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bg-brainrot · 6 months

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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile.

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence. When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion comfort #spawn astarion

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inkskinned · 1 year

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over time the thing i have had more access to - through healing, maybe, or because i got out of that house, or because i was lucky, or because of those who taught me, or all of it - was this sense of a type of love that was all-encompassing and easy. nonromantic; it wasn't anything rose-colored but rather a world seen through honey.

it is this sense that i am in love with birds, and puddles, and how the nose of my dog moves. i am in love with my best friend's hands, and i am in love with your eyes, and i am in love with the little blades of wildflowers turning their heads towards the sun. today my mother told me one of my favorite flowers - lily of the valley - is endangered. i almost wept. i love them, i said.

when i was younger, and i said i am staying for the love, i thought love could only fit into a single birdwing. like a nesting doll; you could only find love somewhere balled up; hidden. you had to pry first, unlock. it would not absolve; only give you a moment's rest. somehow i thought - that was all.

oh but. this love, now. a love of how trains move, and how clouds scud the blue, and how when i asked does anyone have a bandaid i received offers from each person in the room. it is the love of a grey sunday and of mixing paint and of jazz music and seeing my neighbor sigh while he leashes his dog. this sense that it is all lovely and magical, that it is all romantic. the sense that i am in love with breakfast foods and i am in love with book nooks and i am in love with poetry and plants and how you braid your hair and how we shift our weight at the bus stop; and how each of these flood me, effortless and sleepy, like a memory of something i learned as a baby.

i think tomorrow for practice i will teach myself how to love the grey carpet of my ratty apartment; and how the fibers all hold hands with each other and snuggle into bed together, their forms all spooning. i think tonight i will love how my yoga mat leaves little imprints on my knees; a marathon of sticky kisses where the grooves all begged stay with me please. i think i will love the melon rind and i will love the ugly dark bruise.

while we're at it - although we are apart and have never met, i think right now, dear reader. i love you.

#warm up #writeblr

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ariseur · 2 months

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✧˖° - 5 CENTIMETERS PER SECOND.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - featuring ; satoru gojo x gn!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - synopsis ; some bandaids and a movie is all you need with satoru.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - word count ; 1.7k words, -7k characters

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - cw ; sfw, gn!reader, friends to lovers ( eventually, for now it’s more so borderline ), mentions of blood and cuts, small cameo / mentions of haibara, suguru, and shoko, satoru teasing you when it’s all truth in actuality, intended lowercase

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - notes - working on an angsty fic rn and decided to hold you guys over with a small satoru fic 🫶 hope you guys enjoy for now

“shut your mouth.”

“i didn’t even say anything—!”

you turn your head back at satoru, tensing your arms as you cross one over the other. “i could tell you were gonna say something stupid,” you grit your teeth, “you always do.”

as per usual, he lets out a dramatic gasp as his hands fly up to clutch at the left side of his button up, right where his heart is at. you scoff, shaking your head before turning back to rummage through the drawers, in search for gauze and a couple of bandaids. he sighs, “such low standards you hold me to.”

your fingers grasp a small box of tan colored bandaids as you huff at the saleswoman on the front, a painful looking smile on her face.

you bump the wooden drawer with your hip, walking back over to satoru who sits on the edge of your bed with his legs spread comfortably. you roll your eyes immediately once you catch sight of his face, a boyish grin plastered on his lips enough that his cheeks almost look a little rosy. satoru always got a kick out of pissing you off.

your lips press together into a small pout, even subconsciously, your face couldn’t help but give yourself away — only giving gojo all the more reason to tease you about it.

“shouldn’t you be with shoko? i’m sure she’d be doing a much better job than i would,” you murmur as you grab his face, cheeks squishing beneath the rough pads of your fingers ( because no matter how many skincare products you’d use, you can’t hide the calloused feeling of your battles even from your body ) as you turn his face from side to side, trying to ignore the creeping prickles of embarrassment behind your ears under his gaze.

“you’re fun-ner to hang around—“

“not a word.”

“— and this gives you an opportunity to get close to me, such an honor, right?” his eyes narrow at you with his smile, now close lipped with his head tilted up at you. you suppress the urge to let out another, ‘tch’, and instead lightly smack his cheek, which surprisingly isn’t met with a wall of his ability and is instead responded with a half-hearted, “ow.”

“give me your hand,” you don’t look up at him when you say it, making a pout of his own begin to form on those pretty pink lips, a habit he’d always do when things wouldn’t go his way— which you were reminded, wasn’t often. your own hand extends as it awaits his own and you don’t even need to look at him to feel his obnoxious smile. “y’sure this isn’t just an excuse?”

“i’m sure, asshole.”

“ouch, i would’ve preferred ‘handsome’ but you know, whatever floats your boat,” he says. you know he’s just teasing but a flush can’t help but make its way to your ears. refusing to let it get to you though, you grab his hand yourself as you start to dab cotton on some of the open wounds left behind from his mission ( which you were still not given a clear answer on why he didn’t go to shoko for his stitches and instead bee-lined for your dorm, in need of you ).

“maybe just keep your mouth shut for this part, yeah?”

“part?” satoru inquires, before his mouth twists into a sneer at the sight of you grabbing the hydrogen peroxide, putting the ball of cotton underneath the opening as you tip the bottle upside down for a split second before turning back to him with a smile.

you hum in agreement before grabbing his fingers, spreading his two middle digits as you examine the skin for the laceration you had spotted earlier. despite what he knew was coming, satoru didn’t make a move to escape. he simply closes his eyes, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist — thin fingers coming to where your pulse point rests. you can’t exactly say why you did it, but you let him hang onto you. maybe suguru was right. maybe he was growing on you, after all.

you grit your own teeth as if you were the one getting disinfectant on your own wounds. holding it there for a quick second, your ears prick up at gojo’s hiss as you pull away. “blow on it,” you affirm, causing him to peek a cerulean eye open at you, taking in the way you hold onto his fingers for a bit before looking away and making your way over to the trash can.

truth be told, you could’ve totally shoot your shot and threw the cotton ball in the trash from that distance, but you couldn’t let satoru have front row tickets to your sympathy ( even though you had a feeling he probably exaggerated his reaction for your attention ).

you hear a, “do it for me?” from behind you and turn only to see his puppy dog eyes and his glossy lips, holding his hand out for you to grab again.

you scoff, “let it burn then.”

he instead, blows cool air on it, like you asked.

walking back over to him, you hand him a small roll of finger tape for him to use and decide not to help him this time. an oxymoron lies within him, a man who can be so dumb yet so smart at the same time — he really can do anything, you think.

“you missed out this mission, y’know,” he laughs as you cross your arms, making sure he applies it right, and of course, knowing you see through his façade, he does. “me and suguru kicked curse ass. well, that’s nothing new but you know—“

“stupid,” you flick his forehead, not even letting a chuckle slip past your composed demeanor at his entertaining grumbles of, ‘ow..’ you put your hand on your hip as you cocked your head at him quizzically. “if you kicked so much ass, how come you can’t take care of yourself for once?”

“because i have my darling, amazing, and super caring friend to take care of me?”

“i’m not sure you’d describe shoko like that.”

“talking about you, you know,” he drags out the last vowel in his keen, rolling his eyes as a playful smile makes its way onto his face.

you laugh at that, “i’m not sure you’d describe me like that. did this curse scramble your brain or what?”

gojo tries not to reveal the feeling of triumph that arises in him when he makes you laugh, although his posture perks up a little too obviously at the sound. he taps a finger to his chin in thought. “when have i ever not been nice to you?”

“you ate the cake that suguru got me for my birthday, you tripped me the other day, you—“

“yeah, but i do all those things because i love you,” he responds proudly — neither you nor him focus on the heavy weight it settles on both your chests. “yeah right,” you roll your eyes.

he sighs, moving back to make himself comfortable against the plush pillows of your bed as his head sinks into them. “so,” he grins at you, “wha’dya wanna watch?”

“bold of you to assume you’re spending the night here,” you huffed as you watch gojo’s arms fold behind his head, snowy strands of hair splaying out against his skin. “you wouldn’t kick your favorite friend out, would you?”

“so manipulative,” you mumble as he lifts his hips up so you can search for the remote under the covers, because despite all of your comments, satoru gojo is never denied.

once you find it, he reaches over you to try and grab it before you use your leg to keep him away. “uh-uh, my dorm, my rules.”

“actually, it’s the school’s dorm — if you wanna get technical,” he says, pushing up his glasses as his voice raises in pitch. you glare at him, he stops.

you surf through the multitude of movies that are available for free with your subscription, listening to satoru’s mindless chatter as he points out a few new movies that are coming to theaters soon, how he wants to see them with you ( and suguru, who he’ll hopefully use a decoy before he coincidentally ‘has plans’ and has to cancel, leaving you and satoru alone ).

“oh, that one—!” he points to the screen, propping up on his elbow as you click on the thumbnail. ‘5 centimeters per second’, you read as your eyes squint to read the synopsis.

“you really wanna watch a romance movie?”

“hey, it’s a good movie — haibara cried,” he retorts.

you scoff, “are you sure you didn’t cry?”

“whatever, let’s just watch it, yeah?” he grabs the remote from your hands ( making sure to graze your fingers with his own ) as he clicks the movie to play — the familiar tune of a piano quietly filling the room as you turn off your lamp.

you watch the opening, resting the back of your head against your hand as satoru gets comfortable. you try to drown his mindless chatter out as you close your eyes and focus on the low audio, the dialogue not even being enough to draw out his low voice next to you. the small nudges against your arm don’t exactly help either.

“you asked me to watch this movie yet you keep interrupting it,” you finally say, your speech cutting short at the last syllable once you realize his intense gaze focused on you. no smile, no teasing quirk of his brow, just an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity swirling around in his eyes.

you laugh to get the tension off before he smiles too, giving you an amused huff before turning his head back to the movie; once again ignoring the growing weight that sat on both of your shoulders, satoru’s heart palpitating ever so slightly as you tapped your foot against his.

cerulean eyes find their way back to you, finding your own pair fixated on the distant screen as takaki comes on screen. his grin widens further. he taps his foot against yours.

𐙚 join my taglist ; @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz @seternic @kalulakunundrum @2ukika

𐙚 requests are open — july twenty-seventh, 2024 ( 12:50 am )

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whoahoney · 2 years

Text

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n

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azulsluver · 1 month

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𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧

tw/cw: bullying (bully!reader), verbal/physical abuse, stalking, graphic violence, obsessive behavior, breaking bones, unintentional emotional manipulation, noncon kissing.

summary: as a child, you refused to befriend josuke, bullying the poor boy who was smitten no matter what you did to him. until he’s grown tired of you turning him down, he can’t seem to take your rejection to heart anymore. he’ll gladly give you a hands on experience of how much you’ve hurted him over the years

When he would wave at you from across the room, waving with those pearly whites, it irked you.

He must’ve came back to haunt you of your wrong doings. Just when you came to a conclusion and accepting of the past, he lingers still. With Josuke’s popularity you expected him to use that as leverage to get some form of revenge from you, anything that’ll leave you scarred, looking over your shoulder while you scurry to class.

Paranoia eats you inside out, he’s so nice to you. Calling you by your first name and handing you pencils because you just so happen to have them missing each time.

The same boy, grown, yet annoying.

You noticed your friend group would slip away as they had excuses to leave. Some even moving schools, and many cutting off contact without a reason. You’d find yourself alone, not always, as Josuke managed to worm his way into your pathetic, failed relationships. There’s a feeling in your gut, watching as Josuke sat next to you in comfort that your best-friend had been sent to the hospital. Along the teary eyes, Josuke had a glint in his that caused you to shield your face away.

[☮︎] maybe it was fate •••

Higashikata Josuke. His name caused you to look up from your coloring, the teacher kneeled as they motion their hand towards you. A smile on their lips as Josuke nervously walks up to you. You find his weary expression funny.

Play nice they said. You can do that. Scooting to the side to let Josuke settle next to you, handing him your share of the crayons. He takes it with ease, the two of you in silence as you color. Not minding him scooting closer, just where your elbows touch.

At such a young age, you at first didn’t understand the concept of personal space. Your parents held you, kissed your cheek and walked you with their hands in yours. You loved the physical contact. So what bothered you when Josuke held yours? Was he too rough? Did he squeeze your fingers for too long or sweat so much? You find yourself pulling away from him, finding the words to say no. He can’t hug you, you don’t like it. No, he can’t kiss you just because he’s playing husband. You’d demand for a divorce and run away from baking the plastic cookies.

It felt good to voice your frustration. Josuke seemed to have listen after countless attempts, going with sulking from afar as you play with your other play dates. He wants you to play with him. Don’t find another husband or wife. He can be a good husband, so why do you avoid him after his sorries?

When your mother tucked you in for bed with a kiss on the cheek you couldn’t help but pull the covers to your mouth. Clutching onto your plushy that smelt like her perfume, her hand gently rub against your forehead as she leaves your door ajar. You think back to Josuke.

He follows. Too close, too far. Wherever, giving you his juice box or putting a bandaid on your knee. Wherever.

It’s bad to think, but what would work to chase him away. Dulling over mindlessly, you’re preoccupied with one thought; Josuke to leave you alone for good. Maybe your older friends would know.

The first thing you’ve done from the whispers that encouraged you to rip up the drawing he made for you. Dumping milk on his bag accidentally; it’s okay he tells you, it was an accident after all. He’s happy you’re not hurt!

You shoved him a little too hard. His elbows got scrapped from the concrete bellow as your friends laugh, but you don’t laugh. Your cheeks are flushed, angry, embarrassed. Josuke took your first kiss. Mommy told you to save your first kiss for someone you’ll get married to one day. Your lips burn for the amount of times you tried rubbing it with the back of your sleeve. Josuke apologizes, but he can’t seem to get the words out of his mouth before he’s crying in his hands. That was the first time the teacher called your parents. You’re a good kid. Josuke is too. But the other students tell the teacher how mean you are to Josuke, and besides, he’s just a boy.

[☮︎] doing whatever it takes •••

Burn his books. Discard his hard earned sneakers. Lock him in bathrooms. Dump his lunch in the gardens. Flick nails his way. Bold, hungry for release, to shake Josuke off. To find yourself with your foot on his shoulder, pushing him further down as he apologizes for upsetting you.

You’re disgusted with yourself, disgusted at him for allowing this to further continue. Did he enjoy the back of your hand against his face, nails that dig itself in his arms to push him away from getting any closer?

You tried everything that would make him lose interest in you, make him hate you and see how bothersome he was. As usual, Josuke trails behind. Recalling a time during events where parents joined to see how well their kids were doing, Josuke’s mom was like an angel compared to him. You almost felt bad, Josuke lied for you—the times you asked him to meet up at parks in dangerous parts of the town.

She talked so highly of you, thanking you for watching over her son. You had the urge to yell at him, and her for feeding into his delusions as he gave you the tightest of hugs. They’re watching, and you didn’t have the nerve to push him off.

Josuke’s hugs hurt, you can tell he’s holding it back. You’re unsure why you let him stick around longer than usual, pity for his mother caused you to soften perhaps…. Things began to settle slowly, the tidal waves of your hate dwindled as you gave up. Not completely, never, not when he tells you ‘how happy you make him’ and along the lines of “I hate seeing you upset, you being happy makes me happy.”

[☮︎] karma favors him •••

“What sick fuck did this to you?”

Your friends single eye weakly looks up at you. Her head isn’t able to move, supported by various of bandages that cover her head to toe.

Hearing your voice made the heartbeat monitor pick up, resulting in you grabbing at her face gently to stop her from panicking. Her chest heaves up and down as small gurgling sounds leave her lips, casted arms shakily crawl up to your sleeve as her dry lips part and close like a fish gaping. It was painful to see her like this, it made you felt responsible.

“It’s Josuke. Isn’t it?”

Your left eye twitch as you groan to yourself, pressing your head towards their chest. Like yours, it beats, it’s fast and furious against your eardrums.

Should you feel angry at the moment? Confront him and report it to the police. But you doubt your friend would have the guts to confess, and who would believe you over sweet, kind Josuke?

[☮︎] it’s not your fault ••• you know that?

You don’t get into many fights. Ones that involve scratching and biting, that only occurred on a day during the seventh grade. Father’s Day. You put on your best outfit that day, your mother did your hair too. You clung onto your father as he shakes hands with other parents, refusing to make eye contact with Josuke who came with his mother instead. You never really asked him about his father. Your father encouraged you to play as the adults discuss about things. Faintly hearing the praise of Miss Higashikata for coming, for being such an upstanding mother and filling that role for Josuke.

Influence is a strong force to be reckoned with, you felt powerful being with your friends as you corner Josuke.

“Josuke has no father, how does he become a man?”

“He doesn’t, he’s just a sissy like his mama.”

You don’t say anything. There’s a lot you want to say, but now wasn’t the time. You want to relish in this moment, watch him look for you for help like he always did.

“I’m not a sissy! Don’t talk bad about my mother, she’s better than all of yours.” The doors are locked. Who locked it?

You’re getting riled up just by being there, fists clenched by your sides when Josuke pushes past the others to reach for you.

“Tell them, [Name]! I told my mother about you, she told me we’d marry one day!”

Your friends laugh again. It’s taunting, it’s hurting your head as you glare at him. Marry? Did he think he had a chance, with you? The word itself makes you bold, grabbing the collar of his shirt as you point a finger at his nose daringly.

“Who said I’m marrying you? I wouldn’t wanna marry a fucking loser with that hairstyle, you’re so gullible if you think I’d say yes!”

Your neck nearly snaps to the other side. A series of gasps and screams echo through your brain, confused, yet you bring your head against his. His pompadour isn’t safe as the both of you smash into one another. Josuke’s nails claw at your cheek, grabbing onto you as he slams you against the wall nearby, with furious kicks to his stomach you both put up a fight for control. You bite onto his hand when he tries to cover your mouth, he doesn’t flinch but tightens his hold on you.

Your friends have already left the room, yelling and running down the halls in hope a grown up was around.

“Don’t say that! Don’t say that, you don’t mean it, say you don’t mean it [Name]!! I love you, please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

He cries out. Crying, crying, crying. You grit your teeth against his hand as you deeply inhale. Your mouth taste funny, not knowing you but through flesh to draw blood as you punch him on his cheek. Your hair, ruffled as you gain the upper hand by biting harder. Josuke shrieks from the pain, falling on his back as you straddle him. Hit him. Again. Again. Again. It’s making your knuckles hurt. But you keep going. Even when he holds you closer by burying his head in your stomach.

“I hate you! I hate you, Higashikata! I never wanna see you again!!”

You repeat it like it’s the only thing you wanted to say, needed to say, you scream and kick when you’re pulled off of him. Flailing your arms and legs to be free. Frenzied, your pupils are blown wide after seeing Josuke curl up to his mother and the many of adults surrounding. You’re crying too. You don’t want to be a crybaby. But you sob louder when dragged away and into your own fathers arm.

[☮︎] confessions •••

The note inside your locker felt like a curse beginning to arise. It reeks of his cologne, heavy and musky of a scent you complimented on a man taking the bus. Ever since Josuke has worn it. There’s little chatter from behind you that has your clothes stick to your body like glue. Hesitating, before taking the note out of your locker to quickly skim through it; balcony, just you and him. Him.

You shouldn’t go, but your legs have a mind of its own. Each step up the stairs were like unlocking every waking moment with Josuke. Was he ready to seal it all? Push you off the balcony or confess once again. This time, you aren’t sure if you could reject him as usual.

Teeth clatter against one another, trying to sooth your nerves by running a hand behind your neck. The ends of your hair stand up straight now you realize you’re at your final destination. Shutting and opening your eyes, as if you didn’t open them quicker you feared Josuke would be in front of you, you’re so scared it’s stupid, facing your problem, it’s all coming down to this point as your fingers find the handles to the door and push open.

“I didn’t actually think you’d show up.”

His hands are in his pockets, leaning against the wall with an unreadable expression. The tone is playful, but being playful has to make your brows twitch, lips curl, anything, to look playful. Josuke doesn’t look playful even if he sounds like it. You don’t miss the way your voice cracks as you let out a nervous laugh.

“What’s it to you….. What do you want, Higashikata? I don’t got all day.”

That’s right. The graduation ceremony ended an hour ago. Friends and families are outside. But they’re not up here. He pushes himself off so effortlessly. The heel of his nice sneakers make your brain itch for how loud it is. Silent as he positions in front of you. That same, sickly smell of cologne slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve been thinking. You know. Us?” You frown. Narrowing your eyes as you take a step back for space. “I took what you said. I wasn’t being thoughtful. Always bothering you, and I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, [Name].”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. That you had to push me away. Throw my things in the lake, steal my money. Hell, what else was there?”

“Are you fucking with me?”

Your tongue gets stuck in your throat. Blanked out. But something feels wrong. The weight on your shoulders you’ve endured those many years burn heavily. An apology should’ve lifted it. But it doesn’t.

“I do feel horrible, honest! But, I can’t really let you walk away scotch free from this. You looked so comfortable, I want to be a part of that. Maybe that beating you gave me did something to my head, haha, I can’t…I can’t forgive you, [Name]. You reaaally hurt my feelings.”

Josuke grabs the side of your head without warning, choking on your own spit as your head slams against the door behind you. Your vision turns white for a split second before he grinds your head, the cold, metal door creaking under your weight. He pulls back before doing it again, you don’t get the chance to stop him as you panic.

“I think about it day and night. You were such a strong willed person, that’s what I like about you. You had a goal, dreams, and achievements, but it doesn’t seem all that fair.”

Josuke sighs, your hands snap to his wrist to tug him off. Warm blood trickles down your forehead and the right side of your cheek.

“It’s selfish. I try though, I really did, you deserve so much better. But does it excuse how I had to suffer. I would’ve liked it better if you just pretended it was all fine. I hoped one day, you would like me back. I did so much for you.”

He’s rambling. All the while his knuckles knock your breath away, you try to hold onto his collar to make a step forward. Cringing at the wet, cracked sound of your nose. Josuke shuts your mouth with his palm, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek as he shushes you with mockingly, so tenderly. The first thing your body could react was to bite down. Snagging on his flesh as blood makes its way to your lips and tongue. Josuke hisses, your foot knees him in the gut, it’s harder than you remembered.

He pulls away from you with a grunt, letting you break free, cradling your head in your palm to feel the wet liquid make a mess of your face. You hate him so much. You knew he wouldn’t change.

You snarled, messily rubbing your cracked nose. Busted lips and heavy eyes bore into Josuke as he pants, bringing his bitten hand closer to his face.

“Hah— y-you bit me again. Did you know? This was the same spot you had your teeth on before? You left a nasty mark.”

He jokes as if you were mere friends talking about the good old days. And it makes you worried. You keep trying to breathe in through your nose, the adrenaline you felt before is no longer there as you put a hand over your throat. It’s tight. Clawing at nothing, you fall to your knees as you struggle to open your mouth. Wheezing as if an animal had its jaws latched onto it. Josuke makes himself known by blowing a kick to the side of your face. You think a tooth broke.

“Hey, hey, pay attention to me will ya, I’m right here.”

You scream in pain, well, you tried to, his foot is on your chest as he pushes down. Your broken ribcage stabs at your organs, tears have finally made itself vulnerable as they coat your disgusting face. So much for looking presentable for today.

“Does that hurt, [Name]? I could make you feel better.” He’s kneeling in front of you, arms on his bended knees as he plays with your contuse lip. Smearing the blood further and into your mouth. “I always try to make you feel good. I wouldn’t do this but, since you think moving was a good idea I felt it was needed for a demonstration of my hard work. You get me?”

You don’t know if you could hear him right now. The pressure in your throat still present as you claw mercilessly at it. You blink a couple of times, gasping on your own blood as Josuke has his hands cupping your cheeks.

“C’mon babe, I need to hear the magic words. I promise it’ll help the pain, don’t you want to feel good right now?”

You feel so helpless. It’s embarrassing yet your eyes flutter back from the lack of oxygen. The weight is gone.

“Say it, please.”

“…hng..I- ugh—! I love y-you, Josuke…”

You don’t think it’s you. It doesn’t sound like it came from you. And you never think in all your life you would mutter those words to him. But he’s so gentle. Kissing you, soft, loving. You want to spit in his mouth, bite down on his tongue as it evades your mouth, but your body is unresponsive. You’re not even moving silly. But a presence, so warm, makes your aching body feel like you just soaked in the hottest bath in the world. Fighting back doesn’t even cross your mind anymore.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba x reader #yandere josuke higashikata #yandere josuke higashikata x reader #reverse bullying is my drinking source #bully!au

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literaila · 7 months

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Oh my god 😭😭 that's actually devastating and mildly concerning. Gojo is COVERED and no wonder megumi looks grumpy. Poor tsumiki smiles... She's pulling through

you know i have to take this idea and run with it—

megumi cant say that he loves it when you’re gone—sure, there’s the fact that it most likely means that you’re out dealing with a curse, and probably struggling (as gojo likes to tease), which is worrisome enough. but it also means that he’s stuck in the house with his sister and a lunatic.

and that he’s being stared down now, trying not to viciously glare at gojo (not trying at all actually).

because you’ve lined them up on the couch, and honestly megumi knows you’re scary. he’s seen gojo flail around when he’s doing something he shouldn’t—which is always—trying to escape the inevitable fury that will be aimed at him and his stupid decisions. but megumi doesn’t typically experience it first hand.

and dinner was terrible too, so the boy is honestly just having a bad day.

“speak.” you say, to all three of them. someone has to break sometime.

megumi knows it’s not going to be him, but rather one of his slightly more annoying family members. or gojo.

“if someone doesn’t fess up,” you continue to the three of them—tsumiki is trying not to laugh at the end of the couch because she’s a terrible liar, and an even worse snitch. “then i’m going to make you sleep outside. and i’m not bringing any blankets.”

“in some places that could be deemed as—“ gojo cuts off when you give him a glare.

“now, satoru.”

(megumi is quite enjoying the guilty look on gojo’s face)

“look, okay,” the man starts, hands roaming the air like he’s trying to hypnotize you. “after you left, we hung out for a while, just staring at the wall, and so i suggested that we get up and do something. and then we were playing with the pups, right? and—“

tsumiki is nodding and megumi sighs, leaning back against the couch.

“—they were being a bit rough, like puppies are, and we all got a couple of scratches. and maybe a few bites. nothing major, okay? but i remembered where you put the first aid kit, and patched us all up. battle wounds, you know? so we’re all fine—“

“gojo started messing with the puppies and they were attacking him, and when i intervened he got me scratched too.”

gojo looks over at him, mouth turned completely upside down. “are you serious? we agreed—“

“what did i say about instigating, satoru? and what happened to you, miki? what’s on your face?”

tsumiki smiles. “oh, i just wanted one. they look kinda like stickers.”

you sigh, shaking your head with a hand to your face. “cant even leave the house for a few hours,” you’re mumbling, dropping your hand to roll your eyes and then you look at all of them again.

“okay, to your rooms,” you say, shooing all of them off of the couch. “and no dessert,” you give gojo a pointed look.

he pouts, but megumi is happy to play the victim in this scenario (because he is) and he jumps up off of the couch, turning down the hall to go to his room. tsumiki follows closely behind, trying to flat tire him along the way.

but they can both hear the whispered “what do you mean no dessert?”

a groan, and then “and you’re still sleeping outside—“

“i followed your instructions!”

“those aren’t even real bandaids! they’re the stickers tsumiki got in that coloring book—“

#a typical family #gojo satoru x reader #reader really does have to deal with all of them

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stuffieplaydateinc · 8 months

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"Biting Habits"

🍬 | had a tie on the vote ,, so my friend voted CG!Marshall to cut the tie. + title change! + flag theme colors belong to the Vampire CG flag from @/zack-agere

🍇 | gender neu pronouns used, petnames from Marshall (bats/baby bat(s)), physical touch like lap sitting, hugging and cheek/chin touch, reader doesn't talk (verbal status up to reader)

Promt/Cws: slight confrontation(?) | Marshall has a stern talking with his little about them biting people and gives them things to bite instead

Word count | 712 words

Your hand was held by Marshall's bigger and much colder hand. The kinda cold that'll make you shiver yet not be cold. That was the type of cold that was comforting and harmless I'd think. You two made it down the hallway of his home. the way his silence pierced the silent air gave you an idea that he probably wasn't pleased. Not angry, not disappointed, nothing negative per say. Just an unreadable emotion you knew wasn't negative. You finally arrive to his messy room. Clothes were scattered on the floor, cds and record players hanged on the walls, and his guitar left on his bed. The only thing looking somewhat decent in his room was his made bed. But you didn't complain. You visited this room many times of the week afterall. It was radio silent before Marshall broke the silence with a soft sigh. You felt him let go of your hand before you were picked up. His two hands slipped underneath your armpits as he lifted you up without struggle nor hesitation with his movement. He sat you down on the edge of the bed before he sat next to you. Silence filled the air as if he was expecting you to talk first, but when you didn't he let out another sigh; He lifted his legs up before he sat in a criss cross like position. "(Y/n,).." he began, not meeting your gaze just yet. "I heard what happened at the kingdom today. Gumball said you bit him.. is that true?" He finally met your gaze. His gaze wasn't intimidating but soft and gentle. "..." another wave of silence hit the air. Marshall than began to talk again as his gaze switched to his nails instead. "I left you to be babysat by gumball while I ran errands. I know, you weren't happy about me leaving you without telling you a few days ahead of time, that was my fault. But I had a business to take care of. A job little bats like yourself shouldn't get involved in." he playfully squished your cheek as he said this. In response you let out a squeal mixed with a somewhat giggle from your throat. He chuckled lightly before pulling his hand back. He sighed again before getting a bit serious once more. "But you bit gumball when he tried to put you down for a nap. Baby bats you know better, you can't go around biting people like that.." his face softened, before he continued after a moment pause. "I know, this is coming from me, a vampire who also 'bites people' but remember how I told you, that you can tell me about your feelings?" He tilted his head slightly once you gave a small nod. "Yknow you still can tell me how you're feeling. Gumball is also here to help if you need to talk. He isn't a stranger, bats. He's your babysitter and.. kinda like a second caregiver if you think about it.." he gave it a thought before shrugging. "Still, you shouldn't bite people.." he touched your cheek reasuringly. You knew he was just looking after you. there was no hint of judgement behind those eyes. Marshall turned away before grabbing something from his backpack once he unzipped it. "I knew an incident was going to happen again, so i uh.. got you a few things that I hope might help." He pulled out a few options. A stuffed animal ram with fake stitched on bandaids. It's sol purpose being to help relax your jaw and to chew on it. As well as a chewy, necklace and bracelet and a stress ball. You slowly picked up the stuffie and the necklace. Which Marshall happily helped you get it on, as well as the bracelet. Once you were settled you began to calm down the stressful feelings as you squeezed the stuffie to your chest. Marshall smile as he helped you back into his lap. Giving you a gentle kiss on the head as a sign of comfort before his arms caged around your body in a hug like way.

"Let's see If this ends up working out. If it doesn't, I'll bring you to the store to get one to your liking, yeah?" He smiled.

End!

#agere fic #fandom agere #sfw agere #agere blog #x platonic!reader #dni proship #x platonic #adventure time agere #marshall lee agere #cg Marshall lee #fionna and cake agere #agere reader

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 2 years

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I'm in a very floyd mood so may i ask for a Floyd and Yuu being soft and adorable together, please?

Dumb Dumb Shrimpy

In where Yuu gets gravely injured and Floyd tried to take care of them. Gn as always

“You are so stupid, cleaner shrimp,” Floyd grumbles as he shuffled through a paper bag of sorts. You couldn't even tell through the pounding of your head in your skull.

A simple trip to the mines to investigate a possible way home went to disaster when one of those strange blot monsters came out of nowhere. Pickaxes and axes swung at you and some hit their mark, reducing you to what you were now in the nurse's office bed. Judging by Floyd's reaction to your condition, he was pissed.

You pushed yourself up shakily to look at him. “Sorry…” You mumble quietly under your breath. Floyd’s annoyed expression softens slightly, then huffs. “You're lucky I’m here…” The mer sighs sitting on the edge of your bed as he sifts through the bag. “Eels gotta protect their shrimpys… Shrimpy can't take care of me otherwise…” He drifts off.

It feels strange seeing Floyd so serious, something that shouldn’t be witnessed, yet here you were. The eel pulls out some random supplies, before dumping the contents of the bag on the table next to you. Looking over you see cans of soup, bandaids, bandages, and a bunch of other snacks.

The next thing you know, you feel your bandages getting ripped off. “Floyd! What are you—!” You are silenced with a mix between a scowl and a pout. As the eel rips off the old, bloodied bandages, he pulls out some of the ones he bought. Blue, with little symbols of seaweed and bubbles on them.

After the ghost of a kiss on your wrists, you feel the bandages wrap around you. They were ever so slightly too tight, but you can tell Floyd was trying his absolute best to be gentle while bandaging you quickly. He intertwines your fingers with you and brushes them on his lips for a second before letting go, unceremoniously.

“Dumb little shrimpy. Should have taken me next time.” “You would have gotten hurt too. “Idiots don't get hurt, stupid.” You snort, rolling your eyes at his sassy remarks. A few bandaids are pulled out from the bag, and Floyds even rips off a lid to a soup can, holding it to your lips.

You sputter, before taking a sip as Floyd feeds you a bit, putting the can to the side to resume his nurse duties. “Psst, Shrimpy, what kind do you want? I got a bunch.” You look to see all sorts of colorful bandaids. From taco and skull-shaped ones to glittery and patterned ones as well. “Why not all of them?” You smile as your lover squeals at the idea.

The feel bandaids being pressed to every inch of your body mskes you look down at what the eel is doing. Little stars, rainbow, and neon band-aids were pressed to your skin. “Turn over shrimpy. I have to take care of all of you.”

You whine and nod, turning over and pulling up your shirt ever so slightly. A wad of bandages falls out of Floyd's hands. Your most heavy bandages yet, stained deep red all across your back. Floyd reached out a hand and pulled the bandage down slightly revealing a deep gash from where an axe cut along your back.

Floyd pulled back his hand as if the sight burned him when he heard you let out a hiss. “Shrim— Yuu…” The name was silent on his lips. All the loudness and cheerful bravado from before fell. Rather than continue his decoration, he shoves them into his pockets and sits back with you.

With a kiss to the wound and a kicking off of his shoes, he scoots into the bed with you. The eel must protect the cleaner shrimp.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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pasteloctoz · 1 year

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Hi there! So- @ajfromthestarss and @darlin-collins decided they wanted some angst and gave me the prompt "Darlin has a nightmare‼️ Sam comforts them🔥the nightmare was abt Quinn ‼️" So I wrote it. Fair warning- this is a bit intense, though it's also the first time I've posted angst before. But also, because I felt like this was pretty intense, there's some fluff at the end cause DAMN Darlin needs it. Also, It's 1,749 words so that's something.

Anyways, triggers: flashback to trauma, with mentions of character death and light details of body horror, there's a small panic attack and what I would consider a bit of a dissociative episode after the flashback, though that bit isn't too bad. I also kinda leaned into the canonicity of Darlin having body issues, specifically toward their scars so be aware of that. Like I said this was intense to even write about.

The ghosts of your past

You find yourself curled in bed, comfortable, scrolling on your phone. It was close to midnight and your mate was fast asleep next to you. Despite not needing sleep, he enjoyed it when the two of you would lay in bed together until one of you fell asleep. This time he was the one who fell asleep first.

You turn over onto your back, turning off your phone. Looking up at the ceiling, you thought about everything that had happened recently. Thoughts and feelings mixed in knots that desperately needed to be untied. Though, at that moment, there was no one there to untie those knots. No one to reassure you that everything would be okay. So, you let your mind wander, and before long, you were fast asleep.

When you opened your eyes, you felt for the dip in the bed where your mate layed. He wasn’t there which was to be expected with the way he slept. What was weird was that the dip didn’t even exist anymore. You got up, reaching for your phone on your nightstand, only to grab the air. Confused, you examined the room. It was familiar, you knew that much.

Your heart skipped a beat. You were in the small, unfurnished apartment you shared with him years ago. There was a gentle humming coming from outside the bedroom door. You recognized the humming from anywhere. He was here. Immediately your anger was pressed down by a solemn, calculated feeling. You took a deep breath and thought, “Now’s a better time than any, I guess.”

You opened the door, yawning while pulling up your hair into the signature bun you wore when you were with him. You noticed that your normal orange creme-colored pajamas had been replaced with some very old blue and white pajamas that you never wore anymore. You were nervous upon seeing your ex. Though, you didn’t know why. The last time you saw him you felt a strong deal of hate. You couldn’t recall the last time you had seen him for some reason. You didn’t care as you focused on the conversation.

“Hey, precious,” He smirked as he let a long breath of smoke out, almost like a dragon. The smoke detector was laid out on the kitchen island as he leaned against it. He never bothered to open a window, but he would put in all the effort to take apart a smoke detector… or at least mangle it ‘til it stopped screeching.

He handed you a cigar, to which you declined, “Not today…”

“C’mon precious, it’s just one. I know you don’t like them, but it’ll grow on you. Trust me.”

You ignored his comment, which seemed to get on his nerves. Though, he kept his cool as you spoke to him. You figured you’d pull the bandaid right off, “I- I think we should break up.” A chill went down your spine. It was that night. The night that you truly felt alone after so long.

“No,” you thought, “Not again. I can’t live through this night again. No. I- I have a mate. An actual mate th- that cares about me- Hi- His name is… What was his name?” You couldn’t remember your mate’s name even though it was on the tip of your tongue. You weren’t in control of your actions. You couldn’t tell him to fuck off. You couldn’t go see your friend, you couldn’t protect them. You were helpless to let this play out the way it always did. Whether it was in your head or in real life.

Your vision went black and within a few seconds, you found yourself wandering a dark void, helpless, alone, and scared. Eventually, you came across your friend, unempowered, helpless, and scared. They lay on the floor in front of you, staring into the abyss above you. Quickly, you rush to their side, worried. As you hold them in your arms, you take in the familiarity of their mutilated body. The bite marks, the scratches, even the small burns caused by your ex’s weak magic. You knew this part, you knew they’d still be alive you just had to get them to the hospital. You brushed their bangs out of their eyes, whispering gently to them, “Everything’s going to be okay, I can fix this,” but dropped them quickly when you realized their eyes were lifeless. You backed up quickly before bumping into something.

“Hello, precious,” your ex’s accent startled you as you whipped around, quickly to see nothing.

You heard him behind you again, “How’s your mate doing?” He spoke in the normal, teasing tone he used when he spoke to you last, “And his progeny? Oh, I’d give anything to see Fred now that I’m gone officially. Kind of makes me wish I had taken him the first time I met him.”

“How are you-”

“Nevermind that, I just wanted to let you know that no matter where you are. And no matter where I am, Sam is never safe-”

You wake up in a cold sweat and frantically look to your side. There he was, your mate, sound asleep. Catching your breath, you check the time… 3:34 am. You sigh and carefully make your way out of the room you shared with your mate, careful not to wake him up. You make your way to the bathroom after grabbing your clothing for the day. All of your thoughts and feelings were a jumbled mess.

You felt your heart was still racing as you walked over to the sink. You looked into the mirror, giving yourself a second to breathe. As you took your pajamas off, you examined the scars across your body. Slipping into your new clothes you thought for a moment, “These scars could’ve been avoided, had I not gotten with him.” Immediately you regretted your thought. If it weren’t for your ex, you wouldn’t have met your mate. Your mate that loved you, and cared for you. That didn’t excuse the things he did, and you knew that. You still held the same hate you had for him the moment he attempted to make your life a living hell.

After getting ready for the day, you sat in the kitchen drinking a coffee, thinking to yourself. You tried keeping your mind on other things, but nothing worked. You scanned the room for something to do, eventually, your eyes fell on your mate’s coat that laid across the sofa. Quickly, you finished your cup of coffee before grabbing a monster from the fridge and wrapping yourself in the coat. Instantly, you felt better as you walked out to the front porch and scanned the tree line surrounding the house.

After a while, you hear the gentle voice of your mate, “Darlin’? Did you fall asleep on the porch?”

You yawn, realizing that the sky was now fading into the morning. It was almost dawn, and Sam was out there to wake you up, “... What? Oh, yeah… I guess I did. Sorry ‘bout that.” You got up, remembering that you brought a monster with you outside. The can still felt cold, and you realized that your hands and feet were icy cold as well.

“Don’t apologize, I just seemed to get out of bed at the right time,” He reached out for your hand and was startled to find out how cold it was. “Jesus, Darlin’! How long have you been out here?”

You shrugged, “4:10 just about.”

He looked at you, concerned, “The hell were you doing up at 4:10!?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, why not?” his face softened, though his accent was harsh along with his tone.

You decided it would be best to tell him the truth as the two of you made it into the living room, “I had a nightmare.”

The two of you sat down on the couch as worry crossed his face. It seemed to make sense to him after everything that had happened recently, “... Was it about him?”

You rubbed your arm awkwardly, “Yes.”

Immediately, your mate held your hand in his, tightly. He looked you in the eyes and spoke in a gentle, loving tone, “He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I- I know… I’m just angry, I guess,” you gazed into his silver eyes as a soft smile teased the corners of your mouth. Just being near him would make you feel better about anything. You continued to speak as he looked confused, “I didn’t think that after it was all set and done with that he’d still bother me. I didn’t think he ever had that much of an effect on me.”

“Darlin’... I- Can I give you a hug?” you nodded and he held you as closely as you’d allow him to. He continued speaking to you as he embraced you, “Just because the problem is fixed doesn’t mean that all the… damage he caused you are healed. It takes time and patience to let a wound heal, and he left a pretty big fuckin’ wound. I should know.”

“I thought he would go away finally. I thought that he would stop haunting me. I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened, what I could’ve done, what I could’ve said. I don’t even want to think about him, I just want him to leave me alone.”

“Darlin’, even though you have ghosts in your past, you shouldn’t let those ghosts affect you in the present. What happened has happened. And I don’t know about you but even though there were some hardships, I’m happy the way it turned out. Because now I have you,” He held you tighter and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“Sam… I love you,” you said, finally coming to terms with the fact that you would need time to heal. You knew that every step of the way Sam would be there, to comfort and take care of you.

“I love you too, Darlin’... You wanna know something?” He asked you as you pulled away to look at him.

“What?”

“I think It’s pretty damn cute that you wore my coat to go fall asleep on the porch.”

“I was cold.” You told him, smiling mischievously.

“Really? So that’s why you had your arms wrapped around yourself like you were giving yourself a big hug?” He smiled as he teased you.

“Just let me have this one,” you said as you sat closer to him and cuddled into his chest.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted solaire clan #redacted quinn #redacted angst

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 3 months

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Sad that it’s the end of mermay, always awesome to see what people create (merman Gaz was amazing to read)

Almost pride month though! Have a feeling that 141 would be extremely chaotic (in a good way) at a pride parade

~💫

Well now I feel like giving you my chaotic little pride parade hc:

1- In the words of my beautiful @superhero-landing, John Price is a leather daddy and shows up on one of the floats in full leather gear but with his ass out in assless chaps. He looks delicious. That's it. That's all I've got for the old man.

2- Simon Riley is wearing noise cancelling headphones and the darkest hoodie and jeans despite how hot it is out, but he has a reversible rainbow flag face mask that he can turn over to be fully black whenever he decides he's done with the crowd of people and wants to go home.

3- Kyle Garrick is definitely in the cutest color-coordinated outfit, wearing a crop top and denim shorts AND has both the rainbow flag and the trans flag painted on his cheeks, and has all his piercings showing. He definitely carries a fanny pack with a few things for other people, including hair ties and bandaids, just in case.

4- Johnny MacTavish is in the most ridiculous Hawaiian style shirt (could be flamingos, could be just polka dots, it's one of those short sleeve styles), cargo shorts and combat boots... but his shirt is unbuttoned and he's showing off his entire hairy torso. Has been drinking beer and is wearing a backward baseball cap like some sort of American frat boy... But has definitely has been (consensually) grinding on a tall goth-looking bloke for the past 20 minutes.

I don't make the rules.

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farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Chaos Theory: Chapter List

Main Masterlist ° Butterfly Effect Installments ° AO3

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Series Summary: After finding your way back to Michael and finally finding out who he really is, there is no doubt in your mind that you want to stick around. You care about him and now that the truth is out, you can see him clearly and you know that he needs someone who loves and supports him. You can be that person. You can help him get the happiness he deserves, you think, and perhaps help him get his daughter back, too. You're naive though, and you see it all through heart-shaped glasses - the life Michael is leading is dangerous and you don't know what you've signed up for until it's too late. And you soon realize that falling in love with a Kinsella isn't as easy as you thought it would be.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, established relationship, canon typical violence, graphic descriptions of injury, plot, description of child abuse, Character Death (chapter-specific warnings will be added before every chapter)

A/n: This is the official list of chapters. For those of you who haven’t read it, this is a continuation of my mini-series “Butterfly Effect”. It is not necessary to read because I mention the events that happened during the 7 parts of the mini-series again in this series to go with the plot. Still, it would probably be a good idea to read it and become familiar with their back story. It’s kind of a prequel, if you will. Also, I did add another warning because the plot evolved. I encourage you to read the warnings carefully and stay away if these topics trigger you. That’s all, I think. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE: Secret New Beginnings

CHAPTER TWO: I Know You Feel Like A Piece Of You’s Dead Inside

CHAPTER THREE: I’ll Show You Every Version Of Myself Tonight

CHAPTER FOUR: You See Right Through Me

CHAPTER FIVE: Designed To Deceive

CHAPTER SIX: My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

CHAPTER SEVEN: I Hope I Never Lose You

CHAPTER EIGHT: Let Us Hold Each Other

CHAPTER NINE: I Want You

CHAPTER TEN: I'll Look After You

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Not The Same As It Was

CHAPTER TWELVE: Just Let Me Adore You

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: He Looks Up Grinning Like A Devil

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: We'll Be A Fine Line

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Stop, You’re Losing Me

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Come Back To Me

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Crisp Trepidation

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Maybe I Don’t Quite Know What To Say

CHAPTER NINETEEN: My Castle’s Crumbling Down

CHAPTER TWENTY: You Showed Me Colors You Know I Can’t See With Anyone Else

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Look At This Godforsaken Mess That You Made Me?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: I Stay When You’re Lost, And I’m Scared, And You’re Turning Away

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Bandaids Don’t Fix Bulletholes

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Wondering If I Just Lost The Love Of My Life

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Seven Devils All Around

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: A Greater Woman Wouldn't Beg

if you want to be tagged, just let me know! tag list is always open!

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #kin amc #charlie cox #chaos theory #x reader #reader insert #no y/n #butterfly effect

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ccaptain · 4 months

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While H:SR Kaeya's ways of having fun may look silly, and sometimes his joyous reactions may take people by surprise, there's unfortunately a sad truth that was already pointed out that explains it:

Becoming an active part of the Enigmata ''beings'' isn't always an happy experience- if at all.

Most of Kaeya's time is spent in a deeply melancholic contemplation of his mission and his destiny. There are many enemies that refuse to see his point of view and that have tried to chase or harm him, deaf to his explanations, and surely he's fated to make many more along the road. When observed closely, there's this distant expression on his face and too many thoughts in his head, and too many boulders on his shoulders.

When there's a way to feel even a slighty spark of happiness, he'll take and indulge into it until he has to go.

Be it a silly moment shared with a friend over a jiggly pudding, or a night out with drinks and chatting while the sun rises outside of a tavern. He has learned that a night of singing his heart out at a karaoke with strangers and friends alike is just as soothing as a good night of sleep, too. He likes to bake, and is quite apt at it as long as it's not a multilayered, complicated cake, and it excites him to try how good he can do each time. He has taken up cooking too, and is passable in some dishes. He'll seize the occasion of a long travel and take pictures with his phone to show Siobhan when he's back home, or to send them to his friends. He can mix drinks quite well, and will show that talent off to anyone, if allowed to. He finds the warmth of a bonfire warding away the cold of the night enthrancing, and will watch as the embers die out and he's plunged back into darkness. He had many occasions to dance in heavy rain, content with how fresh the droplets felt on his skin and not minding being soaked after. He watches an hurricane devastate everything in his path, coming for him with the wind whipping his hair across his face, and was awestruck at the strenght of nature.

He has seen the northern lights, and was so mesmerized by them that, for a long moment, he forgot the heaviness he carries with him.

His room, a space in the middle of nowhere, is impersonal in the decorations. His sheets are of a anonymous light blue, his closet of an anonymous brown, and his furniture is spartan and lacking. And then, there are the trinkets.

Plenty of them. Laid on every high surface he could find, on every empty shelf, on the nightstand, on the windowshill with the curtains drawn back. Little shimmering crystals, small animals with fake gemstones for eyes, funny-looking rocks, some bandaids never unwrapped but clearly given to him, coins from other planets, the littlest toy guns known to man, including colorful waterguns, soft toys to squeeze to keep the stress at bay. Rusted-over, old toy cars, clean cups, small glasses that glimmer in a sun that will never rise in the space where Kaeya's room is. All of those and more are displayed for himself to see each time he wishes to, from new and old friends he made along the way that are no longer alive.

He has a diffuser with a pleasing scent of jasmine and sandal going at all times. He has acquired a projector that shines a pre-made set of patterns that glow and move in the dark and that he could stare at for hours, laying on his bed in company or alone, feeling absolute calmness.

Kaeya's friends probably don't know how vital and necessary they are for him: in a way, they keep him sane. When they laugh with him, they make him think that the burden he has is worth carrying, if it means that they cross paths, ever once in a blue moon, and can share a moment of company or even travel together, off to adventures and places to see and explore.

Even if a person he's close to will, one day, turn against him, Kaeya will still bear no grudge and cherish the memories of their happy moments, and the camaraderie they shared before things turned for the worst.

#from another realm ━ (ooc)#riddle me this; is everything that you remember real and nothing but the pure truth? ━ (H:SR V.)#me: i am fine about this :) (has been crying trying to write this for the past 30 mins)

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vxiphoid · 1 year

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៚ BREAK ALL RULES !!⟢

❨ skateboarding with ruggie ❩ omg an actual fic😧😧!!! oh look its those two best friends that clearly have feelings for each other but wont admit it… KISS ALREADY. i need to start writing for more characters, i love savanaclaw too much😞 ooc ruggie (just to be sure), mentions of injuries, cursing, extremely bad explaining for skateboard tricks goodbye, not proof read, other than that tooth rotting fluff<3

⌜ 1k+ words⌟

♫ take me to the sun - d4vd & who - 웨터 (wetter)

“OH FUCK—“

“ruggie!? ruggie, are you okay?!” the camera immediately dropped as you slid down the ramp to assist your friend, landing in this crooked position with both of you somehow in the frame. ruggie was curled up on the pavement when you knelt down beside him, worry splashed on your face. it wasn't until you were kneeling by him did the faux hurt disappear from his face.

“i think i fell for you.”

then he shot you a cheeky little wink. you stared blankly at the man sprawled in front of you. ruggie had to purse his lips to stop himself from laughing, your expression was priceless. you looked like you'd just been scolded for some sort of transgression—y’know, before you finally realized he was teasing you, which prompted to you start attacking him with everything you could muster. “you absolute asshole! i thought you actually hurt yourself!”

ruggie, on the other hand, balled himself up and protected his head with his arms as he cackled. “ow, fuck— don’t hit me, i’m already injured!” he wheezed between chuckles. your punches got lighter and lighter till they were nothing but little pats on his shoulder and ribs as his contagious laughter effected you. and eventually the two of you collapsed into hysterical giggles, covered in dirt and scratches but happy none the less.

“you done watching that video? it’s your turn, you know!”

ruggie’s voice snapped you back to reality, the video playing from your phone quickly forgotten as quick as it stole your attention. it was supposed to be a simple video of ruggie doing an ollie since he was so adamant about actually having it down this time yet… he turned it into a corny pick up line after brutally falling on his face. you’re totally posting this on magicam.

you placed your phone down besides you, sliding down the small ramp for the umpteenth time tonight. “yeah, yeah, im coming!” ruggie chose the perfect night to practice skateboarding for the moon was at its fullest and the stars were all out, lighting the whole area with twinkling luminescence. it really made things look ethereal, especially in contrast with the street lamps nearby.

ruggie had found this skateboard a month back and there was this run down skatepark near the school so you both decided, hey, why not give some tricks a try. all the bruises and cuts definitely made your teachers and some students concerned but at least you were improving every now and again. it didn’t take long for ruggie to get the hang of it, at least sort of. there was this one trick you saw online that completely peaked your interest and in attempt of trying it, you ended up with a bloody nose. nothing was going to stop you from mastering this trick though, and if that meant getting bruised up more then so be it.

ruggie was squinting at his hand as you approached him, “i think i did actually cut my thumb when i fell, though.”

you rocked back and forth with your hands deep in your (rather, his) puffy jacket like the biggest shit you could be. “unfortunately for you, were all out of hello kitty bandaids.” he snorted at your words, turning around to face you properly. small scratches littered his face along with brightly colored bandages in different shapes and his smile wasnt as bright as his ocean blue eyes. he nudges the board towards your feet, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater before offering his hand. “ready?”

ruggie didnt miss how careful you were taking his hand and the slight squeeze you added when you stepped onto the board. your other hand flew to steady yourself as you put your other foot on the board. you glanced up to see him biting his bottom lip as his eyes trained on your shoes for any sign of unsteadiness or discomfort—like you might topple over if he weren’t looking. his concern brought a faint warmth to your heart as his gaze flickered to meet you, he was being so gentle with you. his hand loosened slightly on yours but you held on tight enough so he couldn’t pull away. “you good?” he asked with furrowed brows as his gaze lingered on your face. “don’t want you fallin’ off—“

“no.” you interrupted, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “i’m ready.”

for extra measurements as ruggie let go of your hand, his fingertips hovered over yours to make sure you weren’t going to fall, his hands quickly missing the warmth.

you started off slowly, gliding across the ground gently. ruggie followed suit closely behind, watching carefully to ensure no accidents happen. the wind blew past your faces, tickling your cheeks as you gradually picked up speed. he watched you smile to yourself, the glint of pride in your eyes.

it was only after you’d kicked off the ramp did he feel it—the familiar tug of your magic. the wind was working with you, your legs lifting off of the floor as you went higher. your back foot going under the board and flipping it back around, letting out a whoop that ruggie was sure he hadn’t heard from you before. his mouth opened wider than ever at your display—the wind was pushing you faster than he’d seen you move before. you seemed to glide across the concrete, never once breaking your stride. though when you landed, albeit a little off balanced, your eyes lit up like you had one the biggest teddy bear from a rigged claw machine. your face was glowing too, almost glowing like it could reflect your joy. your giggle rang through the chilly night air like music to his ears, and as soon as the feeling passed he felt it return tenfold. you were so fucking adorable. “did you see that?!”

ruggie braced himself for impact as you ran towards him with your arms outstretched, jumping and tackling him to the ground in one swift motion. the momentum caused the both of you to tumble onto your backs, your bodies pressed together tightly. his breath knocked from his lungs yet nothing stopped him from laughing along with you.

he pushes you away, scanning your face. “you’re okay, right? no scratches?” he reached up to cup one side of your face, gently wiping away a tear from your eye that rolled down to your nose. you were such an emotional little thing, it was absolutely endearing and god, he loved seeing you like this.

“of course i am! who cares?” you exclaim, knowing by heart that ruggie would catch you if you lost control of the skateboard mid-air. he always did.

your noses were brushing up against each other as you spoke, his eyes flicking down for a moment before darting back up. your lips were inches apart and if his heart was beating loud enough for the both of you to hear, it surely must have been so damn loud, you couldn’t miss the flutter of his breath against your face.

“i do.”

and maybe it was his tone, maybe it was the way he was staring at you in that way he was—so intent and full of emotion. you swallowed the lump in your throat; maybe it had something to do with the way he was gripping both sides of your face. maybe it was the warmness of his hands on either side of yours—you didn’t know and you didn’t particularly care. the urge to press your lips against his became too strong.

but he did. he leaned closer and closed his eyes, and suddenly you could hear the loud beating of your hearts, deafening even, as his lips brushed against yours for mere millimeters, yet your entire body froze in place. his touch was light at first, a feather light kiss that sent shivers down your spine. but before you knew it you had threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss in hopes of convincing yourself that you weren’t dreaming. you weren’t. it felt just as amazing as you dreamed of, warm and comforting as you melted into his embrace while pressing deeper into the kiss with passion.

ruggie pulled back with a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against yours in awe. a grin stretched across his face, his eyes still closed and a dazed look plastered across his features. he could see why everyone always said that love makes fools of us all, because he was absolutely sure he looked like a total buffoon.

back to twst masterlist

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