are unrecognizable.
Seeing the first-aid kit that you grabbed earlier in the kitchen counter, the memory of Tooru’s wounded and bruised hand suddenly flashed in your mind. Without a second thought, you found yourself getting ice from the functional freezer and wrapping it in a clean cloth before wetting the piece of fabric so that the cold temperature could easily penetrate. In no time, you were now standing in front of the master’s bedroom, slowly peeking to see if Tooru’s awake.
You saw him sitting on the edge of the bed that is facing the door, clutching a polaroid film in his hand. His face is blank yet a void of sadness was swarming in his brown eyes as he sighed and kept the picture back in his wallet. Your lips parted as you recognized that he’s still using the wallet you gifted him on his last birthday before you broke up.
“Tooru?” you spoke, casually pushing the door. “Can I come in?”
He let out a chuckle. “Of course you can.”
With that, you slid your body inside the room. His eyes were fixated on you as you sat down beside him, placing the kit on your lap. Your hands were trembling as you reached for him, which he willingly lifted without any question, gently patting the iced towel on his bruises that he probably got from mishandling the baseball bat.
“Wow, never have I ever imagined that I’ll get a special treatment from a medical laboratory scientist. You know you can just kiss the boo boo and it’ll go away instantly.” he winked, making you roll your eyes at him again.
“Shut up. My treatment fee is really expensive for idiots like you.” picking up the disinfectant, you slowly rubbed it on the sides of the small cuts with a clean cotton ball, earning a winced from him as the sting penetrated the wound.
Tooru was silent the whole time you’re icing and dressing his hand. He knows that whenever you're doing something healthcare related, you don’t want to be disturbed as you pour your hundred percent concentration into it. He knows this better than you.
“You never gave me a chance to explain myself, Y/N.” he opened up when he saw you finished sealing the wrapped gauze pad around his palm. “At least let me explain this time. I cannot swallow the fact that we’re already in the middle of this goddamn situation and you still haven’t got the peace of mind you deserve.”
You could feel his stare burning at you. When you met his eyes, it was full of perseverance as if he’s not going to let you exit the room without listening to his explanation. To be honest, you really don’t know to yourself why you’re refusing to hear his side. Maybe you’re afraid of the confrontation. Maybe you’re scared of the fact that he cheated and he’s going to confess it in front of your face. Maybe you’re rejecting the reality that Oikawa Tooru did cheat on you with somebody else.
Gathering all your strength, you let out a deep exhale before speaking. “Give me a reason not to kick you out of this room.”
Tooru’s demeanor changed when he heard those words. It was hard for him to gain your trust once again after everything but if he’s given the chance, he will never let go and prove himself to be worthy of your heart once again.
“It was a prank.” he started, making your face puzzled. “It was a fucking shitty prank pulled by my teammate, Kindaichi. I remember him doing the same thing to Kunimi before but we all laughed it off since Kunimi’s single. I don’t remember when he did it but I think when I left my phone in the locker. He changed his number’s contact photo and name into a girl’s name. After that I went straight to your apartment. I seriously forgot the existence of my phone that day since we’re really having fun and I was late for my practice the next day. When Kindaichi heard that I left my phone somewhere, he texted it and that’s the part where you saw it and thought that I was cheating on you. I confronted him after that with Iwa-chan. That's why I know all of it and he said sorry. I never spoke to him after that.”
He let out a sad smile. “That’s basically everything. I tried contacting you, calling, messaging, and waited outside of your apartment for three hours but you weren’t there. I really wanted to talk with you because we both know that I’ll be leaving for Argentina in a few weeks but yeah, it happened and we can’t really change anything about it anymore.”
Tooru’s bandaged hands slowly made its way to yours, clasping both of his palms on your hands. “I’m so sorry that I let it go just like that. I know that I’m three years late but if there’s anything that I can do to make everything right again, I’ll prove it to you in any way you want just to trust me once again. Even as just friends…Y/N, you’re the best girlfriend and best friend I ever had in my whole life and thinking about everything that happened between us and how it ended just like that puts me in misery.”
Fuck. you thought. You don’t know if the world is playing with your vulnerability right now but after hearing everything, you feel like you’re stoned in your place. You feel like your insides are being scrambled and you wanted to vomit every single thing you ate for the last 14 days with him. All this time, it was a prank. A fucking prank that caused so much damage in both of your lives and relationship. A prank that made you lose your former significant other. And the most fucked up thing about it was you could’ve done something to prevent your relationship from crumbling down. It was completely in your control yet you let him slip away from your finger. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness, Oikawa Tooru is still your partner until today.
“Shit! Y/N, I—sorry! Fuck, please don’t cry.” Tooru panicked when he saw the pooling liquid in your eyes start streaming down your cheeks, eventually wetting both of your hands. You didn’t even realize that you were already a crying mess as you hollow your cheeks to prevent the pitiful sobs escaping your mouth.
With much fragility, Tooru enclosed your trembling body into a warm hug that instantly melted all the pain you’ve been feeling. You could hear your hearts beating together against each other’s chest.
“It’s okay. We’re okay now. I finally found you again. I love you so damn much, Y/N.” he whispered in your ear, right hand caressing your back.
After a few minutes of staying in that position, you finally calmed your hurricane. You pulled away, greeting his worried eyes with your puffy and red ones. Upon meeting his gaze, you felt your heart soften as Tooru’s caramel ones penetrated in yours. His lips formed into a small smile when he saw the way you looked at him.
He will never forget those doe eyes of yours. The very first time he saw your eyes, he instantly fell in love and he knows deep inside that he’ll keep on falling in love with you in every chance he gets. In every universe and in every lifetime, his heart only belongs solely to you.
Your faces acted on their own, slowly moving towards each other until your warm lips clasped with each other. The tension that was middling the two of you finally broke today. It started gentle, lips moving together in sync not until Tooru’s hand grabbed your jaw, lightly turning your face to the side to deepen the kiss as he explored the cave of your mouth that he hasn’t tasted for years.
You pushed yourself above him, finally straddling his lap and wrapping both of your arms around his neck as the innocent kiss suddenly turned into a heated one. Tooru would lie if he said that he didn’t miss all of this. The feeling of being intimate with someone that he hasn't given a chance after your break up because he doesn’t want to do this thing if it’s not with you.
Grinding yourself against him, you felt the growing bulge that was now poking your heated core. You couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan that made Tooru halt his action. It turned him on.
“Y/N, do you want to do this?” he asked, eyes now filled with lust. You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth. You could feel your cheeks firing up as embarrassment crept in your soul for wanting him.
“Words, love. I need your consensual words.” he commanded you.
Despite the awkwardness you’re feeling, you couldn’t help yourself especially when you felt him fully erected under you. “Y-yes, Let’s do this.”
That’s all it takes for Tooru to gently place you in the bed and continue kissing your unattended mouth. His hands started roaming around your breasts, squeezing both of it tenderly that earned another moan from you. You felt him smirking against the kiss before he humped above you, aligning his clothed bulge that was restraining against his jeans and rubbing it against your clothed pussy.
It ignited a pool of wetness as you felt the hardness being rubbed in you.
“H-hgggh…Shit,” you cursed, eyes shutting from the luscious friction.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m so hard for you.” Tooru said as he massaged your core with his hand. He felt the wetness leaking from your clothes that made him bite his lip in horniness.
He went down from his position as he pulled the hem of your scrub suits down, completely removing your bottom garment that revealed your wet panties. Tooru mentally cursed at his view. All he did was kiss and teased you and yet, you’re already a pooling mess for him. The way how your body reacts to you is driving him insane.
Slender fingers started circling around your clothed core that sent a jolt of pleasure in your body, making your back arch. Tugging the only piece of your bottoms down, he successfully removed the clothing swiftly. He was welcomed with your dripping pussy for him. He didn’t waste another second and devoured it hungrily, tongue nibbling your clit.
“Ahh!” you let out a loud moan as his warm muscle made contact with your pussy. He was licking and placing soft kisses before alternating it with sharp circles by his tongue. The way he glides his mouth against it was driving you in nuts, almost making you see stars.
“Shit shit Tooru, it feels so good!” you did hesitate to let out another moan when he inserted a finger inside you. When he felt that your walls adjusted to it, he slid another one before moving his digits in and out.
You don’t know what to feel due to the intense pleasure that was being thrown at you when he started scissoring his fingers inside. You felt like you could cum with just his fingers. Tooru’s eyes never left your sight and watched how you’re taking his fingers really good.
“F-fuck, Tooru. Please! I want you…Fuck me! I want to come in your dick,” you pleaded messily as you felt your stomach being tied in knots.
With that, he took his fingers out and started stripping his bottoms. His aching hardened cock finally freed itself and slapped against his abdomen. This wasn’t the first time that you saw Tooru naked and this wasn’t definitely the first time that you saw his member but shit, its length and size never fails to amaze you.
Quickly grabbing his wallet, he took out a piece of rubber which you quickly recognized.
“You really took the condoms earlier?” you asked, eyeing at the packet of condom that is now being torn from its packaging.
“Just a few pieces. For emergency.” he grinned as he slid the rubber on his dick without any problem. You laughed as you already expected that from him.
Positioning himself between your legs, he grabbed the shaft and started rubbing the tip against your pussy, almost teasing you. The damn idiot was smirking the whole time and slammed his dick inside you that made you yelp.
“Fuck! Tooru, what the hell?!”
“You like it rough, don’t you?”
He started rocking his hips slowly before picking a consistent pace that made him groan in pleasure.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet, Y/N. Fuck love, I love you and your pussy so much.” he said in between the thrust like he’s worshiping your whole self. You let out a chuckle that was replaced with erotic sounds as he started thrusting in a much faster pace. You felt your walls being stretched out but at the same time, it felt so good that his dick’s the one who’s stretching you out. Tooru found your g-spot in between the thrust that earned you a loud moan as the waves of electricity slammed your body.
“Yes! There! I-it’s so good! Y-you’re so good!” you moaned out as the same spot was abused by his dick repeatedly.
You felt that he’s nearing because his thrust became incredibly faster and impatient. His face was now grunting as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, lips parted in pleasure. Your stomach starts hardening as your core feels like it’s going to combust anytime. Your insides are tightening so much, indicating that you’re also nearing.
“T-tooru, M’gonna c-cum,”
“Me too, love. Me too.”
He replied incoherently, thrusting a few times more before pulling his member out, coming inside the piece of latex. You also released the coil that is forming inside you before he could even pull his dick out.
The both of you were panting so hard with your legs trembling and chest heaving. Tooru collapses on your top with a smile, kissing your lips once more before burying his face on your neck.
“I love you, Y/N.” he said, which made you let out a genuine smile.
Meanwhile, across the wooden door of the master’s bedroom, Tobio was standing with two cups of your favorite 3-in-1 iced coffee that was meant for you and him, right hand completely frozen on the doorknob’s surface as he listened to the alternating erotic moans launching from each other’s mouth while making love.
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oceanreveuse · 3 months ago
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𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗶 𝘆𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗶
◟fem!reader, sfw, reader wears a sundress, petnames (princess? baby) , maybe ooc isagi, reader + isagi meet during blue lock but this is set post-blue lock, quality time w isagi, a lil suggestive at the end, not proofread! ◟anastasia's footnote : happy birthday to my dearly beloved little sis @reonaissance !! welcome to the big scary world eeek !! i hope i did isagi justice at least a liiiiiiittleeee... i fought my demons to finish this (´;ω;`)
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from the moment you met him, you figured he'd have the mindset to spoil you. it was blatantly obvious from the look in his eyes whenever he'd spotted you across the cafeteria, mindlessly blanking out his friends' words as they spoke to him. if it was anything to go by, it was almost as if his entire world disappeared the second you were in his vicinity - or his line of sight. it was pretty simple why; you were quickly becoming his world.
your birthday perhaps rolls around too quick for your own liking but for ISAGI, it's the best time of year. a chance to truly treat you like a princess where no one will bat an eyelid, he was beginning to grow a little tired of bachira and kunigami's teasing when you was the topic of conversation between the trio - he wouldn't complain usually, he loves to go on about you. in fact, they can almost predict when he's about to start another lovesick babble.
in between training, matches and flying you across the globe with him, isagi tries to keep everything as domestic as possible. he loves you, smitten and knitted together like your fingers on this late summer evening. the skies are pinks, oranges, hues of purple fading in like a watercolour painting. it's been a conversation before, muttered between cotton sheets and a warm breeze through the open window - you found it difficult sometimes to keep travelling with him, to stick at his side wherever he goes. you support him, yes you always will but you knew soon you needed to stay home, to cheer him on through a screen until he returned home.
"you're thinking again, baby," his familiar voice is soothing, eases the irritating repetitive thoughts that nag on your bones like a dog. you turn your attention to those deep blue eyes and a smile caresses your face, squeezing his hand in reassurance, "relax, will you? it's your birthday."
"i know it is," you roll your eyes with a playful huff, amused with his constant reminder that today is your special day. it would feel like a normal day otherwise, if your boyfriend wasn't so insistent. he gives a puppy-like grin in response, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"i have to make sure you know, we can't have you forgetting, y'know?" isagi hums, his blue eyes reflecting the sunset like a body of water - specifically like the lake stood before you, the mirror reflection of the sky disrupted by the ripples.
the breeze blows against your bare legs once again, ruffling the skirt of your sundress and isagi hums in response, eyes flickering down to watch the fabric momentarily. after a few seconds, he lets go of your hand to shuffle behind you, toned arms wrapping around your waist and pulling your back flush to his chest. his body is warm, a personal heater compared the hug of chilling air around the pair of you.
a calloused thumb brushes up and down on your hip, his chin situated on your shoulder as a silence settles between you, comforting when you just lean into his touch, his presence. taking a walk so far from home you got both away from the suffocating air that came with being a footballer and in light of that, the partner of a footballer. not a soul in sight other than a few ducks settled on the water, no loud clicks of press cameras and reporters eager to get a word in with isagi - just the two of you and your breathing.
"happy birthday, princess..." his voice trails off, a delicate kiss pressed to your neck moments after and you hum in response, placing a hand over his. your thumb strokes against the skin of his hand. a small smile decorates your face however isagi is quick to move his hand away, much to your dismay. it trails a path down your waist, the curve of your hip before settling comfortably on your thigh.
isagi's fingers slip under the hem of your sundress, a playful chuckle rumbling against your back as you give him a knowing look over your shoulder, almost a warning, "c'mon, i think i have another present to give you back at the hotel."
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somanyratsinthewalls · 10 months ago
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Burning Hearts Chapter 1
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HI WELCOME TO MY FAVORITE PROJECT! This series is what my fic Prescribed Medicine was loosely based on. I've decided to bring it to life in a multi part series! This chapter is sfw and building background. I will probably post to AO3 since the series lovers live there.
Pairing: Wyvern Devil Fruit Reader (female) x Law
Burning Hearts Chapter 1: A Heated End. A Cold Beginning.
Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?
Background: O/C (Rito Daisy) is a Strawhat Pirate. Long hair, dark brown with a streak of grey hair coming from the crown. Heterochromia, one eye brown and the other grey. O/C (Daisy) has a Zoan devil fruit power, although she is unaware what type of creature it came from. She was forced to ingest the fruit as a slave, therefore is resentful and only uses it when completely necessary. The only powers she has harnessed are black, bat like wings, and refuses to explore her powers further. O/C joined the Straw Hat Pirates a brief time before the Water 7 Arc. 
— —
Chapter 1: A Heated End. A Cold Beginning. 
Milky, iridescent ribbons of northern lights swirled quickly across your range of vision. Were you laying on the ground? You felt your long hair tickling your back, nothing impeding it. With nothing above or behind you, you were whizzing through space and time. You tried to move your hands. 
Your feet. 
Your wings. 
Nothing. You couldn’t move an inch. Your head spun with dizziness and confusion. What happened? Where were you? The last thing you remembered was-
“Wait Sanji-!” You called out after being face to face with the padded paw of Bartholomew Kuma on Sabaody Archipelago. 
“Don’t touch her you brute!” Sanji’s eyes flared with aggression as he aimed a kick towards your attacker. 
And that was the last thing you saw. You had been bested badly by Kizaru and Kuma, just as the rest of your crew had. You knew you had broken bones. You realized this now that the adrenaline had worn off and you could finally feel your injuries. The delicate tissue of your wings was ripped to shreds and you felt it deep in your flesh. You couldn’t even retract your wings and resume your full human form. You were helpless in your involuntary stasis. How long had you been flying away? The northern lights begin to meld together in your vision and your eyelids flutter closed again… 
— — — 
*WOOOOSH* *CRASH*
Your body crashed into the side of a snowy mountain like a dropped bomb. Pine branches snapped. Squirrels and foxes scampered away quickly. Boulders shattered at the sheer force of the impact. For a moment you were able to open your eyes. 
You were blinded by bright white. After a few moments of believing you had died and were ascending into the heavens, the craggy mountainside came into view. But before you could fully assess your situation, the rock face beneath you gave way and you were falling again. 
You scream but your mouth was quickly covered with snow from the incoming avalanche. You feel more of your bones snap. The pain is unbearable. Your head spins… 
— — — 
“Way too fuckin’ cold…” Penguin struggles to lift his legs from the knee deep snow as he trudges towards the woods on the mountain. 
“Captain said to get wood. You wanna tell him you were ‘too cold,’ Penguin?” Ikkaku snapped at her exploration partner while she too, struggled to move through the snow. 
“I’d like to see him out here in this shit! I can barely tell my hand from my dick in this blizzard!” Penguin shot back. 
“That’s probably because you can barely see your- Ooof!” Ikkaku trips over something in her path and takes a nose dive into the fresh powder in front of her. 
“Hah! Karma, bitch!” Penguin laughs and pulls his hat back. Upon clearing his vision, he sees what his crew mate had tumbled over. A pair of denim clad thighs and a slim waist. “Wait… Ikkaku…” 
“What is it? Help me up already!” 
“It’s… it’s a girl!” 
“What?” Ikkaku shakes her head to shake off the snow. 
“There’s some lady buried in the snow! We gotta get her out!” Penguin panics and starts scraping heaps of snow off the frozen body. 
“Oh shit, you’re right. Let’s pull her out.” Ikkaku reaches through the snow until she feels a lifeless skull lolling around. She places a gentle hand behind the body’s neck and pulls it out of the snow. It was a beautiful woman, long brown hair braided with flowers and vines that had been frozen and wilted in the snow, a large grey streak spread from a corner of her forehead. Ikkaku grabs the shoulders while Penguin grabbed the legs of the lifeless form. 
“Why isn’t it moving?” Penguin pulls on the legs. 
“Hmmph! It’s stuck on something… Hmmmpph!” Ikkaku tries to jostle the body free of the ice and snow. The duo pull and push on the body until something finally gives and it is released from the grip of the mountain. Suddenly, on one side of the body, a tattered black wing breaks free from the ice and flops back down. The second wing followed and slumped lifelessly next to the unconscious form. 
“What the hell is this thing?!?” Penguin exclaims. 
“I don’t know…” Ikkaku looks down at the strange person. “But Captain is definitely gonna wanna see this…” 
The two wordlessly agree to carry the body back down to the Heart Pirate safe house at the bottom of the mountain. 
— — 
“Captain! Law! Hurry!” Penguin yells as he runs into the base backwards carrying the legs of the unknown body. 
“Bring it to the med bay, if there’s any chance it’s still alive he’s going to want it in there.” Ikkaku hurries Penguin down the hallway to Captain Trafalgar Law’s surgery room that connected to his secluded office. 
Doors swinging open quickly, the pirates hoist the winged figure up onto the surgery table. The body laid lifelessly on the table while the shredded wings flopped lazily at its sides, tips nearly hitting the floor. Penguin collapsed against the wall behind him, breath heavy from the long, arduous journey back from the mountain with their new addition. 
The door to the adjoining office was flung open. 
“What the hell is this?” Law burst in and began pulling on a pair of blue rubber gloves. 
D, E, A, T, H.
H, T, A, E, D.
He slipped the gloves over each finger and moved towards the surgery table. 
“We found it on the mountain, Captain.” Ikkaku responds. “Under a blizzard and a landslide. I doubt it’s still alive.” 
Law wordlessly peruses the body. He stops by it’s neck and presses two fingers against it’s pulse point. 
E, A.
“There’s a pulse. She’s alive.” 
Ikkaku and Penguin look at each other and their eyes widen. 
“Bepo!” Law shouts. 
“Yes, Captain?” A large polar bear in an orange jump suit enters the operating suite. 
“Ready the surgery room.” Law eyes Penguin and Ikkaku gawking at each other. “You two, prepare for a procedure. Get Shachi too. This won’t be easy.” 
“Aye, Captain!” The duo immediately went to change their uniforms and scrub up for the procedure. 
—- —- —- —- 
“I need more stitches, Bepo.” Law states, muffled by the surgical mask in front of his nose and mouth. 
Law sits on a doctor’s stool sewing up the sinewy flesh on the being’s wings. It had taken him 2 hours, but Dr Trafalgar Law had already sewn up one wing and was finishing the other. It didn’t look good, even Law could admit that. He was just trying to stop the bleeding from the micro veins and tissue in the wing webbing. Bepo had hooked up the creature to machines to monitor its breathing and heart rate. 
“I-It’s a vampire. W-we should have left it out there.” Penguin says from the corner of the operating room. 
“If you can’t be helpful, leave.” Law states calmly without looking up from his work. 
“It’s not a vampire, you idiot.” Shachi remarks from his spot next to the body. “It’s that Straw Hat girl. You guys don’t remember her from the auction house?” 
This peaked Law’s interest. 
“Straw Hat? She’s with his crew?” Law takes a moment from his hunched position over the wing to look at the body’s unconscious face. He notices her button nose, full bottom lip, and her frostbitten skin. Law cocks his head. He remembers her from Sabaody now. She was with the young man in the Straw Hat. He recalls the information on her wanted poster. They had only left the chaos a few days earlier. 
“The botanist…” He mumbles under his breath. 
“Yeah! That’s it! They call her the Earthly Devil… Rito Daisy I think..” Shachi confirms. 
“Daisy…” Law says pensively. He looks at your peaceful face. His gaze lingers for a moment before returning to his work stitching up the flesh of his new patient. 
“Must be a Zoan type.” Bepo says from over Law’s shoulder. “She’s certainly no mink. The question is what kind of Zoan type makes wings like that…” The bear has worry and concern his voice. Law sighs and rises from his chair. 
“It’s not important right now.” He ties off his stitches and moves towards the body’s torso. “We need to set the bones. If we don’t do it now, it’ll be a lot more painful when she’s awake.” 
Law cracks his knuckles.
D, D, E, E, A, A, T, T, H, H. 
His crew members look at him expectantly.
“Well, let’s do it.” 
— —  
Burning. Bright. Fluorescent. 
“Ow… my eyes…” You mumble as you wake from a deep slumber. All you could see was artificial lights and steel ceilings. You knew you were not on the Sunny anymore, ToTo. You try to reach your arm to rub your eyes and found that both of them were shackled to the table you were laying on. 
You were a prisoner. 
Again. 
You heart throbbed in your chest. Your stomach dropped through your whole body. Someone had taken you captive again. How could this happen? You had aligned yourself with the strongest pirates the worst generation had to offer and yet here you were, strapped to a strangers ship just like was 8 years ago. 
“Hey…” You try to sit up.
“HEY!” You pull your body up further. 
“GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! HEY! HEEEEEY!” You try to lurch your body forward but you were met by sharp, extreme pain throughout your whole being. 
“Hey woah hold on relax it’s okay! We’re going to help you!” 
A voice comes from the corner of the room you couldn’t see due to your restraints. 
“Who… who are you! Get away from me! Let me go!” You shouted. 
“I know you’re freaking out right now but I promise we-“ 
You see who the voice was coming from. 
It was an 11 foot tall real-life anthropomorphic polar bear wearing an orange jumpsuit. Your eyes crossed in shock. 
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING CARNIVORE DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” You pull at your restraints, ignoring the searing pain in your body. 
“No no! I wouldn’t! Please stop!” The bear raises his hands in front of his chest to signify he meant no harm, but you would’t believe it. You scream.
“AAAAH!” The metal restraints holding you down to the table broke under your strength, the material melting slightly. 
“CAPTAIN!!!! HELP!!!” The bear shrieked and cowered. 
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” You shouted and pushed yourself off the operating table and into the cabinet across the room, breaking the glass. You honed your eyes in on the polar bear. 
You spread your broken wings and they crash against the furniture in the cramped operating room, knocking over carts full of medical equipment. 
“Shit!” You groan in pain. 
“ROOM.” 
Suddenly, the air around you tuned light blue. You spun your head around, trying to see where the voice came from. 
“Shambles.”
You felt a body behind you. You breathed hard in suspense. 
“Shit, that burns!” An arm around around your torso pulls back. 
“Wha-?” You felt a sharp jab in your neck and then your eyelids closed. 
Three fingers pushed down the plunger of a syringe.
E, A, T. 
— — — —- —- -
“I have to go to Marine Ford. Picking up a patient. You stay here and make sure this patient stays sedated.” 
It had been a week and Law had been taking care of his new patient in his medical bay at the Heart Pirates safe house. Law had made sure that Daisy would stay unconscious during this time, pumping her full of sedatives. He needed the patient’s bones to heal. 
“Keep her sedated. I’ve left the exact measurements of medications in the folder on the desk. Make sure she stays unconscious. If she were to wake up now, the sheer volume of her broken bones would send her into another shock-like state.” Law gives the instructions to Shachi and Penguin. 
“G-got it Captain! You can leave it to us!” Penguin nods at his captain. 
“It might be a few days. Call only if it’s an emergency.” Law tosses Shachi a transponder snail and heads out of the base towards where the Polar Tang was docked, Bepo at his heels. 
“Great. What did you do that landed us in charge of the vampire girl? If she wakes up we are so fucked.” Penguin remarks at Shachi. 
“She won’t wake up. If we keep giving her meds, we’re in there like swim wear. It’s an easy gig.” Shachi laughs. “And if she does, so what? We just shoot her full of one of these…” Shachi grabs a syringe from a medical cart and squirts it into the air. “So what if she’s a Straw Hat? She’s their gardener. She’s about as dangerous as their damn musician. No real threat.” 
“I don’t feel real great about this, Shach…” Penguin remarks while rubbing his brow. 
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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 month ago
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7. Candy Bars with TASM!Peter if it's not been taken already!
2024 Fall Blurbs
Before having a child, you never knew how exhausting Halloween could be. Charlie had surprised you with her resilience, lasting much longer out in the cold than you’d expected, surely motivated by the desire to increase her already full stash of candy. Peter was the designated pillowcase carrier while you tried to reign Charlie in and keep her from running too far ahead from you.
By the time you make it back to your apartment, it’s already been dark for hours and you feel ready to collapse, but Charlie’s practically bouncing off the walls. You help her out of her costume, a half-bat, half-fairy hybrid you’d created when she couldn’t choose one, while Peter heats up the chili you’d made in advance, feeling extremely thankful for your forward-thinking in the past.
The three of you set up in front of the TV, turning on one of the childish Halloween movies that Charlie loves while you eat, holding her candy captive until she finishes her dinner. It’s not long after that she’s fast asleep in a mountain of wrappers, the exhaustion and excitement of the day finally catching up with her. Peter carries her to bed while you clean up the mess from dinner, and then it’s time for your favorite part of the night.
Every year you’ve taken Charlie trick-or-treating, she’s gotten a huge stash of candy that you end up throwing away because it’s never gone by Christmas, when she ends up getting even more candy. So, every year after she goes to bed, you and Peter take about half of her candy and divide it among the two of you, and she never notices a difference.
“Do you feel kinda guilty about this?” Peter asks as he creeps back into the living room, careful not to wake Charlie after the struggle of keeping her asleep through the transfer from the living room to Peter’s arms to her bed.
“Not at all,” you shrug as you dump the candy out onto the coffee table. It’s not like you’re stealing all of her candy or throwing it away without letting her eat any of it, you always leave all of her favorite kinds and you make sure she has more than enough candy to enjoy when you’re done. “And we can always go out and buy more candy if she runs out.”
That seems good enough for Peter, who joins you on the couch and starts to sort through the pile, putting all of Charlie’s favorites off to the side before dividing the rest into three piles, some for you and some for him and some for your daughter. He makes sure to slide all of your favorites into your pile, while you do the same for him, and neither of you need to ask or mention your favorites, you just know.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach the same state your daughter was in only a few hours before, surrounded by a pile of wrappers and feeling sleep tugging at your eyelids, a combination of exhaustion and the crash from all the sugar you’d consumed. Peter makes sure to put all of the leftover candy back in Charlie’s pillowcase, returning it to its overstuffed state despite all the candy the two of you had consumed, before carrying you off to bed.
You’re awake the whole time, but you’re just drowsy enough where you don’t even consider fighting against him, curling against his chest as he carries you off the couch and into bed.
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helpimstuckposting · 1 year ago
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I’m warning y’all now, I think this is my favorite part so far because I have issues
I’m a ghost and you are a shadow
Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven
“We should call your mom,” Nancy nodded.
“My what?” Steve yelled, startled out of his thoughts. The absolute last thing he wanted was for his parents to come home. Why would Nancy even suggest that? He hadn’t seen his parents in years, and he’d very much like to keep it that way.
The crew all trained their eyes on him once more, confusion clouding their faces.
“Your… your mom?” Nancy questioned, uncertainty seeping in over her once-sure suggestion.
“Nance, I haven’t seen my parents since graduation, why would I call them?”
“Graduation?”
“Haven't seen them?”
“Your dads alive?” Dustin interjected over Nancy and Robin. His heart dropped into his stomach.
Steve… Steve couldn’t even begin to process which piece of information was most shocking. His dad was dead? His mom was… here? Present in his life, in the party’s lives? Enough for Nancy to want to call her at least. His dad was dead?
“I..,” he started, but didn’t actually know what to say. He should be happy his mom was here, right? Or… or sad his dad's gone? But what did it even matter, his dad could be dead in his world, too, for all he knew. But, the knowing was what caught him off-guard.
Instead of finishing his sentence or responding to the party, he pushed himself to his feet and followed the path back outside.
“Nice going, dipshit,” he faintly heard Max say before a smack and an ouch sounded from behind him. He kept going.
The pool wasn’t empty, like he’d left it in his world. He didn’t even notice the first time while trudging past it in the blinding sunlight. Now, he could see the rays of light reflect off the water like sparkles, glittering as if this was any other day, like everything was as it should be. He sat down at the edge, knees drawn up to his chest and watched as a few leaves floated by.
The sun pricked at the skin on his face, and he closed his eyes against the bright daylight. The orange glow behind his eyelids helped to calm his racing thoughts, though there was nowhere else for his mind to really go. So much had happened in just one morning, more than had ever happened when dealing with The Upside Down from his perspective. At least during their most hectic days they were all on the same page, all huddled together to fix something obviously wrong. Now, however overwhelming his excitement at having his family back was, was this really right? Now he was the outsider, he was the thing out of place. But, did he even want to go back to his world? There was nothing there for him.
Nancy, his worlds Nancy, and Jonathan had gone off to separate colleges. The surviving kids were all off at different schools for their senior years, Steve didn’t even know where they planned to go after graduation.
He had tried to go to college. He’d followed his father’s expectations again, tried to sink into a mindless pattern of following tasks, hoping to keep his mind off of everything.
He’d lasted one semester before dropping out. It was all just so exhausting, the world had almost ended and no one even knew. What did calculus matter at that point? He’d spent so long following his father's orders, so long reciting a script he’d been taught since birth. He thought it would be easy to slip back into that routine, follow the script like it’d been waiting for him to return.
It had been fine for a while, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his head, focused on completing assignments and tasks and doing anything to keep his mind on autopilot. But the dreams he couldn’t stop. Every time he’d closed his eyes, he was back there, watching his friends die. His nights were covered in blood and vines, screaming and squealing of bats from above a dried out lake. He wasn’t able to follow the script anymore, enough swigs of alcohol were the only things that kept the nightmares at bay.
He’d had panic attacks when the phone would ring, thinking it may have been his parents to tell him what a failure he was, or worse that they were coming home and he had to pretend everything was normal, put on the act of the perfect son. They never called, though. The panic attacks stopped after a while, the ringing phone drowning out into the background. The calls weren’t usually important. He was alone, trapped in his pristine tower.
But now his father, the Richard Harrington of this world was dead. His mother didn’t have anyone to follow on business trips, no one to keep an eye on to maintain a marriage neither wanted. She was here. Here for the party, here for this world’s Steve.
What would she say when she saw him? Would she be surprised? Happy like the people in the living room? Or would she be suspicious of this new person wearing her sons face? Suspicious like Eddie, who still hadn’t shown his face since the kitchen. Steve figured he was upstairs somewhere, hiding out until Steve was gone.
Or... or even worse, was she exactly like he'd known her to be? Would she hang up the phone, think it was a prank call or that it just didn't concern her? Would he get his hopes up and then have his world crash down once more at the realization that she still didn't care about him?
Every possibility just sucked. The weight on his chest that had lifted since the kitchen was back, pressing incessantly on his lungs, clogging his throat. No matter the outcome, no matter who this world's Linda Harrington was, Steve couldn't see any of this going well. He hoped the crew in the living room hadn't called her yet, wondered if maybe he could convince them not to at all.
He glanced up to the second floor of the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of curly brown hair or a flash of a ripped black t-shirt but the windows remained empty. The blinds to his bedroom window were shut tight and for a moment Steve pictured Eddie sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting anxiously until Steve was gone. He could picture the man’s leg bouncing nervously as he chewed on his nails, boots tap tap tapping gently against the hardwood floors. He could see the band tee and torn jeans a stark contrast against his horrible tan plaid walls. A soft smile tugged at his lips before Steve remembered why Eddie would be nervous in the first place. He wasn’t their Steve. This wasn’t his house. That wasn’t his Eddie.
Just when Steve started to wish he wasn’t alone, Robin made her way out of the back door and Steve felt his eyes prick again. She sat quietly next to him, drawing her own legs up in a mirror to his.
“We didn’t call your mom,” she whispered, before he even opened his mouth. Steve imagined that even in infinite worlds, every Robin could read every Steves' mind. He choked back a sob and buried his face in his knees. Her head rested against his shoulder and they stayed quiet for a few more minutes, just being present in a universe where they were both whole again.
Once Steve had had enough of the silence, felt it cloying around the edges, slinking over his skin like oil, he opened his mouth to speak. He wasn’t sure where he was going with his words or what would come out, he just started to talk.
“When you were little, did you ever go the department store with your mom and just… wonder how long you could hide before she noticed you were missing?” He started.
Robin didn’t nod or speak, just let him continue.
“I did,” he said. “I would hide in the racks of clothes and just… sit there. I’d usually get scared and come out and she wouldn’t say anything or do anything, and I was never sure if she even knew I'd been hiding.
“But, one time I just… stayed. Just to see. I didn’t care if she got mad, I wanted her to get mad or, or scared, or just… anything.”
He didn’t know why he was telling her this. He didn’t want pity or for her to feel bad for him, but once he started talking he just couldn’t stop, like a compulsion. It felt like he was throwing up these words all over the pavement, choking them out of his throat. At least he was telling her this piece of his past, and not something else he'd rather keep hidden for now.
“She left me there,” he whispered. “I don’t know if she did it as a punishment or forgot she even took me, but she was just… gone.”
He felt Robin choking up beside him, like his words were clogging her throat as well.
“She sent the nanny to pick me up.”
“You had a nanny?” Robin cut in, lifting her head off his shoulder. Steve just gave her a blank stare. “Sorry, right, not the point. Continue.” He took in her red rimmed eyes, took comfort in the fact that she was crying for him, though he felt awful for it.
“I was six. I never hid after that. I was too scared that it would happen again. She didn’t cry or yell when she found out I was missing, just sent the nanny and then gave me this… look, when I got back home. Like I was gum on her shoe, like I was an inconvenience.
“Eventually she stopped taking me and just left me at home. And then both of them just… left. Came back every few months just to leave again and after graduation they just stopped coming back at all. Even after the earthquake, they didn’t come back.”
He paused, wrapping an arm around Robin’s shoulders. He just needed to hold something, it was more for his comfort than hers. His emotional support Robin.
“I just,” he trailed off, not really sure where he was meant to be going with this. He just wanted her to know. Wanted someone to know, about him, about this stranger thrust into their lives. He wondered how the other Steve had lived, what his childhood was like. When did he meet Robin? Or Eddie? Did he have friends that Steve never even met in his world? Or was it all the same people?
“I just wouldn’t know what to do if I saw her again, is all,” he muttered in closing. Robin still didn’t say anything, just let them sit and hold each other. He missed this. He missed Robin. He missed having another half of himself, someone who didn’t feel like another person. Whenever they touched it felt like his own skin, like an extension of himself folding together and existing as it should and he hadn’t felt whole in so long.
“We’ve gotta tell her at some point, Stevie,” she said. “She lives here too, and she won’t be gone all day. I’m sure it would freak you both out if she just showed up and saw you.”
Steve nodded. He squeezed her shoulder a little tighter.
“Okay. But can we wait a little bit? Just an hour?”
Robin tucked her head into Steves neck and nodded. “Just an hour.”
Oh boy oh boy I really loved writing this one! Hope it’s as satisfying to read ✨
@weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03 @bestwifehaver @mentallyundone @13catastrophic-blues
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insidekatmind · 29 days ago
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SOMENTHING SPECIAL ~Vinicius jr
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Warning: +18, smut, English is not my first language
On one of the luxurious evenings in Madrid, Vinicius Jr., Jude Bellingham and Kylian Mbappé were the center of attention in one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. The three friends used to celebrate until late at night, with reserved tables, expensive bottles and looks of admiration wherever they landed.
Vinicius, with a cheeky and confident smile, smiled at his friends as he poured himself yet another glass. Jude laughed at a not particularly brilliant joke, while Kylian shrugged his shoulders, amused by his friend's bravado.
“Dude, I think you're getting bored here,” Jude said, patting him on the shoulder. “By now every girl here has already tried to talk to you at least once.”
Vinicius burst out laughing. “And it's not my fault that they all fall in love with me, Jude.”
Just then, a movement caught Vinicius' attention.
You were walking into the club looking charming and confident.
“Wow, who is that?” Kylian asked, noticing you
Vinicius straightened his jacket with a cocky smirk. “We'll find out, leave it to me.”
---
Vinicius approached you with his usual conquering air. “Hi, I'm Vinicius,” he said in a tone that emphasized his fame, expecting an adoring smile in response.
You raise an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. "Ah, the footballer."
Vinicius paused for a moment, surprised by your reaction. "Aren't you interested in knowing anything else?"
You smiled calmly. “Only you should stop thinking that the world revolves around you.”
Vinicius was silent for a moment, speechless, and Jude and Kylian, who had been eavesdropping, stifled their laughter.
“You're... very direct,” Vinicius admitted, masking his surprise with a smile.
“And you seem very used to getting what you want,” you replied without batting an eyelid, sipping your drink.
Vinicius was not accustomed to encountering resistance; normally a smile was enough and the girl in question would fall at his feet. However, that evening, he felt caught between the desire to impress and the irritation of rejection.
---
Weeks passed, and Vinicius found every excuse he could to see you again. He invited you to exclusive events, offered you expensive gifts, but you continued to treat him with the same indifference.
Jude and Kylian, who had initially joked about how fixated Vinicius seemed, were now starting to realize that you presented a unique challenge to him.
One evening, after training, Vinicius invited you to dinner.
“Why would I accept an invitation from a playboy like you?” You asked, staring at him
Vinicius half-smiled. “Because maybe I could surprise you.”
You laughed, almost amused. “There are few things that can surprise me, Vinicius. But I accept, just because I like challenges.”
---
That evening at dinner, Vinicius decided to behave differently. He wanted to impress you, he wanted to show you that he wasn't just the arrogant image everyone saw. But, with you, it wasn't easy to keep calm, you drove them crazy, they wanted you.
“So, Vinicius,” you began, as you shared a dessert, “what do you want out of life?”
Vinicius was silent for a moment, such a simple question, yet so difficult. He wasn't used to thinking long term; his life had always been a continuous race between fame and parties. “I think I want to be happy. Continue to win, be loved by the public..."
You looked at him for a few moments, as if you wanted to dig deeper. “And do you think all this really makes you happy? Don't you think all this attention is... superficial?”
Vinicius realized that, for the first time, someone had confronted him with an uncomfortable truth. Maybe what attracted him to you wasn't just your beauty or charm, but the fact that you could see him for who he was, beyond the mask he'd been wearing for years.
You weren't fascinated by luxury cars, exclusive parties or the spotlight. You saw Vinicius as a boy, perhaps a little confused, who had never really had the courage to look inside himself.
Vinicius looked down, playing with his fork. “You know, no one has ever asked me these things. People… tend to only see the image of Vinicius, not what's behind it.”
You tilted your head slightly, smiling slightly. “Maybe because you let him.”
That sentence hit Vinicius like a punch. It was true: he had always allowed others to see him as the rich, spoiled boy, perhaps because it was easier that way. But now, for the first time, he felt the need to be vulnerable and show you that there was more to him than just his image.
Vinicius smiled and slowly approached you for fear of doing something wrong. Seeing that you hadn't said or done anything, he kissed you softly and you reciprocated.
Vinicius moaned into the kiss, smelling your vanilla scent that was intoxicating him and trying to bring you closer and closer; he sucked your lip and you moaned and that sound drove him crazy and he pulled away while he licked his lips and looked at you with desire.
“Why don't we bring this to my house?” He said patting your thigh and you immediately nodded.
•••
“Baby,” you moaned as Vinicius thrust into you once more.
You were stuck between his bed and his muscular body, but you weren't complaining in fact you wanted more.
Even though he had prepared you with three fingers before, you were still tight around his big cock and you were feeling the stars.
Vinicius kept thrusting further and further as he sucked on your neck leaving hickeys and then moved down to your tits to touch, nibble and suck as he thrust harder into you.
"V-Vini, please" you said with difficulty, you couldn't connect a word, the feeling of his cock inside your pussy was too good.
Vinicius groaned as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock and he went harder and faster.
“You make me feel so good” you moaned as you scratched his back as he went harder and harder making you come.
After four more thrusts he came inside you too.
You both were looking at each other and kissed each other passionately and you both smiled.
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storiesbyrhi · 1 year ago
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: It's time to wake up. 2292 words.
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1986
Eddie remained still as he watched over your spell-induced sleep. Your eyes were darting back and forth behind your eyelids and your lips parted to allow fast shallow breaths to pull in and out. After twenty minutes, Eddie moved from under you so he could scoop you up and take you to the bed. He laid you upon it like a knight with a princess, then crawled in next to you.
He remained vigilant. Vigilant and hopeful.
Precisely one hour after you drank the rosemary potion, your eyes fluttered open. He didn’t know what he had expected exactly, but it was not nothing. You said nothing. Did nothing. Just stared up at the peeling paint of the trailer’s ceiling. 
As softly as he could, Eddie said your name but gained no response. A second attempt, cooing, “My little witch? Are you there?”
You blinked hard a few times. Slowly you pushed yourself into a sitting position, the movements so heavy it looked like it hurt. With some hesitation, your gaze settled on Eddie.
He took one of your hands in his and while it was grounding, it wasn’t enough. He watched as you crumpled, face twisting with sadness and body curling in on itself. You sobbed so hard your body shook as if it was the epicenter of an earthquake.
Between the cries and the hyperventilating, you couldn’t catch your breath. You pushed away from Eddie and tried to stand, but fell to the floor. Eddie was immediately at your side, but you forced him away again and stayed where you were on all fours.
Body convulsing, brain short-circuiting, you were a mess quickly deteriorating into something worse. Once well-trodden neural pathways that had been gated away were suddenly walked. Old emotions were raw and new. Knowledge that felt dangerous when only a hypothesis was now proven and true, and it was like poison in your veins.
You threw up on the carpet, then backed away, scurrying into a corner and hugging your legs to your chest. As you began a self-soothing rock, everything got louder and louder until you could no longer process any of it. The cup was running over. The volume could not be turned higher. There were too many colours and now all you could see and feel was white hot white.
When you went still in the corner, Eddie was relieved for only a moment before the fear set in that you’d not recover from this. He stood and got to work cleaning the puke from the floor as a distraction. You didn’t watch him, your eyes glazed over and unfocused. Dead, almost.
The glass of water Eddie brought to you did nothing to stir you. When he took your hand, trying to get you to at least hold the thing, he found your body was limp and pliable, like a sad ragdoll.
With one of your mixtapes on, Eddie sat by your side and held your hand. A human would have given up earlier, not out of a lack of will, but by the demand of their body. Sitting still for hours on end was not natural. Eddie, though, could play statue well.
The day had been long – grieving teens in the morning and spellcasting in the afternoon. Now, a little before midnight, Eddie was swallowing the feeling of panic. You’d been catatonic for a little over five hours.
With no words spilling from your mouth to tell him how you felt, Eddie had to make do with other hints. He could hear your heartbeat. It was steady, calm. At least you were not in the fits of a panic. However, the rhythmic pulse was an uneasy thing – too normal in an entirely abnormal situation.
Your skin did not feel any hotter than usual. No fever setting in. Similarly, you weren’t shaking anymore. No trembling hands.
It was your scent that told him the most. Almost overpowering your baseline of sweetpea and black birch was the smell of fear. It was a sad kind of fear. Nectar from a melancholy flower. Then, the sharp smell of urine. Any power you had over your own body was gone.
Eddie clenched his jaw and swallowed a whining sound of misery. “I’ll run you a bath, my love,” he whispered to you before leaving you alone.
Out in the night, Eddie picked wildflowers and collected leaves from a sassafras tree. He returned in minutes, filling the tub with hot water for you as you once had for him. He brewed a bath of petals and Epsom salt.
Although it came as no surprise, it still hurt to find you exactly how he’d left you. There was no resistance as he began to undress you, but Eddie still asked for permission and told you what was happening. He didn’t know if you were conscious, if you were there behind those unfocused eyes. So, he narrated it all.
“I’m sorry. We are almost done,” he said. “I’m going to take these off then we’ll put you in the bath. Does that sound good?”
Eddie peeled your underwear off with a clinical sort of tenderness. He picked you up like a bride and brought you to the bath. Before lowering you into the water, he checked the temperature again. If it was too hot, you would probably boil before crying out.
He watched your face for micro expressions and checked your skin for heat. When he was sure you were okay, Eddie began to talk.
“I believe you would be proud of me,” he started. “Salt and yarrow to help you heal. You had those stocked in your little apothecary. The flowers are all fresh. Both the woundwort and vervain are healers too. You once told me that plants have many names, but often their use finds its way into the names too. Heal-all is another name for woundwort, and vervain is the holy herb. Lastly, the leaves. I forget the name of the tree, the one that smells nice. You said it was good that it grows easily, for its usefulness is endless.”
Eddie was struck by his ability to remember these details. He felt as though he could hear your voice, your lessons, come through his own as he recalled knowledge of the natural world.
“I left them whole,” he said, picking up one of the sassafras leaves and twirling it by its stem. “They’re a nice shape. And, if they do nothing to help, at the very least they have provided some coverage.” Eddie glanced down at the water where your body was mostly hidden beneath the green.
After some time in silence, Eddie carefully pulled your body back up from where you had slipped into the water a little too much. The water was lukewarm, and he considered what he would do next.
“I wish I was powerful like you. I wish I could recite a spell and bring you back.”
When the water lost its heat, Eddie took you back to the bedroom. He gently dried you with the softest towel he could find, then dressed you in what he had observed you wearing to bed. Under the covers, Eddie pulled you close to him, holding your back to his chest and keeping you safe.
At 3:00 am, the witching hour, your eyes closed and you fell into an exhausted sleep.
The light was blinding. You instinctively closed your eyes, raising a hand to shield yourself from the brightness. Someone said your name, but it sounded like all the names you’d ever had. From the first – to Amabel – to the one you wore now. Then, the light was blocked by a figure standing before you.
When you dropped your hand and looked at them, they looked like every witch that had met a fate riding a white horse. The Witches Who Came Before. All of them, all at once.
“You cannot stay here,” they said. It was strange to hear their voice. Voices. A chorus of women singing a singular note.
“It hurts,” you told them.
“Of course it hurts. Still, you cannot stay here.”
You looked around. Where was here? You could focus on any one thing, your gaze fuzzy and the light obscuring your view of your surroundings.
“This changes everything,” you tried to explain. “I didn’t know there could be this kind of… betrayal.” If a witch did something bad it was usually brutal but simple. Black magic. Conspiring. It changed the fabric of your understanding of the world to know a witch could do to their sister what had happened to you.
“Are you to abstain yourself from guilt and agency?”
“I… I never meant…” but your argument trailed off. No, you had not intended to hurt anyone by spending time with Eddie in 1836. Yet, had you been wrong about him, your coven and the humans would have been put at an even greater risk than they were already at. Regardless of your intentions, you did lie to your coven.
“And they only meant to protect, as is a witch’s calling,”
“If I had gone to them from the beginning. If I had told them there was a vampire who was not like the others. That he could love and be loved. That, in the war, he could be an ally… Do you think they would have listened?”
“We are not to know what may have come to pass. It is done. History will not-”
“Repeat itself. I know. You’ve said,” you interrupted them. “And lore will be rewritten,”
“And so, you must leave. You cannot stay here.”
For a moment, you gazed in awe at the ever-changing face. Monstrous and magnificent. Then, it slowed and stilled to a recognisable image. “Penelope?”
“Amabel.”
You genuinely didn’t know what you wanted to do more – throw a punch or a hug.
Like she could see the internal fight written all over you, she smiled and said, “I know, child. We are not to know what may have come to pass. But in our duty to learn from history, we concede error. The Witches were not consulted in 1836. This was an error.”
Before you could say anything, Penelope was just another face in the mix. You figured that was as close to an apology as you were ever going to get.
“I miss you,” you told her. “I miss you all so, so much,”
“You cannot stay here,” they said again. “There are loose ends to thread.”
In a split second, the bright had gone dark and you were left in the cold.
The first thing you sensed was a heaviness holding you in place. Eddie. You were in a vampire cage, enclosed in his arms as he held onto you for dear life. Then, the bedroom, as you had left it. Everything seemed normal. As if you had simply woken up on a normal morning with your normal boyfriend in a normal life.
You took a sharp breath in, deliberate and controlled. It propelled Eddie to action. He said your name once, twice, then a third time as he let you go and flipped you to face him. His eyes darted across your features, searching for signs of recognition.
It was an uncanny feeling, laced with malaise. There was a part of you that naturally went to react as you would have before you recovered your memories. You were just a witch who came to Hawkins to help. He was just a lost vampire you saved. The other part of you though, the one who could feel herself becoming whole again, she wanted to react very differently.
You didn’t act on either impulse though. Instead, you let Eddie hold your face and pat your hair and make that big wet eyed look at you. He said your name for the fourth time.
“Are you there?” he asked. “Are you with me?”
You nodded.
His worried expression broke out into a grin then he kissed your forehead. “Yes? Yes. I… You…” He didn’t know where to start. Couldn’t work out what was vital information. What were the easy questions?
Your throat was scratchy, your mouth dry. Although you felt a small headache coming on and some achy muscles, a calmness washed over you.
Finally. Finally, you were where you ought to be.
“My sweet, lonely vampire.”
Eddie whimpered and pulled you into another tight embrace. “Little witch? My little witch? Are you-”
“I’m here,”
“You’re here?”
“I’m here.”
It happened so differently from how you would have guessed. How you would have written it, if your life had been a story in a book about witches and vampires. There would have been a deep and passionate kiss. You would find yourself in the taste of Eddie’s lips. Maybe, he’d bite down and speak the binding words, blood of my blood, into your red mouth. And, if the story was for adults rather than children, which you certainly hoped it would be, you would curl naked limbs around each other. You would find equilibrium in the space between fucking and making love.
But it wasn’t like that.
With your foreheads pressed together, you both closed your eyes. Eddie had one arm wrapped under you. His free hand found yours, threaded fingers together, and held them between the two of you. That’s how you stayed for a long time, nuzzling against each other, quiet and happy.
There would be time for words and sex and action. Supernaturally sweeping lifespans and eons to spend together. In the wake of the newly understood 1836, all you wanted to do was simply exist with him. With Eddie, your uncursed creature of the night. Your soulful vampire. Your star-crossed lover. Your blood. Your heart. Your home.
End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington and @munson-blurbs for helping with this chapter. So.... THOUGHTS? FEELINGS? What do you think she wants to say to her coven now? What would you want to do, if you were in her position?
Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16
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