#god I’m just trying to cling to anything that makes me feel alive

[chamomiletealeaf]

Follow up of the Alone mission:

Ghost and Johnny fucking you in the truck

HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅🦅

This turned way way longer than intended but enjoy this straight up porn 🙏😭

Warnings: afab! fem reader, tiniest bit of angst at the beginning, pervy Simon and Johnny, tit play, nipple play, threesome, eiffel tower position, dacryphilia, creampie, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, spanking, face slapping

Tensions and adrenaline were high. You and Simon waited for Johnny at the church and finally escaped with him in some truck you found.

It was scary. When Johnny didn’t answer over comms you automatically assumed the worst. You and Simon looking at each other eyes wide waiting for his response. You began to panic, gripping Simon’s bicep in anticipation and you both let out the breaths you were holding in when you finally heard his voice.

He managed to make it out alive. He made it back to you two… alive… You were all soaking wet from the rain, but none of you even noticed given the circumstances.

And as you sat in the backseat, Johnny in the passenger seat, and Simon driving away to safety, you finally let your guard down a little bit.

You leaned forward in the middle console and placed a hand on Johnny’s cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone, tears of pure joy starting to fill your eyes.

“You ok lass?” Johnny asks as he takes your hand.

“Yeah. I’m just, happy you’re ok.” You say with a smile, taking in the moment that he’s real. He’s there with you. And he’s ok.

“Oh bonnie.” He laughs. “It’s gonna take much more than sneaking past a bunch of eejits to lose me.” He reassures you and you laugh.

After about 10 minutes into the drive or so, going god knows where, you all start to feel the weight of your wet clothes, as well as the coldness.

You notice how the soaking wet pants on Johnny and Simon cling to their thick cocks, giving you a perfect outline of just how big they are.

You shift in your seat, blushing, and try to avert your eyes.

Under your tac vest, which was getting pretty heavy from the water absorbed by it, so you take it off, was a white T-shirt that had nothing under it.

You weren’t wearing a bra since you didn’t expect to be thrown into an emergency mission and didn’t have time to do anything other than throw on your tac vest and other gear.

Your T- shirt, sopping wet, clings to your chest showing off your nipples that have hardened from the cold.

You don’t notice it at first, until you catch Simon looking at you through the rearview mirror making him swerve a little. He wasn’t looking at your eyes though. And that’s when you look down and see just how exposed you are.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself and cross your arms to hide them.

Simon clears his throat to ease the awkwardness between you two and announces that the truck is going to run out of gas.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Simon says, and you and Johnny look at him.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Fuckin’ trucks nearly empty. Thank god we’re in a remote area. It’s safe enough to wait here until Price can meet us.” He states, and Johnny sighs.

There was nothing for miles where you were, and it was better to be stranded here than in another Shadow infested neighborhood. Base was still a long ways to go anyway.

Simon pulls the truck over onto a shoulder of the road by some bushes to keep the vehicle somewhat hidden.

“This should do for now.” And he contacts Price on comms letting him know where they are.

“Price is on his way with Laswell. Give or take an hour or so.” Simon says and you sit in silence for a moment.

“It’s fuckin’ cold as hell.” You say shivering, trying to find something to say to lighten the mood.

“Me fucking too. Think I might come back there with you lass. Body heat might do us good.” Johnny says with a smirk and winces trying to get over the center console into the back with you and you giggle.

Simon watches you two make light of the situation and how your arms are still crossed as Johnny playfully snuggles up into your side.

“Fuck might as well.” Simon mumbles as he gets out the truck and moves into the back with you two.

You’re now soaking wet, in the middle of nowhere at night, in a truck with two big, thick, beefy men who are also soaked to the bone.

To anyone else, this may seem like their worst nightmare. But to you? This was heaven.

“Aren’t you two gonna take those off? It’s probably making the cold worse.” You say, referring to all their soaking wet heavy gear still strapped to their bodies.

Simon just looks at you, really wondering if you really just asked him if he’s gonna take off his gear as if he’s not always on guard.

“You know lass, if you wanted us to take our clothes off you could’ve just asked nicely.” Johnny says with a smirk and you playfully push him with your arm, revealing your bare tits to him through your wet, white shirt.

Johnny notices and his face changes. He’s no longer playful and he looks at you, and then at Simon, who he can tell has a smirk on under his mask.

You notice the energy shift and their eye contact and you get confused.

“What?” You ask them, looking back and forth between them.

“You know, we’ve got a bit of time to kill.” Simon says to the both of you and Johnny smirks.

“Aye, we do. Good thing we have this pretty little thing to keep us company.” Johnny says back and grabs your chin so you look at him.

You squeeze your legs together and arch your back a bit as you feel your pussy throb and flood with warmth at the thought of what they’re implying.

Simon laughs darkly at your obvious aroused reaction and he runs a hand up your thigh while he leans in to your ear.

“What do you say love, wanna kill some time?” Simon whispers and you whimper, turning your head back to Simon, but Johnny catches your jaw in his grasp and directs your gaze back to him. It’s then Johnny’s turn to whisper to you as he leans in, hand still grasping your jaw as he brushes his lips against your ear.

“C’mon dollie, might as well, especially when those pretty little nipples of yours look so ready to be played with.” He whispers, the smirk returning to his face when he notices your gasp, then he moves to suck on your neck making you whine.

“Been starin’ at ‘em ever since she got in the car.” Simon says to Johnny.

“So that’s- wh- mm, why we almost crashed then.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, not wanting to seem like you submitted to them so easily.

Simon moves his hand from your thigh up to pinch your nipple making you squeal.

“Oi watch your mouth dovey, or else I’ll have to put it to better use.” He says and you moan.

“C’mon bonnie. Let us play with you hm?” Johnny asks against your neck.

“Mmph. Yeah. Yeah, please. Want you both.” You stutter out, and Johnny smiles against your skin, immediately grabbing your hips and turning you so your back is to Simon and you’re now facing him.

He grabs your legs and yanks off your cargos, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He then attacks your nipple with his mouth, sucking through the stretched out sopping wet T-shirt that’s now see through that’s attempting to cover you.

He brings his other hand to squeeze at your other breast and Simon repositions himself so your back is against his chest.

Simon then lifts his balaclava up just above his nose and places a hand under your jaw, making you tilt your head just enough so he can suck on your neck.

You moan loudly, trying to bite your lip to muffle it.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart. No one out here to hear you but us. Let us hear you.” Simon says, and you let out a loud gasp when Johnny lightly bites at your nipple through your shirt.

Johnny pulls away from your tits and brings his hands up to squeeze them together, making the fabric of your shirt bunch and water gather between your tits, eventually spilling down your chest.

“Fuck me. Look at these bonnie fuckin’ tits. Look so pretty peekin’ through this shirt of yours.” He says right before smushing his face between your tits, lapping at the water dripping down from between them.

Simon stops sucking your neck and grunts.

“Alright mate move, you’ve had your turn.” Simon says and pushes his head away from you with a gloved hand making him huff in protest.

Johnny complies like the good boy he is and moves back to your neck all the way up to your lips where he begins to sloppily make out with you as Simon massages your tits.

His gloved hands feel so nice and rough against your soft tits and he squeezes them, making you arch your back and whimper.

He tweaks your nipples through your shirt before gathering them and jiggling them, wanting to really feel just how heavy or light they are.

“Fuck you’re right Johnny. Such perfect tits.” He says.

Then, Johnny moves down between your legs, biting at your thighs while Simon brings his hand up to your mouth.

“Take it off.” Simon demands, and you bite the edge of his glove allowing him to free his hand from it.

“Good. Other one now.” He says, and you bite the other glove, freeing his other hand.

He tosses the gloves aside and squeezes your tits with his bare hands this time, really getting a chance to feel them.

He bucks his hips and groans involuntarily into your back at the feeling of your nipples and the softness of your skin, even through the t-shirt.

Simon leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Didn’t know you had all this hidin’ under that tac gear this whole time lovey fuck.”

And you squeeze your legs around Johnny’s head at his words.

Johnny moans and moves up to suck at your clit through your panties, soaked from the rain and from your arousal.

“Oh fuck Johnny. Yeah like that.” You moan, and he wraps his arms around your thighs keeping you in place.

But you buck your hips too much, pleasure from Simon groping your tits and whispering to you and Johnny pretty much eating you out through your panties was too much.

“Mm. Keep her still for me aye?” Johnny says, muffled by your pussy against him and Simon moves his hands to grip your hips so tight you know it’ll bruise.

“Yeahh that’s it.” Johnny says, and he moves your panties to the side before he attacks your clit with his tongue, and you try to arch your back but Simon holds you down in place.

Johnny tongue fucks you, shaking his head back and forth and up and down making sure he hits every spot inside and outside of you. Lewd slurping noises fill the truck as well as soft praises from Simon and your panting.

“You gonna cum on Johnny’s face? hm? He must be doing a good job from the way I can feel you tensing. Him acting like a fucking mutt finally did him some good yeah?” Simon teases both of you, which just makes Johnny want to get you off faster.

“Watch it L.T., or I’m not sharing.” Johnny says and Simon just scoffs back.

“Yeah ok Johnny.” He teases with a smirk.

Johnny then slides two fingers into you and finger fucks you at an unrelenting pace just to show Simon he can make you cum.

“Oh- J- Johnny fuck, slow down.” You squeal out, the feeling of him stretching you so quickly being so good.

Instead he curls his fingers, hitting that perfect spot and he begins sucking on your clit again.

You reach down to grab Johnny’s hair and reach back behind your head to grip onto Simon.

“That feel good bunny? You like having Johnny play with your sweet little pussy?” Simon asks, ghosting his lips over your neck and leaving butterfly kisses on your cheek bone.

“Yeah. F-feels so good. Fuck Johnny. I’m- oh my god I’m gonna squirt.”

“Do it lovey, make a mess on Johnny’s face.” Simon says, and Johnny hums in agreement with him, and that’s all it took.

Johnny pumps his fingers into you a few more times as well as a few more licks and sucks to your clit and your legs begin to shake around him.

Your eyes roll back and you let out a squeaky moan as you squirt all on Johnny’s fingers and face, one hand in his hair as you bite your thumb on your other.

Johnny moans as he feels you make a mess all over his face and Simon lets out a multitude of praises.

“Oh fuck that’s it. Yeah. Holy shit, such a perfect pretty little thing. That’s it, cum for Johnny.”

You pulse around Johnny’s fingers and on his tongue as you orgasm and you fall limp letting the aftershocks take over, making your pussy pulse less rhythmically.

“Fuck lass.” Johnny says breathlessly.

“Didn’t think you were a squirter.” He smirks at you and you playfully hit his shoulder.

“Sorry I- I didn’t mean to-” You try and apologize while you catch your breath.

“None of that. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Johnny reassures and Simon hums in agreement.

“Fuck yeah it was.” Simon says.

“Now on your knees dovey, we’re not done with you yet.” Simon says as he lifts you up by your hips to position you so your ass is pressed against his front, and your face is in front of Johnny’s fully hard cock nearly bursting through his pants.

The space in the back of the truck is tight, and you don’t have much room, but you didn’t mind, being smushed between two thick cocks and all.

Simon rips your panties down from your legs and gives your ass a spank, making you jolt forward, pressing your cheek into Johnny’s covered, hard cock which makes him hiss.

“Here mate, catch.” Simon says before he tosses your panties to Johnny, which he then stuffs in your mouth.

“Such a pretty wee thing she is aye L.T.?” Johnny asks Simon, rubbing his thumb over your open lips stuffed with your own soaked panties.

Simon rubs his hands up and down your back to your ass, giving it three hard smacks making you whine.

Simon laughs at your reaction then says,

“That she is. Such a perfect little fuck doll.” Simon says as he pulls his leaking cock out and smacks it against your ass.

“Fuck. Gonna be in your stomach love.” He says when he thrusts forward pushing his cock up your back to see how far inside you he’s going to be.

He then leans forward and whispers in your ear.

“Is this alright sweets?" He asks before doing anything else, and you press your ass back into him.

"Yes. Please." You whine, voice muffled from the panties in your mouth so you nod your head as well.

"Ooh such a good girl, sayin' please without even being asked." Simon states pleasantly.

Simon then lines himself up with you and slowly starts to stretch you out with his thick length, making the both of you moan.

You grip Johnny's thigh in front of you for leverage as Simon slowly starts to fuck you.

"Fuckkk love, such a tight little pussy. You're fuckin' perfect." He says as he grips your hips, beginning to go faster.

Soon, he's slamming into you from behind and pulling almost all the way out so you can feel every detail of his cock in you, rubbing against your walls perfectly. The damp skin from the rain making the clapping noises louder than normal and both men watch how the water makes your ass shiny.

He speeds up, thrusting you forward into Johnny and he grabs your chin so you look up at him.

You're whining and whimpering despite your panties shoved in your mouth, Simon's cock pounding your pussy just right and Johnny holds your chin in his fingers so he can watch you cry from pleasure.

"Aww look at that. Poor little lass can't take it. That cock feels too good hm? Look so pretty crying like that. Such a wee pretty thing." Johnny coos at you as he runs his thumb over your lips again spread apart from your panties stuffed between them.

Then, Johnny grabs your hair and smushes your face against his erection, cheek squishing against him harder pushing you forward each time Simon thrusts into you.

"Yeah feel that? You ready for my fat cock? See what you do to me lass?" Johnny says, rutting against your cheek and Simon delivers a few smacks to your ass and grunts each time you squeeze around him.

Johnny unbuttons his tac pants and pulls them down just enough to see his bulge through his boxers and he pulls your cheek against it by your hair as he continues to rut against you.

"Fuck lass, could cum just from that cute little face rubbin' against my cock like that." Johnny pants out, still holding your hair and you let out a muffled whine making both men laugh.

"Fuck listen to that little snatch take that cock. Such a greedy pussy." Simon says as you hear the lewd, wet plapping noises coming from your pussy every time Simon thrusts, his balls slapping your clit and his thighs hitting into the backs of yours.

"Fuck bunny you're drippin' all over me." Simon says exasperated.

Your eyes have been unfocused this whole time from the pleasure and Johnny takes your panties out of you mouth and throws it back to Simon, where he pockets it in his tac pants. Johnny then takes his cock out, and gives it a few strokes before tapping it against your lips.

"C'mon dollie, open up. Time to fill that pretty little mouth with somethin' better." He says with a smirk and you oblige.

You take Johnny in your mouth and your eyes roll back at his warmth and size, his weight against your tongue so much better than you could've ever imagined.

You moan around him and lazily suck him off, drifting away from Simon fucking you so good and Johnny's cock in your mouth.

"Ah-ah." Johnny lightly smacks your cheek a few times to get your attention back.

"Eyes on me. Wanna see you suck me off." He says and you moan, liking being slapped by him.

"Fuck Johnny do that to her again. Made her clench so fucking hard." Simon whimpers from behind you gripping onto your hips and leaning over you a bit.

"Yeah? You like getting slapped around?" Johnny asks as begins to thrust into your mouth making you gag, making both men moan from the sensation it gave them.

Johnny then starts to thrust into your mouth as ruthlessly as Simon is, abusing your soaking swollen cunt and your drooling mouth.

Johnny slaps your face again and you moan around him, clenching around Simon again as your eyes roll back.

"What a perfect little fuck toy. Letting me slap her around however I want. So fucking good." Johnny moans out.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum lovey. Let me fill this sweet little pussy up. Need to fill up this cute little cunt." Simon pants in your ear, now leaning his chest on your back, one hand holding him up and the other rubbing your clit.

Johnny face fucks you harder, one hand in your hair and the other squeezing your cheeks together as he fucks your face, using you as a fleshlight.

You cross your eyes and roll them back from the pleasure, letting out muffled "mm hms" encouraging the men to keep fucking you and also letting them know how close you are.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill this pretty little mouth of yours. You want that? Both of us to fill you up hm? Creampie you from both ends? C'mon do it. Cum for us and then you'll get it dollie." Johnny says and you do.

For the second time that night your pussy contracts harder than before making Simon whimper and it almost hurts how tight you're throbbing around him. You moan around Johnny's cock as he continues to face fuck you and Simon's hips start to stutter. You feel so euphoric you can barely hold yourself up as your whole body convulses with one of the best orgasms you've ever had.

"Fuck that's it. Milk me with that fucking cunt. I- mmph." Simon says before he's nuzzling his face in the side of your neck, death grip on your hips as he cums inside of you, his cheeks flushing pink from the release and pleasure.

It doesn't take too long for Johnny to cum in your mouth either, and he does so with a grunt and a moan as he spills into your mouth and over his hand, his cum leaking out of your mouth from your cheeks he has squeezed together making a mess over his fingers and your chin.

You all take a seconds to come back from your highs, and situate yourselves in a more comfortable position in the back seat.

"Fuck. That was.." Johnny says.

"Not long enough." Simon finishes his sentences with a smirk.

"You ok love?" Simon asks and you nod, still wiping your mouth.

"Yeah. I'm good." You smile all fucked out making them laugh at the state they've put you in.

They help you fix your shirt that isn't much of a shirt anymore and put your pants back on.

Just as you all get your clothes back on and situated, you see headlights coming towards you and realize it's Price and Laswell just in time.

And how you three are going to explain your wet panties sticking out of Simon's pocket, is a problem for later when you get back to base.

-

CREDIT TO @captainswhore FOR THIS DELICIOUS IDEA OF JOHNNY GOING FERAL OVER YOU IN A WET WHITE T-SHIRT RAHHHHH

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.

He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.

The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.

Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.

But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.

He wanted them to have something normal.

So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.

Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.

So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.

But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.

He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.

And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.

His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.

He couldn’t sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.

His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.

And nothing would be there.

Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.

He sat up in his bed and sighed.

Maybe he could-

Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.

The light was off.

Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.

“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”

Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.

“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.

“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”

Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.

“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”

“What the fuck.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”

Steve held his bat tighter.

“Eddie? How?”

Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.

“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I’m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”

“Close enough for what?”

“To love you.”

Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.

It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”

Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.

He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.

“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”

“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”

“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”

“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”

Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”

Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.

“Robin?”

“Sorry, just taking this in.”

“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“

“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-

“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“

“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”

Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”

“Do not tell them. Not yet.”

Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.

“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”

Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.

“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.

“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”

“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You wanna join me?” He asked.

“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.

A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.

“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.

“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”

Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.

They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.

He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.

Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.

The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.

When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, baby.”

“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.

“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.

“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.

“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.

“Not today. Scare them or something.”

“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.

“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”

The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.

Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.

“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.

“Few hours maybe.”

“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.

“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”

Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.

“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”

“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”

[janiehellion]

Under The Radar

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After the fall of Hershel's farm and Rick's revelation about the Wildfire virus, the group finds temporary refuge near Elders Mill Road. All the while you share a secret relationship with Daryl that often threatens to get you both caught. But when the stress of survival becomes unbearable, how far would you really go with your teasing to find some much-needed relief?

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E13—ʙᴇꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʏɪɴɢ ꜰɪʀᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / TEASING / FINGERING / SEMI-PUBLIC / ORGASM CONTROL / ORGASM DENIAL / PRAISE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.232

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Written for @itwasntaphasema because she's the very first person who requested to be on my Tag-List!

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You were sitting around the fire near the waterfall of the Elders Mill Road, the current makeshift campsite after Hershel's farm was overrun and got destroyed by a walker herd, with the group eating whatever rations you all could find and trying to cling to some normalcy after Rick had revealed that you're all infected. Only Daryl sat apart from the rest of the group, like he did most of the time. He had claimed a spot on the edge of the fire, leaning back against one of the stone walls, his crossbow beside him as always.

You sat near him, your body leaning towards the fire, but your eyes kept drifting to him every now and then. You and Daryl had a secret that the rest of the group didn't know about—a relationship, or rather, so far you were just sleeping with each other, since neither of you had fully acknowledged that it was anything more than just sex.

As the group talked, your mind was only half on the conversations happening around you. You were more focused on Daryl.

Glenn, meanwhile, was talking about the latest supply run, since you were currently stranded and needed supplies, before finding a place that'd finally keep you safe. "We had to fight our way through a whole bunch of walkers," he said, gesticulating wildly around. "I thought that was finally it—the actual end—but we made it out! To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me if those walkers were from the horde, you know?"

Lori nodded. "My god, we're glad that you got back safely."

She was sitting next to Rick, holding Carl close, who was by now already sleeping in her arms. "Just another day in this nightmare. I hope we won't stay here for much longer. The baby—"

You took the opportunity of everyone else talking, moving quickly closer to Daryl as the conversations around you continued. "Hey, Daryl," you whispered. "I’m feeling a little bored right now, you know?"

Daryl stiffened slightly but didn’t turn to look at you. "Yeah? And why’s that my problem now?"

You bit your lower lip, trying to hide a smirk. "I’m not sure. Maybe I just need a little distraction. I really don't know. I mean, with all that stress lately. We barely made it out alive, ain't that right?"

You reached out, letting your fingers slide along his leg. Daryl’s muscles tensed under your touch, and he moved away a bit, his eyes narrowing. "What’re ya doin’, woman?"

Your hand reached out again and traveled even further up his thigh, just close enough to make him feel uncomfortable but not enough to really provoke him. "Just checking out if you’re as bored as I am."

Daryl moved again, his eyes looking toward the rest of the group to make sure no one was paying attention. "Ya should know better than to be messin’ ‘round like this. ’Specially after all the shit that's happened."

You let your fingers on his leg for a while longer before pulling back. "I know. But it’s always kinda hard when you’re so close."

As the conversations around the fire continued, you leaned closer, but he remained stoic, his eyes locked on the fire.

Meanwhile, Glenn looked over to the both of you. "Hey! Are you guys alright over there?"

"Yeah," Daryl grunted, not really listening to the question. "‘S fine."

You couldn’t help but smirk at his more than obvious discomfort and moved even closer, your shoulder pressing against his strong arm. "Come on, Daryl. A little bit of fun never hurt anyone. It would do us both good, don't you think? A little stress relief."

"Shut it. Ain’t the time or place," he answered, pushing you away slightly.

"Are you sure about that? Because it seems like the perfect time and place to me," you pouted back at him.

Daryl snorted and finally turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting yours in a moment where he was sure no one else was looking at neither him nor you. "Yer really fuckin’ pushin’ it right now."

The rest of the group continued to talk, seemingly oblivious. T-Dog, who was chatting with Hershel meanwhile, glanced your way every now and then in hopes that you would join the conversation, but he didn’t seem to notice anything.

You took the chance again when everyone was looking away and let your fingers brush along Daryl's neck this time, gently letting your fingertips slide up towards his earlobe. "Come on! What’s the matter, Daryl? Afraid of a little attention after all the stress?"

"I ain’t afraid of nothin', woman," he answered, gritting his teeth. "Hell, just stop and be normal for once."

You giggled quietly, your lips now brushing against his neck. "Normal? You mean normal, like how we’re pretending there’s nothing between us and how we're simply normal friends? Oh, wait, the rest of the group doesn't even know that we're friends, or… the real reason behind this so-called friendship. What a shame," you teased him further.

Daryl looked around the campfire, making sure everyone was still engaged in their conversations. "Ain't nothin' and ain't the damn point either. Now, shut it."

You leaned in closer to his face, your lips almost touching his. "Or what? You’ll get mad?"

Daryl’s focus crumbled a bit, his breath coming out faster. "Yeah, or I’ll do somethin’ you’ll regret."

You smirked, your hand sliding down to rest on his thigh again, your fingers brushing dangerously close to his growing bulge. "Well, that’s not really a threat, you know… Threatening me with a good time like that. So scary…"

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he grabbed your wrist, his grip strong but not painful. "‘M serious. Knock it off."

You pulled back slightly, putting your hands up innocently. "Okay, okay. I’ll behave. For now…"

Daryl’s expression remained annoyed, his eyes looking back to the fire as if trying to distract himself.

But the uncomfortable tension between you and him only grew as the time went by. Every little touch of your hand against his, your playful eye contact—simply everything increased the tension between you.

T-Dog, who had been looking around while talking to Hershel, finally spoke up as well. "Everything alright?"

Daryl shot him a glare, clearly frustrated. "Just fine! Said it already."

"Oh, we’re just having a little discussion. Don't worry," you smiled sweetly before leaning closer again. "You know, I can’t help but wonder if you’re really as tough as you pretend to be."

"What the hell are ya playin’ at?" Daryl asked and shot you a quick glance.

You tilted your head, your lips brushing against his jaw. "Just wanting to see how much a certain tough guy can actually handle."

He shivered uncomfortably, his eyes moving around to make sure the rest of the group was still talking with each other. Carol had fallen asleep next to Beth, and Glenn and Maggie were deep in discussion about their next supply run.

You took your chance, and your hand slid up Daryl’s thigh once more, this time brushing against the growing bulge in his pants on purpose. "I can see that you want this just as much," you whispered.

Daryl’s breath hitched, and he gulped. "Ya need to stop this shit."

You moved closer, your lips kissing his ear. "Or what? You’ll do something about it?"

"Yeah, or I’ll make ya regret it," he answered, moving his knees a bit more to his chest.

Your fingers still moved teasingly over the bulge in his pants before pulling back. "Come on, Daryl. Don’t be so boring."

Daryl’s patience was slowly breaking, and he growled at you. "Yer pushin’ it. This ain’t the time or place for ya damn games. Told ya that already. Can't ya just listen?"

You smirked at him, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his neck again. "But that’s what makes it exciting, doesn’t it? Come on, just a quick stress relief."

His control finally snapped, and he grabbed your wrist roughly, his voice low and angry. "Goddammit, stop this bullshit, woman!"

You tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. "Why? Are you afraid of what’ll happen if you let go and show me what you can do, right here and right now?"

His eyes darkened, and he pulled you closer, his voice rough and harsh. "Ya wanna play dirty? Fine. But don’t think I won’t make ya pay for it."

Meanwhile, Rick glanced over too, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the whispering between you and Daryl. "Everything alright over there?"

Daryl smirked annoyed, his grip still tight around your wrist. "Goddamnit, can ya'll stop askin'? 'S all fine!"

Rick’s eyes remained for a moment longer on the both of you before he turned back to keep a watchful eye on the surroundings. As the night wore on, more of the group began to drift off to sleep. Maggie fell asleep by now as well, snoring quietly, just like most of them, while cuddling up to Glenn. The remaining watchmen, including him and Rick, were still alert, their eyes scanning the woods and the street beyond the light of the campfire.

Unable to hold back, you took advantage of the situation once more, teasing Daryl with your touch. "Come on, Daryl. I know you want this."

His eyes narrowed. "Yer really fuckin’ pushin’ it." He shoved you back slightly, his voice rising a little in frustration. "The hell is wrong with ya? Can’t ya see that yer makin’ a goddamn scene?"

You looked around, realizing that the remaining people on watch were still close enough to notice most of what was happening around the camp. You lowered your voice, trying to ease the situation for him. "I’m just trying to have a little fun. You’re the one making it difficult, not me."

Daryl’s expression was clearly angry by now, but there was also something else—something that almost looked like desperation. He reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders, his grip tight. "Ya think this is a game? Yer just makin’ shit worse for both of us, woman."

"I’m not trying to make things worse. I just want you," you answered him quietly, looking into his eyes.

"Yer really testin’ my damn patience." Without waiting for a response, Daryl pulled you roughly towards the edge of the light that came from the campfire, away from the eyes of the group.

"Hey! Where are we going? What are you doing? It's not safe to go away from the fire just like that! Daryl?" You asked, but Daryl didn’t answer immediately.

He dragged you behind one of the other remaining stone walls, away from the light of the fire but still within earshot of the camp. His grip on your arm was almost painful by now, and he shoved you against the side of the wall before he leaned in. "Ya wanna play dirty? Fine. Let’s see how ya can handle it."

You gasped as Daryl’s strong hands grabbed your face and as his lips crashed down on yours with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you roughly against him, his body pressing against yours with force, and you could feel his hard cock pressing against you through his pants.

His fingers moved lower, finding their way to your inner thighs and guiding you to spread your legs just enough for him to get what he wanted. The sudden contact with your soaked panties made you flinch and moan against his mouth, your hips bucking into his touch and grinding against his hand, making you open your pants as fast as possible.

"Yer always so fuckin’ needy," he growled against your lips. "Can’t even keep yer hands off me for one damn second. Can’t resist the way I make ya feel."

"Oh, fuck!" You moaned again into the kiss, your hips instinctively arching towards his touch again as his fingers pressed against your clit through the fabric. "Daryl, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He pulled back slightly, his lips just inches from yours as his mouth curled into a smirk. "Please what?" He demanded. "Ya want me to fuck ya right here, right now? To give ya what yer beggin’ for?"

The way he spoke, the way he teased and controlled you, made you whimper in desperation.

He leaned in closer. "Or do ya need me to make ya beg a little more? To make ya show me just how much ya need me?"

Daryl’s expression hardened as he felt how you squirmed against him. He quickly reached out for your panties, pushing them aside, and without any hesitation, his fingers slid inside you, moving with an aggression that took your breath away.

You gasped, biting down on your lower lip to stifle a loud moan as his fingers worked inside of you ever so roughly. "Keep it quiet," he ordered harshly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying an unmistakable authority. "Don’t wanna wake up the whole damn group."

You nodded, struggling to keep quiet as your body responded to his every touch. His fingers moved inside you, each thrust deeper than the last. His thumb found your clit, rubbing against it in a way that made you see stars, and his free hand gripped your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh to hold you steady.

"Daryl," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please…"

Please… Please… Please, what?" He smirked, slowing his movements to drive you wild. "Ya want me to stop? Make ya wait?"

"No," you gasped in desperation. "Don’t stop! God, don’t stop, please!"

"That’s what I thought." He increased the pressure on your clit, his thumb moving in slow circles that made you tremble, while his fingers curled themselves inside your pussy.

Your hands reached for his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried your best not to fall as he made you a trembling, desperate mess.

"Yer not cummin’ yet. Not until I say so," he whispered as he felt how close you were, and you nodded frantically.

Daryl continued to tease you, driving you to the edge again and again, only to pull back at the last moment. "Good girl," he murmured. "Ya don’t get to cum until I let ya."

You nodded again, even though your body was shaking with the effort to hold back and obey his every command.

"Fuck, Daryl," you pleaded in a whisper. "Please, please, just."

He smirked, holding you close still. "Not yet," he growled, his fingers not slowing down.

Your hips bucked against his hand, but he continued with his teasing. "Ya really like that, don’t ya? Ya’ve been teasin’ me, and now look at ya. So fuckin’ desperate for me."

You nodded, unable to form words, your hands gripping and scratching his shoulders. It was becoming more and more difficult to control your moans, each thrust of his fingers pushing you closer to the edge.

"Hell. Yer such a needy little slut," he growled, teasing you further. "Can’t ever get enough, can ya?"

You couldn’t answer him anymore. Your body was trembling, your breathing ragged as you fought to hold back your cries. His mouth was now trailing down your neck, his teeth biting your flesh and sucking on it until you were panting with need.

"Look at ya," he murmured against your skin as he left his marks. "So desperate. So fuckin' wet. So ready to cum for me."

His free hand slid up your body, grabbing your breast and squeezing it roughly, his thumb flicking over your hardened nipple. "Daryl, please," you begged again, your voice a broken whisper. "I'm already so close! Fuck! I need to cum. Please!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned in close, his lips kissing and biting your cheek as he whispered, "Cum for me, darlin'. Now…"

The command was your undoing. You obeyed, and your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, but Daryl’s fingers continued to move inside you as you clenched around him, prolonging your orgasm until you were a trembling, breathless mess in his arm.

He held you close, and when you finally came down, your body still shivering, he pulled you into a rough kiss. "Such a good girl," he mumbled against your lips. "Ya did so good for me; keepin' quiet like that."

You nodded weakly, your mind still spinning from your orgasm as Daryl withdrew his fingers from you.

"Ya better be glad I ain’t lettin’ this shit go any further. 'Cause I wouldn't hold back anymore, ya know," he growled, and you nodded, your face flushed red and your body still trembling.

"I understand, I do. I just… needed you after what has happened at the farm," you answered him, adjusting your clothes. 

"Ya got what ya wanted," he said. "Now keep yer damn hands to yerself before I lose my shit completely and fuck ya in front of everyone and take ya how I wanna take ya."

The warning was clear, but you could still see the struggle in his eyes to not take you right there in front of everyone else.

"Just remember," he continued, his voice sounding softer now. "Ain’t one for teasin’. Next time ya need me, ya better come to me straight; no damn games."

"I will. I promise," you nodded quickly, trying to steady yourself. "Let’s get back before someone notices…"

He nodded and walked in front of you as you followed him back towards the campfire, seeing the remaining members of the group settling down for the night. Daryl kept looking around as you approached, his eyes scanning the area.

As you neared the campfire, Rick suddenly appeared, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where the hell have you two been?"

You and Daryl exchanged a quick glance, and you stepped forward, trying to sound casual. "I, well… I needed to use the bathroom. Daryl was just keeping an eye out."

Rick raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between you and Daryl. "Really? Didn’t think we had a bathroom around here."

"She just needed to take a piss, so what?" Daryl jumped in. "Figured it was better to keep an eye on her than let her wander off alone."

Rick’s expression was still skeptical, but he seemed to accept the explanation for now. "Alright. Just don’t make a habit of it. Especially not now. Not until we’ve found a safe place to stay."

With a nod, you and Daryl made your way back to your spots by the fire. The both of you sat down carefully, with you trying to ignore wetness that was still present between your legs. You watched as Daryl’s eyes moved to his own fingers, still coated with a bit of your juices. Without breaking eye contact with you, he slowly brought his hand up to his mouth, and his tongue slid out, moving slowly over his fingers as he licked them off once more. It was both humiliating and intensely erotic, making you shiver involuntarily.

Daryl leaned forward, his eyes still fixed on yours. "Remember," he said quietly, "this doesn’t mean ya get to act like a damn tease every fuckin’ time."

You nodded and grinned back at him. "Got it," you answered him, "but maybe, just maybe I should tease you more often every now and then."

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[dhampling]

one fem!reader, 2k

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

-

astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that's it. that's the plot.

word count: 2,028

an: fluff, fluff n more fluff. no smut this time. soon. promise. parts ONE and TWO linked respectively but can be read alone.

-

“She’s asleep, Astarion!” 

You are wide eyed, furious; speaking in a whispered shout at your husband.

His pale hands flit across the ties of your shirt, frisking every which way they turn. You slap them off like flies on fruit.

“Even more reason to take advantage of the situation, if you ask me.” He murmurs hungrily in your ear, hands now circling down to your waist to tug on your waistband.

“It’s a fine job I didn’t ask you then!” Gritted teeth. Eyes aflame. Cornered against the dresser.

The crib beside your bed holds your infant daughter - skittish and fresh to a world wholly unknown in every sense of the word. She rests rarely and wails often for company in these early months of being alive with you both. Pallid and red-eyed yet beautiful beyond comparison and entirely yours. 

Seeing you together brings him joy unparalleled. 

He has, genuinely; never been prouder of anything of his doing - saving the Sword Coast is a drop in the ocean that is completely and utterly awash with love for your youngling. The mistaken mess of his own bastard elven vampiric genetics now born unto another. This time it would be right. The hunger, the rot; the abuse and neglect, they were hundreds of miles away.

He would make it right. 

But it was already so. She was here, and you all cried together in that dark, sweaty birth chamber. His great guttural sob at her birth, wracked with emotion he never knew he could possibly be permitted to feel on this immortal coil. Your genuinely feral howls of pain turned weeping with pure joy.

Two full days of agony unlike any you’ve ever endured and she had arrived, breathing; wailing; skin of a changeling in birthing viscera and lungs keen to rival any bellow of the Gods.

Astarion weakly clinging to you both; tears salting your lips and wetting her tiny head for hours on end. 

The great weight of another being on your shoulders. His sincere - yet cliche - fervently whispered oath to her just moments after being placed in his arms.

She is home. She is loved beyond any unit of measure. She will want for nothing, and she will never know anguish like that of her parents and their complex lives. No matter who she is or what she becomes, she has two people who are in her corner. She will be fierce if she so desires. Cunning. Witty. Roguish. Barbaric. Horrid. 

It didn’t matter. It never would. 

She was yours, and his; and she would always have a choice.

He had spoken with her for hours, the nurse whispered to inform you once you had awoken from the deepest slumber of your life. Even then when you looked he was hanging over her small form in her cot, running his lithe fingers over her tiny hands and feet in a repetitive soothing pattern. 

When you queried the topic of conversation he simply looked at you with a grin so lovesick it would flip your stomach completely. Butterflies.

-

“We deserve a bit of fun though, darling. Mummy and Daddy’s evening off? No?” 

Astarion pouts, wrapping his arms around you - still pinned against the dresser - and inhaling your scent deeply. 

You return the gesture and cough reactively.

“You stink of Noblestalk. I know your tricks.”

You playfully shove him away and tiptoe from your room to the landing, the pale elf hot on your heels.

“I have never stunk in my life, thank you.” He sulks. 

You pointedly stop to look at him, before picking up a basket of waiting laundry and descending the stairs. He follows.

“I’m trying to fuck you, dear. Don’t make it weird.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. 

You hum. 

“Corpses tend to smell awful.” 

“Warning.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.”

A beat of silence.

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?” 

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

“You’re getting rusty.”

He captures you in a kiss as you reach the bottom of the stairs, slow and patient. Holding your free arm to keep you close. 

“Look at me. I’m the epitome of the fatherly jester!’

Waggles his free hand.

‘I have been blessed with brains and humour anew by the birth of our daughter, clearly.’

He grimaces.

‘Not necessarily superior versions of either, but I - am - changed.” 

From the moment of her conception you’d felt it. An old wives’ tale. The night you’d agreed to mother a brood alongside him, you knew she was there. That she was her. That she was brewing as something brilliant deep inside you and nothing would be as it was ever again. 

He’d called it ridiculous, gestured wildly and rolled his eyes to the deepest hells, but a hazardous hope never left them until you’d far missed your bleed and it was confirmed to be true.

From that moment onwards, something shifted even further in Astarion. 

The domestic tether to your townhouse in the city - no longer just a convenience to remain a steady base for you both, but a fundamental part of his scene setting, to plant roots and grow together. Two centuries of rot and abuse, and his reward was finally nearing completion.

His nesting phase began far earlier than yours and with greater intensity than you could’ve matched even without the issue of your later-heaving belly. Entire pinboards tacked with decadent fabric swatches for every occasion - be it swaddling or nursery curtains. Tailor’s tape around his neck each morning and notebook in hand to note your measurements and take inventory of your wardrobe; ensuring you never looked awry or felt anything less than wholly comfortable. 

Because gods forbid ill-fitted clothing stand in the way of you and your brutal vomiting spells, obviously. A pointed click of his tongue as he fixes your sleeve.

In the middle months of your gestation, the typically discerning clientele who visited you and Astarion in your tailor’s store at the dead of night were the first to become privy to the news. Rounder by the week, flushed; brimming with a deep fatigue and yet somehow absolutely aglow.

Children to be fitted for yet another presentation evening placed sleepy hands on your belly with a saccharine softness. Their parents jostle you - sometimes in congratulations, sometimes to whisper in sheer curiosity. Dhampir are a notoriously rare breed, and you’re certain there were rumours of a third party involvement in the process.

‘No, no. We just tried really, really hard.’ You’d smile, as if in a blissful stupor from just the recollection. He’d turn to you with his ridiculously brilliant hearing; needle between teeth, brow raised; lips upturned in a slight quirk. Devilishly handsome, never anything less.

-

You drop the laundry basket in the kitchen corner. A stuffed bear falls from it. Clive.

A pause.

“You never asked what I did with that shirt, you know.”

It takes you a moment to recall which shirt he’s referring to. He sits at the table and watches you lazily.

“Which? The one for Mr. Chugley? I didn’t think it needed much by way of adjustment, at least?”

A stale piece of burnt toast sits on the counter untouched. You bite and chew and bite and chew like a woman who has never once tasted a morsel so divine; so untainted by the evils of hot butter and a filling bronze crunch.

“Oh - Bunt? Gods, no.’

He sips his stone-cold tea. A fresh film wobbles on top.

‘Bunt Chugley.”

A snort of laughter sends it straight back through his nose and out onto the table. You begin to choke on your toast.

“Bunt Chugley.” You giggle, crumbs spilling from your mouth.

Astarion stands to wipe himself down, creasing over with an escalating laughter.

“Bunt Chugley.”

He waggles his hands, eyes heavy lidded with lack of rest. 

He looks purely maniacal.

“That’s- that’s what we should-’

You stop for breath, cackling now; hands over knees for a brief moment.

‘We should call the next one Bunt Chugley.”

He launches into a wheezing fit.

“How- How would that even work, darling? Like Bunt Chugley Ancunín, or- or-”

“No! No, no. Just that. Bunt Chugley.”

You hold both hands to your eye as if framing a canvas, looking through the gap at the ludicrous proposition in front of you. 

He takes a moment to still. Smiles at you dopily.

Crosses the floor and brings both hands down to your waist with a gentle grasp.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He grins and holds his forehead against yours.

You look at him, dazed.

“Hmm?’

He simply looks up. 

A profoundly gut-wrenching wail becomes apparent to you from above. Your face falls.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Astarion.”

-

He’s up the stairs before you can comment further, swiftly darting back into your chambers and grinning with an unbridled joy - though, you note, with lack of rest that grin is beginning to look more insane by the hour.

“Sweetheart! My darling girl. Shush now. You’re sounding something absolutely wicked.”

You watch on from the doorway, arms folded; stale toast in hand and jaws meeting in a firm chew.

He’s far too good with her. 

It somewhat surprised you at first just how innately fatherhood came to him, but as he picks her up and cradles her intently it’s as if there are fractures of his own childhood coming back. How he was loved, how he was held. 

A piece of him, now alive and breathing again after all these years of death.  

He coos at her, bouncing her small frame gently in his arms and hushing her with each wail. It takes very little for soft mewls to take their place as she reaches aimlessly in his direction. 

He leans towards her grasping fingers and allows her to take one of his ringlets from the front of his head as he kisses her tummy. She’s enthralled by him; recognises him. She wants to know more of him. 

As he lifts his head her grasp remains firm.

“We have some work to do on your sleight of hand, I think. Not to worry.” 

Ever so gently, he unpicks her fascinated fingers and kisses them all in tow. Her face looks almost ready to crumple before he reaches for one final kiss on the very top of her head.

“There, now. All better. Back to sleep?’

A gurgle. A puzzled blink.

‘Absolutely. Mummy does look particularly radiant today, doesn’t she? I’ll be sure to send your regards.”

He catches the smile on your face. Winks your way.

“You’re getting the baby to flirt on your behalf now?” You tease.

“That’s the lady of the house to you. She was simply passing on her praises.” He whispers as he places her back into her crib and steps back fondly. Sidles over to you as you finish the last bite of toast and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“Stop playing coy. I know you feel the same way I do.’

He whispers down at you.

‘You want another one, don’t you?’

A kiss on the very top of your head.

“You’re projecting.” You smile.

You can’t deny him for long, he knows this. You don’t particularly want to. 

Since becoming a mother you’ve taken to parenthood almost as naturally as he has; and when the topic has come up since you’ve struggled to say no and mean it.

“Think, though. The sooner we try again, the sooner we can begin building our little mercenary force.” He looks at you with the face of a man who thinks he’s just had a really good idea.

“Oh! Yes! You’ve sold me!’

You pull him into a long kiss, the kind that still makes you swoon after all this time together. He tastes like cold tea and smells so clinical you can’t help but laugh heartily as you pull away.

‘That Noblestalk is getting to me. Have a bath and try again with a little less?”

He scowls before narrowing his eyes in thought.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It just might, my darling dearest.” 

You wink this time.

The bath starts running before you’ve fully made it back down the stairs.

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C6)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (8.8K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

06: O-live-You And Other Things That Could've Been Said

The moment we stepped outside, the heat hit us like a solid wall. The sun was already high in the sky, radiating a fierce, unrelenting intensity that made the air shimmer like a mirage. It felt like stepping into an oven, the kind where the heat clings to your skin and settles in your bones, refusing to let go. The cobblestones beneath our feet were warm to the touch, and the faint breeze that occasionally swept by offered little relief, more like a faint exhale of hot air than anything truly cooling.

Mae immediately fanned herself with her hand, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun. “Oh my god, it’s not even ten yet and I’m already melting. I swear, this island is trying to roast us alive.”

Edie tugged at the collar of her tank top, flapping it to get some air. “I don’t know how people live like this. I can feel my makeup sliding off my face. At this rate, I’m going to look like a Picasso painting by noon.”

Hattie pulled her hair into a messy bun, beads of sweat already forming at her temples. “We’re officially in a sauna. A beautiful, picturesque sauna that’s actively trying to kill us with heatstroke.”

Oscar wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his shirt clinging to his back. “You guys are such drama queens,” he said, though his own forehead was glistening with sweat. “It’s not that bad. Just… extremely, painfully hot.”

Mae shot him an incredulous look, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not that bad? I can practically see the soles of my shoes melting into the pavement. If I pass out, just drag me to the nearest air-conditioned place and leave me there.”

Oscar chuckled, glancing over at me. “You holding up okay, or should we start taking bets on who drops first?”

I fanned myself with my hand, feeling the heat radiate off the ground in waves. “I’m fine, but I might have to invest in one of those little handheld fans soon. Or, you know, a personal ice bath.”

Oscar shot me a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling despite the beads of sweat gathering at his temples. “An ice bath, huh? That’s my kind of recovery. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to cooling down after a race. Maybe I could show you how it’s done—F1 style.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was impossible to hide. “Oh, so what, we’re going to do some pit stops for hydration and tire changes along the way too?”

Oscar laughed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Only if you’re up for it. I can be your personal pit crew. We’ll keep it professional, of course… until we get to the ice bath part.”

Mae groaned loudly, rolling her eyes as she overheard. “Please, Oscar. Save the flirting for after I’ve downed a liter of water and found some shade. We’re all dying here, and you’re still trying to turn this into a date.”

Oscar just shrugged, unbothered, and shot me a wink. “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the full experience. And hey, if it involves ice baths and a little friendly competition, I’m all in.”

I nudged him playfully, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the weather. “Well, if you can handle the heat on the track, I’m sure you can handle a little morning market stroll. But I’m holding you to that ice bath promise—I might just need it after this.”

Oscar smirked, leaning in closer. “You got it. I’ll even make sure it’s got all the F1 essentials—like speed, precision, and just enough flirtation to keep things interesting.”

His teasing sent a shiver down my spine despite the scorching heat, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the sun beating down on us. But then another wave of hot air hit, reminding us all just how relentless the day was going to be.

Hattie, overhearing our exchange, fanned herself dramatically and shook her head. “Alright, you two, keep it cool… literally. We’re about five minutes away from turning into human puddles, and I’m not prepared to deal with that kind of meltdown.”

We all laughed, the tension easing as we continued down the path, our steps a little lighter despite the oppressive heat. And as Oscar’s playful banter echoed in my ears, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a little F1-style cool-down wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Edie let out a groan, shielding her eyes with her hand. “At this point, I’d settle for a bucket of ice water to the face. I don’t care about looking cute; I just want to survive.”

As we trudged along, the heat wrapped around us like a heavy blanket, every breath feeling thick and labored. The chatter continued, but now it was peppered with complaints and exaggerated groans, each of us trying to find some humor in the absurdity of the oppressive sun. The market couldn’t come soon enough, and as we walked, we silently vowed to find the nearest shade—or, even better, a cold drink—before any of us truly combusted under the relentless summer blaze.

Oscar fell into step beside me, close enough that our arms brushed as we walked. “Bet you five euros Mae buys something completely useless within the first ten minutes.”

I grinned, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. “I’ll take that bet. But I think it’s going to be Edie who cracks first. She’s got that look in her eye—like she’s on a mission to buy something she doesn’t need.”

Oscar laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re on. This might be the easiest money I’ve ever made.”

We continued down the winding path, the sun already blazing above us and making every surface shimmer with heat. The air was so thick and warm, it felt like walking through a giant hairdryer, and every step seemed to bring a fresh wave of stickiness that clung to our skin. The occasional shade from an overhanging tree felt like a blessed oasis, but those moments were fleeting, and soon we were back in the relentless glare.

Mae groaned dramatically, pulling her hair up into a messy bun as she fanned her neck with her hand. “I swear, this is how people end up in documentaries about survival. If I faint, just drag me to the nearest gelato stand.”

Edie, already looking flushed and slightly disheveled, tugged at her tank top. “Forget gelato; I’m about two minutes away from dunking my head in the nearest fountain. I can’t believe people live like this.”

Hattie chimed in, her voice laced with mock despair. “I feel like I’m being slow-cooked. If this is a test of endurance, I’m failing spectacularly. Someone tell me why we thought coming out in this heat was a good idea?”

Oscar glanced at me, his smile wicked. “Don’t worry, everyone. I’ve got it all under control. We’ll get to the market, find some shade, and then maybe I’ll set up an ice bath demo right there in the middle of the square. I’m sure it’ll be the highlight of everyone’s day.”

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. “Oh yeah, nothing says local culture like a makeshift ice bath. You’ll have an audience in no time, and I’m pretty sure they’d crown you the king of market day.”

Oscar flashed me a grin, his hand brushing mine as we walked. “As long as you’re there to cheer me on, I’m ready to make it happen. We can call it ‘Beat the Heat: The Oscar Edition.’”

Mae, overhearing us, rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’m not paying to see that, but I’ll definitely take a video. It’s going viral, for sure.”

Oscar shot her a mock glare. “Only if you promise to catch my good side. And for the record, I’m pretty sure this ice bath idea is going to save lives today.”

Edie snorted, already scanning the stalls in the distance as the market came into view. “Oscar, you’re not saving lives. You’re just trying to impress your new audience,” she teased, giving him a playful nudge. “But hey, if it gets us a cold drink faster, I’m all for it.”

The market was a sensory overload in the best possible way—vibrant stalls overflowing with fresh fruits, handmade trinkets, and colorful textiles flapping in the light breeze. The mingling aromas of spices, fresh bread, and grilling meats filled the air, and every few steps, a vendor would call out to us, trying to lure us in with their wares. The place was alive with people—locals haggling with vendors, tourists snapping photos, and children darting between stalls with sticky fingers and delighted grins.

Oscar and I wandered through the aisles, pausing occasionally to admire a particularly colorful display of woven baskets or to sample a piece of sweet, juicy melon that a vendor insisted we try. It was a chaotic, joyful atmosphere, and despite the heat, I found myself genuinely enjoying the experience.

That is, until we reached a stall filled with every kind of olive you could imagine. From glossy black olives marinated in herbs to bright green ones stuffed with garlic, the selection was endless. Oscar, with his usual mischievous glint, picked up a toothpick and speared an olive, holding it out to me.

“Come on, try this one. I promise, it’s the best thing you’ll ever taste,” he said, his voice dripping with the confidence of someone who’d already decided the outcome.

I eyed the olive suspiciously, but the look on his face was so hopeful and endearing that I couldn’t refuse. I took the olive, popped it into my mouth, and almost immediately regretted my decision. The taste hit me like a freight train—intensely salty, bitter, and pungent, with a weirdly spicy kick that felt like it was attacking my taste buds from all sides.

I gagged, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was no use. My eyes watered, and I felt the immediate, burning need to spit it out. But before I could, I accidentally inhaled, choking on the olive’s briny juice in the most unattractive way possible. I doubled over, coughing and sputtering, as the taste continued to assault my senses.

Oscar, realizing what had happened, tried to help by patting me on the back, but his well-meaning thumps only made things worse. I stumbled forward, knocking into a rack of precariously balanced jars filled with pickled vegetables. The entire display wobbled ominously before tipping over with a loud crash, sending jars shattering to the ground and splattering their contents all over my sandals.

“Bloody fuck!” Oscar yelped, jumping back as brine and pickled peppers splashed up around us. He reached out, grabbing my arm to steady me, but we were both already slipping in the mess.

I finally managed to spit out the offending olive, doubling over in laughter as I wiped tears from my eyes. “Oh my god, that was—what the hell was in that olive? I think I just tasted hell!”

Oscar, trying to suppress his own laughter, looked down at the mess we’d made. “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t think it would be that bad! You looked like you were being possessed by some ancient demon.”

“Note to self,” I managed between gasps, “never, ever take an olive recommendation from you again.”

Oscar grinned sheepishly, still holding onto my arm to keep us both from slipping. “Deal. But hey, at least it’s a market memory we won’t forget anytime soon.”

We worked together to gather the scattered jars, our hands brushing occasionally, sending small electric jolts through my already flustered system. The vendor, a grumpy old man with a thick mustache and a fierce scowl, continued muttering under his breath, clearly unimpressed with our attempts to make amends. I offered him a sheepish smile, trying not to slip on the brine-soaked pavement, while Oscar dug into his wallet, pulling out a few euros to cover the damage.

As we finished up, Oscar turned to me with that infuriatingly charming grin of his. “Well, that’s one way to make an impression. I’d say we’re officially banned from the olive section.”

I laughed, wiping my hands on my dress, which was now speckled with flecks of pickling spices. “At this rate, we’re going to get banned from the whole market. I mean, who knew olives could be so dangerous?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Dangerous? I’d say they were just misunderstood. But hey, if you want to blame me for this epic disaster, I’ll take the fall.” He struck a dramatic pose, hand over his heart, like a martyr taking the blame for a noble cause. “I, Oscar from Australia, solemnly swear to never force-feed you another olive as long as we both shall live.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress my grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re apologizing. Otherwise, I’d still be gagging over that monstrosity you made me eat.”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “Lucky? I think you’re just softening up to me, olive incident and all.”

I pushed him lightly, but the warmth in his gaze didn’t falter, and I found myself caught in the easy rhythm of his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head. But you’re definitely going to owe me an ice cream after this.”

Oscar smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Ice cream? Please, we’re in Greece. You mean gelato,” he corrected, his voice dripping with playful mockery. He stepped closer, his tone teasing but his proximity making my heart skip a beat. “And trust me, I know the best place. Only the finest for my olive-battle buddy.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Alright, Mr. Gelato Expert. Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, we were standing at a small gelato stand, the sweet, creamy scent wafting through the air, instantly making me forget the earlier chaos. Oscar handed me a scoop of hazelnut gelato, then grabbed his own, a vibrant pistachio. As he took a triumphant bite, a dollop of green gelato smeared right onto his nose, turning the flirty moment into an adorably ridiculous one.

I stifled a laugh, trying to keep my composure as he continued to talk, completely unaware of the green splotch on his face. “See? This is real dessert. None of that commercialized stuff—”

I burst out laughing, and he paused, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Uh, you’ve got a little… something,” I said, pointing to my own nose as a hint.

He tried to swipe at it but missed, smearing it even more. “This?”

I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from laughing too hard. “Here, let me.” Without thinking, I reached up, my fingers gently brushing his nose as I wiped away the sticky gelato. The touch was brief, but it was enough to make my pulse quicken.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the busy market around us had faded away, leaving just the two of us in a little bubble of shared laughter and unspoken tension. Oscar’s gaze softened, the playful glint giving way to something deeper as he leaned in slightly, our faces close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I think I’m going to have to spill gelato on myself more often if it gets you this close.”

I laughed softly, still feeling the tingling of where his nose had brushed against my fingertips. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, but there was no hiding the smile on my face. “But if that’s your plan, maybe try keeping it on your gelato next time.”

Oscar chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief as he leaned in just a little closer, closing the already narrow gap between us. “Can’t make any promises,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasingly low, flirtatious tone that sent a familiar thrill coursing through me. “Besides, I’m not sure gelato is half as fun without a little mess.”

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading through my chest made it impossible to hide the grin tugging at my lips. “I’m starting to think you do it on purpose,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably as Oscar’s thumb grazed a stray bit of gelato from the corner of my mouth, his touch lingering just a beat longer than necessary.

He shrugged, still impossibly close, his grin broadening. “What can I say? Keeps things interesting.” His voice softened, and for a brief moment, his gaze flickered to my lips before meeting my eyes again, his expression a mix of playfulness and something deeper that made my heart skip. “But I have to admit, I’ve got pretty good taste.”

I felt my cheeks flush under his steady gaze, the space between us charged with an almost tangible electricity. The casualness of his words belied the underlying tension simmering just beneath the surface, each flirty remark and lingering touch a dare to step closer, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“Yeah?” I challenged, tilting my head slightly, unable to resist the pull of the moment. “Well, just so you know, you’re not the only one with good taste.”

Oscar's eyes darkened with a mix of intrigue and something more playful, his smile never wavering as he scooted closer, his thigh brushing against mine on the impossibly narrow bench. The space between us was almost nonexistent now, our legs tangled in a way that felt intimate, unspoken, and thrillingly reckless. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the brush of his arm against mine sending little jolts of electricity through me.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he said, his voice low and edged with that teasing drawl that made my pulse quicken. He leaned in closer, so close that I could feel his breath, warm and sweet, grazing my cheek. “But I think I like hearing you admit it.”

The proximity, the way his eyes held mine without flinching, had my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I tried to play it cool, but the intensity of his gaze, the closeness of his body, made every breath feel charged with possibility.

“You’re really pushing your luck,” I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended, almost breathless. His knee nudged mine, a playful, subtle reminder of how little space was left between us.

Oscar smirked, scooting even closer, his leg pressing against mine with a deliberate pressure that sent my nerves into overdrive. “Maybe,” he whispered, his lips barely an inch away from my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “But something tells me you’re not exactly complaining.”

The words hung between us, laced with a flirty challenge that dared me to push back, to match his game. I tried to muster a witty comeback, but all I could focus on was the feel of his thigh against mine, his shoulder brushing my arm, the intoxicating closeness that made the world around us blur.

“Bold assumption,” I managed to say, but my voice wavered, betraying the flutter of excitement thrumming beneath my calm facade. “What makes you think you’re so irresistible?”

Oscar grinned, his confidence unwavering as he leaned in, closing the gap until his lips were just a breath away from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of his smile. “Call it a hunch,” he murmured, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “Or maybe it’s just that look you give me every time I get this close.”

My breath hitched, and I found myself leaning in without meaning to, drawn to the warmth of his presence, the challenge in his eyes. His teasing was relentless, but it was the way he looked at me—like this was all just foreplay for something much bigger—that left me breathless, my heart racing as if daring me to make the next move.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” I said, my voice a shaky whisper, half accusation, half something else entirely.

Oscar’s grin widened, his thumb brushing my wrist in a touch so light it sent a ripple of warmth through my whole body. “And you love it,” he said simply, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for doubt. And maybe, just maybe, he was right.

My heart pounded in my chest, the air between us thick with unspoken tension, and for a split second, I thought he might kiss me. But just as the moment reached its peak, a loud honk blasted through the air, startling us both.

We jerked apart, whipping our heads around to see a vendor on a tiny motorbike, zigzagging through the crowded market with a basket of fresh bread strapped precariously to the back. He shouted something in Greek that I couldn’t quite catch, but the tone made it clear—get out of the way or risk getting run over by a man determined to deliver his breakfast goods.

Oscar laughed, breaking the spell as he scooted back just enough to avoid a collision. “Well, that’s one way to ruin the mood,” he said, still chuckling as he raked a hand through his hair, his confidence momentarily deflated by the absurdity of the scene.

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the tension between us dissolving into sheer ridiculousness. “Guess the universe decided you needed to cool it,” I teased, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. “Pretty sure you just got cockblocked by a bread guy.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright. I get it. Even the universe thinks I’m too much to handle.” He leaned back against the bench, shaking his head as he watched the motorbike weave away into the crowd. “Who knew my biggest competition would be a guy delivering carbs?”

I snorted, trying to stifle my laughter. “Hey, everyone’s gotta eat. Maybe take it as a sign to slow your roll.”

Before Oscar could respond with another flirty comeback, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, followed by a burst of laughter. Suddenly, Mae leaped onto Oscar’s back, her arms flailing as she yelled, “Revenge is sweet!” Oscar staggered forward, caught completely off guard, and nearly dropped his gelato.

“What the—Mae!” Oscar exclaimed, half-laughing, half-groaning as he tried to regain his balance. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Mae grinned wickedly, clinging to his shoulders like a monkey. “Just evening the score for this morning’s stealth attack, big brother. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people.”

Hattie and Edie appeared behind them, both wearing matching amused smirks. Hattie folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been looking for you two all over. Thought you’d ditched us for some secret gelato rendezvous.”

Edie nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, Mae said you were probably off flirting somewhere. Turns out she was right.”

I could feel my cheeks flush as I glanced at Oscar, who was still trying to pry Mae off his back without spilling his gelato. “Us? Flirting?” I said, feigning innocence. “We were just… enjoying our ice cream. Totally innocent.”

Mae finally hopped off Oscar’s back, adjusting her shirt with a triumphant smile. “Sure, sure. We believe you. But don’t think we didn’t see that little moment just now. If you’re gonna get all cute and flirty, at least invite us next time so we can take notes.”

Oscar rubbed his shoulder, shaking his head at Mae’s antics. “You’re all just jealous of my natural charm. Can’t a guy enjoy gelato in peace?”

Hattie smirked, nudging Edie. “Or maybe we just like keeping you on your toes. After all, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not too distracted by… certain distractions.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. “Don’t worry, girls. I’ve got it all under control. And besides, someone’s gotta keep him from knocking over gelato carts.”

Oscar shot me a look of mock betrayal, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Great, now I’ve got all of you ganging up on me. But hey, if it gets Mae off my back—literally—I’ll take it.”

Mae patted his shoulder, still grinning. “Aw, don’t be such a baby. We’re just here to keep you grounded. And if that means ambushing you from time to time, then so be it.”

Oscar shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You all have too much fun at my expense.”

Hattie, always ready with a quick retort, smirked as she picked up a napkin to wipe some melted gelato off the bench. “Hey, it’s only fair. You spent the entire morning trying to charm the life out of everyone. We’re just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

Edie leaned against the bench, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And let’s be real, Oscar—keeping you grounded is practically a full-time job. It’s like herding a cat with a God complex.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, alright. I get it—I’m officially outnumbered.”

Mae grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, definitely. But you love it. You wouldn’t know what to do without us.”

Oscar glanced at me, his grin widening. “Yeah, well, I think I’ve got some backup now. Someone’s gotta be on my side.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t look at me. I’m just here for the gelato and entertainment. You’re on your own.”

The sisters burst into laughter, and Oscar let out an exaggerated sigh. “See? This is my life now—betrayed by everyone I care about.”

“Hey,” Mae said, elbowing him in the side. “That’s the price you pay for being charming and annoyingly persistent.”

Oscar slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a playful side hug. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s a small price to pay for being this irresistible.”

Edie rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “There he goes again. We can’t take you anywhere.”

I glanced at the bags the sisters were carrying, each one bursting with colorful trinkets, snacks, and what looked like the most random assortment of souvenirs imaginable. “So, what did you guys get? Anything worth bragging about?”

Hattie held up a woven fan, waving it dramatically in front of her face. “Essential survival gear,” she declared. “If I have to hear Mae complain about the heat one more time, this thing’s getting thrown at her.”

Mae shot her a look, then pulled out a tiny carved wooden turtle with a goofy grin etched into its face. “I got this little guy. He’s the new mascot of our misadventures. And don’t you dare say he’s useless, because I’m emotionally attached now.”

Edie, not to be outdone, produced a pair of wildly patterned sunglasses that looked like they’d been pulled straight out of a 1980s music video. “And I got these. They were practically begging to be bought.”

I grinned, exchanging a knowing look with Oscar. “Well, well, looks like I win the bet. Edie cracked first.” I held out my hand toward Oscar, palm up. “That’ll be five euros, please.”

Oscar sighed dramatically, fishing the crumpled bill out of his pocket. “I should’ve known better than to bet against your instincts.” He slapped the money into my hand, feigning disappointment. “Enjoy your winnings.”

Mae’s jaw dropped, her eyes darting between us. “Wait, wait, wait. You guys bet on us?”

Oscar shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s all in good fun. I just had a feeling Edie wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of something ridiculous.”

Edie clutched her sunglasses to her chest in mock outrage. “You bet on us? What are we, a reality show now? Next thing I know, there’ll be a scoreboard tracking all our bad decisions.”

Hattie laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I feel betrayed, but also kinda proud. At least you guys know us well enough to make accurate predictions.”

Mae crossed her arms, a mock pout on her lips. “I would’ve bet on Edie too, though. She can’t go five minutes without buying something weird.”

I smirked, pocketing my euros. “Don’t worry, it’s all out of love. And hey, at least now I’m five euros richer.”

Oscar slung his arm around my shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I’m coming back for that money, just you wait.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the easy camaraderie between us all. “Well, you’re welcome to try, but I think I’ll keep my winning streak going.”

As the playful energy buzzed between us, we decided to split up again—Mae and Edie darting off towards a stall selling handcrafted jewelry, and Hattie wandering towards a display of local ceramics. Oscar nudged me, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward a boutique nestled at the end of the market. “Let’s check out that shop. Looks like your kind of place.”

I followed his gaze to a quaint little boutique tucked into a narrow alley, its entrance framed by delicate vines of bougainvillea spilling over the roof. The shop’s exterior was painted in soft pastels, and a whimsical, hand-painted sign above the door read Marina’s Closet in elegant, looping script. The glass windows were filled with a curated display of dresses, sun hats, and accessories, each item carefully arranged to catch the eye. Through the window, I could see racks of brightly colored clothes, twinkling with the promise of a well-spent afternoon.

As we stepped inside, the cool air was a welcome relief from the heat outside. The shop was small but charming, filled with an eclectic mix of elegant summer dresses, flowy skirts, and delicate blouses in fabrics that ranged from soft linens to airy silks. The walls were painted a soft blush pink, and the space was filled with carefully arranged plants, their green leaves trailing down the walls and adding to the shop’s intimate, garden-like feel. Soft music played overhead—a mix of gentle acoustic and soft pop that set a relaxing, dreamy mood.

Antique mirrors lined the walls, their ornate, gold-gilded frames reflecting the soft light of the hanging lanterns that gave the boutique a warm, cozy glow. Shelves displayed colorful accessories—scarves, statement necklaces, and wide-brimmed hats, each one more elegant than the last. The floor was a mix of polished wood and a plush rug in the center, creating a sense of luxury and comfort all at once.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled as he glanced over the selection, his smile widening as he pulled out a flowing dress in a delicate shade of dusty rose. “This place is pretty cool. It’s got that ‘I know I’m expensive’ vibe,” he joked, running his thumb over the soft fabric. “But hey, nothing wrong with dreaming a little, right?”

I nodded, trailing behind him as he moved down the aisle. My fingers brushed against a rack of silk blouses and embroidered tops, each more intricate than the last. I picked up a dress—a light blue number with delicate floral patterns stitched along the hem—and flipped the tag over, my eyes widening at the price. “Yeah, it’s definitely out of my usual budget. I mean, I love window shopping, but this stuff? This is like, ‘Do I need to sell a kidney?’ territory.”

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he gently took the dress from my hand, holding it up against me. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” he said, his tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. “And besides, it looks amazing. You should try it on.”

I hesitated, looking around at the boutique’s carefully curated atmosphere, every detail screaming exclusivity. “I don’t know, Oscar. This isn’t exactly my kind of place. I’m more of a ‘sale rack at Zara’ kind of girl. And these prices? Let’s just say they’re a bit much.”

But Oscar didn’t seem to care about the price tags or my hesitations. He found another dress—a soft lavender one with a cinched waist and delicate lace detailing at the shoulders—and held it out to me, his grin never faltering. “Just try it on. What’s the harm? It’s not every day you get to play dress-up in a fancy place like this.” he said, his voice casual but sincere. “Try it on. What’s the harm in that?”

I hesitated, glancing at the price tag again. “Oscar, this stuff is like... ridiculously overpriced. I don’t think trying on a dress I can’t afford is gonna make me feel better.”

He grinned, nudging me gently. “Come on, it’s just for fun. And besides, you never know—maybe you’ll fall in love with something, and I’ll just have to figure out how to make it yours.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Fine, but only because you’re annoyingly convincing.” I took the dress from his hands and headed toward the fitting room, the soft fabric cool against my skin.

Inside the fitting room, I slipped into the dress, feeling the way the light material draped elegantly over my figure. It was simple yet stunning, with delicate lace detailing along the neckline and a flowing skirt that brushed just above my ankles. I smoothed my hands over the fabric, feeling unexpectedly confident as I stepped out to show Oscar.

His eyes lit up as he saw me, and he leaned back against one of the mirrored walls, his gaze roaming appreciatively. “Wow,” he said, the word coming out in a breathless sort of way that made my cheeks warm. “You look... amazing.”

I twirled slightly, watching the dress flare out around me. “Yeah? You don’t think it’s too much?”

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Not at all. It’s perfect. But let’s see more—you’re not done yet.”

Encouraged by his reaction, I tried on a few more dresses—a pastel blue sundress with delicate embroidery that hugged my waist and a soft, buttery yellow wrap dress with fluttery sleeves. Each time I stepped out, Oscar’s praise came easy, his eyes bright with genuine admiration that left me feeling both flattered and slightly overwhelmed.

I stood before the mirror, dressed in the last outfit—a bold, deep green dress with a plunging neckline and an effortlessly elegant cut that made me feel like I was stepping into another world. I turned slightly, admiring the way the color brought out the warmth in my skin. “I can’t decide,” I admitted, biting my lip as I looked at the three dresses hanging beside me. “They’re all so beautiful, but...”

Oscar stepped closer, his reflection appearing beside mine in the mirror. “Why choose?” he said lightly, his hand brushing my shoulder as he gazed at the dresses. “You look incredible in all of them.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Oscar, that’s not how this works. These dresses are... well, let’s just say they’re not in my usual shopping cart. I have to pick one, and even that feels like a splurge.”

But Oscar just shrugged, his smile turning teasing. “Or you could let me handle it. Consider it my treat.”

I blinked, turning to face him fully. “No way. Oscar, you can’t just—”

He cut me off with a playful roll of his eyes, already reaching for his wallet. “I can and I will. Besides, you’re the one who’s been keeping me entertained all day. It’s the least I can do.”

I watched, half in shock, half in admiration as he took all three dresses to the counter, handing over his card with a charming smile. The shopkeeper, a kindly older woman with a twinkle in her eye, rang up the total, her knowing smile suggesting she’d seen this kind of gesture before.

“Oscar, you’re ridiculous,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice light but unable to fully hide how touched I was. “But... thank you.”

He handed me the bags with a wink, his fingers lingering against mine for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re welcome. And besides, now I get to see you in all three. Totally worth it.”

I laughed, feeling the weight of the dresses in my hands and the warmth of Oscar’s gesture settle in my chest. It was more than just a shopping trip—it was another shared moment, another flirty, unplanned adventure that made everything feel a little more magical.

“You really are something else, you know that?” I said, shaking my head but smiling all the same.

Oscar grinned, stepping closer as we made our way out of the boutique. “Yeah, but I’m your something else. And I think that’s working out pretty well.”

As we stepped out of the boutique and back into the bustling market, I felt the weight of Oscar’s generosity with every step, the boutique bags brushing against my legs. It was more than just the dresses; it was the way he effortlessly turned a simple shopping trip into something memorable, something that lingered in the air between us like an unspoken promise.

I tried to brush off the fluttery feeling that had settled in my chest, but it was no use. This thing with Oscar—it was different from anything I’d ever known. I’d had my share of flings before, little sparks that fizzled out as quickly as they began. Those past connections had always felt manageable, easy to keep at arm’s length. But with Oscar, nothing felt sensible anymore. The boundaries I’d set for myself, the rules I used to follow, they all seemed to blur in his presence.

Every time I looked at him, it was like the ground had shifted beneath me.

The truth of it all was incomprehensible, a quiet realization that settled in as we strolled through the market together.

I glanced at him, watching the way he moved with such easy confidence, the way he could make a simple afternoon feel like an adventure. It was unsettling, exhilarating, and it was all him.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with a playful intensity, his voice dipping into that teasing, confident tone that always sent my heart racing. “Just so you know,” he murmured, leaning in closer, “if you keep looking at me like that, I won’t have a choice but to make you lay all your love on me.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, caught between the thrill of his words and the undeniable pull that kept drawing us closer. “Is that a challenge?” I shot back, my smile betraying the flutter of excitement I couldn’t quite hide.

Oscar’s grin widened, his thumb tracing a light, teasing line along my wrist. “Not a challenge, sweetheart—just a promise.”

I stood there, momentarily stunned by the warmth of his words, feeling the electricity of the moment crackle between us. Before I could even think to respond, Oscar reached out casually and took the shopping bags from my hands, his movements smooth and effortless. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes—his natural ease, the way he so confidently stepped in without asking, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hey,” I protested lightly, reaching to take them back, but he just shook his head, flashing me that boyish, infuriatingly charming smile.

“I’ve got it,” he said, his tone light but firm, like there was no room for argument. “Besides, it’s only fair. You did all the hard work trying them on. I’m just here to look pretty and carry the bags.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the grin tugging at my lips. “Yeah, sure. Because that was so exhausting for you.”

Oscar shrugged, adjusting the bags in his hands as if they weighed nothing. “Hey, I’m just doing my part. You get to rock the dresses, and I get to be the guy who made you smile today. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

Oscar glanced over, catching my gaze, and his smile softened. “I mean it, you know. You look amazing. And I’m glad you let me do this,” he said, giving the bags a little lift as if to emphasize his point.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, the sincerity in my voice matching the look in his eyes. “Not just for the dresses, but… for today.”

He winked, nudging me lightly with his shoulder as we continued down the cobblestone street. “Anytime. And hey, just remember—you don’t have to lay all your love on me. But I’m here, just in case you feel like it.”

We regrouped with the rest of the crew at a quaint, sun-soaked café nestled on a side street, its tiny tables spilling out onto the cobblestones under the shade of a vine-draped pergola. The café looked like it had been plucked straight from a movie set—warm, rustic, and effortlessly charming, with mismatched chairs and handwritten chalkboard menus propped against the stone walls. Mae, Hattie, and Edie were already seated, chattering animatedly over a pitcher of iced tea, the condensation pooling lazily on the table in the afternoon heat.

“There you are,” Mae called out, waving dramatically as we approached. “We were about to send out a search party. Or, you know, just assume you two were off kissing ass and making out somewhere.”

Oscar chuckled, pulling out a chair for me with a gallant flourish before dropping into the seat next to mine. “Who, us? We’d never. Just two innocent tourists enjoying the sights,” he said with mock innocence, shooting me a playful side-eye that made my heart do a little flip.

Hattie leaned forward, smirking as she sipped her drink. “Innocent, huh? I don’t know, Oscar. The way you two keep disappearing, it’s so suspicious from my point of view.”

Edie snorted, pushing a basket of fresh bread toward us. “Yeah, and we’re all just here for the free show. So, did you buy out the whole boutique, or was it just a private shopping spree for two?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Very funny. It was strictly a ‘window shopping with a side of unsolicited fashion advice’ kind of trip.” I shot Oscar a look, remembering how he’d nudged me into trying on almost everything in the shop.

Oscar leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for knowing what looks good. And hey, she made it easy.”

Mae scoffed, breaking off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth. “Easy? Oscar, the way you two were eyeing each other, I’m surprised we didn’t walk in on a full-blown fashion montage. Music and all.”

Oscar raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? She makes everything look good.”

I felt my cheeks warm under his praise, and I tried to keep my composure as I reached for a glass of water. “Don’t encourage him,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing as a smile crept onto my lips. “He’s already got enough of an ego without you guys cheering him on.”

Edie chuckled, nudging Mae. “See? I told you. They’re basically one flirty comment away from starring in their own rom-com.”

Oscar shot Edie a mock glare, then turned back to me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if this is a rom-com, then I guess that makes you the leading lady,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasing, flirty tone that never failed to make my heart skip.

"Your shit is so corny dude, lighten the fuck up," Edie sighed, burying her head in her palms. Mae slapped her head, giggling furiously.

I snorted, grabbing a menu and pretending to study it intently. “Great, then I demand script approval. No more surprise elbow attacks, and definitely no scenes where I have to chase you down a street.”

As I pretended to study the menu, Oscar leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of my choices. “You know, I’d recommend the moussaka. It’s practically a work of art on a plate.”

“Artful moussaka? Really?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll stick to the classic spanakopita. At least it can’t judge me.”

“Spanakopita it is, then,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll get the same. Mae, Hattie, Edie, what are you guys having?”

“Just the usual—some dolmas and a slice of that legendary baklava,” Mae said, looking gleeful. “I’m here for dessert first.”

“I’ll do the baklava too!” Edie piped up. “We can share a slice and get a second for later—strategic planning, you know.”

As Hattie scrolled through the menu, her expression turned mischievous. “I’ll have the chef’s special, but only if you promise to steal a bite of mine, Oscar.”

“Only if you promise to share the secret recipe,” he replied with a wink.

Just as we were about to place our order, a waiter approached our table. “Ready to order?”

We all chimed in, each person stating their choices. I noticed a sudden flurry of confusion on the waiter’s face as he scribbled down our orders.

“Uh, so that’s two spanakopita, one moussaka, two baklava, and… the chef’s special?” he recapped, looking uncertain.

“Right!” Mae said enthusiastically.

As I pretended to study the menu, Oscar leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of my choices. “You know, I’d recommend the moussaka. It’s practically a work of art on a plate.”

“Artful moussaka? Really?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll stick to the classic spanakopita. At least it can’t judge me.”

“Spanakopita it is, then,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll get the same. Mae, Hattie, Edie, what are you guys having?”

“Just the usual—some dolmas and a slice of that legendary baklava,” Mae said, looking gleeful. “I’m here for dessert first.”

“I’ll do the baklava too!” Edie piped up. “We can share a slice and get a second for later—strategic planning, you know.”

As Hattie scrolled through the menu, her expression turned mischievous. “I’ll have the chef’s special, but only if you promise to steal a bite of mine, Oscar.”

“Only if you promise to share the secret recipe,” he replied with a wink.

Just as we were about to place our order, a waiter approached our table. “Ready to order?”

We all chimed in, each person stating their choices. I noticed a sudden flurry of confusion on the waiter’s face as he scribbled down our orders.

“Uh, so that’s two spanakopita, one moussaka, two baklava, and… the chef’s special?” he recapped, looking uncertain.

“Right!” Mae said enthusiastically.

But then the waiter’s expression shifted to one of realization. “Um, we actually ran out of the chef’s special a few minutes ago. Would you like to choose something else?”

Hattie’s face fell. “Oh no! That was the one thing I was really looking forward to!”

Oscar glanced at Hattie, his brow furrowing as he sensed her disappointment. “Hey, how about we order a few extra baklava? They’ll definitely lift your spirits, and we can make a little baklava party.”

“Yeah, and I’ll swap you half my spanakopita if you want,” I offered, trying to ease the mood.

“See? Look at that! A culinary compromise,” Oscar said, grinning as he turned back to the waiter. “So, that’s two spanakopita, three baklava, and Hattie, what would you like instead of the special?”

“Uh… I’ll take the Greek salad,” Hattie said, her smile returning. “And I’ll make sure to save a bite for you, Oscar.”

“Perfect!” Oscar declared, a playful glint in his eye. “Just be sure it’s not the size of a small planet.”

Just then, Mae reached for the pitcher of iced tea but knocked over her cup of water instead, sending it cascading across the table. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, grabbing napkins in a panic.

“Mae!” Edie laughed, trying to help. “You just wanted a splash of drama, didn’t you?”

Hattie giggled as she handed Mae more napkins. “Looks like you’re creating your own little water feature over here.”

Oscar, ever the quick thinker, grabbed a few napkins and leaned in, grinning. “Don’t worry, Mae. You’re not the first one to bring a bit of chaos to the table. Just think of it as adding a little flavor to our meal.”

"Oscar don't even," Mae rolled her eyes. "You're so bloody pasty and white you even if I added seasoning to your water you wouldn't taste any difference."

The group erupted into laughter, and Oscar feigned shock, putting a hand over his heart. “Pasty? I’ll have you know I’m just ‘lightly seasoned,’ thank you very much.”

At that moment, I took a sip of water, and his ridiculous remark caught me off guard. I choked on the cool liquid, my eyes widening in surprise. The refreshing taste turned into a near disaster as I fought to keep it all down. I felt the water bubble up in my throat, and for a split second, I was convinced I might just spray it all over the table.

My cheeks flushed as I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, stifling the urge to burst into laughter or worse, make a total mess. I managed to swallow just in time, but I couldn't help the splutter that escaped, sending a small splash of water onto the table.

“Whoa! Are you alright?” Edie leaned forward, her eyes wide with concern and amusement.

“Yeah, just… almost became a fountain,” I gasped, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Thanks to you, Oscar.”

He leaned back, hands up in mock surrender, clearly enjoying the chaos. “I’m just here for the entertainment! Didn’t mean to turn you into a water feature.”

“To be fair Osc, you're more like ‘extra bland,’” Edie chimed in, grinning as she took a sip of her tea. “You’re practically a walking Greek salad without the dressing.”

“I think that just made it worse,” I added, trying to contain my giggles.

Oscar laughed along, clearly unfazed. “Well, someone has to be the contrast in this colorful group. I’m here to balance out all this vibrant energy.”

“Right, because we definitely need someone to remind us of a plain piece of pita bread,” Hattie teased.

“Hey, I’m the life of the party!” Oscar shot back, leaning in closer to me. “And let’s be honest, without my charisma, who would keep the chaos in check? You all would be lost.”

As the laughter faded, we savored the last bites of our meal. The moussaka was rich and savory, the spanakopita perfectly flaky, and the baklava—a sweet ending that left us all satisfied. I leaned back in my chair, a contented sigh escaping my lips. “That was honestly one of the best meals I’ve had in ages.”

“Agreed!” Mae chimed in, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I could eat Greek food every day.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Speaking of keeping the fun going, I heard there’s a great nightclub nearby. We should totally check it out!”

Hattie perked up, clearly intrigued. “Oh, that could be fun! I’m in!”

Mae’s expression shifted, disappointment washing over her. “I can’t go,” she said, her voice dropping. “I’m still underage.”

Edie looked at Mae sympathetically. “That really sucks. But hey, we can still hang out! I’ll stay with you.”

Mae’s frown softened slightly at Edie’s reassurance. “Yeah, that could be nice. Thanks, Edie.”

Oscar turned to me, his grin widening. “So, what do you say? A little nighttime adventure? Just you, me, and Hattie tearing up the dance floor?”

I met his gaze, the thrill of spontaneity igniting in my chest. “Count me in.”

“Alright, then! Let’s make this night unforgettable!” he declared, excitement bubbling in his voice.

“Ain’t nobody wants to see you dance, white boy,” Edie rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Oscar feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? My moves are legendary!”

“Legendary at what? Scaring away everyone on the dance floor?” Edie shot back, laughter lighting up her eyes.

“Hey, I’ll have you know my dancing is an art form!” Oscar retorted, grinning widely. “I just need the right audience.”

"I can never argue with you Osc," Edie shook her head.

As we stood up to leave, I glanced back at Mae and Edie, who exchanged a knowing smile. It was clear they would have their own fun together. I felt a mix of anticipation and nerves as I stepped outside, the warm evening air wrapping around us like a promise of adventure.

With Oscar and Hattie by my side, I felt ready to dive into whatever the night had in store.

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author's note: a double update for my lovelies, so sorry i didn't update on sunday <3, i hope you enjoy chapters 5 and 6!!

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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09 @fix5idiots

[klausysworld]

can you please write a headcanon of yandere Klaus Mikaelson with a broken reader? Basically Klaus is delighted to find out reader is obedient and does everything he says, then later he realises reader actually gives up on hope and became a former shell of herself with no passion of life or interests.

Decided to write this in more of a one-shot kinda way, hope you don’t mind :) i just think it might work better

I’ve lost it

It had been god knows how long since i was last outside. I couldn’t remember the last time i saw one of my family members. The only interactions i had was with Klaus himself and even them most of them ended in arguments. It was becoming draining.

I was coming to the realisation that i was not going to be getting out. There was no life after my escape and no happy life where i could the busy streets and see what the world has to offer. One time Klaus had offered to show me the world, i wish i had just accepted it instead of being so rude. I should have at least let him down gently but no, and now i was sat amongst takeaway packets because Klaus didn’t have time to cook me anything.

He’s been busier lately, leaving me alone more. It’s hard not to contemplate everything. The lack of physical contact and communication was starting to get to my head.

Klaus hasn’t come to see me in maybe a few days? I couldn’t tell what time it was anymore but i was hungry. I hadn’t moved from my spot in the bed in what felt like a forever.

I couldn’t be bothered to move when i heard the door unlock, i heard footsteps getting closed and i could smell food. Real food, it made my mouth water and i closed my eyes to savour it incase it was a hallucination

“My love…i have breakfast for you” Klaus. Of course, I wasn’t really expecting anyone else. He knelt in front of me but the food wasn’t in his hands making me frown in confusion. His hand came to hold my cheek as he furrowed his brows

“Aren’t you hungry sweetheart?” He asked a little softer. I was starving but I wasn’t sure if it was worth eating anymore.

“Where were you?” i asked, my voice a lot weaker than i had hoped

“I’m sorry, my family, they’re awake and I’ve been trying to find the time to come down here…have you been using the colouring pencils i got for you?” He stood up taking a look around, his eyes saddening

“Those are the same books you had last time i was here, love what have you been doing?” He asked, his arms slipped under my body to pull me into a sitting up position making me groan, i suddenly felt a lot more hungry now i was upright as i looked around for the food. He was quick to sit down next to me with the tray practically shovelling the food into my mouth

“Good girl just keep going” he muttered as he brought some water to my lips

Once i had cleared the plate i found myself leaning into him. As much as i hated him at least he was somewhat alive. He was a real thing and he was here. I could feel the skin of his arms on mine as i shut my eyes and pulled myself into his lap as my fingers curled around his henley. His thumb rubbed circles against my upper arm making my eyes burn with tears, this man was my only comfort and yet he had taken me away from everything i had ever loved.

“Do you feel sick sweetheart?” He asked feeling my forehead with the back of his hand

“Please don’t leave” i whispered clinging to him tightly, turning my body to straddle him, my legs wrapping around him and my arms holding onto his midsection

“Please it’s too quiet” I added with a sniff as a tear ran astray down my face. I felt his hand on the back of my head and i tucked my face under his chin

“I’m not going anywhere my darling, I’m staying with you for as long as i can”

We stayed like that for a while before he lifted me and turned on the shower

“Im just going to sit in the bedroom okay?” He asked as he set the temperature, setting me down onto my feet

“No no you said you wouldn’t leave, stay you gotta stay” i sobbed grabbing onto him, his body tensed before relaxing as I practically climbed him to attache myself to him muttering ‘no’ over and over as he rocked me

“Okay… okay I’ll sit right here yeah? I’ll talk to you through the glass okay? I’m right here” he whispered

He stayed sat against the shower glass the whole time, he spoke about his family and why he was having problems with them. His mother being alive and throwing a ball. He said the ball didn’t go as planned and Kol had his neck snapped.

By the time i was out my mind was clearing over, and I wasn’t as well…crazy.

He brushed my hair and dried it, i didn’t complain or pull away like I usually did. He kept speaking the whole time, sometimes about the past and sometimes the present but never the future. I’m not sure if there even is a future anymore.

I stayed in his lap when he read a book to me, a love story between two normal people who fell for each other over time. They had a child at the end. He told me he thinks there’s a sequel and that he’d find it for me.

He only left me once to get us dinner before hurrying back.

He had been so gentle today, he didn’t yell or raise his voice at all

And so I couldn’t find it within me to push him away when he pressed his lips to mine. His lips were so soft and warm, his hands held my face as he slowly got on top of me. I didn’t protest when his tongue slipped into my mouth, I didn’t shove at him as he groaned into me, I didn’t bother pulling away when his hips rolled to meet mine, when his hand moved to touch my neck, when it trailed down and he rubbed over my breasts through my shirt. I didn’t stop him as he ground down harder his kiss growing hungrier and his hand becoming more bold as it moved between my legs, just cupping my sex through my sleep shorts.

Only when he pulled away did he take in my face, he swallowed thickly as he backed away from me

“Forgive me- i got carried away, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to” he muttered as he rolled onto his back

“Would you like me to stay for the night?” He asked quietly and i nodded bringing myself closer to him. My arm going over his chest as I snuggled into his side

“Will you be here in the morning?” I asked in a mumble

“Im not sure, i need to sneak back to my room in early enough so that my family think i stayed the night there but I’ll be back a little later for brunch?” He offered

“Yea okay, i understand” i whispered, he squeezed my tighter and pulled the cover up over my shoulders

“I love you sweetheart, so much. Just rest, i will take care of everything” his words blurred as i began to slip into unconsciousness.

The next few days…or weeks i just sort of did whatever he wanted. I did as he asked, sometimes we did some art together, he had also gotten me a typewriter to try and write stories, with all the reading id been doing i had a some creativity. I wasn’t allowed an actual laptop incase i tried to contact anyone.

Things were seeming to be a lot better. But then the realisation set in that this was as good as it was ever going to be. There was nothing that i was going to experience that would be worth living for anymore.

Klaus didn’t notice my detachment though. He was just happy that i was behaving. I never got mad at him or cried. I didn’t push or shove or kick or hit. I kissed back and sometimes i wondered if i could actually love him. But then i sort of realised i didn’t really feel much of anything anymore. I wasn’t mad or upset or disgusted but I wasn’t happy or feeling safe and cared for and loved. And i knew that he was doing it because he loves me and wants to keep me safe but I didn’t really know what was happening anymore.

Sometimes i wondered if it was one big mind fuck and i was in some weird game. Like maybe Klaus wasn’t really an original hybrid right? Like this whole thing is just to see how long it would take for me to crack. Sometimes i found myself looking to see if there were cameras or something watching me, was it a tv show?

That lasted like a week. Im convinced. I’ve lost it.

Klaus sort of grounded me most of the time, made me see and touch someone real and know that i was still some what alive. It was coming to the point where i had to pinch myself to make sure i was still real, i spoke to myself a lot, Klaus had days where he was really busy, he was better at seeing me as often as possible but still he couldn’t always balance me and his other life right?

I’d stopped writing, who’s even going to read them?

I found myself staring at his paintings for so long that i began to hate them. He had so many stupid hidden meanings it was an impossible puzzle.

The majority of my time was spent on the floor, either the carpet or the bathroom tiles if it i wanted a colder surface. Occasionally i pretended i was already dead. I mean what would he do if i were to die? He can’t just bring me back, not without vampire blood and i didn’t have that in my system. Sometimes i got worried though… what if he kept my body and kept me in my room, i worried what would happen after death, what if my soul or whatever was trapped in the room?

———————————————————————

(Third person)

Klaus was not expecting the scene infront of him. His love passed out on the floor, paper scattered everywhere and his paintings ripped to shreds. He slowly lifted her sleeping form placing her back into bed, he notices a cluster of little bruises along her thighs and stomach, pinch marks? He frowned seeing her fingernails slightly bloody and kissed them gently

He went back to the papers, no more than a few words scribbled down. It was about the afterlife and some held questions of what was happening. She wasn’t sure where she was. He felt his confusion grow seeing his paintings beaten in, the paintings of her. Her own face was torn out and a dot her blood was soaked into the carpet.

He slowly neared her in the bed after clearing the mess. His hand hesitantly pressed to her forehead to look through her mind

“Show me what’s troubling you my love”

He wasn’t expecting to find her completely emotionless while watching a clock. A clock with no arms. The ticking was persistent and yet there was no second hand, mo minute hand or hour hand. He found he was entranced by it struggling to pull himself away.

He dug further seeing her mid way through a panic attack in the middle of the room, spinning around hastily while pure fear crawled upon her face, she kept asking what was happening, why was she there? Who was watching her.

His heart ached, his wolf cried and his soul hurt seeing her scratch her legs to the point of the skin breaking.

Seeing her unmoving for days

Her laughing at nothing

Crying at the abstract painting he had made for her

And then he found a younger version of her, a small child version. Speaking to her mother

“One day I’m gonna live in a big house! I’m gonna have a baby and a husband and a pet cat! We’re gonna have you round all the time and it’s gonna be great! We can take holidays every year to slowly travel the world!” The innocence and excitement at the girl held her first plane ticket waving it at her elder sister who rolled her eyes but smiled non the less

Klaus came back from her mind to find himself crying. He wiped at his tears and sat with her hand in his

“I’m so sorry” he uttered while trying to find a way to stop her mind from collapsing in on itself.

[beacarrot]

Yes, I think I'm doing it again. One day without you turned into a week, and soon it will become a month, but I refuse to let it stretch to a year, ten years… This text is another open letter to share my experience, especially the grief of losing Liam Payne.

I've been a One Direction fan since I was 14. I discovered the band because of Liam, who, back in his “fetus era,” looked like an Australian actor I had a crush on. One day, while browsing the internet, I came across the name “One Direction.” Honestly, I didn’t feel anything phenomenal in that moment; I had no idea how much that name would change my life and my youth as a whole. I didn’t imagine the hours of research, the nearly one hundred songs memorized, the posters, the fan theories I still hope are true, the Pinterest boards full of images, the photo edits of myself with the boys just to get a taste of what it might be like to be near those five special guys. Fanfiction, imagines… the list goes on.

In the beginning, I even mocked their songs, calling them cliché. A few months later, I knew all the lyrics AND the dance from “Best Song Ever" video clip. Life has a way of transforming our paths when we least expect it, when we’re lost enough for any path to seem fine. But life is generous and shows us the "right direction."

The truth is, it was October 16, 2024. I was coming home from school, crying, and, strangely enough, I had no idea that Liam had passed. I’d been introspective in recent days, reflecting on my last months at school and my amazing friends in class. I’d been listening to One Direction more than usual, and that very day I’d listened to “Stand Up”! I got home and was getting ready to go out again; it was almost 7 p.m.

I remember precisely: my mom looked at me with that expression she used to soften bad news, but it didn’t hide her own anxiety. She said, “I want you to hear this from me, but it’s not someone in the family.” I widened my eyes, jeans halfway on. I felt calm; if it wasn’t family, it wouldn’t hurt that much. But then she said it was something about the band and that one of them had fallen from a hotel balcony and was in bad shape.

My heart skipped one, two, maybe five beats. I don’t remember my tone of voice, but I know it was loud, trying to make my mom remember who it was. When she said “Liam,” I still thought, “Well, he just got hurt, but he’s alive, right?”

“Is he okay?” I asked, near panic. Truly, I wasn’t considering the possibility that he could have passed. But my mom’s words echoed: “No… unfortunately, he’s living with God know.”

My world stopped. I wasn’t even fully dressed, and I started shouting Liam’s name over and over, as if trying to confirm the reality, as if pleading for an answer from the heavens. I looked at the photo beside my bed, which I’ll include in this post, and messaged my friends who were also fans. I cried uncontrollably. I smoked so much in those days that I literally got sick, with a sore throat. Only my mom, my friends from youth group, and school saw my true state. Edu, thank you for putting up with my grotesque sobs on your shoulder. I adore you, friend!

The first night was a nightmare, a heavy and negative energy settled in, but I was clinging to the hope that with sunrise, something might change. But it didn’t. The sun rose, and I relived everything in my head, going over the story, just wishing it was truly a nightmare. I think no one has the right to talk about someone else’s pain. Grief is an individual experience, full of complicated nuances.

I’ve been alternating between suffering, crying to the point of dehydration, listening to the songs while every line hurts. There’s the denial phase, when it feels like it didn’t happen; that Liam is out there somewhere, and we’re still in 2012. Then, the reality drops like a piano falling. And there’s anger: “Is this real? He was so young!” And finally, moments of acceptance, when I smile at the memories and look at the photos, though I’m not completely there yet. Grief isn’t a straight line; you repeat and get lost in these stages, and no one should blame themselves for that.

People have lost the capacity for empathy and humanity. It doesn’t matter if Liam didn’t know me; I knew him. Not personally, of course—he had layers, and that’s one reason we couldn’t imagine how he was self-destructing. But he was a singer with an amazing stage presence, always sweet and attentive with the fans, a real warrior in his personal life, and he certainly made his share of mistakes. He lost his way on the crazy road of life, fame, money, media, relationships, addiction; it drained the hope from that 16-year-old boy who didn’t give up on "The X Factor". Liam is a legend.

There are days I can laugh, listening to the songs and remembering their silly dances, like when I watched “This Is Us” two days after his death. I thought I’d cry, but those boys never make me cry; they only make me smile. What makes me cry are the circumstances surrounding 1D. On other nights, I cry knowing there was nothing I could do. The closest I ever got to him was in a dream once, where the boys were having a party at my house. Liam was sitting in the corner of my room, the same spot where I was when I found out he’d passed. I walked over, asked him about Louis and Zayn, and hugged him. It was a sweet, protective hug. That’s my comfort: imagining his face painted in the beautiful blue sky, knowing he was lost and needed rest. I’ll continue with my contradictory life, and when things get hard and tough here on Earth, I’ll smile because he'll be far away and safe, no longer needing to deal with it all.

I’m still hesitant about watching his funeral online. Since finding out, I’ve stepped back from social media. It cleanses my soul to know I didn’t contribute to the hate, negative energy, dirty jokes, or nasty comments thrown his way, in real life or online. I learned from Liam; I let myself be touched by his essence, loving him completely, and I learned to see the world through the lens of songs and art. Words won’t be enough, Liam. This is not a defective goodbye. I still need you, and even if I can’t see you with my eyes, you’ll live forever.

I can't post something that is not just about it, but I will just continue posting some things because they were already ready before I knew about his death.

Gratitude and strength to all!

I don't like to put black pictures blank in these moments because I don't think it's right black and white because Liam brought and still bring so much color to us.

We love you Liam, our eternal red.❤️

[starogeorgina]

Broken bonds

Paring: Ser Harwin Strong/reader

Warnings: None

2.06

Jolting upright, your hand immediately goes to your bump as your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. The candles have long since burned out, making it hard to see. You had arrived at Harrenhal during the hour of the owl, so you had gone straight to bed, only to have a horrible nightmare. You reach out for Harwin but realize the space beside you in the bed is empty. “Harwin?” When he doesn’t answer, you start to panic. You call his name again, “Harwin!”

You move fast and grab your dressing gown while getting out of bed, fully prepared to search the castle until you find him. You don’t want to waste time finding sensible footwear because the coldness of the stone floor nips at your feet. You swing the door open and crash right into a large figure.

“And where are you going in such a rush, princess?” Your husband says, with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Thank the gods,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him as much as your bump allowed. Your ear presses against his chest, and you’re able to hear his rapid heartbeat. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’d gone to check if the boys were still settled."

“Are they safe?!”

“Yes, they are both safe and in deep sleep." All humor is gone from Harwin’s voice as soon as he realizes you’re upset. “My love, what’s happened?”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you cling to him like a child. It felt so real. The smell of smoke still lingered in your nose, along with the feeling of heat from the flames. The last time you had a dream so vivid, it came true. “It felt so real. I thought—I thought I’d lost you.”

“Vaella,” Harwin cups your face so you’re looking up at him, and he wipes your tears away. “What’s going on?”

“I had a dream. When I woke up, I thought you were dead.”

Unsure of what to say, Harwin takes your hand and leads you back to the bed. He sits down first; you follow his actions and sit down beside him. He brushes your hair that is soaked with sweat out of your eyes and asks, “I’m not gone; I’m right here.”

Harwin brings your fingers to his mouth and kisses the tips of them gently before linking them with his own. You could sense he was holding back on telling you to calm down. As much as he tried to understand, it was impossible to explain how much dragon dreams affected you to someone who had never experienced being haunted by something that was yet to happen.

“I saw Harrenal burn to the ground. You and your father were both here when it happened. I could see it happening, but I was powerless to stop it." You hiccup a little. “You looked different; your hair was curlier with the tiniest bits of gray in it, and your muscles were bigger.”

He chuckles softly at the last part, then presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m right here. I’m alive.”

“Maybe it was just a bad dream,” you say, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“If your dream has shaken you, we can leave Harrenal; I don’t want you upset and stressed.”

“We came here so you could see your family; I will not take you away from that. Not over my mind playing tricks on me.”

Even in the darkness, you can feel him trying to study your emotions. “Did anything else happen in the dream?”

“No,” you say.

It’s hard to tell if he’s convinced or not, but Harwin doesn’t push the matter further. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him what else you saw, but you worried how fearful he would become if you told him.

—

You sit beside Lady Strong, Harwin’s stepmother, and her daughters while breaking fast. Usually you find sitting and having tea with ladies who do nothing other than gossip rather dull; however, you were very entertained when Lady Strong decided to cut a lady from a less known house to shreds with her sharp words. The lady in question made a remark about how neither of your sons had inherited the golden hair of a Lannister.

When Varos flew over the part of the castle you were in, screeching loudly, the lady quickly excused herself and left. You weren’t a fool, and you knew people would compare your sons, who were declared part Targaryen and part Lannister by the king himself, to Harwin’s appearance. Many seemed to forget it was treason to question their paternity and suffered the consequences for it.

“Has my brother given up his post in the city watch yet?” Cassandra, Harwin’s youngest sister, asks.

“No, he still works during the night.”

She says, “If I were married to a princess, I’d never work again.”

Lady Strong rolls her eyes at her daughter's comment. Your father didn’t feel it was in anyone’s best interest for Harwin to remain your official sworn protector; however, after a discussion that lasted late into the night, your father agreed that Harwin was a fine knight and could return to his previous post in the city watch, but he would be unable to climb up the ranks.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps entered the room, followed by a whine, “Muña!”

Right away, you kneel down on the ground to be level with your son, which raises a few brows. “Aerion, my little dragon, what’s wrong?”

He pulls at his trousers to show you his skint knee. You outstretch your arms for him to run, to which he sobs. “Ñuha mijegindita rūs,” you say, kissing Aerion's puffy cheek. “What happened?”

“The boys got a little too rough while playing,” Harwin says, entering the room. He smiles at you before turning to address the others in the room, “ladies.”

Vaegon clutches Harwin’s hand tighter; both his elbows were skinned and bleeding as well, but unlike his brother, it didn’t seem like he had cried. “Thank you for a lovely tea lady, Strong. I have enjoyed your company this morning, but I must excuse myself to go clean my sons up.”

—

For the last few weeks, you've mainly enjoyed your time staying at Harrenhal. It was nice to be away from the whispers of the keep and get to spend time with Harwin’s family; it meant a great deal to him that your sons were familiar with the castle he grew up in. During the day, you were happy, but at night, you were plagued with images of your dream. It was most likely festering into something worse because you hadn’t spoken about it.

You smiled politely as the people who lived in Lord Harroway's Town bowed to you. The town wasn’t far from Harrenhal, and although you were advised numerous times to not travel without guards escorting you, you weren’t in the slightest bit afraid, not when you had Harwin by your side and Varos was flying overhead.

You were convinced that Varos was deliberately flying in fancy loops in the sky to show off.

“I dread to think how much my sisters have spoiled the boys,” Harwin chuckles.

“Being here agrees with them, as it does you.”

He smiles sadly. If it wasn’t for how badly Alicent treated your sister, you would have gladly never moved away. “Has Princess Rhaenyra written?”

“No, and I’m worried for her.”

You loved Rhaenyra dearly, but she was infuriating at times. All you wanted was to know she was okay, and it was pointless asking your father, as he was blind to the greens behavior.

“The same dragon's blood is running through her veins as it is yours, and you are the strongest person I know. So from that alone, I know she will be fine.”

You kiss Harwin on the cheek, he always knew what to say. “I was thinking it would be nice if we invited your sisters and stepmother to Dragonstone since Rhaenyra, Jace, and Luke are coming.”

Given how terrible Alicent treated you after the birth of your sons and how cruel she was being to Rhaenyra, Harwin suggested you give birth outside the red keep so you wouldn’t need to stress about anything other than the baby, and after talking about it, you decided that Dragonstone would be the best option because it was the place you felt the safest.

A smile pulls on his lips. “My sisters will be honored—”

He cuts himself off when the sudden sound of wings flapping catches his attention. You stare at Varos, who is now flying back to Harrenhal, and ask the question of what other dragon is nearby until you hear the recognisable sound of Caraxes screeching.

“Daemon…” While others gasped and looked fearful as Caraxes flew close enough to the town to cause a large gush of wind, you smiled brightly and asked, “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him.”

Nothing else needs to be said for you to understand that Harwin must have been very concerned to ask Daemon to come. Your lips start to tremble as you realize how much you love the man standing in front of you. You lean into him, kissing him multiple times on the lips, “we should go and greet him.”

—

“Well, that was amusing.”

“Indeed, it was not,” you pout. Varos and Caraxes were actually getting along until they started fighting over the carcass of a dead animal. Daemon assured you his dragon wouldn’t really harm yours, but it still made you unnerved to see a much larger and battle-hardened dragon snapping at Varos. You were actually thankful for the bloody Wyrm winning in the end.

A comfortable silence passes as you walk back into the castle. Once inside, you begin to give Daemon a tour, which was just delaying the inevitable conversation you’d eventually need to have. He tells you how his wife and daughters are.

“Harwin tells me you are insisting he takes you to the taverns in town.”

Daemon smirks, “Do not fret; I will not allow a repeat of last time.”

You’d only seen Harwin ridiculously drunk, to the point he couldn’t walk straight on several occasions, and Daemon was present at each of them. “Laena has forbidden me from corrupting your good husband.”

“Hmm,” you quickly change the conversation. “I’m glad you came, uncle; it’s been far too long.”

“That is, parenthood often delays us from doing the things we wish.”

“Have you met Lucerys yet? He’s so tiny, much smaller than Jacaerys was.”

“Regrettably not,” he says, licking his lips. “Harwin says you haven’t been sleeping well, not since you saw something in a dream. What happened in it?”

You explain the dream to him in great detail, and the look on his face seems to confirm your fear that something bad is lurking on the horizon. The first time you had dreams alluding to the battle of the stones was years before it happened. “That’s not all; there was something I kept from Harwin. When Harrenhal was burning, I saw the Valyrian steel dagger you gave me in the flames; it had writing on it.”

“What does it say?”

“It said my son would be se bringer hen ānogar se perzyssy. The bringer of blood and flames.”

Ñuha mijegindita rūs - My poor baby

Muña - Mother

Se bringer hen ānogar se perzyssy - The bringer of blood and flames

Shoutout to @topazy for this imagine of Vaella and Harwin!!! Also below is one’s I made of what Vaella saw in her dream

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello! I hope you are having a great day/afternoon/evening/night. ^^

Can l request a Romantic Yandere Muichiro, Giyuu and Obanai with a gn darling who is like Gojo Satoru?

Thank you! ^^

Hmmm. Okay, we’re basically crossing the two classics! Gojo is a good choice tbh! Let’s go! Won’t include the exact powers but will try something else

Yandere! Tokito Muichiro

Muichiro almost feels useless at this point with how skilled and otherworldly you are. You don’t even need his protection but his Yandere senses kick in, making him rush in to protect you from the demons and the world

He can’t really control you in the ways he wants, you listen to only yourself and can’t be stopped. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to manipulate you into mindlessly trusting him

Muichiro is very affectionate towards you, patting your ego but he could care less. He wants you to love him more than anything so he clings onto you and pours out his heart every single second

He completely admires you and your skills, you are basically unstoppable and he is desperate to make you all his, his delusional mind tricks him to believe that you love him back with the way you spend time with him

“Wondering around Japan is too dangerous, stick with me. I know you better than everybody here and I can protect you better”

Yandere! Tomioka Giyuu

He is very attached to you from the beginning, he loves you and your jokester nature. He finds just the way you are really cute and he wants to be around you constantly. His obsession grows, becoming unhealthy fast

Giyuu is possessive, beyond possessive. He needs you as his so he clings onto you at every second and happily strokes your ego to ensure you will keep him around. If he is like your little affection baby, you’ll fall in love with him, right?

He will run around the world for you. He spoils you entirely rotten and kisses your ass as much as humanely possible. His love for you is as rotten and he just doesn’t care how horrible he comes out as, he doesn’t want to let you go

Giyuu is willing to throw hands for you whenever people annoy you, sure you can handle yourself better than him, but nobody should be trying to damage your angelic presence and he’ll beat others into submission behind your back. Whatever he must do, he cares less

“I’m… not twisted, I’m doing all I can for you because you are the love of my universe. I’ll give my life for you, I won’t stop chasing you… ever”

Yandere! Iguro Obanai

His obsession stems from impression, he is so unbelievably impressed by your skills. You are truly the honoured one and he feels just as honoured to be able to spend time around you. He needs to be your one and only

Obanai is defensive over you, getting furious about your arrogance. You truly believe you’re completely fine but he can’t stand that, the world is so dangerous. He needs for you to stay alive and he will do whatever he must do, kill, beat, stalk. He’ll do it all so he can finally ask make you take his hand in marriage

Obanai is a worshipping Yandere, he worships you like you’re some undead god. With the shrine he made of your disregarded clothes, nicknacks and trash, he spills all his twisted love to you to satisfy his desires and heavily admires your eyes. Glowing, sky blue, almost patterned like clouds, you and him match in the ‘beautiful eye’ category

Murder is definitely not above him at all, he will happily spill blood and flaunter the hearts to you, like a wild predator bringing a victim to it’s mate. He can’t process your disgust towards his actions as his head flips it as your amazed by his dedication to you

“Of course, my love. You are worth all this work, worth everything I can possibly give you. Just tell me who’s annoying you and I’ll drop them”

[cressthebest]

Crimsons Rivers thoughts pt. 36

chapter 55:

1. kingsley is mad at lily and i GET IT i understand. but all those people are adults and CHOSE to go on the mission. it is not solely her fault

2. NOOOO!! sybil is so dear to me!! and kingsley broke up with her!!! no!!!!

3. god, i feel so bad for euphemia and fleamont. yeah victors were saved. but their children, their two children, were the only ones not brought back home. i don’t know how i would recover

4. “there was Narcissa, who wasn't just in the hunger games; no, she played the game, and she played it well, so well that Euphemia never doubted she would win.” yo that’s fucking terrifying. i-

5. andy and narcissa reuniting has me crying so hard. their sisterhood is so important to me

6. regulus doesn’t have sirius, so all he wants is james to comfort him. i- i can’t do this

7. “It's like this, that he turns to her, and Euphemia knows immediately, just that simply, that Sirius isn't here.

He isn't, because if he was, that's who Regulus would cling to; that's the only person he ever wanted to cling to.”

okay, um, simply stabbing my heart would have been easier

8. “They all knew only one could make it out, and Sirius wasn't going to be the one who did, except more than one has, and Sirius is the only one who didn't.” 😧😧😧

9. god i love dorcas. she is not lying to anyone they saved by saying there will be comforts, but she is saying they will be safe and everyone there will be kind. i love her so much

10. dorcas caring for marlene first >>>>>>>>>

11. LILY AND REMUS REUNITED!!!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! THEYRE REUNITED!!!!

12. oh shit. wait. that was too soon. before the lily and remus reunion, he hears her say that the absolute love of his life is probably dead

13. remus’ breakdown has me in shock. like i’m not even in tears anymore, i’m just shocked. i- this hurts too bad to even cry

14. “Lily does not know much, she doesn't know what Sirius was to Remus, but she does know for sure now that he was something.

Maybe, as much as she dreads to think it, he was everything.”

😀😀😀 you can’t write lines like that. that feels illegal, to mess with my emotions like that

15. i want someone to care for me the way dorcas cares for marlene. she starts a war early to save her life. she’s willing to kill anyone to keep her alive. she will do anything.

16. “"Perhaps if you had considered the impact of the lives you planned to shape into martyrs, you would have realized that this could happen, and would be no one's fault but your own. You put those people in the arena this year, Albus, didn't you tell me that? All the ready opposition to Riddle, and you couldn't foresee this? Opposition to you?"”

get his ass alberforth. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

17. “In all his years, Aberforth has never seen a loyalty and love exist as the loyalty and love between those two boys do.”

this is so sweet if it weren’t for the context of the statement

18. 😀😀😀 wow i hate albus

19. “They are at their best together when they are showing their worst to one another and basking in the relief of being next to someone they know won't really care, or have an opinion on it, or judge them.”

regulus and remus’ friendship >>>>>>>

20. as reg is literally beating lily up he’s like “i love her! she’s amazing! she’s my savior!! 😊😊 that’s why i must try to kill her!!!

21. “It was supposed to be me and you, but Sirius is gone. Come back to me, baby, Regulus thinks, but James is gone.” 😀😀 what a fantastic start to my day

22. lily should have had a gun in canon. this au only further proves that to me. the war would be so short is lily evans was given a gun and told to just go off and do what she wanted with it.

23. zar gave marylily hints in the authors notes ??? 👀👀 marylily??? 👀👀 marylily endgame?? 👀👀🌸🍓🎉

24. authors notes: “lily lily lily my beloved <3 she really was about to blow albus' skull open, soooo sexy of her 🥰” AGREED

25. also there’s 420 comments on that chapter and i don’t want to fuck with that number.

[agentredops]

Bell Snippet - Sleep

[REDACTED] "Bell" [REDACTED] has a nightmare. Someone is there to help them.

TW for: needles and mention of blood

“Bell, we have a job to do.” I was tied up to a chair in some strange lab. I looked around, blinded by the lights above and around me. I couldn’t move anything but my head and when I looked up, I saw him. The strange man with the glasses that covered his eyes, the hair that seemed so perfect, too perfect, and the scar across his left side of his face.

“Bell, do you remember Vietnam?” My head started to pulse in pain, trying to remember what this man wanted. I started to slowly put the pieces together. I was part of a team, we were supposed to find something there. I couldn’t remember what.

“Y-Yes…” My heart started to beat faster.

“That’s good, Bell. Now, do you remember my name?” Name… Name?

“Uhh… uh...” I just kept mumbling. I didn’t know. What about my name? Who am I? My heart started to beat faster.

“Park, get the syringe, now!” My hands were pushing against the restraints, trying to get out. It just hurts, so fucking much. I soon felt something in my arm and my whole body started to feel numb. I giggled and giggled, nothing in my head.

“...We need to stop for the day, they can’t take anymore,” someone said. I just continued to giggle and giggle, feeling my heart go up again. I was here forever, nothing could save me. Not a damn thing…

—

My eyes opened slowly, feeling crusty. It was dark, faint light around the room from above. I wasn’t in the lab. I wiped my eyes and my hand touched my head briefly, getting a bit wet. I checked my whole body, seeing that I woke up in a sweat. I removed my blanket and got up. I soon found a clock. 3am. God damn it. I found the light switch and turned it on. The room was bare bones, just my bed, closet, table, and a mirror. I looked at the mirror, seeing my sweaty state, shirt clinging to my body. I took it off and saw the scars.

—

“We can remove them if you want. You are in a better state than you were a month ago.”

“I… I would like that.”

—

I touched them gently, scared that I would cut them open, seeing the blood seep out. Nothing happened. It’s all over… Nothing bad won’t happen. He won’t hurt you again. I soon heard a knock at the door and I rushed to my closet and grabbed the gun. I aimed it towards the door, ready to fire. The door opened slowly and I saw a gloved hand.

“Who are you?”

“Naga.” I aimed down my weapon as I saw him appear. He wasn’t in his usual uniform, just some dirty pants and shirt.

“What are you doing up?” 

“Nightmare,” I said, putting my gun back.

“Adler?” I nodded. I sat back on the bed, rubbing my head, feeling my hair. It felt weird, having it back, after not having it for a bit. I didn’t remember if it was Adler or my past self’s fault, but every time I think about it, I can only think of Adler. Finding Stitch and Naga was nothing short of a miracle. The fact they were alive and the fact that Stitch was in Moscow, it was like some higher power was watching me that day. Like I had a mission to finish.

I felt Naga sit next to me, putting his arm around me, his rough glove on my shoulder. It felt good, it made me feel that this was real, not a nightmare or a dream. Just real.

“I’m sorry my ynker (friend). I should have just kept the light off,” I said.

“No, no, don’t feel sorry. You should never feel sorry, your enemies will use that against you.”

“I know Naga… I know.” It went silent for a bit. I laid my head on Naga’s shoulder, tired. I wished this all didn’t happen but I can’t change the past anymore.

“Come on, let’s not cry over the past. Let's go make some tea,” Naga said. We both got up and we left the room, allowing me to leave my nightmares in the dark for now.

[the-lavender-creator]

OKAY! I’m sleepy and tried as fuck, it’s 1 am and I feel like I’m about to slip off into the best damn sleep ever. But for some damn reason I decided NOW was the very best time for me to come and rant my heart out about your fic.

forgive me. This might be long.

AGGHHHDBDUSBSJAHIH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHH-

Sorry. Had to get that out of me. It’s my knee jerk reaction to before, during, and after reading you fic.

now onto the- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

oh! Guess I had a little more in me! Ok now I seem- AGHHHH- to be- AGHHU- a little - Hxjdsisjsi- better???

BUT GOSH ALL THE THUNDER ANGST IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVED IT AND MY POOR LITTLE PATHETIC WET CAT LITERALLY

ok on to the specifics!!

first of all. I like how you make this a whole ass overall arc about Clawdeen and Toralei getting together, Toralei dealing with her plan and her feelings. And also hee super horrible mom RATerina! While also sprinkling in some absolutely god damn DELECTABLE thunder angst scenes. Oh I ate those up so ravishingly. They were so nice and angst and the most tasty words alive!

But yeah. The opening contrast of how Lighting is a norm to Monsters. And lots of times needed and wanted, compared to Thunder. Which is something Toralei fears more than anything. It’s just such a nice highlight. Cause really. Just like Cleo had her fear of the dark. It’s an unusual fear for monsters. These are stuff Humans are afraid of. And that’s probably something that gets under Toralei’s skin as well. Because Monsters don’t fear the dark or storms. They thrive in it. So when she, a definite monster, has this fear of a species she’s been trained to despise, it’s probably just this extra level of overwhelming humiliation and shame. And it really sets the tone nicely opening up!

I loved the first flashback, how it really shows the early signs of brainwashing and toxic ideologies her Mom had ingrained into her. Toralei loves power and thrives on it. It’s an unknowing coping mechanism. But at a young age she isn’t shown that it’s okay not to be in charge, and that others can be royalty too. Thag others can be in charge as well. That she’s not better than others. She was never taught that and it’s sad to read it through a child’s eyes.

and It’s so weird to see the dynamic Toralei and Lagooona have. Not friends. And more like. Hostages. Lagoona is somewhat of a hostage in her own room. Having her most personal thing used against her- where have we seen this before OH YEAH! FROM Raterina!!!

to think Toralei has inherited some of her mothers abusive traits is terrifying. For she truly is just an abused little girl who never got the love she deserved.

And oh. Oh my dear little heart. How it shriveled at reading the part where her mom yells and rants at her for hours until she is sobbing and crying hysterically for hours on end. My poor sweet girl who just wanted a hug got nothing but hate instead.

and OH. my head as poor little Toralei who wanted to be all grown up. Left alone in the house and realizing she left her guitar outside. Poor little kitten clinging to a branch and crying for all she’s worth as she thinks she’s gonna die. And what’s worse is she’d rather risk that imminent death and fear instead of going inside and risking her mothers wrath. god that sounds like a trauma inducing fear if I’d heard of any.

Ooooo the first Clawdeen and Toralei scene. Very interesting. Tantalizing. Fun how Toralei finds her adorable but excuses it like everyone does. It’s odd to see her try and manipulate her. But also it’s just. So easy to see at the same time. Hee wirh her British accent and feline smirk. Sharp claws and predatory eyes. So complex

Damn Raterina really was pulling the strings to Toraleis entire childhood. It’s gross in a way. Like she’s nothing but a puppet to her. A plaything she can control what happens too.

Also odd. Toralei says she doesn’t actually have anything against Lagoona. But it’s rather the fate of species. Is this something her mother has said? Or something that people assume from her that she eventually went ‘Oh, uh. Guess I have to hate her then?’ Too.

OH MY BABY. MY SWEET SWEET GIRL. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DONT CRY AND SHUFFER AND FUEBUFSNAIFHSUS (I love it. Hurt me more!)

Lol. Not her having a journal that said ‘diary’ in giant fancy letters that she can’t find a way to cover up. That’s such a mood. Why do companies even put diary on the front. It’s obviously embarrassing.

still rolling in my bed over the thunder angst. Poor kitty huddled up in a ball and crying and shaking and-

ok. I’m really trying not to loose myself in the angst here!

”that’s insensitive to mer-folk”

ok BESTIE THAT WAS ACTUALLY SO FUCKING FUNNY. idk y but I found that so hilarious.

Toralei giving draculaura a compliment then immediately insulting her lack of appreciation for the compliment is such a mood and a her thing idk what to do.

LOL ‘how to lure in a wolf and date her’. Throw the saddest fucking party in existence and fully lean into how much of a pathetic wet cat I am, and desperately try to ignore how deeply this all plays into my everlasting trauma from my mother!!!!

No but Raterina never celebrating Toraleis birthday 😩

Toralei the DRAMA. the one woman act. Turning up the pathetic wet cat levels to extreme today.

Aww little Frankie just wants to help but was definitely shoved into high school way before they were ready and honestly that’s so much trauma in itself cause they’re parents literally created them and the first thing they do is send them away to literally live out their life. Like- um. WHAT. The abandonment and rejection they must subtly feel. Like. Wow.

uh anyway this is about toralei.

Toralei. The drama. Who decides to have along ass gay fake romance with Clawdeen to get the necklace instead of just snatching it from her while she sleeps is such a gay mood I can’t.

it’s like ‘On one hand. I could sneak into her room and jsur steal it away? I’m a werecat I’m agile and silent! No one would hear or see me. It’s foolproof. And I have the necklace to give to my mom and win her love!….. OR I COULD DATE CLAWDEEN AND HAVE A SLOWBURN GAY ROMANCE AND BE GAY AND POSTPONE THE MISSION AND MAKE IT TAKE AS LONG AS FUCKING POSSIBLE!

oooo I’ll go with the second one! Definitely a smart decision!

AND NO POOR BABY NOT MORE PAIN AND ANGST AND YES I FUCKING LOVE IT ITS SO DELICIOUS AND JUICY AND RAW AND ANGSTY AND FONDUFNSUD CLAWDEEN IMMEDIATELY HUGGING HER AND TELLING HER ITS GONNA BE OK AND MY HEART IS BLEEDING EVERYWHERE

NO MORE TRAUMA WITH RATERINA. RHAT BITCH.

KSKSKDKS OOOOOO TORALEI YOU GAYYYY. WE ALL SEEEE ITT.

the vulnerability of fears 🥹. The little heart to heart is so precious. The exact moment toralei kinda screws up her plan by falling in love with Clawdeen

DAMN MEOWLODY AND PURRSEPHONY SO SUPPORTIVE AND MEAN AND BRUTAL AT RHE SAME TIME. like on one hand they’re being good people. But on the other GUYS TORALEI IS JUST A BAY GAY. A PATHETIC WET CAT. SHE DOESTN KNOW ANY BETTER BE KIND TO HER.

THE CONFESSION. BE STILL MY HEART.

AND YEAH THEIR ALL GAY AND HAPPY AND-

OH FUCK HERE COMES RATERINA. TIME FOR MORE AMAZING ANGST

NOOO NOT TORALEI IMMEDIATELY SHIFTING TO THE MEAN COLD TRAUMA PERSONA SHES BESN FORCED TO BE BY HER SUPER MEAN MOTHER.

oh man how angry I felt when Raterina greeted her by roughly grabbing her chin and telling her she looked like shit basically. Like THE ANGER

nooo more trauma. Her mom sucks ass.

Aw Toralei just wants to protect Clawdeen .

NO. NOT A THUNDERSTORM. NOT AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIMING SHOWINB THE MOST HUMILIATING VULNERABILITY IN FRONT OF SOMEONE WHO WILL EXPLOIT IT MERCILESSLY AND MAKE THEM FEEL PATHETIC ABOUT IT! (Not me reacting as if I didn’t prompt that exact thing)

NOOOOO SHUT UP RATERINA.

YEAH GET OVER THEIR AND DEFEND YOUR GIRLFRIEND

SOMEONE GIVE TORALEI A FUCKING HUG

WHOOOOO LETS GO DRACULAURA.

LETS GO BLOODGOOD. SLAY BITCH

YES KICK HER ASS OUT!

Love how Frankie and Draculaura know to leave them alone. Almost as if they know Toralei showing this much vulnerability must already be mortifying for her. Especially with her mom calling her pathetic for it.

HDBSUDNS CLAWDEEN BEING SO SWEET AND TORALEI ADMITTING HER ORIGINAL INTENTIONS THROUGH THE TEARS AND FEAR. THIS WAS ACTUALLY SUCH AN EMOTIONAL RAW SCENE AND PROBABLY MY FAVORITE ONE BESIDES THE RATERINA THUNFER CONFRONTATION.

legitimately I love how she admits it. Cause she doesn’t want to keep anything away from her now. Cause she loves her so much and she’s getting love and comfort she’s so unfamiliar with and her mom truly just sucks ass and gosh. And how Clawdeen knew but had so much faith in her. Probably the first one to every trust and have faith in her. Loving her nevertheless. Finding the good in her.

YES. THEM ENDING WITH SNUGGLES AND COMFORT THROUGH THE STORM. THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH LAVANDER. THANK YIU SO GOD DAMN MCUH FOR WRITING THIS THIS IS TRULY A WORK OF ART. THIS REVIEW LITERALLY TOOK ME AN HOUR IT IS NOW TWO AM IM TIRED AS SHIT. BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS. IM SO SORRY ITS SO LONG!

NUHBGYVFT AND THE WINNER FOR THE LONGEST NON-BEE MOVIE ASK EVER SENT GOES TO-

But also. AHhhhhhh thank you so much this is like legit my favorite ask ever, I love when people give me their scene-by-scene thoughts on my fics, tysm <3

For anyone who hasn't read it, the fic in question is There's Always a Storm!

[madaboutmunson]

Cryptic Cupid - Part 6 (Eddie's POV)

Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 7

Sequel to Raspberry Riddle So this is set in a government-operated hospital after the events of season 4 but everyone is alive.

Each part has a different POV, Robin, Steve, or Eddie.

Tag List: @marivictal

Apologies for the delay in posting fic updates, some not good stuff happened and I couldn't write for a while

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Eddie pockets the paper, waits until he hears the other door close, and then opens his own for the psychologist, who takes her regular seat. She clicks her pen, Eddie’s brain registers it as a starting gunshot, and he begins pacing backwards and forwards in front of her, looking between her and where he is walking intermittently.

“Did you hear about this morning? I think he’s trying to kill me, man.” Eddie says in desperation, “You gotta help me.”

"By he, you mean…."

"Who-who do I mean?" Eddie says in disbelief and gestures wildly at his now closed door to the hallway, which is still being swamped with pop music, but the Psychologist simply looks over the rims of her glasses at him, making him sigh and sit down, "Steve, my only fucking neighbour, that's who I mean." He says in a much calmer, resigned tone.

"You feel that Steve is a threat to you?" She says very seriously, looking at Eddie intently.

"A threat?! To my life? Undetermined. To heterosexuality? Yes!" Eddie runs a ringed hand down the side of his face, exasperated, "If the clothes clinging onto him within a thread of their existence were not enough. He is shimmering. Or extra shiny or something. Guys don't naturally glisten, ok?! He's doing this on purpose, and-and that smell when I opened the door. What even was that ok? Some weird pheromone potion thing?"

"Why would Steve do those things on purpose, do you think?" She says, scribbling away on her pad. Eddie bets she's just fucking doodling because she's already written off Eddie as insane, and honestly, he wouldn't blame her. He felt insane. One minute he's into Steve and wants him as close as possible the next, he wants nothing to do with him, to never speak to him again, remove him from Eddie's reality.

"Well, I don't know, do I? I don't know what to compel a guy to slather himself in some ungodly lotion…to make his muscles look bigger or more defined, maybe? I don't fucking know," he says with a groan as he kicks his legs over the arm of the chair.

"Well, let's start there, then. What benefit would Steve have in making his muscles appear bigger and more defined?" 

Eddie reclines over the back of the other arm of the chair, so he almost looks like a letter 'm' draped over it, pinching the bridge of his nose, "So people look at him more, I guess?"

"Did you look at him more because of it?" She says, crossing one leg over the other like Steve does when he knows he’s right about something. Oh, gods! Stop thinking about that prick. Nope, especially not that, do not think about his prick. NO! NO! Ok. La-la-la-la. Eddie quickly sits up in his chair again with a huff and rubs his face with his hands.

“Yes, regretfully, I did look at him more because of it, but it wasn't on purpose, you know?” He laughs awkwardly, looking at the psychologist, “It was a lot like I couldn't help it. Like my eyes kept going back there, and I didn't want them to, right? No way!” Eddie says, waving his hand in front of him.

“Ok, let's talk about that. Do you feel out of control of yourself, Eddie?” She asks, flipping a page of her notebook, making Eddie's eyes dart towards it.

“I’m not sure what you're getting at”, Eddie says nervously. The last thing he wants is to be sent to Pennhurst on top of everything else. He didn't feel like anything else was controlling him. He just wished he didn't have the longing for Steve that he did. The kind that feels like a demonic hand reaching into your body, pulling at your insides like a visceral web of puppet strings, Whilst Crazy On You by Heart plays in the background. Dragging you into the gravitational pull of the only celestial body that your brain will permit you to think about, despite your kicking and screaming because you know all this can result in is doom and heartbreak. And in this case, that neutron star was Steve Fucking Harrington.

“You say you didn't want your eyes to look at Steve, but they did. That sounded to me like perhaps you felt out of control. Am I wrong in that assumption? You can be honest here, Eddie.” She gives him a small smile of reassurance. Eddie is at odds with himself with what he wants to say. Of course, he could lie, but then what is even the point of this shrink here? If he tells the truth, he has to admit things to himself again that he felt like he’d just started to get over. Though today would indicate, apparently, he had not. At all. She flicks back and forth through the pages of her notes and looks up at Eddie again, “If you feel uncomfortable or want to talk about something else, we can. I’m taking your lead here.”

Come on, Eddie, time to put your big boy pants on. This woman can help, and she’s the only unbiased person you can talk to because everyone else seems to have fallen in love with King Fucking Steve too!

Eddie squeezes his eyes tight and screws up his face, he doesn't want to do this, but he has to figure it out. Finally, he releases and takes a deep breath, “Ok, so. I liked him, no,” he shakes his head, “I like him, in a non-platonic way. I’m usually pretty good at this, you know, having feelings for people that I know don't like me that way back. It's happened hundreds of times. I can accept that it is unrequited,  push it down, and be a bit morose about it, you know? Then bounce back and move on with my life. This ain’t my first rodeo.”  He laces his fingers together and grips his hands together tightly, “But this is different, and I don’t know if this is because it's Steve, or because we are both trapped in this place, or because I know he was pretty instrumental in saving my life. I can’t seem to get to acceptance; it keeps feeling possible. Still, after I tore into him like that…” Eddie looks out of the window for divine assistance with the next thing, as he can hear her scribbling away, and to not fall apart when he says it. “because of this.” Eddie just about keeps the crack in his voice at bay as he gestures to the scars on his face, “How could someone that fucking scintillates find someone as damaged as me attractive, let alone any feeling bigger than that? By damaged, I mean, let's face it mentally, I'm obviously fucked up, but physically speaking, I wasn't a work of art, but I had a shot at being kinda cute, I guess.” he says with a shrug.

“Is that what you are looking for? Something more than attraction?” She asks with her pen poised.

Eddie shrugs, “Yeah. But, I mean, isn’t that what everyone wants? To be loved for who they are?”

She gives him a half smile, “Let's take everyone out of the equation and let us take out what you think you should want and deserve out of it. What, in a world where anything you want is possible, would you want from a non-platonic relationship?”

Eddie folds his arms and leans back in his chair, thinking for a while, “I guess where I could be myself…Entirely!!" He emphasises loudly he didn't want to be a watered-down Eddie. The person that loved him would allow Eddie to be the weird, nerdy, loud, feral, romantic, furious, kind, disgusting, thoughtful, annoying, and tender guy he was. That's not to say they should accept it all, but that they didn't give him a hard time about it. Maybe Eddie might even balance out a little more or have the time to learn the tells when he was doing one too much. Someone that loved him enough, so he had time with them, time to learn, more than a few secret dates, or a quick affair in the woods or his van, "And so could they, and we’d still love one another, plus, you know, the other stuff” Eddie smirks shyly and then quickly tries to hide it with a cough.

She frowns at him a little, “Without knowing exactly what you mean by other stuff. Though I think I might be able to hazard a guess. The first part of what you said isn't an unreasonable request. In fact, it's actually a very healthy thing to aim for. Well, provided that the personalities in question don't hurt one another.”

Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah, well, I already did that, didn't I?” She says nothing and simply looks at Eddie, waiting. He's out of his seat again, slapping his hands on his knees as he gets up to walk around the room. "I said mean things because I thought his advances were out of pity, and if seeing my new face wasn't enough to break me, that thought sure was" he grips the back of the chair and leans over it to look directly at her, his weight shifting to his stronger leg. He knows where the next thing he says will take this conversation, right down apology avenue, then making a right onto self-hatred boulevard. "I know what I did was wrong, and I am sorry about it, but I can't bring myself to talk to him because now I know all those times he was staring at my face, it wasn't because he liked me too. It was…". Eddie feels the tears threaten to rush forth. He fights them back by shutting his eyes, biting his lips together and taking a deep breath. It was no good crying about this. It wasn't going to change his face. It wasn't going to magic away the past. All it would do was make him mad at himself for not being able to finish a sentence talking about his new permanent face feature. "It was because of these marks from those monsters". Eddie finishes looking at her intensely. Not because he has bad feelings towards her but because he is focusing on the now. He is trying to stay in the moment.

She shifts in her seat, and for a second, a look of pity flashes on her face but disappears before Eddie can call her out on it. She flicks back through her book. Her eyes scan the pages until she finds what she's looking for, "Now, by all means, we don't have to talk about this, but you mentioned in one of our early sessions about what happened at the ice cream store. That you…felt there was something there but didn't get a chance to pursue it?"

Eddie shakes his head. What didn't she understand about this, "That was before the Upside Down happened. So you know, less to be put off by then", he tries to cover it up with a laugh.

She flicks back to the present area of her notebook, "Ok, what is it about Steve that makes you think he's so superficial?"

"Er…well, that's easy", Eddie scoffs, "He was super popular at school and still kind of is. He focuses on his appearance a lot, so looks are important to him."

"Is appearance not important to you too?" She asks quickly, pulling a rushed answer from Eddie.

"No. I couldn't give a shit…I mean, other than my current problem making me feel hideous," Eddie wraps his arms around himself as she raises an eyebrow at him, "Well, ok, that's not true. I like to wear certain things and look a certain way. I guess" Before he's even decided if he's finished his sentence, she's asking another question.

"Right, so if you had come out of the upside down unscarred and Steve had the scars you had, you'd find him repulsive too, right?" She asks with no emotion, just like she was asking him what size shirt he wore or something mundane like that, but it still makes Eddie feel uncomfortable, almost sad, imagining his scars on Steve's face.

"No, of course not", Eddie volleys back, a little annoyed.

"Oh, but you'd pity him, stop liking him, but pretend you still did?" She says to him like she's stating the obvious.

"Of course, I would feel sorry for him, but he'd be alive, so ultimately...No it wouldn't matter to me," Eddie says, folding his arms and frowning.

"But it would matter to Steve, wouldn't it?" She says finally, and Eddie realises he's walked right into this one.

"Ok, ok. I get it. But I don't think you understand the difference between the two of us. Steve could have, like, anyone, you know? Everyone likes him. He's easy to get on with and normal," Eddie says with a smile.

She crosses her arms over her notebook and leans towards him, "Eddie. Do you think you are a better person than Steve? Or maybe you wouldn't be so kind and thoughtful if you were as popular as Steve?"

The question almost floors Eddie, "No. I'm not better than Steve. He's a good dude. Most popular people seem like bulldozers, you know? Take out anything in their path to get where they are going and don't care about the destruction in their wake. Steve isn't like that. He's good" Eddie goes to say something else, but the music from the hallway seeps into his room. He'd been blocking it out for most of the session, but the soft piano intro steals his words. He knows this one. His Mama used to sing it to him. Obviously, amending some of the lyrics to fit his own appearance, as she danced with him around the kitchen when his Dad was out.

Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you…

Oh god, that punches him right in the gut, and he swallows hard, shaking it out of his head.

"Everything ok, Eddie?" She says, getting out of her seat to move towards him.

"Yeah, just the song got me, is all," He says, forcing a smile, "He's been playing stuff all morning."

"Do you want me to ask him to turn it down?" She asks kindly.  Eddie almost nods silently for a second so someone can finally stop Steve and this weird mission he seems to be on, but Eddie is as curious as he was impulsive, was this just a mistake or was Steve trying to say something? Eddie shakes the ridiculous idea out of his head. It's just a song that doesn't mean anything.

"No, that's…I mean, it's fine." Eddie gives a small reluctant smile, "So yeah, It's not that I think I'm better than him. I just think he's out of my league" She narrows her eyes at Eddie.

"And yet you went back every day for an ice cream that you didn't eat, pretended you needed his help to be close to him, and learned to sign to encourage him to do the same because Steve is losing his hearing?" She asks much more softly, the gentle music a backdrop to a quick flick through Eddie's fonder memories with Steve.

"I guess I was so enraptured I just went for it. Well, more like nudged to see what he'd do. I couldn't help it. When someone gets a scent of a maybe from someone they've entirely lost the plot for, they might look past all the things that would usually tell them not even to try.”

"Someone like you?" She asks, and he nods a little sadly.

"Someone like Steve?" She asks, trying to catch his eye, and Eddie straightens up and looks at the closed door between them, and instead of trying to block him out entirely for the first time in a long time, he wonders what he's doing on the other side of it. Could he? Unlikely, but what of anything they'd been through had been likely. None of it. Even his closest confidantes liked Steve. They hadn't said as much, but if Steve was trying to be mean to Eddie, the people he loved, that loved him unconditionally, his brothers in music, and his Uncle wouldn't like him. Eddie pulls the paper out of his pocket and uncurls its scrolled-up edges to read it. 

Beautiful homes and ruins (8 letters)

"What's that?" She asks, leaning forward, trying to get a better look at the paper.

Eddie gives a shrug of a smile, remembering better times, "It's a crossword clue, you know, the cryptic kind. Sometimes Steve would ask me for help with them, though I figure he already knew the answers for most of them."

"I've never understood those," She says with a sweet laugh, "Want to talk me through one?"

Eddie's smile broadens at the prospect of being helpful rather than hurtful or doing something stupid. He crouches down next to her and unfurls the paper again.

"So immediately what jumps out at me is the word ruins, which makes it likely this might be an anagram. That leaves us with the three words left over. There is no anagram of and that means beautiful homes, so there must be an anagram of homes and that means beautiful, right? So this one is…" and Eddie freezes when the answer illuminates in neon lights in his head, "it's er…um…handsome. Yeah, the answer is handsome," he says quietly as a blush races across his face.

"Oh, the way you explained it made it seem quite straightforward. Maybe I'll attempt the cryptic ones in tomorrow's paper?" She smiles kindly at Eddie, who is still staring at the paper in his hands, slowly stepping back to his chair before he slumps down into it with a thud.

"Yeah," he says softly, but his brain is being anything but gentle, rifling through his memory banks, the answer to clue the last time he sat with Steve had been adorable. Eddie wonders if these clues had never been part of his puzzles, much like his riddles had never been written on the bubblegum wrappers. Things were starting to stack in favour of maybe he did stand a chance with Steve, perhaps he'd been looking for an excuse to self-sabotage, and the shock of the scars had given him that in spades. Eddie's stomach flips as the maybe glows brightly in the distance, in the middle of a barren wasteland, where his insecurities lay in wait in the shadows that littered the path to his iridescent possibility.

His heart thumps deeply in his chest. He knows that apologising is the first step. He turns his attention back to the psychologist, "If nothing else, I'd like to apologise to Steve but, cards on the table, I am terrified of it being thrown back in my face." He says with a hard swallow, "So I guess maybe what I'm asking is what is the best way I can do that? Bearing in mind the last time I spoke to him, I was a total asshole, but I was hurting, and I know that doesn't excuse it, but under normal circumstances, I would never speak to him like that. Never." Eddie knows she sits in there with Steve, too, she has insider information, though it's all confidential, but maybe she could throw him a fucking bone here.

"Well, I would say the most important part of an apology is that it is genuine. So you aren't apologising to be forgiven, but rather apologising because you are sorry for hurting the other person. So no matter what happens, be kind, be calm, and above all else, tell the truth." Eddie gives her a smile of thanks. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about today, Eddie?"

Eddie's eyes go to the ceiling, "Well, just in case this goes well…what are the rules around, um, fraternising with other, um, patients?"

"You know, I don't think I've read any, to be honest," She says, closing her notebook, and Eddie has to press his lips together to hide the enormous grin that almost erupted onto his face.

"Ok, great. Then yeah, I'm all done for today. Thank you," Eddie says, getting to his feet and opening the door to let her out, and as he does, he hears a new song fill his room.

You're everything I hoped for

You're everything I need

You are so beautiful

To me

He peers around the door to see the lonely boom box in the hallway but no Steve, just a closed door. He excitedly crosses the hall and presses his ear to the door in case Stevel has company, but all he hears is the sound of occasionally muffled sobs. Eddie's heart sinks at the thought of Steve crying over something he's done. A simple sorry was not going to cover this; he had to think of something grander. He turns on his heel to walk back to his room to begin brainstorming and rehearsing, but a step in that direction and the tape stops with an audible click indicating it has finished. He hears the door behind him open and immediately starts to panic, and is about to lunge towards his own door when a sequence of sounds that seems to weld him to the spot meets his ears. A soft gasp, joined with a sniffle, and finally, a frail utterance of his own name leaves Steve's mouth, "Eddie?" and even with the fear creeping up his spine, not a single atom of Eddie can leave Steve this way.

[maria021015]

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR CHAPTERS 37 AND 38!

“Hey, I got your message, why are we here?” Zaida questioned as she spotted the boy leaning against the Jeep which was parked outside of the morgue, walking straight over to him and waving Allison goodbye as the huntress drove off. She immediately picked up on his jittery disposition and loosened her blocks just enough to feel how intensely upset he was and her own heart sank in response. She recognised that exact kind of sadness. She’d felt it herself when her parents had died. “What’s wrong? What happened? Who…?”

“After I left Lydia’s I got a call from Melissa to head to hospital and inspect the body of the boy at the pool.” Stiles spoke in a hesitant and shaky voice, his knee bouncing up and down nervously. “There was another body there - Heather’s.”

“Oh my God!” Zaida gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she imagined what might have happened.

“She didn’t know I knew her…” Stiles sniffed, his eyes watery.

“Stiles, I’m so sorry,” She shook her head and pulled him into a tight hug, not knowing how else to help the situation.

“When she didn’t show up after a couple of days I knew the chances of finding her alive were slim to none, but seeing her like that - so lifeless, and pale…” The boy fumbled over his words, his arms coming around her as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. At least Zaida was there, and she was alive, and breathing, and safe. The scent of her sweet perfume was calming, easing his anxiety.

“I- I don’t know what to say to make it better,” Zaida admitted, feeling essentially helpless as she brushed her fingers through his soft hair soothingly. She’d never admit it, but she’d wanted to do that ever since he’d grown it out.

“You don’t have to say anything, just…it helps. You being here with me helps.” He nodded slightly, taking in deep, stabilizing breaths with that sweet smell of honeysuckles and grape candy permeating his senses.

“What…uh, what happened to her?” She asked, trying to work it in a way that didn’t sound insensitive.

“It was just like the boy at the pool. Strangled, slashed throat, head caved in.” He mumbled, his words distorted as his moving lips brushed her skin and sent tingles down her spine.

“Two murders, the exact same injuries…it had to of been the same person, and it can’t have been Boyd or Cora. I saw how feral they were and they would have torn them to shreds, and Heather’s been missing for a lot longer than they’ve been out of that vault.” Zaida reasoned.

“There was another girl who went missing tonight. I talked to her girlfriend at the hospital…all three of them were virgins,” Stiles revealed, still holding onto her for dear life. “Heather, that boy at the pool, and the missing girl.”

“Three is a pattern. Wait, you don’t think…?” Zaida trailed off at the absurdity of it. Although, werewolves were real, kanimas were a thing, she was a naiad…maybe it wasn’t that absurd after all.

Stiles merely sighed - it was a deep and heavy sound, full of stress - and he shifted his hands to caress her back, accidentally slipping her shirt slightly up and brushing the ice-cold skin just above the waistline of her skirt. Zaida shivered in surprise and the boy pulled away with a slight frown, blinking away the glassy quality in his amber eyes and tugging his flannel off to put it around her. “Wait, what are you-?” She questioned with a slight frown.

“You’re freezing, just shut up and put it on.” Stiles insisted and she slipped her arms into it, feeling the warmth of his body heat still clinging to the fabric. It smelled just like his shower products - just like him. His deft fingers buttoned the garment up from the front and Zaida tucked her hands into the too-long sleeves.

“Thank you,” She smiled at him gratefully, her cheeks flushing a shade of red that she hoped he couldn’t see in the dim light of the breaking dawn. Her heart thundered in her chest so loudly she worried even he might be able to hear it. She should really take a step back from him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. He was impossibly more beautiful close-up.

“Are you okay? How did it go with Allison?” He brushed a loose piece of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear to get a clearer view of her face, his fingers coming back hook under her chin and tilt her head up towards him. That look that she gave him with her lips slightly parted and her eyes looking up at him through her long, dark lashes made him pause. Sometimes he forgot just how gorgeous she was because she was Zaida - his best friend after Scott. But every time he stopped to really look at her would strike him again like a bolt of lightning seizing his muscles and stilling his breathing.

“Good, surprisingly,” Her voice came out in a breathy and quiet quality. Her eyes flickered away from him and down at her muddied boots, away from the intensity of his gaze as she cleared her throat. The next time she spoke was more solidly. “We got to talk about a lot, and…well, I realised just how much I actually missed having her as a friend.”

“I’m happy for you, then.” The corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a genuine smile. “Actually, I’m just glad she didn’t shoot another bolt into your leg.” He joked to lighten the slight cloud of strange and unidentifiable tension that had fallen over them, and she snickered lightly.

“Yeah, me too.” Zaida nodded in agreement, and the sound of an engine growing louder in the quiet of the night alerted them to Scott’s oncoming arrival. The blinding headlights on Scott’s motorbike landed right on them, causing Zaida to finally step away, shielding her eyes until he turned the bike off.

“Scott, how’d it go with Boyd and Cora?” She asked him, curious as to whether the boys had managed to pull off the rest of their plan.

“We lured them to the school and locked them in the boiler room, not knowing Ms Blake was in there. Derek had to go in and stop them from tearing her apart, but he held them off until the sun started coming up and the power of the full moon finally started to wear off.” Scott relayed with a tired expression. They could all do with a good sleep after being up all night running on high adrenaline. “Why’d you wanna meet here? Is it about the body at the pool?”

Zaida’s lips thinned into a line as she looked at Stiles’ crestfallen expression, stepping in to save him from having to say it again. “It’s Heather. They found her body.” She swallowed dryly and Scott dipped his head in understanding.

“Come on, I gotta show you something.” Stiles pulled his keys out of his pocket and walked them over to the back entrance. How the boy had the keys to the morgue, she had no clue, and quite frankly she didn’t want to know.

“So, Boyd and Cora might not have killed anyone?” Scott questioned upon seeing Heather’s body and recognising that her injuries were certainly done by the hands of the feral werewolves.

“You're gonna wish they did,” Stiles said grimly, averting his gaze away from the corpse of the girl who had been his childhood friend.

“Why?” The werewolf asked, turning to them with worry in his dark brown eyes.

“I'm not exactly sure yet...but I have a theory.” Stiles began, his voice rough from the emotion he was holding back.

“There was a third girl who went missing from the Preserve tonight,” Zaida explained for Stiles and he took over when he felt composed enough.

“The other girl who was out in the woods, Emily? Eventually, they're gonna find her. She's one of them. Emily, Heather, that guy Lydia found at the pool? All three were virgins. And they're all gonna have the same three injuries - strangled, throat-slashed, head bashed in. It's called the three-fold death.”

“So, if these aren't random killings, then what are they?” Scott spoke-up, not picking up on what Zaida and Stiles immediately had.

“Sacrifices…” The boy sighed in response, finally saying it out loud. “...Human sacrifices.”

Zaida stood at the beginning of the track, squatting and lunging to stretch the muscles in her thighs as she waited for the rest of the cross country team to join the small group of them who were already ready to go for one of their first official training sessions.

“You never struck me as a track girl, Zaida.” Danny chuckled at her as he effortlessly jogged up to where she was now stretching out her calves.

“I’ve been going for jogs in the Preserve for months now. I thought if I join, I can do this instead of those.” She shrugged. Truthfully, she felt as though she needed the extra exercise, what with everything currently going on in Beacon Hills. If it ever came to it, she wanted to be able to run as far and as fast as needed. “Why’d you join?”

“Coach makes it mandatory for Lacrosse players - says he doesn’t want us getting fat in the off-season.” Danny shrugged.

“This school takes that game way too seriously,” She rolled her eyes.

“Really? I could have sworn I saw you getting pretty into it at the grand final.” Danny shot her a mischievous and suggestive smirk. She recalled how enthusiastically she’d been cheering Stiles on that night and a flush rose to her cheeks. Had everyone discovered her feelings for Stiles before she had?

“It was a tense game,” She shrugged, hoping she sounded casual instead of dismissive.

“Oh, there was tension, for sure.” The boy winked at her and she huffed at him. “Speaking of which, if you did want to grab a ride on that train, Stiles was just saying this morning how he’s looking to give it up.”

“I’m sorry, he said what?!” She blanched, her heart stopping in her chest as she spotted the boy joining the group, along with Scott and Isaac.

“He was borderline hysterical in the locker room, going on about how he thinks some guy got kidnapped because he was a virgin and that his ‘lack of sexual experience was now literally a threat to his life’.” Danny quoted the boy and Zaida slapped her palm over her burning face. He was talking about the human sacrifices. That boy needed to learn how to keep his volume down in public. Coach Finstock blew the starting whistle and Danny began jogging backwards. “Try to keep up if you can, Callis.”

“Nobody likes a show-off, Mahealani,” She started after him, her sneakers digging into the soft ground to propel her forward until she reached the hard dirt track that wound through the section of the Preserve that connected to the back of Beacon Hills High.

“But I make it look good!” The boy laughed, and he truly did. He was an Adonis amongst them, but it would do his ego no good to know that.

As she kept a steady pace a few feet behind Danny, Isaac bolted past her with inhumane speed. Not even a few seconds later, Scott was running after him calling the werewolf’s name in warning. It was all Zaida needed to propel herself forward towards the front of the group. Her lungs burned as she tried to keep her breathing stable. They both disappeared further up the track chasing after the new twins who were in first place. Why would they be...? And then it hit her. The new boys had arrived at school around the same time the alpha pack had come to town. Peter had mentioned something about two alphas that merged to create one giant alpha. That seemed like a very ‘twin-like’ skill. How had the two been right under their noses the entire time and they’d never noticed?

Somehow Zaida ended up making it to the front of the group - considering everyone else was taking it easy due to the long length of track ahead whilst she was sprinting - but she was still nowhere near the werewolves who seemed to have gone off-road. She came careening to a sudden stop at the sight of a body strung up against a tree. The boy’s head was sagging forward but she could see the blood that had streamed from the top of his head and around his neck, drenching his shirt, jacket, jeans, and even his shoes in deep crimson liquid. The rope that had been used to strangle him was still suspending him up on the trunk. Only..upon closer inspection that wasn’t a rope. It was a dog’s leash. Her scream was caught in her throat, causing her to emit a choked sound as footsteps crunching on dried leaves approached from behind her and quickly stopped.

“Hey, hey, don’t look.” Danny pulled her away from it protectively, and from her new position, all she could see were the faces of her terrified classmates. Stiles pushed through the crowd to get to her and looked past to where her back now faced the corpse of the boy. The werewolves finally rejoined them, the twins staring at the body with a complete lack of recognition in their eyes.

“It's him, isn't it?” Stiles asked as Scott stopped by his side. Scott gave a slight nod in confirmation. It was the boy who had gone missing from the animal clinic when he was working the night before.

“Hey, get out of the way! Get back!” The voice of Noah Stilinski ordered them. The fact that he had shown up so quickly made her think that someone else had already called the body in. They had just unfortunately stumbled across it before the police had arrived. “Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence.”

“Back up! Everyone back!” A dark-skinned deputy named Tara - one whom Zaida often exchanged greetings with at the station - started to clear the area.

“Zaida?” Another familiar voice called out for her. Her brother appeared in her peripheral vision, pulling her away from the violent crime scene, frowning at her in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“It’s not the first one I’ve seen,” She admitted in a dry voice.

“Is something going on again? Is there anything you’re not telling me?” Xander asked her, and she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him this time.

“There’s an alpha pack in town, but we don’t think this was them.” She answered honestly.

“An alpha pa-” He started, clearly not having heard of that term before.

“They’re all alphas. Every last one of them. And their leader is apparently the worst of all.” Zaida interjected. “We don’t know what they want yet - we just know that they kidnapped Erica, Boyd and Derek’s younger sister, killed Erica, and tried to kill Derek, Scott and Isaac. Those two over there, the identical twins? They’re part of it.”

“You should have told me sooner,” He locked his jaw in frustration but let it go with a light huff, simply glad that she was okay. “Just go with your friends and let me handle this, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see you at the apartment.” She nodded and followed his instruction, heading over to join Stiles, Isaac and Scott.

“Get these kids out of here!” Stilinski was still shouting for the place to be completely cleared out.

“You heard the man!” Coach tried to be helpful. “Nothing to see here! Probably just some homeless kid…”

“Coach?” Scott interrupted him. “He was a senior.”

“Oh…” Coach covered his mouth and let out a long and heavy sigh. “He wasn't on the team, was he?”

“Seriously, Coach?” Zaida looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“KYLE!” An ear-piercing shriek caught them all off guard as a young woman and the hairs on Zaida’s arms stood up as her blood curdled at the sound. “Oh, God, Kyle! Oh, God!”

“Go on! Go.” Noah shot them all a stern look and they backed away, separating from the rest of the class to talk in private.

“You see the way the twins looked at him?” Isaac pointed out, his nostrils flaring and muscles in his jaw tensing as he glared.

“Yeah, you mean, like, they had no idea what happened?” Stiles scoffed.

“No. No, they knew.” Isaac insisted.

“The kid was strangled with a garrote, all right? Am I the only one recognizing the lack of werewolf-itude in these murders?” Stiles exclaimed in exasperation, butting heads with the beta as usual.

“I think you’re a bit biased here, Isaac, and I’m not blaming you for it, but I just don’t think it was them.” Zaida supported the boy.

“Oh, you think it's a coincidence they turn up and then people start dying?” Isaac targeted his response more at Stiles than at her.

“I don’t think that it’s entirely separate. It’s too weird for it to have started happening at the same time after months of peace in the supernatural realm. The two are probably connected somehow…” Zaida mused, chewing slightly on her bottom lip in deep thought.

“But I still don't think it's them…” Stiles finished her thought process for her, looking to Scott for his opinion. “Scott?”

“How 'bout you?” Isaac did the same.

“...I don't know yet.” Scott stumbled over his words, sounding entirely unsure of himself.

“You don't know yet?” Stiles repeated with a dramatically incredulous expression.

“Well, he's got a point…” Scott tilted his head with a sceptical tone. “Seriously, dude? Human sacrifices?”

“Scott, your eyes turn into yellow glow-sticks, okay? Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were to stab you right now, it would just magically heal, but you're telling me that you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices???” Stiles ranted, completely appalled.

“That's a good point, too…” Scott sighed in agreement.

“I don't care. They killed that kid. They killed the girl that saved me. I'm gonna kill them, too.” Isaac stated determinedly with a dark look in his blue eyes, stalking off.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m with you on this one, Stiles.” Zaida huffed and propped her hands up on her hips.

“It’s worth a lot,” Stiles smiled at her gratefully, and her heart melted a little bit.

[giggly-squiggily]

hello friend!! if you’re still wanting/taking requests for the valentine candy heart thingy, i have one :

hug + adore for ler kirishima and lee kaminari

if you don’t like the pairing or don’t want to write it just delete this. thank you for being such a sweet and happy writer on this hell site!! <3

Heyo friend! :) Thank you for the kind words! I definitely try my best here, akjejarjke I'm more than happy to write this for you! :D This got a tad more angsty than prepared, but it leans for towards the comfort side of things! I hope you like it!

CW: Nightmares, light angst

Hug ("I just want a hug!") + Adore ("Your laugh is adorable")

“Denki, what do you need right now?” Kirishima’s voice was soft and low, as if he were handling a spooked animal. Given how Kaminari was acting right now, he probably was. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“I-I don’t.” He sobbed, trying his hardest to make his voice work. “I do-don’t know. I don’t kn-know, Kirishima!”

“It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.” Kirishima took his hand, running his thumb against his knuckles. “Come back to me, Denki. It was only a nightmare. Just a bad dream. Can you feel me? I’m solid flesh. Do you want a hug?” When the other nodded, he gently pulled him into his chest, letting Kaminari cling to him as he cried. “There we are. See? I’m alive, and so are you.”

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so-sorry. I’m a me-ess!” Kaminari wheezed out, feeling himself start to calm down as Kirishima ran his hand gently up and down his back. “God, I-I’m such a b-baby.”

“No, not at all.” Kirishima hushed him, setting an easy breathing pattern for Kaminari to follow. “You’re not. I promise you're not.”

Eventually, the tears stopped, and Kaminari could breathe again. Wiping his eyes, he remained against the redhead’s chest, too tired to move. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We all have nightmares.” Kirishima reassured him, squeezing his friend gently. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Denki only shook his head, his thoat too sore from crying. “I don’t. Just…hold me?”

“Okay, bud.” The redhead smiled, running his hand up and down Kaminari’s back as he closed his eyes. A small smile started pulling at his lips when his hand dipped near his ribs, but he didn’t wiggle away. If anything, it seemed to relax him.

“Hey, do you want me to tickle you?” Kirishima asked, his hand resting on his ribs. “I won’t if you don’t.”

“...Yes please?” Kaminari nodded, giggling softly when the fingers against his side moved. “Ahehehhehhe! Kihihihirishihihihma, gehahhahahhaha!”

“There it is. There's that adorable laugh of yours!” Kirishima smiled, gently pulling his friend into the bed as he carried on his gentle tickles. “Let’s get you feeling better.”

Candy Heart Prompts Are Officially CLOSED!

[pleasesendfrogs]

Vent Post?

God I haven't posted anything vent-related in for so long, but I had so many feelings to jot down and I needed to get them out somehow. If not for me, maybe for someone who understands? I don't know.

TW: gore, self-mutilation, mental health issues, PTSD, SA reference, Child abuse reference, just a lot of not great stuff that you shouldn't read if you're not in a good place for that. If anyone needs to talk, shoot me a message.

Every day it’s something new. Today I wanted to rip my eyes out of their sockets and swallow them whole. I thought maybe it’d stop the spinning in my brain. 

I wonder if I’m truly alive. If I pulled my heart out of my chest, would it beat?

Like a responsible adult, I dress up once a month, do my hair, put on my best impression of a recovering patient who’s no longer suicidal, no longer a priority, and I go to therapy. I tell my therapist each time that I’m proud of myself for making it to the maintenance stage of therapy, and it’s not really a lie. I mean, I worked hard, and I fooled them all. 

My teeth pushed together today in an odd way, and less than a minute later, my face was drenched with tears. This is not my body. This is wrong. It shouldn’t feel like that. 

My body feels like it’s being eaten away at, slowly. The worms have made their way to my brain and are laughing as they chow down on that delicious gray matter, taking my self-awareness with them. 

I try to be cold and emotionless; perhaps it would be easier that way. I cannot. My emotions are as real as the feeling of cold rain sprinkling onto my clothes, sticking it to my skin. My emotions dig their tendrils into my mind, my body, my soul. They are relentless. All I want is for the storm to pause, if only for a moment. 

I can still feel the hot, hot, scalding hands running down my waist, down my thighs, on my throat, on my face, on my chest. No matter how I scrub my skin, the feeling lingers. The smells linger, no matter how long has passed. I can smell the sweat, the musk, my own fear, the salt from my tears. 

I want to devour the world, the universe, and then take a very long nap. Sleep is the only thing that I find comfort in now. I read for hours a day, I watch TV, I go on walks, I work, I read some more, I cry a bit, and then eventually I fall asleep. I wake up with wide eyes and cold sweat usually twice a night, but it’s still the most at peace my mind will ever be at. 

I used to be addicted to trying to find out what was wrong with me; depression? anxiety? PTSD? bipolar? I stopped guessing. I don’t need another problem to add to the list. 

What in my life could have caused these feelings to cling onto my skin like a heavy t-shirt during a humid July day? Why am I like this, when people who have faced so much worse are living fine?

I want to go home. I want to go back to when things were warm and fuzzy and small, and I don’t remember anything, but if I think hard enough, i can recall the feeling of hands around my throat, of slaps across my face, of hands pulling my hair, of voices screaming in my ears so loud they ring.