#i tried to put a lot of colors in her shadows

[thewisestdino]

✨ Princess Tiffany ✨

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 | 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

summary: nobody can keep up with your growing list of hobbies, except fernando.

pairing: fernando alonso x brazilian!fem!reader

content warning: fluff and humor. explicit language.

from, serene: requested by and written for @loomiscorpse 🤍 i promised that i would write this for you in july and i finally found the time to fulfill it! this is how i learned fernando has a back tat. what rock have i been living under? happy reading, babes xxx

(in case i'm m.i.a., there's a category 5 hurricane that's looks pretty serious. i'm probably going to have a power outage. prayers to anyone else in the path of the storm, evacuate if you're on the west coast, and stay safe.)

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; sip and paint with the ladies 👩🏽‍🎨🎨 carmenmmundt kellypiquet][caption2; for my first painting, this is good right?]

alexandrasaintmleux: i'll put it in a gallery 🤩 alexandrasaintmleux: i can't believe i'm friends with the best artist of our time 😌 yourinstagram: alex pleaseee omg 😳🤭 yourinstagram: you realize that means you think i'm better than claude monet right ? alexandrasaintmleux: ,,,second best artist of our time yourinstagram: 😆😆😆

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful 😍 yourinstagram: you really think so??? fernandoalo_official: yes i like what you did with the colors and brush strokes of course yourinstagram: what detailed compliments meu bem 😂

carmenmmundt: i still don't believe that you've never painted before 🤨 carmenmmundt: you did so well !!!!!! yourinstagram: thank you my love 🥰 yourinstagram: i think i am going to keep painting. it was very fun! carmenmmundt: you should! you're quite good at it :)

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by heidiberger_, fernandoalo_official, francisca.cgomes and 101,723 others

yourinstagram encontro noturno em cores 🖼️

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user1: ptbr to eng translation "date night in color 🖼️"

user2: wow!!! you improved so much already! have you been taking lessons?

➥ yourinstagram: thank you! the only lessons i'm learning are from youtube haha ➥ yourinstagram: and i have painted every day since i started! ➥ user3: you definitely have a natural talent for this! and a lot of potential!!! ➥ user4: it's taken me years to develop a minimal understanding of color theory and shadows. she's done it in two weeks 😕

user5: i know leonardo hates that he didn't paint this 😩😩😩

➥ user6: he's rolling in his grave for sureeee 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user7: bitch why tf would a ninja turtle be mad about this ☠️ ➥ user8: leonardo DA VINCI YOU UNEDUCATED CUR ➥ user7: my fault forgot the turtle wasn't the only person named leo 🫣🫠 ➥ user8: HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE MONA LISA ⁉️⁉️⁉️

pepemartiofficial: i loved doing art in school! i can teach you a few things if you want 😁😁😁

➥ yourinstagram: you mean primary school? which was like last year for you? i think i'll pass garoto 🥴 ➥ fernandoalo_official: josep maria marti sobrepepa don't piss me off. ➥ fernandoalo_official: test me and you can say goodbye to a formula one seat. ➥ user9: ain't no way pepe just tried to step to fernando's girl who's TEN !!! years older than him ➥ pepemartiofficial: shhh i can be mature for her 🤤 ➥ fernandoalo_official: count your days 🥱

carlossainz55: the painting is really good, you made the water look so realistic!

➥ yourinstagram: obrigada carlitos! ➥ carlossainz55: where's fernando's painting 😈 ➥ yourinstagram: it was very good! but he did not want me to post a photo of it :((( ➥ fernandoalo_official: it was very ugly carlos 🙄 ➥ yourinstagram: it was not that bad i just could not tell that it was supposed to be a tiger and not a house cat that was struck by lightning 😅 ➥ carlossainz55: i will pay to see this painting 🤣🤣🤣

twitter

igstory • astonmartinf1 just uploaded!

[caption1; admin was just forcibly handed bear coasters ??? she said they remind her of lance 🐻][caption2; the crochet culprit is on to her next project!]

user: lance bear agenda still going strong 💪

lance_stroll: i want bear coasters 😞 astonmartinf1: meet me downstairs, she gave me extras to hand out to the team lance_stroll: she's the best 🤩🤩🤩 lance_stroll: see you in 5?

user: DUDE she's onto clothes already??? how?!!!

user: admin i need you to send me photos of that sketchbook 👺🤲🏻 user: i need her patterns admin i'm not playing around astonmartinf1: lol get blocked loser 💀

instagram • fernandoalo_official

liked by carlossainz55, lance_stroll, yourinstagram and 234,586 others

fernandoalo_official there is yarn and hooks in my car. this has gone too far.

view comments

yourinstagram: you make a man a shirt with the materials HE bought for you and it's a problem. ungrateful behavior nano 😤

➥ fernandoalo_official: the shirt is very nice i even posed for a picture. all i ask is for no hooks to be left in the cupholders? ➥ yourinstagram: can we compromise and i leave them in the glove box 🥺

user10: let me get this straight: you crochet for a month and suddenly you become a fashion designer?

➥ yourinstagram: not a month, three weeks* i have been crocheting ➥ user11: oh fuck off- how are you good at everything 😩😩😩 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not! and i still cannot make a granny square no matter how hard i try to ☹️ ➥ user12: you don't need to know how to make a granny square when you can make actual pieces of clothing!!!

landonorris: may i have something crocheted too?

➥ yourinstagram: what would you like landinho 😊 ➥ landonorris: may i have a beanie? or a sweater?? ➥ georgerussell: ooooh i'd like a beanie too! ➥ francisca.cgomes: i want that top you're wearing! or something similar!!!! ➥ lance_stroll: what about earmuffs? ➥ lilymhe: a cardigan would be so nice ➥ charlesleclerc: i want a sweater!!! ➥ fernandoalo_official: leave her alone you greedy children 👹 ➥ yourinstagram: ignore him! text me what you all want with inspiration photos and i will let you know!!!

messages • sebastian -> fernando

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; hobby update >>>][caption2; to the woman at the craft store who put me onto oil paints...you saved my life][caption3; the wag crochet requests are almost finished!][caption4; first pottery class! had a really fun time :)]

user: i-i need to sit down👄 user: how do you even have time to do all of this?

user: i feel like i've never taken my hobbies seriously after seeing this

user: ffs how long have you been doing pottery? user: it's hard to learn at first but it's worth it if you stay committed 🫶🏽

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc, lilymhe, francolapinto, and 192,037 others

yourinstagram que divertido! thrown, painted, and fired by me 🌸

view comments

user13: this is a reminder that there's always somebody out there doing what you love better than you 😒

➥ user14: wasn't she JUST at her first pottery class? and she already has a set of dishware 😨

user15: i feel like i have to apologize for even attempting pottery

user16: i would hate to give my gift after her on birthdays and christmas 😬😬😬

➥ user17: valid take. she can make custom clothes, paintings, and ceramics??? i might as well not even show up 🤦🏻‍♀️

kellypiquet: where do you even find the time to do this?

➥ yourinstagram: i have not slept for more than five hours in a very long time. it also distracts me when nano is away so, i keep myself busy. ➥ kellypiquet: please take better care of yourself! the clay will be there after you sleep and i'm sure fernando would like you to sleep too. ➥ fernandoalo_official: 8 hours at least mi amor ❤️ ➥ yourinstagram: fiiiiine 😞

lance_stroll: bring the domino set next time! i want to learn how to play!!!

➥ yourinstagram: i will make you cry if we play dominoes 🤫

user18: you need to start an etsy shop or smth? i think anybody would buy something from you!

➥ yourinstagram: if i do that, i'm afraid it would stop being a hobby and become a job. i don't want to lose the love i have for them :) user19: you could do limited releases? or just list a few items at a time? yourinstagram: i guess that's true. i don't think i will though, i didn't start my hobbies to make money. it's just fun for me 😁

twitter

igstory • fernandoalo_official just uploaded!

[caption; onto the next obsession]

user: damn you didn't lie about the entire botantical collection 😧 user: she's crazy user: i respect her grind though

user: and she made them look like actual boquets 😍 user: why didn't i think of that???

yourinstagram: they are not obsessions. yourinstagram: the proper term is hobby, we have talked about this nano 😒 fernandoalo_official: do you want the vespa or the bonsai…🤨 yourinstagram: both por favor! and get the porsche 911 kit while you are there 😚😚😚😚😚😚

user: she crocheted her own cover up dress user: i love women 🙂‍↕️

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by fernandoalo_official, kellypiquet, landonorris, and 317,940 others

yourinstagram um hobby? ok. quatro hobbies ao mesmo tempo? não repita meus erros 🤕

view comments

user20: ptbr to eng translation "one hobby? ok. four hobbies at the same time/once? do not repeat my mistakes 🤕"

➥ user21: thank u translator woman ➥ user22: thank u translator woman ➥ gabrielbortoleto_: thank u translator woman ➥ user24: one of these things is not like the others 🧐

landonorris: can't wait till it gets chilly in monaco 😌

➥ landonorris: the only thing i'm going to be photographed in is my crochet beanie and sweater ➥oscarpiastri: i'm surprised you're not wearing it now since you're perpetually cold ➥ landonorris: i didn't want to bring it in my luggage in case it's the time i lose my luggage 🤓 ➥ oscarpiastri: wow…that's smart ➥ landonorris: why do you sound so surprised 🤨

lilymhe: i see you learned how to make granny squares 😆

➥ yourinstagram: it took me three whole days to make one 🤧 ➥ lilymhe: damn 💀 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not lying when i say making that first granny square was harder than making your cardigan 😮‍💨

fernandoalo_official: is it weird if i feel proud of you?

➥ yourinstagram: i think it is something to be proud of :) ➥ fernandoalo_official: well i am very proud of you mi amor 😘 ➥ yourinstagram: 🥰😚😚❤️❤️❤️

user25: those paintings!!!! woah, you're like a serious artist now 😨😳😱

➥ user26: fr! you can see her own unique style clearly in these! ➥ yourinstagram: you all are too sweet! it took me a while to switch from reference painting into creating my own art pieces! ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i wasn't joking when i said i want to put your work in a gallery 🤭🥱 ➥ yourinstagram: alex pleaseee 😖

user28: what are you going to do next? book binding LMAO

➥ yourinstagram: you are right! nano is out buying the supplies for me now 😁 ➥ user28: i was joking 😟 ➥ yourinstagram: and after that i think i am going to learn how to make a cute scrapbook!

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos used are from pinterest.

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

summary: you're the honorary bayern munich teammate.

the excitement fills your veins as you land in lisbon. 

you’re finally here, and it’s hard to believe. lena doesn't even know yet—you wanted to surprise her, to be there in person for the match of her life. it’s been a long journey from buying the ticket, keeping it quiet, and making your way to portugal, but every step felt worth it because nothing, absolutely nothing, would have kept you from being here to support lena in the champions league final.

hours later, you’re waiting anxiously in your hotel room when a knock finally comes. you open the door to find lena, looking tired but smiling, and her face lights up as she sees you.

"you made it," she says, stepping forward to hug you tightly. she lets out a deep breath, and you feel some of the tension melt from her shoulders.

"of course i did," you say, hugging her back, brushing a hand over her back. 

"how could i miss this? tomorrow’s the match of your life. are you nervous?"

she pulls back slightly, her smile fading as she flops onto the bed beside you. 

"yeah… a little," she admits, looking away. 

"it’s more than that, though. i keep thinking about the final in 2023… it’s like this shadow hanging over everything. it won’t go away." her voice goes quieter, and you see just how much she’s carrying from that day that you’re unfamiliar with.

you sit beside her, reaching out to take her hand. 

"do you want to talk about it? what happened in 2023?"

she nods, her gaze fixed on a spot across the room. 

"it was against barcelona, with wolfsburg. we were up 2-0, and then everything just… fell apart. they scored three goals in, like, eight minutes. i felt so helpless. all those months of training, just to lose like that. sometimes it feels like i haven’t shaken it off."

you squeeze her hand gently. 

"i can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been. losing on that stage, with everyone watching… it’s okay that it still hurts. a lot of people would feel the same. i also know that you’re stronger now."

she looks over at you, a small smile finally breaking through before giving you a light kiss. 

"thanks. i don’t know… i’ve tried to push it out of my head, but tomorrow feels like a chance to finally put it behind me. i want to prove to myself that i’m not that same person who let it slip away." she whispers against you.

you run your thumb across her knuckles, trying to pour all your reassurance into that small touch. 

"and you’re not. you’re here, stronger and smarter, and you’ve learned so much. but whatever happens tomorrow, you’re still amazing. i’m just so proud of you."

a soft blush colors her cheeks as she squeezes your hand back, her gaze meeting yours as her forehead rests against yours. 

"thank you. it really helps, having you here. more than you know."

after a while, she heads back to her hotel room for a good night's sleep, leaving you with a warm, happy feeling that stays with you until morning. 

it’s surreal, thinking back to a year ago when this whole thing started with a wrong number. now you’re here, in lisbon, to watch the woman you love play in one of the biggest games of her life.

the next day, you find yasmeen at the stadium entrance, her face lighting up when she spots you. she flew in from america just to keep you company, and you feel a rush of gratitude as you hug her.

"ready for the match of your life?" she grins, eyes sparkling.

"more ready than i’ve ever been," you laugh, feeling your own excitement build up. you’re both practically vibrating as you take your seats, and when the game kicks off, it’s all you can focus on. 

seeing lena on the bench doesn’t dim your excitement—she’ll get her moment, and you know it.

the game starts off tense. city’s vivianne scores in the 20th minute, and the bayern fans around you groan. you try to keep your spirits up, leaning forward and clapping.

"come on, girls!" you shout in german, even though your voice is quickly swallowed by the roar of the crowd.

yasmeen chuckles beside you, giving you a supportive pat. 

"you’re so into it already."

you grin. 

"it’s impossible not to be. they’re incredible."

just before halftime, bayern’s perseverance pays off. in the 45th minute, klara sets up a perfect cross, and pernille rises up to head it in, tying the score. 

you leap out of your seat, clapping wildly as yasmeen cheers beside you.

"yes! let’s go, harder!" you yell, grinning from ear to ear.

at halftime, a fan behind you taps your shoulder and asks for a photo. she’s wearing a lena jersey, and you assume she just wants a picture with "lena’s girlfriend." 

you’re hesitant but smile and take the photo with her. when yasmeen teases you, you roll your eyes and laugh it off, though you can’t deny you’re a little flattered.

"look at you, getting famous," yasmeen nudges you. 

"you’re practically the team’s mascot at this point."

"shut up," you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm. 

"all i am is lena’s slightly anxious but very supportive girlfriend."

the second half starts off rough. city’s bunny shaw scores twice in under nine minutes, and the atmosphere in the bayern section gets tense. you bite your lip, glancing at yasmeen for reassurance as the clock ticks on.

bayern doesn’t let up. lea schüller scores in the 55th minute just one minute after shaw scored city’s third goal, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. 

one more goal, and they’ll be even again. you clap, your hands sore but determined, and yell encouragement, hoping somehow the team can hear you all the way on the bench.

then, in the 68th minute, pernille gets her second goal, equalizing. the stadium erupts, and you jump out of your seat, pulling yasmeen into a hug. 

this match has you on the edge of your seat, your heart racing with every pass, every tackle.

a commotion catches your attention near the right side of the pitch, and you see sydney in a heated exchange with alex greenwood. sydney is keeping the ball away from greenwood as the ref tries to intervene. you can’t help but chuckle as yasmeen leans over. 

"what’s going on with them?"

"just sydney being sydney," you say, grinning. 

"kidding. i’m not sure, maybe sydney just wants to give her team a breather.” 

minutes later, in the 79th minute, lena stands at the sideline, preparing to sub in. your heart skips a beat as you slip off your light blue button-up longsleeve to reveal your oberdorf jersey underneath. yasmeen catches sight of it and snickers.

"i wonder if she’ll get a yellow card within the first five minutes."

"probably," you mutter with the pride in your voice. you’re just thrilled to see her out there, part of the game she’s worked so hard to return to.

she’s barely on the pitch when, in the 81st minute, she makes a classic side tackle on mary fowler, and you and yasmeen exchange a look. 

lena gets a warning, but she’s unfazed, her focus sharp.

the clock’s ticking, and tension fills the air. then, in the 88th minute, lena sets up an assist to sydney, who powers the ball into the net, bringing the score to 3-3. 

you jump up, screaming as loud as you can, caught up in the joy of the moment.

at this point, your mind starts to wander, reflecting on how far you’ve come. a year ago, you were just a student in virginia, living a quiet life. now, you’re in lisbon, watching the woman you love play in a champions league final, surrounded by friends and fans. it feels surreal.

yasmeen nudges you, drawing you back to the game. 

"imagine if lena scores the winning goal."

"i hope," you murmur, watching her with bated breath as she passes the ball to tuva, who then lightly passes it to ana. 

ana crosses up to klara, who leaps up for a perfect header. the ball sails into the net, and the stadium explodes in cheers. the scoreboard lights up,

4-3.

klara runs to the corner, celebrating, and you watch in awe as the team surrounds her. then she turns and sends a heart your way, her hands forming the shape in the air. you send one back, beaming as yasmeen chuckles beside you.

the final whistle blows, and it’s like the whole stadium erupts at once. the scoreboard is locked at 4-3, with bayern’s victory glowing bright, but it’s hard to believe until you see the girls flood the pitch, their faces breaking into elated, disbelieving smiles. 

yasmeen nudges you, and you turn to see her beaming.

“they really did it,” she says, a little in awe herself. 

“and they really love you, huh?” you laugh, heart swelling as you watch the team embrace, overcome by what they've achieved.

“guess i just got lucky,” you murmur, and you mean it.

after the immediate celebration dies down a bit, the trophy ceremony begins, the crowd cheering louder as each player receives their medal, eyes glistening with the weight of the win. confetti rains down, golden and shimmering in the stadium lights, and you feel a lump in your throat. they’ve worked so hard for this.

suddenly, you hear a voice calling your name. you turn to see sydney and tuva waving, beckoning you over. before you can process it, they’re running up, reaching over the barricade to pull you across it.

“you’re coming with us,” sydney insists, her grip firm, and tuva laughs, nodding in agreement. they drag you toward the heart of the celebration, and you glance back at yasmeen, who waves you off with a smile.

“go have fun!” she calls, and you smile back gratefully.

you barely have a second to catch your breath before you spot lena jogging toward you, her face flushed with happiness, eyes bright under the stadium lights. she wraps you in her arms, lifting you slightly, and you cling to her, laughing as she swings you back and forth.

“we did it,” she breathes, her voice full of amazement.

“you did it,” you correct, pulling back just enough to look at her. her eyes search yours, and you can see that same mixture of pride and disbelief.

“i still can’t believe it,” she whispers, her hands resting on your shoulders. 

“it feels… surreal.”

you smile, brushing a strand of confetti from her hair. 

“it’s real. and you deserve every bit of it, obi!”

lena smiles, a little teary-eyed, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingering there as if she wants to soak up the moment. 

“thank you for being here,” she says quietly, and you can hear the depth of her gratitude, her voice soft and genuine.

“i wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” you whisper back, feeling your own emotions rise.

nearby, klara is holding the trophy, posing for pictures, her grin as wide as you’ve ever seen. when she spots you, she waves you over, gesturing for you to come closer. you hesitate, feeling a rush of self-consciousness. 

you’re not a player, after all—you didn’t sweat and fight for this trophy like they did.

“come on!” klara calls, laughing at your reluctance. 

“get in here!”

you make your way over, feeling a bit out of place, and she hands you the trophy, the massive silver and blue prize weighing heavy in your hands. 

the moment feels surreal, and you look at klara, a little overwhelmed.

“are you sure?” you ask, voice soft.

she grins. 

“absolutely. you’re part of this team, too, you know.”

lena’s hand slips into the side of your waist as she steps closer, nodding with a warm smile. 

“she’s right, you know,” lena says, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“you’re like our honorary teammate.”

you smile, heart racing, and glance around at the team gathered around you. it’s a strange feeling—this sense of belonging among these women who have worked and sacrificed so much. 

they’re looking at you with genuine affection, the bond you’ve built with them over time stronger than you’d ever realized.

“alright,” you say, laughing, feeling a bit more relaxed as they crowd in around you. 

“but only because you all insisted.”

they cheer, pulling you into the picture, arms wrapped around one another, laughing and shouting in excitement as the photographer snaps photo after photo. you can feel the joy radiating from each of them, the weight of this accomplishment shared and celebrated together. 

when klara makes a heart with her hands, aiming it at you, your chest tightens with warmth.

yasmeen, watching from the stands, raises her thumbs up and laughs, mouthing “so popular!” and you give her a teasing eye-roll, smiling at her playfully.

finally, as the photos wrap up and the team disperses to greet more of their friends and family, lena pulls you aside to meet her parents, holding you close as you both take in the night. 

the lights of the stadium are soft now, the crowd gradually fading, and it’s just you two talking to her family, standing side by side in the quiet after the storm of victory.

“i’m so proud of you,” you say to lena after her family leaves the stadium, voice thick with emotion. 

“watching you play, seeing you out there after everything you’ve been through… it’s incredible.”

lena’s eyes soften, her fingers tracing the outline of your hand. 

“i couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmurs.

“you’ve been here every step, even when i was sidelined and frustrated. you kept me going.”

you smile, your heart swelling with pride and love. 

“that’s what teammates are for, right?”

she laughs softly, her gaze tender. 

“then it’s settled,” she says, her smile widening. 

“you are officially our honorary bayern teammate.”

the words echo in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you know that this night, this moment, will stay with you forever.

masterlist

authors note: I hope you enjoyed this six parts series :) I started it 10/1 and finished this part last night before a halloween party I had to attend lol

[rose-pearls]

Maybe a Clarisse x reader. Where R is daughter of Nemesis? Normally being very quiet and "calm", and, as she is the daughter of the Goddess of Revenge, she helps to take revenge on those who hurt Clarisse, even in games of capture the flag, in a discreet way and they almost never find out it was her. In addition to being extremely good at chess and strategies as well. (English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake)

Hi! Thank you for your request! I had a bit of a writer block but I hope you like it!!! (Requests are open)

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse La Rue Taglist: @peanutbelley (open)

Clarisse knew everyone as camp, but there was one person that she didn’t knew as well, she was a kind of mystery that you couldn’t really understand. You had been claimed by Nemesis, a goddess who was known for revenge and strategy. It had made most campers wary of you, expect for the Hermes cabin, who had welcomed you in their cabin to stay. 

She had only heard of you in passing, people complaining of how you had beaten them for the hundredth time at chess and now as she watches you beating Annabeth at chess she can’t help but want to know more about you. Apart from chess she hadn’t heard a lot about you, you were someone quiet, who liked to stay in your corner, so she didn’t pay you any mind, not thinking that you could be something that interesting. But she would be lying if she said she had never sneaked glances at you., admiring you from afar.

Clarisse knew that she wasn’t the most liked person at camp Half-blood, that title would probably be held by Luke, but she still couldn’t help but be surprised when people tried to get to her. The Hephaestus kids were the ones that brought anger to the Ares kids, just like their fathers their children couldn’t get along. But it was weird when her spear suddenly reappeared after she searched everywhere for it, it had been laying on her bed, as if she had just put it there herself. The only indication that it was the Hephaestus kids were the twin marks on their arms, a small broken circle that reminded her of the broken wheel that had appeared above your head. 

She hadn’t thought about it further, only thought that they had realized how stupid they were and decided to bring it back. But as she saw a perfect ambush by the blue team getting completely destroyed by some simple smoke and something that she couldn’t pinpoint she knew that this was something bigger. She knew that the blue team had worked hard and long on this ambush, trying to get her alone to weaken her and try to get the flag that way. Just as she had been getting ready to fight back, surrounded by people of the blue team, they all saw a dark smoke coming their way and suddenly they were all on the ground holding their Achilles heel in pain, while she stood there unaffected. 

The only thing she saw was a shadow moving, and the smoke following it, so after a second, she left her helmet there and followed the shadow. It took a couple of minutes of following the mysterious person before she found you in the clearing. You looked beautiful in that armor, perhaps if the color on your armor had been red it would’ve been even better.

“Why are you doing this?”, she knows it’s rude to just ask you what you are doing, but she isn’t one to talk in circles, she needs an answer. You look at her with curious eyes and she tries not to fall for them.

“What do you mean?”, she knows that you know, but that you want her to tell you what she means.

“Why are you protecting me?”, it’s difficult to say it, she never had someone really protecting her so she quickly believed she should protect herself and not count on others to do it.

“Because they wanted to hurt you and that wasn’t fair to do without you knowing what was happening and risking getting hurt,” she was speechless, for the first time in a long time. If she was honest with herself and with you, she would tell you that she probably deserves to get attacked or getting something taken from her with the way she treats people, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she admires your features, trying to understand why you would choose to protect her of all people.

“Why me?”, this time it slips right of her tongue, without her being able to hold it back.

“Why not? Everyone needs someone on their side. I just think you deserve to have someone on your side, watching your back,” you say it with so much ease that Clarisse can’t help but blurt out the next few words.

“Be careful or I might think you have a crush on me,” she says, and she tries to say it in a teasing voice, but it comes out shaky. However, she doesn’t expect the blooming blush on your cheeks and your shy smile, making her realize that maybe you do and that is why you are protecting her. 

“Wait, you do have a crush on me,” she says and for a moment she feels her heart beating faster, just like when she finished fighting with one of her siblings. Her stomach is turning into knots, and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“I do, I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable,” you look slightly ashamed, as if Clarisse could ever be mad at you for having feelings for her.

“Don’t apologize, it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” there is short silence that follows her words, were Clarisse tries to tell herself that she should just take the risk and go for it.

“I kind of have a crush on you too,” she says quietly, she had only admitted it to herself in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. Saying it out loud felt like a relief but it was also nerve-wracking.

You look surprised at her words, like you couldn’t believe the Ares girl could ever feel the same for you.

“Really?”, Clarisse can’t help but smile at your surprise, you looked even more beautiful like that. She gets closer to you and takes your hand, enjoying the darkening blush on your cheeks.

“Really,” she says, and she enjoys your shy smile, as you look down at your intertwined fingers.

“What do you say we go on a date sometimes? That way you can tell me all of your tricks,” Clarisse proposes, silently hoping that you will give her a chance. 

“I would love that, but if I told you everything, I would have to kill you,” you say with a teasing smile and Clarisse rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“I’ll take the chance, beautiful,” she says before starting to bring you towards a secluded spot in the forest.

“Don’t you want to know who wins capture the flag?”, she hears you ask, and she turns around to find you looking at her with worried eyes, but she only shakes her head.

“Doesn’t matter at the moment, I’ve got more important things to do. And next time I will make sure to have a certain daughter of Nemesis on my team to win,” Clarisse says enjoying your satisfied smile before bringing you to her secluded spot. 

Unfortunately for the other campers, this was the day an unbreakable duo was formed, you had Clarisse at the front, defending herself but mostly you. And in the shadows, there was the brain, the one that could plot a revenge better than anyone by knowing exactly what your weaknesses were. Even the gods were scared for a moment as they saw the two girls form a bond that could never be broken.

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You're a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There's something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: Steamy / flirty filler chapter while I gather my thoughts lol (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, they motivate me!!)

last chap | A03 | masterlist

part 5

Fluorescent bulbs hissed in revelation of their age, blanketing upon your face so to provoke you from your slumber. The sound of their buzz alongside slurping made you startle. You shot to your feet immediately, swaying when your gaze darkened as consequence of your haste.

“Woah now, pretty thang— don’t shoot. If you want some cherry tomatas’— you only gotta ask.”

He hadn’t faded into your vision yet, but that voice was uniquely his own. It brought a scowl to your features. Your sharp eyes shifted to find the mangled Ghoul seated with knees spread, colors returning to their natural state. Dogmeat rested her abnormally large head upon his thigh as her owner munched upon a handful of plump vegetables, spitting their seeds at the floor.

Your gaze wandered to his hand, and an ache licked at the back of your neck. Disoriented as you had become in recent days, you remembered it well. What he did to you.

He tried to drown you.

Your gaze narrowed, hands free from their bounds. They clenched into balled fists, heating with your frustrations. The Ghoul watched on, observant. Silent at first, but soon he pressed his tongue to his cheek and offered a dry huff of a laugh.

“Y’know, I realized somethin’ back at that lake. Somethin’ real special bout’ you. Those fancy powers o’ yours only seem to work in your favor when you s’ scared shitless. So go on then, ball those fists and squint those pretty eyes at me much as you’d like… I ain’t scared of you…”

It was as if you stood transparent before him, entirely crafted of glass to be looked straight through. He wore a smug, satisfied expression proud.

A deep rumble irked at your very core, eating away at you like sugar ants to abundant, oozing honeycomb. You were starved. The meals your keepers awarded you were feasts for vermin and insect. Not human. Not… whatever you were.

There was no avoiding your eyes falling to the ripe vegetables clutched in his gloved palm. The place where his brows should dwell, it jumped in mock curiosity. He curled his fingers away from his snack, as if to beckon you toward him to grab some.

That same palm— it was the exact damned weapon which suffocated you under the lake. So? You stayed put. Still as a stone statue in a twister. The Ghoul tilted his head at the sight of you.

“Oh c’mon now sweetie, don’t be like that… I ain’t feral enough to bite you just yet…”

His voice was lighter now, teasing, but your gaze found itself preoccupied on the unfamiliar and rather comfortable surroundings you now dwelled within. You were no longer at the surface, and if you were? It looked far different from the dunes you braved alongside him.

When you turned your head to ask your captor just exactly where you were, you startled. He towered right before you with his glove outstretched and wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow upon your face, shielding you from the buzzing fluorescents.

You gulped, eyes darting in aversion to just about any other object in sight. Once again, it wasn’t allowed. That palm, the same palm which kept you from surfacing in the water, it raised and flicked a finger free to hook under your chin. He tugged at you like a captured minnow on his rod so your gaze could not avoid him.

He only admired his newfound prey, scanning hazel globes amongst your face as he gathered his next words.

“Hungry?” The mangled beast softly asked, and just the idea of the treats bursting upon your tongue made your stomach jump. Your gaze fell to his other palm again, a generous handful of cherry tomatoes lay waiting. Tempting.

Daring you.

Yet you’d learned him, now. In your day prior.

“What then? You’ll snatch them away and spit the seeds at me when I reach for one?” You forced, voice soft as his own but far sharper. Far more laced with frustration, anger.

His lips curled into an awful, mangled grin.

“Oh s’ that what you think? Let’s see then…”

He treated you as though you were nothing more than a lightning bug trapped in his spit-shined jar. Shaking you, poking and prodding at you till your flames ignited and you glowed for him.

Mischief was sewn in his hazels as he plucked a tomato from his grasp and dangled it by its stem before his admiring eyes. “These are my favorite…” he murmured whilst examining it for a long moment, then that cold gaze shifted to you.

“Open.” He commanded.

You did not. Least, not immediately. Stubborn, cautious you only glared up at him with lips pursed unnaturally tight. Oh he found it amusing, simply because he knew very well that he’d break you.

“S’ hard to say no to food when you’ve eaten table scraps in a cage your whole life, ain’t it? Go on now, take a bite.”

Much as you wished you didn’t need to take a bite for sake of your own pride— your stomach complained again. Louder. His eyes sluggishly shifted down to the place of protest, that starved belly of yours. They then raked back up to your dull lookers.

“What’s it gon’ be?”

Perhaps he was so adamant for you to eat because he stuffed poison in between the seeds, perhaps it was because he needed you alive so to continue inflicting his torture. A shaky breath burned at all of your resolve, however, and your petal pink lips parted.

Soon as the candy-sweet globe grazed your eager tongue, you nearly moaned. He held onto the stem with pinched fingers so you wouldn’t choke upon it by fault of your eagerness, eyes widening as it bursted honeyed flavor upon your tastebuds.

You were far too engrossed in the flavor, in savoring it to notice the Ghoul’s dark hazels and how they hadn’t left your mouth once.

“There you go…” he spoke to you with a gentleness that contradicted his very existence. His little lightning bug in a glass jar, moving away the stray hair falling against your lips as you chewed.

“See, I ain’t all bad— smoothie. Least, when I get what I want.”

You ignored him, swallowing the seeds and skin of the treat so to fulfill your hunger. Yet a singular tomato left you far from satisfied. Your orbs settled back on the remaining cluster in his hand. He smiled thinly, yet it never seemed to reach his hazel eyes.

He raised his palm and brow bone again, as if to silently say “have at it.” You knew well enough now that he had a knack for playing with you. Like a deranged child to a most unfortunate doll. Yet as demeaning as eating like a mutt from his gloved palm seemed? The first cherry tomato took your tongue hostage and only left it craving for more.

You were shameless, entirely ignorant of caution or poise as you inhaled the remaining ton. He whistled at the sight, bringing his free hand to the crown of your matted locks so to brush against them as you devoured the delectable snack.

“Atta’ girl, there you go…” the Ghoul praised.

When you were done, wincing as you munched on the many seeds tangled in your teeth, you licked the sweet juice from your lips and created distance from the creature; half expecting to collapse from the inevitable poison. You didn’t so much as sway.

He regarded you in silence, hazels hawk-like in their motions, trailing each tilt and bend of your head as you absorbed your unfamiliar surroundings. The tomatoes had momentarily satisfied your hunger, yet the starvation of your curiosity was far greater. You dared a glance toward him again, only to see him sucking away at the juice and saliva staining his raven glove. Your saliva.

When he finished up, he sighed.

“Vault. N’ abandoned one in bum-fuck middle o’ nowhere. S’ a good thing— you n’ I both deserve a scorchin’ hot shower. Just down the hall to the left; but don’t take too long now, sweetie, cause I won’t hesitate to join you so I can soak up that hot water before s’ wasted…”

You felt as though you were nothing more than a fried computer, circuits bathed in saltwater enough to make them burst and fizzle. You only blinked at him, his final words tinging the apples of your cheeks a pretty pink. With no further words spoken, you turned on your heel and begun to make your way there.

You found it soon enough, robotic and zombie-like as slithered inside. Free, in privacy. It was a marvel. Even so, the mere sight of you startled your core and its branches.

Who was beyond the glass?

You didn’t remember much, only, a deep part of your soul was most certain that this could not be you. It simply couldn’t.

Coffee colored staining under your dull eyes, hair frayed and stringy, skin pallid and sickly looking. Like a true undead creature, worse off than the Ghoul.

Pretty thing.

You scoffed.

The bones protruding from your hands shook as you explored the contents of the wicker cabinet, gathering all the things you somehow knew about but could not remember how.

You knew how to brush your hair, how to sparkle your teeth and rinse off your skin. Yet? You could not remember the last time you did any of those pleasant things. Not without guidance from your keepers, at least.

You made quick work of them though, taming the bird’s nest with frustrated and clenched teeth, brushing those same teeth till they were pearly and no longer dull. When you were satisfied, you peeled the tattered gown from your skin and stared at the bare reflection before you.

Bruises and scars peppered your perfect skin. Your ribs poked at the place where healthy meat should be…

Why did they do this to you?

You blinked away the saltwater in your eyes, averting your gaze immediately and stepping into the shower instead. Scorching water blanketed your skin, soothing away the goosebumps brought upon by chill. You moaned at the sensation. Like a firm hug, wiping away all the dirt and grime of the surface wasteland.

The shampoo smelled of peonies, the soap like freshly plucked herbs and you were most generous with both of them; lathering them to suds upon your grayed skin. You wished to remain there forever, but you knew well that the Ghoul was not jesting with his threats.

Soon as you pried yourself from the steam, you rummaged around the cabinet some more and plucked out the bottles and jars that looked most interesting to you. A blonde man with a mile-wide smile was plastered on each one, paint chipped with age. You gazed on at the man for a moment, running a thumb along his perfectly straight teeth. He looked… familiar to you.

There was no time to waste, though, so you went about squirting a generous dollop of “radiation free gulper mucin face wash” into your palm. It stuck to your fingers, but lathered nicely upon your cheeks. You followed with a mysterious looking jar of white cream that had no promised label, it sunk nicely into your skin. You admired the way it glistened when you were done.

In the cabinet below the sink lay a folded towel atop fresh clothing, cobwebs stuck to the fabric which you simply brushed off. A white tank top and pants so long you’d most certainly stumble upon them as you walked. You donned them and rolled up the cuffs.

The mirror approved of you now, you looked far more human. Your eyes still dull but, somehow more— recognizable. You gazed on at yourself, a headache stirring as you attempted to remember your features more clearly. It only lasted a moment, however, the door bursted open an inhale later.

There he stood, as promised, keen to soak in the scorching water. Your head snapped to him, and he only stepped behind you, regarding your cautious gaze in the mirror.

“Well look at you now, pretty thing. All nice n’ squeaky. Bet you feel betta’, huh?”

His voice was deeper then, as if an unspoken layer was laced between his words. That awful face tilted its head at you, and your palms gripped at the countertop even tighter.

The mangled man pressed pink tongue to cheek and displayed a mischievous grin as he closed the distance parting you with a singular step forward. You were frozen in place as a different kind of warmth engulfed your underfed temple. It lasted a second too short as he only removed his brimmed hat and placed it on the countertop. He stepped back again, squinting softly at your wide eyes in the mirror whilst slowly taking off his coat.

“Now I don’t mind you stayin’ for the show, sweetie. Just didn’t peg you as the type.”

His words snapped you from the trance your reflection stuck upon you, and you immediately cleared your throat as you turned from him.

“Excuse me.” You whispered in haste, bursting through the door and easing your rapid heart by collapsing on the navy loveseat in the kitchen— plagued with thoughts of an irradiated Ghoul and his warmth pressed against you…

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (💋)

“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”

You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.

There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.

“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."

"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."

"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.

Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.

"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."

He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."

"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"

"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."

"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."

"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."

"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."

"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."

Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."

"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."

You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.

"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."

Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."

Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"

"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.

Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.

"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."

"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."

He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.

His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."

"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."

Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"

There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.

"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."

You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.

"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."

People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.

Because why was it sexy..? Stop.

"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."

His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"

"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."

The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.

"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."

You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (4)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, longing

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (3)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You wake, once again, from a deep slumber you yawn and look around your bedroom. Last night you had the best dream.

Your dream man stepped out of your dreams and came to you to cuddle you in your bed. His scent still lingers on your clothes, and you sigh, wishing he’d stayed for a little longer.

“Well, he lives only in my dreams,” you press the plushie your secret admirer gifted to you to your heart. No matter what your colleague says, you cherish the cute cat. Whoever sent the flowers and the plushie to you must mean well.

You put the plushie away, putting it on top of your pillow. “Sorry, I got to go to work,” you sigh and pat its head. “I’ll be back soon, and we can cuddle some more.”

While you reluctantly slip out of bed, already regretting it the moment your feet touch the cold floor, Bucky watches you get ready for work.

He hums as you stretch in front of the wind. “We could work out together,” he says. “I think we will start with an easy workout.”

Alpine meows and turns their attention back toward the food in the bowl.

“What do you say, Alpine? Do you want to go shopping for her?” Bucky rubs his scruffy chin. “Maybe we could accidentally bump into her next time she goes grocery shopping.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, it’s too soon. We need to get to know her even better.” He lies to himself. Bucky is scared to mess things up and tries to buy himself some time. “We’ll send her another gift today. I hope she’ll like it.”

“You got another gift from your stalker,” your colleague wrinkles her nose. She huffs because you ignore her jab. “You should call the cops or something. I just know that guy is a creep.”

“Why?” you look at the new gift. Your secret admirer sent an orchid to you this time. A beautiful yellow phalaenopsis. “They sent me an orchid. I love them.” You smile and carefully run your fingertips over one blossom. “I got them in many colors. How could they possibly know I didn’t have a yellow one yet.”

“Stalkers gonna stalk,” she quips while glancing at the orchid. “I’m telling you; they are going to become creepier in no time. Soon they will send you underwear or shit.”

“Underwear,” you gasp. “Oh, my.” You touch your heated cheeks. “You think they’re going to send me underwear? Maybe lace or satin.”

“You’re…crazy,” she huffs and storms off. “If you disappear, I won’t call the cops.”

You shrug. “I don’t know what’s her problem. The orchid is beautiful, and they didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a nice gift, nothing else.”

“Alpine!” Bucky calls for his cat. “She’s back and she got the orchid.” He grins when you step toward the window to place the new beauty on your windowsill. “She likes the orchid.”

Alpine ignores its owner once again. The white furball prefers getting comfortable in Bucky’s lap. “What else could we get for our girl, Alpine? We gave her flowers, a plushie, and an orchid.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “I got it!” Bucky jumps up, much to Alpine’s chagrin. The cat lands on the floor, hissing at their owner. “I’ll gift her my first edition of The Hobbit. She’s got a lot of books, but no first edition.”

Bucky walks toward the shelf he bought some weeks ago. A single book and his sunglasses the only things the only things he placed on the shelf. He grabs the book and smiles.

“I hope she’ll like it as much as I did when I read it for the first time.” He flinches at his own words. A memory wants to flash up in his mind, but he pushes it away.

Most of the time Bucky doesn’t allow himself to think about his life before Hydra.

Even if those memories are pleasant. It pains him to remember his life before the winter soldier, and all the losses he had to endure.

“I need to buy more wrapping paper, Alpine. Make a mental note.”

Bucky carefully puts the book on the small table next to his armchair. He’ll wrap it tomorrow and send it to you. Bucky wants to see you smile again.

“Ladies, we got a new roommate,” you talk to your orchids. “She’s a little shy, so be nice.” You giggle at your silliness. “Yellow queen, welcome to my home.”

You step away to admire your windowsill. “So beautiful. I wonder if he knew that I didn’t have a yellow one yet. He must be very observant. I can’t believe my colleague called him a creep. My secret admirer was nothing but kind to me.”

Smiling you just look at your collection of orchids for a moment. It makes you feel calm and happy just looking at them.

Sometimes, if the world gets too much you get lost in daydreams of flowers and fairytales. You are enchanted by the pretty flowers until you remember you had plans for tonight.

“Shoot! I still need to get changed. My show starts in not half an hour!”

Today, you leave the curtains open. Not only in your living room but in your bedroom too.

You slowly strip your clothes off and put on a show for your secret admirer. He won’t see much because you didn’t switch the light on, but you want him to see you for longer than a few moments.

If he’s not brave enough to talk to you yet, you’ll wait for him to reveal himself.

All you know is that he’s out there, watching over you like a guardian angel.

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[the-moon-files]

So I have tried to request this prompt from someone else but I don't think their blog is that active anymore. If your willing I'd love to request the following.

Prompt: Reader is bisexual and gender neutral.

Reader is considered fairly attractive and gets flirted with pretty often by basically whoever gender wise. And maybe reader and Zelda even end up flirting a little bit. Reader would have a similar lackadaisical flirty personality as Warriors has.

I wanted to see how each of The Chain would react to this with the context of them having secret feelings for the reader.

2nd official request, woo look at me go 🏃💨

Sun: Gender-neutral Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Zelda (Assuming they meant BOTW), + the classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, mild typical loz violence, Mildly Suggestive, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so i like to think that modern flirting is radically different than their medieval flirting,

like mayyybbeee Wild can handle it, but even then, they have royalty/knights still, so hes still gettin flustered lol

and i like to think u learned that difference the first time Wars complimented ur new/strange modern fit, and u returned the energy?? except 10x stronger (to them)??

youve played the player, and beat him at his own game, the Captain of the knights is sputtering and shit LMAO

(he said smth like, “their beauty is god-like in this otherworldly clothing“ and YOU said smth like he’d “thank you, youd look better in my bed than in armor 👉 😎 👉 ” lmao)

funniest part is, bc its so natural, i can see u immediately shooting off smth and forgetting it instantly, much to the Links collective shock 😭

u go to towns and notice theres always 1 hero around to steer u away from shopkeepers, townsppl, etc so u wont flirt w/them LMAO

(when u finally notice, u just, “ohh i get it now, so im only allowed to flirt with someone named Link, ohhh, okayy” and they just, “NO we didnt say that-!” “No its just their bold flirtations are not for the weak of heart-!” “Yes.” “CAPTAIN-”)

the only one who they cant steer u away from is Zelda.

afterall, they kinda have to inform the Princess/now Queen of the kingdom, whats going on w/them traveling with Link (Wild) around time and space

the sheikah tablet had been disconnecting + reconnecting to Purah’s both fascination and worry

so as theyre invited to eat dinner and explain in the rebuilding castle, everyone’s absorbed in shadow talk or smth, and u can see Zelda’s struggling to follow along, u just casually bring it back to her, as she’s also trying to write notes and theyve moved on too quickly w/o her

“wowww, all these men and not a single one’s gonna offer the lady any, ‘hi, hello, how is the most beautiful girl in the world today?’ “

and the gapingggg from the links shut them right up, while Zelda goes all pink and coughs, and agrees that they should move on to more chill topics lol

and u can crack anybody tbh, Zelda giggles at ur compliments all the time, even in work mode, u can deffo get Wars to blush to his ears, and even Time to look away first in a flirty + staring contest lol

Legend might actually put his hands up like he’s prepared to fight u anytime u try to flirt at him when its just you two, before he realizes what hes doing and stops LMAO

oh and u absolutely get a lot of mileage out of that one lol

the best reactions have gotta be, in order of most to least extreme: Hyrule, Sky, Wild, Four, Legend, Twilight, Wars, Time

Rulie, Sky, Wild and Four fall into that classic, shocked-heart-eyes, full blush up to their pointy ears, etc category when u get them,

they are also very easy to get lmao

Four is the best at recovery, or ducking away, but if its the Colors, its this type of obvious lol, w/the obvious ones like Red and Blue, Green takes a little more to break, and tbh Vio could go toe-to-toe w/u better than Wars tbh before he crumbles under the pressure lol

Legend, Twi, Wars, and Time faces may not change a lot, bc theyre trying to save it lmao, but the way their cheeks go pink and ears twitch is how u know ur gettting to them (along w/legend’s defensive reaction to getting cornered LMAO)

Twi has caved and covered his face w/his hands before lmao

one day youll get Time to break more than an ear twitch, and looking away, One Day.

(Wind is in fact, having the time of his life, watching you absolutely hilariously wreck these otherwise v serious heroes, hes glad u got them to finally relax a little, but also its hilarious seeing Wars and Legend red faces, and occasionally stealing Wild’s tablet to take funny pics of them all to blackmail later lol)

☆

idk how good that was, as im kinda bust at flirty banter between characters, so i hope this suffices ur need to flirt w/everyone lol

also i feel i should apologize for not rlly including pronouns? it just kinda comes w/writing reader stories to put them in 2nd person to both make intimacy for readers w/their little avatar im controlling for them, and to purposefully remove the need for gendered pronouns :/

so im sorry i couldnt quite figure out how to make it where “they/them” got used much, i promise i love all pronouns, its just a skill issue tbh lmao

btw

send any prayers, blessings, or good vibes u got my way tomorrow bc im getting wisdom teeth surgery and i am intimidated✨

ill post more asks (i have multiple asks!! <33) after im lying in bed lamenting my painful fate,

mostly just worried ill react badly to the drugs, also the idea of being knocked out during surgery is a little scary so what can i say

have a great weekend guys!! thanks for reading if u did :)

Peace out,

🌙

[themongrelcatcamehome-blog]

i am trying to break your heart pt.2

So, for this part... Basically it's Sevika and Cait's smut. Please read the tags first. This story was in my head for days. Hope you guys enjoy it.

x

Synopsis: Over a month has passed since Caitlyn and Vi ended their relationship, yet Caitlyn couldn’t find a reason to celebrate Jinx's capture. Despite it being a huge day for Piltover and the Enforcers, Caitlyn only wanted to go home, but someone had another plans for ther.

Tags and Warnings: porn with plot, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, dom/sub, face fucking, face sitting, degradation kink, power play, smoking, drinking, tribbing, dry humping, abduction, caitlyn with sevika, strong language and i don't know what else to put here, i'm sorry.

__________________________________________________________

The Commander had left the precinct a few minutes earlier. She decided to walk home. The route was short, and she didn’t want to feel nauseous driving. As she turned onto the street that led to Municipal Park, her house came into view. Caitlyn heard the rustling of leaves coming from inside the park, a sound too loud to be caused by an animal. She straightened her posture, unfastened her holster, and walked toward the noise with her right hand on her weapon. The park gate was closed. Caitlyn checked the latch and confirmed it was locked. She heard a metallic clanging sound. Caitlyn quickened her pace toward the side of the gate, further from the street and closer to the fence and the sidewalk on the right of the park. Several vehicles were parked there, but no one was in sight.

It was a spot used to park the cars of lower-ranking officers who didn’t have official spaces in the precinct’s parking lot. There were no establishments on this street; it was a dead end. Caitlyn crouched to see if anyone was hiding between the first two vehicles. No feet. She moved a meter forward and peeked around the side of a car. Nothing. She turned on her chest flashlight, attached to her uniform. Nothing. Caitlyn drew her weapon from its holster. She was blinking rapidly.

Behind the third vehicle, she saw a shadow.

“Who’s there?” Caitlyn called out. No response.

Caitlyn grew concerned it might be a Firelight.

“Come out and there won’t be any trouble.” Still no response.

Caitlyn moved to the right to avoid being cornered against the park’s fence. With her weapon drawn, she began sidestepping with her back to the street. She pointed her gun toward the inside of the car, then behind it. She saw someone running to the fourth car, close to the fences.

“You’re running out of cars to hide behind. Show yourself and I won’t shoot.”

Part of the figure hiding behind the car was now visible. It was a Zaunite child, wearing a dirty hat splattered with fluorescent green stains.

“Isha?!”

Caitlyn couldn't react when she felt a blow to her left temple.

As her eyes began to open, Caitlyn felt a sharp pain in her head. Her vision was blurry and she was confused. When she tried to bring her hands to the source of the pain, she realized they were tied.

"What?! What is this?! Where am I?!"

The chair Caitlyn was tied to creaked as she moved from side to side. She only realized her feet were also tied when she toppled to the side. Her head almost hit the wooden floor, and she felt like she would faint again—until she felt a bunch of cold water splashing on her face. Caitlyn was terrified, bleeding, tied up, and nearly choked on the water. Her body was lifted off the ground and she closed her eyes to regain her senses. When she opened them, Sevika was standing in front of her.

- Hello, dear. Did you sleep well?  - You... Where am I? What's going on?  - You're in Zaun. Didn't you smell it?

Sevika laughed. She was leaning against a large table. The room was dark with colorful decorations. A glass of whiskey was beside her, and she was smoking a cigarette. Sevika was wearing a cloak over her mechanical arm, and her other arm showed she was dressed in a gray tank top. She wore dark gray pants and iron-toed boots. Her hair was half tied up, with a few strands falling over her face.

- I find it very funny how stupid you all are.

 Sevika continued laughing.

 - You really think you're clever. And that's why you're stupid. Do you understand, sweetie? - Just tell me what you want.

Caitlyn had regained her senses. Despite the pain, the cold water helped her see better and the adrenaline made her feel electric. Her shirt was soaked with blood and water. Caitlyn looked around and saw her gun resting on the table. There was no chance of solving this any other way but by talking.

- Your little informant must've delivered the message. I didn't want to wait for you to come here all armed, so I found you first. - Typical of a cowardly henchwoman. Why don't you untie me and we can talk as equals? - Oh... you talk tough for someone who's tied to my chair. - You don't intimidate me, Sevika. In fact… - Shut it, kitten. You and half of Zaun can call me whatever you want; I don't care. Now that you've caught Jinx, you all think you're so great, huh?

Sevika let out a loud laugh and stubbed out her cigarette on the table. She approached Caitlyn, crouched down to be at her level. Caitlyn was scared.

- How's that bitch-ass whining traitor? - What?!  - Your little girlfriend. The one who likes to play rough.

Caitlyn was trying to keep up with Sevika’s tone. She couldn't let her win.

- The one who tore off your arm and beat your ass more times than you can remember?

Sevika smirked. She pushed back the strands of hair falling over her face. She lifted Caitlyn's head, who was trying to pull away from Sevika's touch. Sevika reached for her cloak, took the end of it, and wiped Caitlyn's face. Caitlyn thought it was weird, but just watched how it would go from there.

- You know, sweetie, I wonder how a whiny little bitch like Vi managed to pull you off. 

Sevika stared at Caitlyn’s breasts. Caitlyn was now looking directly at Sevika's face. She was gorgeous, but Caitlyn despised her. Sevika spoke again.

- Do you have a thing for pitiful individuals? It's a shame I don't have a chance with you, then.

Caitlyn felt rage building up. Her face was hot with hatred, and her head kept throbbing in pain. While Sevika spoke, Caitlyn tried to free her hands without success. She lowered her gaze, laughed, and said:

- I heard that competition between women is a thing, but not in a million years would you win against her. Is that why you talk so much? To make up for your little ego… - Oh, I love when you talk like that. Keep going! - Look, I don't know what you're trying to do with this little show. Stop with the theatrics and just tell me what you want. - What a shame. I was starting to get turned on.

Sevika stood up and walked over to the table. Caitlyn followed her movements with her eyes. Sevika had a strong build. Her back was wide and the cloak gave her an almost mystical aura. Her thighs were strong and large. Caitlyn thought it was a shame that she was such a bad person. Sevika interrupted her thoughts.

- I think you're the type that bites.

Sevika lit another cigarette. The smoke covered her face for a moment and she blinked slowly. She had a smirk on her face when she licked her lips and said:

- You bite, darling?

By this point, Caitlyn's entire body was sore. She couldn't loosen the knot tying her hands at all. Her heart was racing, and she started coughing when Sevika blew smoke in her face and spoke again.

- Well, Hotstuff, here's the thing. Jinx's capture was great for Zaun. I wanted to thank you personally. That brat was out of control and I unfortunately grew fond of her. I think she’ll last longer locked up. She would’ve ended up dead or completely insane here and… - What a disgusting way to care about someone. Jinx is in solitary and will get the worst treatment possible as long as I live. - Does the crybaby know you talk like this about her sister?

Caitlyn felt her body tremble. She was cold, in pain and anxious. Fear washed over her. She thought about Vi’s face and feared she might never see her again.

- Vi is aware of what I think of Jinx.

- The dynamics of this love is pretty fucked up, sweetheart. Vi sleeps with someone who hates her, her origins, and her family. I think she has a humiliation fetish. Tell me... Does she fuck you while crying? Or even better! Do you fuck her while laughing?

Sevika’s words were the last straw. In one swift movement, Caitlyn tried to get up from the chair and slam it to the ground. The chair shattered, and Caitlyn fell. Her feet were still tied, but her hands were free. The knot had been tied to the back of the chair, which, when it broke, left just a small wooden stake. Caitlyn quickly wielded the wood in Sevika's direction.

Sevika clapped and placed the cigarette on the edge of the table. With almost dramatic flair, she removed her cloak, revealing her mechanical arm. Before Caitlyn could react, Sevika took the wood from her hand and struck the rope binding Caitlyn’s legs.

- Done, Commander. You're free. What will you do now?

Sevika crossed her arms, resting her human hand on the lever of her mechanical arm.

Caitlyn tried to stand but was dizzy. She fell back to the ground, lowered her head, and rested it on her knees.

- Sevika, if you're going to kill me, just do it. - I’m not going to kill you, sweet thing. I'm going to offer you a deal. - I don't want any deal with you. So now you have it. My answer is no. Cut the chase.

Sevika moved toward Caitlyn. She lifted the commander with a quick, firm motion, holding Caitlyn by the arms, pinning her against the wall.

- Commander, forget I exist. Can you do that? Get all your informants out of Zaun or I’ll kill them and send their remains to their families. You’ve already got what you want. Leave my people in peace. 

Caitlyn felt Sevika's breath near her left cheek. It smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. Her skin had a strong scent of wood and leather. Caitlyn said:

- Hand over Singed and all the shimmer production. Then I’ll give you your peace.

Caitlyn was trying to speak firmly despite her fear. She was completely vulnerable, pinned to a wall by someone much larger and taller than her. Sevika's figure was intimidating for many reasons. She thought about kicking Sevika in the groin, but her mechanical arm was too fast and she was probably resistant to pain.

- Caitlyn, Caitlyn… Don't you think you’re asking too much? I thought your megalomaniac phase was over.

It was the first time Sevika called Caitlyn by her name. The commander felt a shiver.

- I just want to lock up the people who harm Zaun. - How noble of you. But then you'd have to lock up yourself, your police, the Piltover councilors and every pathetic citizen of your city. You’re the ones poisoning us with the filth you produce. And you treat us like violent animals, huh? - My family built the ducts that filter your air! We do the best we can… - Best? You don’t know anything about Zaun. You think just because you sleep with a zaunite you know something about our people? - Sevika, it's the fourth time you mention my relationship with Violet…

Caitlyn quickly reflected before continuing. She remembered that Vi would probably be notified of her disappearance and come to her rescue. She needed to protect Vi. She resumed:

- For your information, we broke up. She ended things with me after I took on the task force that captured Jinx. If you’re interested, I...

Sevika interrupted:

- Wow! Good to know that Zaunite blood still runs in those veins.

Sevika moved away from Caitlyn. She thought about how much Vi must’ve suffered from Caitlyn's role in Jinx's capture. She reflected on how sad Vi's life must be in Piltover, even though she dated the commander. A wave of sadness, pity and a little bit of jealousy passed through Sevika's heart. She remembered when Vander brought her and Powder to live at the bar. Sevika had brought Mylo just a few days prior. Sevika shook her head trying to shake off these feelings. She needed to convince Caitlyn to leave her people alone once and for all.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, noticed the change in Sevika's expression. She was desperate and couldn’t identify which part of her speech had made Sevika change her expression. She thought it was the breakup for a second, but that would be a reach.

- Sevika, you are a woman who has lived through many things. And... What I’m asking for isn’t that different from the deal Vander had with us. Hand over Singed. - You think I know where Singed is?

The room started to heat up. Sevika heard a noise at the door. It was Isha.

Isha had a small weapon in her hands. She held the gun with one hand and gave Sevika a thumbs up with the another. Caitlyn felt saddened when she saw the girl.

Sevika ruffled Isha’s hair and said:

- Good job, little spark. You were great today. Mission accomplished. Now go to the hideout and...

Sevika crouched down to whisper something in the child’s ear, but Caitlyn overheard. Sevika told Isha to take a bath and that she could turn on the TV as long as she used headphones. "Don’t wait for me. Your bedtime stays the same, okay?"

Caitlyn was stunned. Sevika had adopted a sweet tone with Isha and Caitlyn noticed that she was smiling while talking to the girl.

For a moment, Caitlyn looked at Sevika differently. She realized how much that woman cared for her people and her place, even though the place was Zaun. The room where she has been was clean, everything was in place. Caitlyn briefly reflected on how the antagonism between the nations dehumanized the people of Zaun. She remembered Vi and wanted to cry, but held it back. A strange feeling overcame her now, almost an admiration for Sevika.

Sevika closed the door when Isha bounced out. She walked over to the table and continued:

- No one knows where Singed is. He doesn’t control anything, he’s insane. The shimmer is still controlled by the barons and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just want you to stop chasing my people. - Sevika, Singed is our target. Everything else is just collateral damage.

"Collateral damage, huh?"

Sevika lowered her eyes. A part of her hurt when she heard such terms. She thought about giving a big speech on the commander’s insensitivity, but she adopted her usual posture. She adjusted her body and sat down at the table with her legs spread apart. Her abdomen was exposed, and she noticed Caitlyn staring at it. Sevika needed to make things easier for herself. Was Caitlyn really staring at her body or she was wondering if she could take her down?

- Commander, just promise you’ll stop harassing the citizens. You want to do your job? Fine. Catch Singed and every baron. But stop harassing common, hard working people.

Caitlyn started to feel sick again. Her stomach was turning with mixed feelings. Sevika, despite her enormous figure, was very attractive. In a different way from Vi, but with similarities that made Caitlyn not completely despise Sevika. She noticed her six-pack and her beautiful muscles on the side of the abdomen. Her waistband was tight, pressing against her olive toned skin. Caitlyn was pondering on how to get herself out of that situation in the best way possible.

- Okay, Sevika. I’ll see what I can do about that. Can you get me a glass of water?

The atmosphere between them was now more pleasant. Caitlyn realized Sevika wasn't being violent anymore, she was being reasonable. Sevika opened a small fridge near the table and took out a tonic water. Her arms stretching to reach the bottle. The brand was unfamiliar, probably contraband from another country. She took a clean, cold glass from the fridge and poured the drink for Caitlyn.

Caitlyn thanked her from a distance. She was feeling better from the dizziness despite the pain. She made a head movement indicating if she could sit.

Sevika pulled a chair with her mechanical arm and turned her body to face Caitlyn, who was sitting down. The commander crossed her legs. She was in combat uniform: pants, boots, shirt, and jacket. Her beret was left in the car that had brought her to Zaun. Sevika stared at Caitlyn's legs. They were thin and long, but her thighs seemed strong. In other circumstances she would be very interested in her.

Caitlyn had a different kind of beauty compared to the women of Zaun. She was taller than usual and had astonishing blue eyes. Sevika observed as Caitlyn drank her tonic water.

- It’s really good, thanks. - You’re welcome. Recover as much as you need and one of my guys will escort you to the factory.

Sevika shook the thoughts away. Caitlyn despises her and she despises Caitlyn.

"One of my guys." Sevika said this while twisting a screw on her mechanical arm. Her human hand was very large, strong, and with visible veins. Caitlyn admired Sevika’s hands when she realized she was blushing.

- What’s the matter, commander? You’re not thinking of attacking me with that glass, are you?

Caitlyn barely managed to hide a smirk. Something about Sevika was sparking an unexpected desire to stay in that grim room a little longer.

- No, I won’t attack you. After all, your arm would kill me before I could do anything. - Oh, it would for sure. You have no idea what it can do…

Sevika gave a tap on her mechanical arm and raised her hand to her head. It was getting hot and sweat was starting to form on her forehead. Caitlyn drank the rest of the water in one gulp as she gazed at Sevika's arms. Her biceps were huge and they moved as she scratched her forehead. By now, she was trying to deny the thoughts running through her head. Did that arm help or hinder things?

“What the fuck was that?” Caitlyn thought before shaking the thoughts away.

The commander felt she needed a break.

- Sevika, I need to use the bathroom.

Sevika found the way Caitlyn spoke amusing—so polished. She stood up from the table and adjusted her pants. Her pants were so tight that they were slightly uncomfortable. She adjusted them by slipping her hand into the front pocket and pulling out a small key. Caitlyn was trying to look away, but couldn’t help looking at Sevika’s groin. Now the commander was sweating too, her head aching from the blow and her heart pounding from the sight of Sevika’s body.

As she handed the key to Caitlyn, Sevika lightly brushed her hand against the commander's. She noticed Caitlyn's skin was incredibly soft. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Sevika realized the whole room smelled like Caitlyn: a sweet perfume mixed with the scent of blood and smoke.  

Caitlyn took the key from Sevika's hand. She noticed how rough Sevika's hands were, and her skin tingled at the touch. The commander asked herself silently what was going on and rushed to question:

- Where's the bathroom?

Sevika gestured with her chin toward a door at the end of the room, almost a hidden little hatch. “Oh my God, every move now is kinda hot”, Caitlyn thought as she saw Sevika swinging her legs while sitting on the table. Caitlyn needed to wash her face and get some of the blood off her clothes. She was uncomfortable with her own scent. 

Caitlyn stood up from the chair. Sevika didn’t move, only following Caitlyn with her eyes. The uniform pants highlighted her figure. The commander had a beautiful backside and she walked as if she owned the place. A wave of heat swept through Sevika and she instinctively squeezed her own thigh. “Commander hotstuff indeed…”, the zaunite thought.

Caitlyn knew Sevika was watching her as she walked toward the bathroom. The door latch was set a bit lower than usual, so she had to bend slightly to see the keyhole. Caitlyn wanted to glance back but didn’t know how she’d react to Sevika’s gaze. She quickly unlocked the door and entered the bathroom.  

Sevika chuckled. She found it delightful the way the commander bent down, revealing a tiny bit of her white underwear.  

Inside the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed how clean the small cubicle was. It was a tiny bathroom with no shower and a dim warm light. Caitlyn turned on the faucet and started washing her face, removing the dried blood on her cheek and drying off with a paper towel. She tied her hair with itself. She realized her jacket was ruined. She took it off, and the contrast between the clean part of her shirt and the bloodstained part annoyed her. She considered removing her shirt and just wearing the jacket, but it didn’t make sense since the jacket was even dirtier. Caitlyn decided to take off her shirt and try to wash the blood out. It was quick and useless, the stains only got a little lighter. The commander wasn’t wearing a bra. It was so hot in the cubicle that being topless was a relief. Caitlyn patted the wet shirt with a bunch of paper towels trying to dry it a little. Her breasts were bouncing with the swift moves and with all the agitation, her head started bleeding again. “I need to see a doctor”, she thought.

Sevika noticed Caitlyn was taking a while. She wasn’t worried about an escape attempt or anything like that—just curious. Her phone rang.  

“Talk to me.”  

“Sevika, we’re still in position. Our lookout hasn’t detected any movement in Piltover yet. No one noticed the commander’s absence.”  

“Good. Stay alert. You’ll be the one escorting her back.”  

“Roger.”  

Caitlyn stepped out of the bathroom. Sevika locked her phone and looked at her. Caitlyn had cleaned her face and tied her hair up. Her shirt was wet with pinkish bloodstains now and her jacket was folded over her arm. Caitlyn turned around, locked the bathroom door, and handed the key back to Sevika by throwing it. Sevika caught it in the air.

- Thank you. - You’re welcome. You can leave now. Do we have a deal? - I’ll do my best. - Your best won’t suffice, sweetheart. Do I have your word?

Caitlyn was trying to focus on leaving, but Sevika's presence was magnetic. Something about her was so interesting, the commander thought to herself “Almost like I wanted more”. The thoughts now didn’t seem so absurd as Caitlyn started to feel aroused.

Caitlyn extended her hand to Sevika. The zaunite’s face was illuminated by the faint light streaming into the room through the skylight. Caitlyn’s breasts were visible through her shirt now. Her nipples hard against the shirt’s fabric. Sevika clasped Caitlyn’s hand and held it, her gaze fixed on Caitlyn’s chest. The commander said:  

- Sevika, you’re not my type. Let go of me.

Sevika didn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand when she tried to walk toward the exit. Sevika bit her lip and chuckled at Caitlyn’s remark. A wave of excitement now ran through Sevika’s body. She was so horny..

- Oh, sweetheart. I’m just using my eyes.

Caitlyn stood still, Sevika holding her hand. Was she really flirting with the woman who had kidnapped her just an hour ago? Caitlyn hadn’t had sex in over a month. She’d been buried in work and couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone recently. But a body is still a body and the commander was not immune to physical longing.

- You can look, but let me go.

Sevika rose from the table. She was nearly two heads taller than Caitlyn. Standing directly in front of the commander, she said:  

- Or what, officer?

Sevika used a disdainful tone when calling Caitlyn "officer."

Caitlyn’s gaze now fell to Sevika’s chest. Broad, powerful shoulders, and her tank top clung tightly to her figure. Caitlyn wondered what Sevika’s breasts looked like. A heavy silence filled the room. Caitlyn wanted to deliver a sharp response, but an inexplicable wave of desire was overtaking her. Sevika was big, strong, and exuded a dangerously attractive confidence.  

Caitlyn didn't think much. "Fuck it", she thought and said:

- Sevika, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Sevika was deeply aroused now. All she wanted was to kiss Caitlyn then and there, but she was curious to see how far the commander’s boldness would go.  

She tightened her grip on Caitlyn's hand, kept smiling as she pierced into the commander's eyes while resting on the table again. She crossed her legs, her thighs pressing against each other and Caitlyn lowered her gaze. Sevika said:

- I know exactly what you are. A spoiled little girl who thinks she knows everything about anything.

Caitlyn recognized it was a game. Sevika was trying to assert dominance over her. She wouldn’t be the first to try. Caitlyn slipped her hand free from Sevika’s grip, took a step forward, her breath quickening as she got closer:

- Afraid to find out that I can bite, darling?

Sevika felt a shiver run down her spine. Caitlyn smelled amazing. Her tied-back hair only accentuated her beauty. Caitlyn’s ears were flushed red. The warmth of her breath so close to Sevika’s cheek made her clit throb. But nothing was more exciting than realizing that Caitlyn thought she could have any control at that moment. Sevika decided to act.

- Commander, you talk too much for someone who’s about to sit on my face.

Sevika pulled Caitlyn to herself. She leaned her mechanical arm on the table and pulled the commander towards her with the other. She took advantage of her larger stature and wrapped Caitlyn's head in her hand. She had to control her strength so as not to hurt her neck when she wrapped her fingers around the end of Caitlyn's hair, near the nape. Caitlyn stood with a defiant look on her face, staring directly into Sevika's mouth, forcing her head in the opposite direction of Sevika's strength.

Sevika kissed Caitlyn, easily winning the struggle to see who was stronger. Her lips practically engulfed the commander’s. Sevika slipped her tongue between Caitlyn's lips and bit them together. Caitlyn leaned her whole body into Sevika. She put her right hand around the zaunite's waist while her left hand was on her face. Caitlyn was startled by how hard Sevika's waist was through her muscles. She felt the scars on her back and dug her nails into her hip.

Sevika had her arm around Caitlyn's waist now. Her hand wrapped perfectly around the curve of the commander's waist. The kiss got faster and sloppier. Sevika started biting Caitlyn's cheek, moving down to her chin and neck. She tore the buttons off the commander's shirt. Caitlyn let out a startled moan at Sevika's strength.

Caitlyn’s clit was hard now. 

Sevika sank her face into Caitlyn's right breast. She was amazed at how beautiful her tits were. Sevika bit Caitlyn's nipple and she let out a grunt.

Caitlyn was kissing Sevika's ear, enjoying every suckle the zaunite was giving her. She whispered in her ear:

- Take me to your room.

Sevika licked Caitlyn's left breast a little bit more now, bit the nipple harder and let go, which made Caitlyn's breast sway beautifully. She held the commander by the neck and said:

- I won't. You don't get to lay with me as an equal. I'll treat you like you deserve to be treated.

Caitlyn couldn't contain the wave of excitement that went through her body… What was that? Why the hell was she horny by being treated like that? Sevika was now pulling her hair down and Caitlyn's face was so hot that sweat was running down her neck. Sevika turned Caitlyn back to the table aggressively, the two of them exchanging positions. She finished ripping off Caitlyn's shirt, licked her sweat. Caitlyn stared back with a piercing gaze. Sevika was almost out of her mind now. Caitlyn rested both hands on the table, stuck out her ass a little and said:

- And how exactly do I deserve to be treated?

Sevika wrapped her cloak around part of the mechanical arm. She covered the piercing parts that could seriously injure Caitlyn and took off her own blouse. She was amazed by how Caitlyn was a freak.

Sevika's breasts were firm and perfectly contoured. Her crotch was pure muscle. Caitlyn turned to get a better look and her mouth filled with saliva. Caitlyn wanted to suck those breasts, unzip her pants and kneel for Sevika, all at the same time. She was so horny that she put her hand on her own pussy.

Sevika put her thumb to her lips when she saw Caitlyn like that. She took her hand to the zipper of her own pants and unzipped it.

- I'm going to treat you like the dirty little slut I know you are.

It was unbelievably hot being treated that way. Caitlyn was surprised at how much she liked that kind of treatment.

Sevika pulled the girl by the neck and sank her face down into her breasts. Sevika threw her head back in ecstasy.

Caitlyn sucked and nibbled on her left tit, licked the space between them and did the same on the other. Caitlyn's mouth was hot and she sucked with great desire. While she sucked, Caitlyn tried unsuccessfully to pull Sevika's pants down. They were still tight and Sevika wouldn't let her unzip them.

Sevika's mouth was full of saliva. She was whimpering“that's it” while Caitlyn sucked on her breasts. The commander finally gave up on unzipping the zaunite’s pants. Caitlyn moved her mouth up to her collarbones, licked them and spoke into her ear:

- You talk too much and do too little.

Sevika laughed. She pulled Caitlyn into a kiss again. Sevika was a ridiculously good kisser. Her hand was now on Caitlyn's pussy, over her pants. She made a few movements up and down Caitlyn's clit and realized that the commander was already very wet. 

Caitlyn had her hands on Sevika's ass. Her hips were huge and her ass was round and muscular. Caitlyn squeezed her ass and dug her nails into the zaunite's hips from time to time. 

Sevika lifted Caitlyn with absurd ease, holding her between her ass and thigh. With the help of her own thigh, she sat the girl down on the table. Caitlyn rested her elbows on the table and spread her legs. Sevika began to lick and bite her belly. Sevika's bite was strong, but not enough to hurt too much. She kissed Caitlyn's pussy over the pants and sniffed them. She hissed.

Sevika took two steps back and made a “come here” motion with her fingers. She said:

- Take off your pants and turn around.

Caitlyn got up from the table and undid a button on her pants. She was trying to prolong the moment, even though she really wanted to give it all to Sevika as soon as possible. She undid the second button. Sevika was watching with her thumb in her mouth. Her figure was stunning. The muscles in her forearm were prominent. Caitlyn wanted to feel what it was like to be fucked by that huge hand.

She undid the third button. She pulled down her pants a little so that part of her cunt showed. Sevika blinked slowly and nodded. Caitlyn now looked down at Sevika's pants. It was open a little lower. She could see Sevika's bush. Sevika's pubes were trimmed, close to her skin, it was a wonderful sight. Sevika noticed Caitlyn's gaze and put her hand on her hip. She started to pull down her pants. Caitlyn was fighting the urge to kneel and didn't even notice when she was already squatting. Sevika was visibly enjoying it. When Caitlyn was completely kneeling in front of Sevika's pussy, she moved closer, put Caitlyn's face against her crotch, lightly rubbed her mouth and nose against the beginning of her bush and said:

- Smell it. Feel it. Do you want it, you little whore?

Caitlyn was losing her mind. She needed to suck that woman off as soon as possible. Caitlyn never imagined that she would enjoy being treated like that, being cursed at. But it was all so delicious that she was in fact loving it. Caitlyn ran her hand down Sevika's thighs. Now she could smell her pussy. Her mouth filled with saliva as she squeezed the side of Sevika's thighs.

Sevika, in turn, grabbed Caitlyn by the hair. With her still kneeling, Sevika said:

- Stand up. Take off your pants and bend for me. I want to see your pussy from behind.

Caitlyn stood up, finished taking off her pants, stopped for a moment to let Sevika look. Caitlyn was fully naked now. Her cunt was completely shaved. She moved slowly, waiting. It felt weird. For a moment she was hoping Sevika would compliment her, but she just motioned with her fingers for her to turn around.

Caitlyn shrugged, she was disappointed. She rested both hands on the table and looked back at Sevika.

Sevika, still wearing her pants, approached. The commander felt her entire body stiff as Sevika’s body pressed against hers, pinning her against the table. Caitlyn's pussy was rubbing on the edge of it and her clit was so hard right now. It was almost impossible to control. Sevika continued pressing the commander, biting her back hard and squeezing her breasts. Caitlyn almost lost her balance as she tried to hold on to the table. Sevika bit Caitlyn's left ear and whispered:

- Spread your legs.

Caitlyn obeyed. Nothing made sense anymore. She was enjoying being treated with no intimacy. She spread her legs as wide as she could and leaned over the table. Her pussy was now almost dripping. Her legs trembled when she felt Sevika's hand on her ass. Caitlyn was longing for the zaunite’s hand inside her. Sevika, however, opened Caitlyn's buttcheeks and sank her face in. Sevika viciously licked Caitlyn's asshole. Movements up and down, biting the cheeks occasionally. Caitlyn moaned as she tried to lift herself more so that Sevika could suck her pussy. But Sevika refused, pulled away. Sevika opened Caitlyn's cheeks again and began to lick her asshole slowly this time. Caitlyn collapsed on the table, her whole body shaking. Sevika was spectacular. Every move Sevika made was better than the last. As Caitlyn enjoyed the licks, she felt Sevika's heavy, warm hand on her slit. Caitlyn lost all sense of space and knocked several items off the table. She put her hand back and touched Sevika's head. She was almost blacking out.

Sevika was masturbating Caitlyn with one finger while licking her asshole.

Caitlyn was moaning, standing on her tiptoes, her stomach flat on the table. When Sevika noticed Caitlyn's movements speeding up, her ass contracting faster, she took her mouth off Caitlyn's ass, her hand still on the commander's pussy.

Caitlyn gasped, she was ecstatic, this was the best thing she had ever experienced. The feeling of being eaten on a table by a stranger was very different and delicious. Sevika stopped masturbating Caitlyn. She ran her wet finger down Caitlyn's back and Caitlyn felt a shiver. Her fingers moved up to Caitlyn's shoulder. The commander was trembling, her legs staggering, her feet aching from being propped up for so long. A second later, Sevika removed her own pants with the help of her mechanical arm and pressed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass. Caitlyn felt Sevika's warmth, her pubes touching the bare skin of her butt.

The commander was almost cumming from the friction with the table. Sevika thrusted her hips onto the commander’s ass. Caitlyn instinctively began to move on Sevika's cunt. Sevika moaned. Her thick voice let out grunts. Sevika ran her hand through Caitlyn’s back and then her hair. She wanted to slap Caitlyn’s face, but wouldn’t do it from the back, so she choked the commander. Caitlyn whimpered, she wasn’t used to it. The zaunite’s grip was so strong that she had trouble breathing. Caitlyn focused on not passing out because that was too good. She then started grinding up and down on Sevika’s pussy while the zaunite choked her.

Caitlyn was very hot and Sevika stopped thrusting just to feel Caitlyn rub her ass. She let go of her neck. Caitlyn moved her hips up and down. She slid down Sevika's pussy slowly, then faster. She was breathing slower and deeper to catch more air. The zaunite crossed her arm over Caitlyn's body and squeezed her ass, pulling her closer. Sevika pressed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass and moved her hips to feel as much as possible. Caitlyn's buttcheeks were red with Sevika's grip and occasional slaps.

Dry humping was clearly one of Sevika’s favorites.

Caitlyn was experiencing something new. She'd never been denied for so long, treated like a fuck toy or being that physical, but it felt good. Sevika for some reason wasn't edging her. She stopped moving at just the right moment and it was as if Caitlyn's hard-on had reset.

Caitlyn lifted a little and looked back. Sevika had her hand on her own pussy, rubbing it. She looked at the commander and said:

- I can give you what you want by just looking at you.

“What does that mean?”, Caitlyn thought. Giving what?!

Caitlyn looked confused and Sevika laughed a little. She stopped rubbing her pussy. Her fingers wet with her own fluids. Sevika approached Caitlyn and rubbed her wet fingers on the commander’s mouth. She tasted Sevika for the first time and moaned. Her taste was very different, stronger. Sevika opened Caitlyn’s mouth and the girl started suckling her fingers.

When Sevika thought it was enough, she said:

- Oh, baby girl, you like that? 

Caitlyn nodded. Sevika resumed:

- I almost came in your beautiful ass, but I want to hear you moan my name first.

Caitlyn savored Sevika's taste again and whimpered a little. “What the fuck is happening?” the commander thought as she grew hornier with the zaunite’s treatment.

Sevika rubbed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass again and Caitlyn felt the weight of Sevika's mechanical arm on her back. It wasn't unpleasant, on the contrary. Sevika sucked her own two fingers and shoved them straight into the commander’s pussy.

Caitlyn's vision blurred. She felt a sharp pain because Sevika's movement was so fast, but it didn't last a second. Horniness quickly took the place of pain. Sevika thrusted deep. Her fingers were thick and skillful. The zaunite thrusted at a steady pace. Caitlyn moaned loudly, almost screaming. 

- Oh my God, oh my God!

Sevika felt her fingers getting wetter and wetter. Caitlyn was producing a river now, making a mess on Sevika’s hand. Caitlyn couldn't stop moving around on those fingers. They were rough in a delicious way and Sevika thrusted in without pity.

- Does that feel good, kitten?

Caitlyn felt her orgasm coming, she couldn’t control herself anymore. “When did I get so quick?” she thought while bouncing on Sevika’s fingers now. She tilted her head back on the zaunite shoulder.

- Yes! Yes! Sevika, I’m cumming!

Sevika groaned. She increased speed. She thrusted frantically now, hammering Caitlyn’s g-spot. Sevika's fingers were almost completely out of Caitlyn's pussy and back again in a perfect in-and-out motion. The zaunite removed her mechanical arm from Caitlyn's back when she realized that her body was arching. Caitlyn's back was arching. Caitlyn lifted her torso and rested her hands on the table. Her feet were firmly on the floor now. Sevika thrusted in hard, biting Caitlyn's back and saying through her teeth:

- Cum for me, baby girl. Let me hear it.

Caitlyn's breathing quickened, she threw her body forward one last time and let out a loud, long moan. She slipped her pussy deep into Sevika's fingers and squeezed them inside. She mewled softly while leaning back, landing in Sevika's chest, mewling just above the zaunite's chin:

- Sevika, oh my…

"Damn" was all Sevika could think. She also made a surprised face at how tight was Caitlyn's pussy grip. Caitlyn laid on the table, exhausted. Her body relaxing. She brought her hand up to her own ass and slowly withdrew Sevika's fingers.

Sevika sucked the two fingers that were inside Caitlyn.

Caitlyn couldn't think of anything else. She was shivering, sweating. Her whole body was lighter now. It was the best fuck she'd ever had with a stranger.

She got up from the table and realized that Sevika was sitting in the chair, lighting a cigarette, naked.

Caitlyn smoothed her hair and leaned against the table. She didn't know what to say, she was confused. Why did she just sit down?

“Did she come?” Caitlyn thought. She didn't know anything about Sevika, didn’t know how to act after sex with her, so she went to the mini fridge and got another tonic water. Sevika smoked calmly. Her gaze was on Caitlyn. She watched the commander drink the water, her throat swallowing, her stomach moving. Everything about Caitlyn was beautiful, delicate. 

Caitlyn interrupted the silence.

- Well, I still have to sit on your face.

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette. She looked into Caitlyn's eyes and smirked. The zaunite’s hair was now glued to her forehead. She was breathing heavily. She wanted to touch Caitlyn again so badly, but she wasn't willing to give up on the little game they've been playing so far.

- I know you're used to being in charge, but not here. Here you are just a…

Before Sevika could continue, Caitlyn was eager to join the game Sevika was playing as well. She didn’t held back:

- A whore, I know. I like being your whore.

Sevika hissed loudly. “What an interesting twist”, she thought. Caitlyn couldn’t believe that she was saying those things out loud.

Before Caitlyn could think of speaking anything else, Sevika told Caitlyn to approach using her finger with a sign of “come here”. Caitlyn obliged, still holding the water. She stopped in front of Sevika and said:

- I want to suck you off.

Sevika was wet and horny, but she didn't give in. 

- No, sweet thing. You will make me cum with your pussy. Looking at me.

Caitlyn kept being surprised by Sevika. She was different, almost strange. Caitlyn's mouth was salivating as she rested the bottle on the table and approached Sevika. Now seated, the zaunite's faced Caitlyn's navel. Sevika saw the fingerprints left on Caitlyn's waist. The commander lifted one leg, put one hand on the table and the other on Sevika's shoulder. She raised her hips as high as she could and put her cunt towards Sevika's mouth. She said:

- Get me started then.

Sevika was in heaven. Every part of her craved Caitlyn's body. Sevika pulled Caitlyn by the ass and started sucking her cunt. The commander's taste was smooth, almost sweet.

Caitlyn was still wet from her last orgasm. Caitlyn was surprised Sevika didn't vary her movements, she just sucked constantly. No licks. Caitlyn's entire clit was in Sevika's mouth, and she sucked the tip masterfully. Sevika felt Caitlyn's clit harden in her lips, she knew the pressure was right. She started sucking harder, faster. Caitlyn was breathing heavily, holding Sevika's head. 

The zaunite felt her chin getting wet as the fluids flowed out of Caitlyn.

Sevika slid down the chair, lying on the floor.

- Sit on my face, pretty thing.

Caitlyn spread her legs and rested her knees on the floor. She got on all fours in Sevika's mouth. She lowered herself a little to fit better and began to ride Sevika's mouth. Caitlyn was very horny and was already rubbing her pussy all over Sevika's face: chin, mouth, nose. The zaunite didn't seem to mind, she just kept sucking Caitlyn's clit frantically whenever she had the chance.

Caitlyn realized that she would soon cum at that rate. She tried to get out of Sevika’s face a few times, but she didn't want it to stop either. Sevika's mouth was big and swallowed her pussy completely. After three more attempts, Caitlyn pulled out of Sevika's face and sat directly on her cunt, her hands resting on Sevika's thighs as if she was restrained, she thrust her chest forward.

Sevika, her face all wet, didn't hesitate. She licked her lips, savoring Caitlyn's fluids and watched Caitlyn ride her pussy. Caitlyn wetting her as she rubbed herself against Sevika. The zaunite stretched her hand towards Caitlyn’s pussy and masturbated her while she was riding. Caitlyn closed her eyes and whimpered. "Oh my god, I can't cum first", she thought. Sevika was now spreading Caitlyn's fluids on her breasts, squeezing them. Every part that Sevika pressed, squeezed or bit got immediately red. Sevika pulled Caitlyn towards her. Caitlyn didn't stop riding, but her hips started to lose the pace. Caitlyn leaned to kiss her, pinning her chest onto Sevika's. The zaunite was groaning, biting Caitlyn's lips. She turned her face to the side and bit Caitlyn's arms. Caitlyn moaned and made a swift movement with her head trying to get her hair out of the way. Sevika noticed and pulled her hair, Caitlyn rode faster, her scalp was tingling and she let a loud moan out. Sevika couldn't think, she was just staring at Caitlyn's moves. "For fuck's sake" she thought. She did want to cum in Caitlyn's mouth now. Who knows, maybe afterwards?

Caitlyn rested her hands on Sevika's waist, squeezing it. Her pussy moved back and forth. Caitlyn even bounced up and down a little. Her face was stunning. She had a mischievous look on her face. She knew Sevika was loving it when she started to feel the spasms on the zaunite’s thigh.

Caitlyn rubbed her pussy three more times very slowly and turned onto her back. Now she had her hands on Sevika's shins now, their pussies pressed together. Caitlyn’'s clit rubbed against Sevika's bush. Caitlyn began to bounce in Sevika's cunt again, up and down. She looked back and moaned the words, her voice breaking from the movement:

- You wanted to see it from the back? Watch.

Sevika couldn't believe when she let a clear, loud moan, whimpering some words that Caitlyn unfortunately couldn’t hear.

(The words were: "I want to fucking tear you apart.")

Sevika grabbed Caitlyn's ass, squeezing and bouncing it harder.

Caitlyn's knees were killing her, but the adrenaline was extreme.

She was startled by a sudden slap on her ass. Sevika's hands were heavy. Caitlyn rode faster, Sevika lifted her butt off the ground and began to move her hips to match Caitlyn's movements. She was amazed by the commander figure riding her, her back was so white, her skin was smooth and her pussy was beautiful from behind too. The spasms increased, Caitlyn's ass spasmed as she felt Sevika strutter. The orgasm was beginning. She stopped moving and just pressed her pussy on Sevika. Sevika thrust and rubbed herself so fast now. She finally let out a long whimpering followed by a moan. She was squeezing Caitlyn's ass, didn't want her to move. When the commander felt the grip loosen, she was so proud of herself. Sevika was cumming the way she wanted.

Sevika stretched her body and let out a grunt. Her body trembled. Caitlyn held her position and rubbed slowly now. Sevika entire body trembled now, uncontrollably.

When she regained control of herself, Sevika slapped Caitlyn's ass prompting her to get up.

All of Sevika's actions were authoritarian. Caitlyn was now feeling used, almost like a toy. All the pride was gone, the relief vanished. She was getting up from her position, massaging her knees, her buttcheeks sore. Sevika stood up. Caitlyn saw her shadow and heard the zaunite saying:

- Now you kneel and drink it all.

Caitlyn was tired, let down by the subtle aggressiveness... But she obeyed. Sevika held Caitlyn tightly by the hair and shoved her face into her pussy. Caitlyn licked and swallowed all Sevika's cum. She looked up and instinctively opened her mouth. She was a brat, after all. Sevika rubbed the commander's face against her cunt again. Caitlyn kissed it while the zaunite lit another cigarette, an absurd scene that felt like a movie. Caitlyn’s head was racing again, she was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. When Sevika rubbed her cunt one last time on Caitlyn’s face, she noticed a shift on Caitlyn’s expression. She wanted so badly to keep going and maybe slap that pretty face, but she sat down in the chair and said:

- Good girl. I get it now.

Caitlyn was too exhausted to get up, so she just crawled over and sat next to Sevika, resting her head on her knees. She felt pathetic. Sevika wasn’t touching her. Still with the taste of Sevika in her mouth, she was feeling... disposable. An uncomfortable thing to feel. She was sitting on the floor, post-sex. Sevika didn't touch her at all even though Caitlyn instinctively caressed Sevika’s legs. The commander missed the post-sex cuddling, something that was so common with Vi.

“Vi... Oh, my god. What have I done?”

Sevika noticed when Caitlyn shook her head and covered her face with her hands. She was certain Caitlyn had never been through anything like this before and to make things worse she had a concussion. 

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette on the table again and gently stroked Caitlyn's head. She lifted her knee slightly, tilting Caitlyn's face toward her. 

Caitlyn’s expression was one of evident sadness and her slow blinking made it clear something was off. 

- Are you tired or planning to pass out? - My head hurts. Am I bleeding?

Sevika simply said "No" and observed Caitlyn lying there. The commander was so beautiful, so fragile. She brushed Caitlyn’s cheek and Caitlyn closed her eyes, tilting her head to savor the touch like a cat. For a brief moment Sevika felt a flutter in her stomach. What was that feeling? 

Sevika was a heartbreaker. She hooked up with whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted, but her best memories were always the ones with women that caught her off guard and Caitlyn had done exactly that. 

- You just need some stitches and a painkiller. Lucky for you, I’ve got both.

Sevika made a move to get up and Caitlyn lifted her head from Sevika's knee. Before things got awkward, Sevika grabbed the commander’s torn shirt and wrapped it around her. 

- I’ll grab the med kit.

Caitlyn felt slightly better. Even though she was sitting on the floor, exposed, that small moment of tenderness from Sevika had been enough. Still, something was off. She couldn’t focus on what could it be, she was tired and everything hurt. She decided to stand and sit in the chair Sevika had been using, curling up with her feet tucked beneath her.  

Sevika approached. Now wearing pants but still shirtless, she carried a small white box. 

- I’m gonna need you to help me, pretty thing.  

Caitlyn tilted her head, resting it on her knee, brushing her hair to the side opposite the wound. Sevika noticed it was just a small cut above Caitlyn's eyebrow. She grabbed a suture patch, some gauze and alcohol.  

- Give me your hand. I need you to pinch the wound so I can clean and stitch it.

Caitlyn had forgotten Sevika couldn’t do it alone and felt bad. She quickly sat up, but Sevika hushed her gently and guided Caitlyn's hand with care. 

- Right here. Feel that? It’s a pathetic little cut—it’ll heal in two days max. - My head is killing me, Sevika. - I know. If it were me, I wouldn’t have hit you soooo hard.

Sevika chuckled, teasing her. The cut was tiny, but she knew the pain came from the impact. Caitlyn’s head ached from the adrenaline and stress as well.  

Caitlyn pinched the wound as instructed. Sevika dripped alcohol into the cut and warned Caitlyn to close her eyes. Before a drop could reach her eye, Sevika leaned in and licked it away.  

- Did you just lick my blood?! - Whoa, kitten. Calm down. Don’t get me started again, please. It was just rubbing alcohol. Keep holding it.

Sevika, her chest bare, her mechanical arm limp at her side, rested her human arm on Caitlyn’s forehead. Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice the way Sevika’s muscles and chest moved as she worked. A sharp sting made Caitlyn gasp softly.  

- Ouch.

Sevika leaned back, placed the gauze on the table and gently held Caitlyn’s chin.  

- There you go, sweetheart. Ready for round two.

Caitlyn’s thoughts went adrift. Was that flirting again? She wasn’t in the mood.

Sevika however just opened the kit again, pulled out a pill and handed it to Caitlyn along with the water she hadn’t finished earlier. Caitlyn felt relief.

As Caitlyn swallowed the medication, Sevika picked up her tank top from the floor and slipped it on. She grabbed her phone, typing something and Caitlyn noticed the change in her expression as Sevika scrolled through her screen and sighed.  

- Well, darling, the cavalry’s on the way. - I’ll tell them I came willingly. Don’t worry. - I don’t need your protection, Commander. Nobody’s arresting me. - I could arrest you as soon as reinforcements arrive. You kidnapped Piltover’s commander, caused her a serious injury, tore her favorite shirt…

Caitlyn didn’t even notice the mood swing. Was she losing her mind? Something about just talking to Sevika made her feel better all of a sudden. 

Sevika teased her again.

- Oh, Commander. Are you going to tell them everything I did to you?

Caitlyn smiled; she was almost comfortable now. The pain was starting to subside and she let her legs drop. She looked at Sevika. Her pants were unbuttoned and her tank top was slightly askew. Caitlyn stood up from the chair, approached the zaunite. Sevika was reaching for another cigarette when Caitlyn plucked it from her hand.  

- This will kill you. - I breathe toxic waste as soon as I wake up. Every single day. I’m dying anyway.   - We have a plan to— - Commander, stop. Put your clothes on; your reinforcements should be here soon.

Caitlyn couldn’t understand Sevika’s demeanor out of nowhere. The fleeting sense of comfort evaporated. She realized she was in the enemy’s den trying to get physically closer to someone she should be arresting. Caitlyn tried to push away the confusion of it all. The sex had been good, the deal was made. So why was Sevika so cold? And more important... Why did she care so much? 

Caitlyn moved away from Sevika and picked up her clothes from the floor. She slipped her dirty jacket over the torn shirt, buttoning it up to her neck. The jacket was heavy, damp and stained with blood. As she put on her underwear, she noticed it was cold and wet too, but she slipped it on anyway, followed by her pants.  

She looked around for her boots but couldn’t find them.  

- Where are my shoes, Sevika? - Probably in the car. Let’s see how your hero plays this before we leave the room...

Caitlyn froze. “What?!”. She realized too late what was happening. Sevika was now fully dressed, her mechanical arm exposed and emitting sharp mechanical noises as its components adjusted. Sevika stood with her back to Caitlyn, facing the door. Caitlyn was just piecing it together when the door burst open violently and one of Sevika’s henchmen was thrown unconscious into the room.  

Vi stood in the doorway, poised to deliver another punch but stopped short when she saw Caitlyn.  

- Cait?! Are you okay? Come! Get behind me. Get away from this disgusting piece of shit!

______________________________________

End of part 2.

Breathe! Part 3 comes tomorrow.

Thank you so much for reading.

(also, please let me know if you have any suggestions. I'm new on fanfics in general and I don't want to screw this up.)

[0xstarzx0]

DARK RED

Rafe Cameron S3x Reader

CLOSE COMMAND

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

SYNOPSIS: Rafe found you and he’s planning on keeping it with him forever.

TW: toxic behavior, manipulation, control manipulation, threats, violence mentions, victim’s reprimand. !The reader is considered a weak-minded person, which explains her behavior towards Rafe! Mention of abortion. Insult

______________________________________________- [PT2]

6YEARS LATERS 

You watched your sons play happily in the streets of Chicago. You no longer lived as a kook, but you were happy with your children.

Music echoed through the streets as the boys were with their friends while you sunbathed peacefully.

"Mom, look what I can do!" said Elijah, making animal shadows with his hands.

You laughed and applauded, Dean coming to sit next to you.

Dean and Elijah are twin brothers.

Dean physically resembles you a lot. His eyes are just a little lighter than yours and his hair is not as wavy as yours.

Elijah strongly resembles Rafe, with the same hair, eye color, complexion, smile, EVERYTHING.

But in terms of character, they are completely different. Elijah inherited your character, while Dean has Rafe's character.

They are too young for you to say which one reminds you more of Rafe, but either way, you do your best to make sure they don’t become like him.

"When is Harper coming?" asks Dean with hint of frustration in his sad expression.

"She's coming at six-" Dean cuts you off. "How late is she staying with us?" You shrug your shoulders.

Tonight, you're working as a waitress for a high-end event in the north side of Chicago. You don't know what time you'll be home as these events can go on sometimes until three in the morning.

"I don't know Dean, but I'll make sure to come home as soon as possible," you say, gently stroking his hair.

"You always say that, but you come back super late!" The little blond puts his head against your shoulder.

It pains you to hear that because it’s true; sometimes in order to make sure you can make ends meet, you find yourself working overtime.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Dean hugs you with his little arms. "I love you, mom." You stroke his back. "I love you too, baby."

✯

The event had been going on for over an hour now, and the floors in the luxurious hotel where you were at began to fill up.

You stood up straight and tried to be as pleasant as possible. The atmosphere is enjoyable for the guests.

Each of them flaunts their wealth or talks about business. You recall the parties of this kind you used to attend with your family.

None of them were missed by you, you greet a woman as she starts talking to you.

She's quite attractive, with her medium-length black hair and her brown almond-shaped eyes. She acts as if you were the best friends in the world.

However, she doesn't do anything except talk about her life, there’s no coherence in what she’s saying, but you say nothing.

You hope to get at least a tip of $150 at this point.

She looks away from your eyes for a moment to look over your shoulder and smile. She waves her hand, probably attracting someone.

You begin to turn around to leave when you freeze. Bad memories come back one by one to the surface. Your heart beats so loudly in your ears that you can no longer hear.

You apologize and head to the bar, setting down your tray and run to the bathrooms. Rafe was there, he was right in front of you.

He still looks as charismatic and threatening as before. You walk to the sink and splash some water on your face.

And if he had recognized me? Will he make me pay? Will he be angry that I've deprived him of his children for so long? No, impossible that he’s recognized me.

You lift your head and find yourself face to face with him in the mirror. A satisfied smile on his face. You swallow hard and look at him.

His blue eyes are still as beautiful as ever, his shaved hair gives him a charm.

"It's been a long time." He says, locking the door. He advances, and you back away.

He straightens his tie and looks at himself in the mirror. "How's my child?"

You freeze in fear, the stress is at its peak. "I had an abortion." You gasp for air. He chuckles and looks at you. "You ran away just to have an abortion?"

You look at him angrily. "What do you want Rafe?" You tremble and he finally looks at you. "I know my children are somewhere in the streets of Chicago. Judging by your appearance, they must be in the South Side."

"Fuck off, Rafe!" You yell at him in anger. Rafe comes closer and looks at you with anger. "There are people who have disappeared for less than that Y/N. I suggest you lower your damn tone."

Rafe leans forward and tilts his head slightly. "I missed you." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You shudder at his touch.

"You broke my heart by leaving. How could you do this to me after everything I did for you." He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

There was a time when you would have apologized on your knees, but not anymore. "You were violentwith me."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "That happens in every relationship, it’s nothing serious." You look at him, shocked.

"How did you call them?" He asks, folding his arms across his chest. You furrow your brows. "What?..." he massages his temples. "The twins, what have you named them?" You tremble, how does he know?

"I don’t know what you mean." Rafe sighs loudly. "Do you really think I’m here by accident?" You frown, he takes out his phone and unlocks it.

He puts it on the sink, for the past five months he'd known where you live, your job, your friends, and most importantly, where his children were.

"I don’t blame you for leaving, Y/N, I’ve spent every day for the past six years thinking about you and the kids." He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"I’m going to change, I promise, just give me one more chance to show you how I can be a good father for our kids." He caresses your cheek. "For our family."

You would like to scream at him, tell him to leave, but Rafe isn’t stupid. He knows that you won’t because you feel too guilty that the twins don’t have a father.

"Alright..." You say, looking into his eyes. "One and last chance." Rafe smiles and kisses your forehead. "Promise."

Rafe hugs you tightly and gently runs his fingers through your hair.

Rafe knew you were going to say yes, he was sure of it, and anyway, if you had refused, he would have made sure you wouldn’t be allowed near the children anymore.

Having money works that way.

Rafe knows it will take some time for you to no longer be afraid of him, but he will wait because that is what soulmates do. 

They always forgive their other half.

______________________________________________

Hello everyone!

And yes, after several months without news about this fan fiction, I finally write the end!

I'm sorry if the end hasn't pleased you, I don't like it too much either but I tried to do what I wanted the most. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask them to me in private or in request, I'll answer with pleasure <3

taglist 🏷️ :

@rafemotherfuckingcameron @macchili18 @devotedlyelectronicartisan @julesandro

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[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hey ml! Can you do the greasers (separate) with a read who dyes her hair a lot! And changes it up a lot! Thank you!!

Summary: The gang x a reader who dyes their hair a lot

Warning: none

Author's Note: none

PONYBOY CURTIS

Pony has had some crazy run ins with hair dye, from bleaching to having Soda and Steve dye his blond hair red while he was sleeping as a 'prank'

It washed out to a light pink and he was so frustrated. He met you when his hair was still tinted pink, you complimented it despite its bad apply job.

He was so embarrassed that he saw you ( a pretty person ) when he looked like that. He actually stayed away from you for a while until the pink was fully washed out.

Once it was washed out he started talking to you and trying to hang out. He realllllly loves your hair. he likes running his hands through it.

He'll always suggest a new colour for you to try out and will buy boxes of dye for you.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny finds your hair so cool, he didn't know people could get hair in 'unnatural' colours like blue, green, etc.

He likes when you have hair that stands out, like a bright colour or a pattern like skunk highlights etc. He says it makes you easier to find in a crowd.

He really tries to keep you away from his parents though, because they are ultra religious and he doesn't want them to get the wrong impression of you.

His favorite hair colour of yours is blue, he likes it when its really dark because he thinks it really compliments your eyes and makes you look good.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda has never really ( like Johnny ) been around a person with 'unnatural' hair. Mostly because he prefers the middle class parties and not Bucks where a lot of people have dyed their hair to match their party outfits.

He's really enamoured by your hair, constantly touching it (with your permission) because he thinks the dye might rub off onto something else. For example, if your hair is under your jacket, he'll pull it out for you.

He will never EVER let you dye his hair though. He likes it sure but he prefers his natural hair and he thinks his hair could fall out. Maybe when your older though.

Soda likes it when your hair is blonde with hints of green, purple, etc. Pigeon hair basically. He thinks its so cool how it looks metallic and stuff.

STEVE RANDLE

I feel like Steve has tried out hair dye once. He put it over his brown hair so it didn't show up very well, but he had hints of red in his hair for about 5 months.

He loves it when you dye your hair red. He secretly really wants you to dye his hair but knows he cant pull it off like you and his mother would be really unhappy.

He always likes it when your hair is patterned and has hints of red in it, skunk highlights with red for example, he thinks its so tuff and it matches your vibe.

He will let you dye his hair ONCE, with some convincing and the promise of 'it will wash out soon'. He loved it but he's glad it washed out quickly because his mom was on his BACK.

TWO BIT MATHEWS

Two Bit always had a thing for people who dye their hair. Partially because soc girls are unreachable and they dont dye their hair but also because it makes you look badass.

Think Ramona Flowers, he's your scott pilgrim. He's always making sure your hair is healthy and that it doesn't 'fall out' because, in his words, "You won't have anything to dye if you have no hair,"

He loves sitting in the bathroom with you, watching you dye your hair as he drinks a beer. The conversations between you two are always super good when you're together like that.

His sister has seen you around so much that she's asked for pink hair. You and Two Bit sat together with her, putting pink eye shadow in her hair so it would wash out after a day.

DARRY CURTIS

Darry thinks the dark colors make you look extremely sultry and beautiful. He loves it when you do a dark raspberry color or dark blue. He livess for it.

He will never dye his hair though, even if you try to convince him. He's firm on his belief that his natural hair looks best.

He's always been a little curious to what your natural hair colour is though. When you dyed it back to your origional colour he was over the moon happy and thought it looked sooo good.

He also enjoys sitting with you while you dye your hair. He'll even wash out the dye in the sink for you. He likes being connected with you especially while you do something you like.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas has seen so many girls with coloured hair because he practically lives at Buck's parties. However he's never seen someone with hair like yours.

You managed to take care of your hair so it was still silky and smooth but it had such pretty colouring and it was patterned which kinda blew his mind.

He literally was so blown away by how cool your hair was and was really pissed when he saw he wasn't the only one who noticed and that there were a bunch of guys coming to talk to you.

He made it there first tho and struck up conversation. It ended as you two dating!

He'll never dye his hair, he's a bit too insecure for that and doesn't want to look 'less tuff' in anyones eyes. But he'll smoke a cigarette while you dye yours and splash water at you to annoy you.

[yuri-is-online]

I’d like to hear a little about Idia’s Yutu. I bet he was pretty startled to see his hair suddenly catch fire + any other physical changes associated with the curse. (Do you think the yellow eyes and shark teeth are even caused by the curse?)

Idia is a popular boy and I have a lot of thoughts about him in general; I feel like I gave him a lot to deal with in this particular au... Jade is probably having a worse time mentally but Idia has a bunch of work I know he wasn't asking for.

As for the talk about the curse, I kicked it around in my head a bit and I am going to say yes the teeth are caused by it but the eyes are just something Idia got from his parents. I know I talk about thinking there is something wrong with Trey, but I don't think that's because of a curse and his eyes are definitely yellow. Idia's do seem to glow a bit so if you want your Yutu to have different colored eyes I think it would make sense if they had a bit of a glow to them, but that's just me.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For this post, I would recommend reading this explanation of what happened to the boys as Idia has a pretty big role in the bad timeline, and his actions will be somewhat referenced here.

Idia has the benefit and the literal curse of being in charge of S.T.Y.X., meaning that when blot investigations are conducted he tends to be in the know. His Yuu and Yutu should have been safe from anything the Marshall's decided to do but they weren't. Unlike pretty much everyone else in this AU, Idia learns what happened to his family. He knows that Yuu was cursed, he knows they were sent back to their world. But that's about it, he tries to find some sort of way to make contact with your world so he can bring you home but then things go to shit and his progress is severely delayed. By the time he has to help bury Leona it's stopped completely. Ortho tries his best to help, but Idia doesn't really want him to. As much as he wants to see you again, he doesn't want you to have to suffer through any overblots again, nor does he want to raise a child in a dying world.

Sometimes when he is alone, energy drinks scattered around his desk he'll look over to the little digital photo frame he loaded up with pictures of you, from back at NRC all the way up to your wedding and wonders if he should just let you go. There's a chance you being forced to forget about him means you would have moved on, maybe met someone else and had other kids. Was his kid anything like him? He hopes they ended up looking mostly like you, and knowing there is no way for the Shroud curse to reach them does make it slightly easier to sleep at night. He tells himself when he comes back to work tomorrow, he'll put the frame in a drawer along with his wedding ring but he never does. In his mind, he is still your husband, just waiting for fall to come so you can try to be together again. Fall might be another life, but Idia surprisingly doesn't mind. He can wait for you.

Idia! Yutu was a massive crybaby when he was a baby. Very clingy to Yuu and very afraid of his own shadow let alone his teachers and peers. He grows out of the crying as he gets older but not the social anxiety. Yutu wants friends, he just sucks at making them and is extremely stressed out by being around people. I could see Yuu maybe getting an animal of some sort to help with the stress and anxiety their son was feeling. And just by typing that I have become attached to the concept: Ida! Yutu gets a dog Yuu feels inclined to name Cerberus. Yutu adores her and takes very good care of her without any fights about his chores.

Yuu remembers Idia as being more of a cat person, but they tell Yutu they think he really would have approved of Cerb. They remember him as being a socially awkward, but extremely passionate about his work and hobbies. His love of retro games causes a lot of Yuu's cursed pains, they know he liked those sorts of games but they can't for the life of them remember the titles. Yutu tries to reassure his parent it's just nice knowing a little bit about his dad and that he doesn't need the specifics. Hearing about his dad's interests motivates him to learn about emulators as he gets older, and he builds Yuu a nice family computer after scrounging for parts.

Yutu prefers single player or local co-op games, but makes an exception if Yuu has a long term MMO or something like a genshin account because he does like playing with Yuu. It helps soothe his social anxiety to talk to people while he knows his parent and Cerberus are near by, but when they aren't online he's essentially a solo gamer.

Unfortunately for Yutu's potential inner gremlin, Yuu also remembers Idia's shut in tendencies and is determined to get him outside from a very young age. Cerb does her best to help with that too, it's Yutu's job to walk her and he swears she keeps trying to introduce him to people. He's had so many awkward conversations with the people in his neighborhood because of her. His other chore used to be helping out in the little vegetable garden Yuu started to help cut down grocery costs, but that quickly ceased being a chore and became a full blown passion.

Idia! Yutu loves flowers. He fills his windowsills with plants that are safe to be around dogs and has Cerberus help him dig a flower bed around your home so he can plant more of them. Sure the veg garden is nice too, but he loves the significance of and variety that can be found in flowers. If you live in a place that can keep bees then he will absolutely bug you about wanting to get some.

Twisted Wonderland looks horrible to Yutu. It's dark and cold, he's been snapped into a room full of people in a place he doesn't recognize, and his parent has gone non responsive as he tries desperately to shake them awake. He tries snapping at the fancy looking man that comes to help and accidentally bites his tongue, and that's when he notices it.

Mostly because Cerberus tackles him and tries to put him out.

"Owowowowowowowwww-" Yutu tries to push Cerberus back but she keeps whining and trying to lick at his face. She yelps as Yutu catches his breath as he sees what she's trying to paw at. His hair is on fire, or to be more accurate his hair is fire. He can hold it, he can tug at it, it's warm and is not burning his clothes but his hair is on fucking fire-

"STAY." The voice is so commanding that both Cerb and Yutu freeze, the strange man from before with his dual colored hair looks oddly nostalgic at his little command, eyes obviously softening at the dog as he shakes his head. "Good girl, no need to worry. Your little master is ok, he isn't going to combust." Cerberus whines, but she relaxes and Yutu stands shakily. "Though full warning you might feel like you are once I am done explaining things to you."

Idia and Ortho are called to NRC for an emergency and debriefed on their way over. Yuu holds on to life just long enough to speak with Idia a little, the first time Yutu meets his dad the two of them are saying goodbye to a now comatose Yuu. The silence is awkward, but the hold Idia has on Yutu isn't. I like to think that Idia and Yuu had talked about what they would have wanted to name Yutu, and that memory had carried across the world so there was no awkward introduction phase between the two of them. The sort of fall into each others lives immediately, the want for the other to exist overriding anything else.

Cerberus helps too. Idia might be more of a cat person but cute doggies are good too. ESPECIALLY one with such an awesome name, she's the most spoiled girl in the entire apocalypse. She's an old dog at this point, so Idia takes her back to S.T.Y.X. where she becomes a sort of unofficial mascot for the research teams. Idia makes her a uniform and everything. He regularly sends pictures to Yutu while he's busy at school.

Because of Yutu's love of gardening trumping his interest in technology, he ends up in Heartslabyul instead of Ignihyde. He is very embarrassed about this at first (he really hates the uniform) but Idia reassures him that he doesn't care about that. His kid could probably kill someone in front of him and he would not care, especially not at this point. So long as he is able to talk to his child about manga and games he doesn't care what extra circulars they're into. I can't see him being super excited about having to go to sports games, but then again maybe he would just think about it like a sports anime to help psych himself up to go (his kid would obviously be his favorite character).

Bad timeline Idia is a lot calmer than his younger self. He still loses his temper and goes on smug rants, but in general he speaks exactly like he does in book six to the S.T.Y.X. employees. His true personality only really comes out when he's alone with Ortho and Yutu, but he tries to keep his more pessimistic side in check. He wants Yutu to have some hope for the future, but the more he runs the numbers the bleaker things look.

Ortho is beyond excited to have his nephew back. He always liked hanging out with Yuu because of the lack of data he had about them. Every conversation he had with them was unique, and he was really looking forward to having the same experience with Yutu. He was just as if not more distraught than Idia when you both disappeared, so having Yutu back brings a bit more spark to his soul. Yutu was so stressed out from all of the changes he was experiencing that meeting Orhto felt weirdly normal. What's weirder: having an artificial humanoid for an uncle, technically being part alien, having fire for hair, or having a spell that literally opens the gates of hell. Yutu is not taking option one that's for sure.

Ortho and Idia are the ones who propose going back in time, but when it's their Yutu who is making the journey the suggestion is extremely difficult to make. Idia doesn't like the idea of asking his son to do this, it feels selfish. But then, Idia also feels like bringing him into existence before he could break the family curse was selfish, no matter what Yutu was always going to be doomed. But that just means he should be the one taking responsibility for this... Ortho volunteers himself for the mission but Yutu points out that that would probably be even more dangerous than sending him. It's a tearful goodbye, everyone knows that if the missions succeeds this timeline will cease to exist and they will never get to see each other again. They have a little party at NRC and Idia takes Yutu aside to visit Yuu's grave, firstly so they can say goodbye and secondly because he has a confession to make

"I was mega cringe when I was at NRC." His dad can't even look him in the eyes, and Yutu swears he sees him shaking. He has to blink a few times to make sure he is seeing things right, this doesn't look like overworked dad, or stressed dad, or angry at something mundane dad. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was-

"Well isn't everybody?" The tips of Idia's hair turn pink at the question and Yutu's quickly mirrors him from feeling like he's done something wrong. All he's done is repeat his dad's own advice back to him though. "You're always so cool and confident-" Idia wheezes and Yutu almost has to catch him. "I mean I'm sure you can't be bad as me-"

"Oh you are going to regret saying that." His dad can't really bring himself to elaborate further but the thousand yard stare does all the talking for him.

Idia! Yutu was given three very simple instructions by Uncle Ortho about going back in time:

1) don't try to lie to me about who you are, I will run scans and figure it out. Grandma and Grandpa finding out would probably be bad and just complicate things. Easy enough, having Uncle Ortho on his side makes the transition between future and past a lot easier. Current Ortho might be a lot more innocent? Naive? He isn't sure if those are the words he would use, but he is certainly less used to having a soul and being his own person than his Uncle is. Not that this makes him any less accepting of Yutu... if anything he is even more excited about him than he was in the future.

2) try to keep who you are a secret from Yuu, but get close to them. We need them to stay alive, even if we don't know why yet... Less easy than hanging out with Uncle Ortho, but still easy enough. I tend to write all Yutus as not fully realizing how much they missed or loved Yuu until they got to see the younger version of their parent... but out of all of them Idia! Yutu is certainly up there for just how hard it hits him. Mostly because of Rule 3:

3) I am so fucking sorry for what you're going to have to deal with please be patient with me!!! I promise I love you and your parent so much I'm just not going to know-

So that obviously came from Idia and not Ortho, but Yutu really disregarded that warning until he accidentally ran into his dad while trying to find Ortho and saw him take out a tablet? That he used to talk with and got very panicky about when he asked a very simple question about it. Uncle Ortho helpfully tells him later that Idia uses it to help him speak in public because of his anxiety, and is very pleased to learn Yutu has never seen him use it in the future. But that doesn't really change how things are now...

On the one hand, Yutu gets it. He has bad social anxiety himself, but because he had a very supportive parent who worked with him to challenge himself in healthy ways he never got to the point that Idia is. He also was a lot older when he had his first experience with a traumatic loss and had Idia (who is a bit too experienced) and Ortho (who is just so understanding) there to help him through it. He knew that was not the case for his dad, they talked about it a lot in the future because Idia felt like he had a right to know, but I don't think he fully comprehended how bad Idia's mental health was.

Because no matter how much he might get it, this guy is still his dad and Yutu really wants to interact with him. He wants to impress him and maybe finally beat his high score on Star Rogue, Yutu just knows there are a bunch of stories he never got to hear because his dad was too embarrassed to tell him and this is maybe his one chance to find all of them out. But his dad is such a shut in he barely even interacts with Yuu! Yutu was always way too embarrassed to ask him about how they got together and now he swears he'll never know because him being in Ramshackle seems to have scared his dad off.

That's only half true, Idia doesn't really see Yutu as a romantic rival... like Cater he assumes you are related in some way because of the similar appearances and tastes in manga. Even when the two of you deny it he shrugs it off, hey maybe Yutu is just you from a different reality? He thinks he read a manga like that once... either way not his monkey not his circus. But like. It could be, Ortho really does like to remind him that Yuu is much less judgemental than everyone else on campus so if he wanted to make some progress on his journey of self improvement talking to them might not be such a bad idea. wink wink nudge nudge! But going over there still means he has to interact with someone other than Yuu and Mr. Grim and that's stressful.

He doesn't think about it at all when Yutu keeps finding excuses to not be there when Ortho drags him to visit because of how relieved he is to not have to socialize with him, at first anyway. He notices when Ortho excuses himself too, they certainly seem to be buddy buddy which isn't something he's going to complain about but as Idia does get closer to Yuu and *ugh* admits to himself he's got some feelings he starts to feel like he should at least know something about the kid other than his name. He does not completely figure it out, but he notices all of the relevant data points before he's slapped in the face with who Yutu is.

Like Lilia! Yutu's reveal, I think Idia finds out about who Yutu is in the middle of a fight. Yuu gets injured by a really strange blot phatom Idia has never seen before and Yutu absolutely looses it. His hair flares up and for snaps his hood to cinders as he's roaring out spells and trying desperately to make sure that thing doesn't touch his parents. Something you both hear loud and clear.

At first this makes Idia beyond excited. He probably joins the little fit his son is throwing except in raw joy because he's fantasized so much about this! He even has a little sims save where Yuu and him are married and they've got a kid and a cat and wow just look at Yutu he looks even cooler in real life than he does in a life sim! Yuu look at him, you guys have a-

A kid. You have a kid. With him. One that's got his teeth and hair and your nose and is sobbing in his arms about how much he missed you both and doesn't want to watch you die again. The sheer worry eclipses his second hand embarrassment at his own smugness as he awkwardly holds on to the sobbing Yutu and looks towards you for help. He's never been good at this whole emotional comfort thing, pls assist. So you pick yourself up and join the group hug and all three of you just sort of sit there for a bit while Yutu tells his story. About growing up in your world, how he came to NRC and his friends in Heartslabyul (Idia is blaming that on you, as a joke ofc he doesn't care what house his kid is in), and the plan to go back in time because of how hopeless the future is. It's not a story Idia takes lightly, especially when Ortho confirms it and sends him all of the data he and Yutu have collected so far. Idia is a bit gloomy and prone to complaining, but if you are in a bad place there are few people more reliable. He is a lot like death in a way, he'll always be there in the end.

Idia is a bit awkward around Yuu for a bit after the reveal, I like to think of you as being newly together at this point so Idia hasn't really revealed just how... detailed some of his fantasies about you are just yet. There are a lot of them, he has uh. Maybe written some of them down, pleasedon'tmakehimreadthemoutloud and most of them are perfectly normal and respectable (lies). It stops when you tell him Yutu had to come from somewhere and he dies, buries himself under his covers, and rises again a changed man. Yeah that's right, his kid did come from somewhere NORMIES. He had se-

He's not super big into PDA but he is comfortable being clingy around Yutu and Ortho, though he tries not to be overly cheesy around Yutu. He hates seeing his parents be all lovey dovey with one another and he likes to keep his compliments quiet and for your ears only anyway. I do like the idea of Yuu being a tiny bit more outgoing and embarrassing him a bit around "the kids" (Grim and Yutu) so his hair is in a damn near permanent shade of pink any time he's around Ramshackle. It's one thing to have your younger brother think the world of you, but to have a kid think so highly of you that he travels back in time to save you from an apocalypse? Idia feels super unworthy, it fuels his determination to work out the "problem" Yutu has given him even if his natural pessimism makes him want to give up.

"... Just leave it to your dad." It's an echo of the only other promise he 100% intends to live up to. He really does mean it, Idia is not loosing this match. Just you wait and see...

[therand0mwriter]

Bare Your Soul

Alastor Hartfelt x Female!Reader

When the Hazbin Hotels second, more appropriate, commercial was interrupted by the news, Alastor decided to air his original, sarcastic, commercial. What no one expected was for the commercial to actually work.

"ɨ… աǟռȶ ȶօ… ɢɛȶ ȶօ ӄռօա ʏօʊ."

"𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽?"

Chapter 1 - The Hazbin Hotel

[Unedited]

[Update 02.08.24 - since I've had a lot of people come to me, pissed about the fact that I made Alastor's last name Altruist (even though I thought it sounded catchy), I changed it to Hartfelt. Yes, I know his last name isn't confirmed yet, but Hartfelt is the closest thing we'll come to a last name.]

[A/N: (h/c)=hair color, (h/l)=hair length, (h/t)=hair type (wavy, straight, curly, etc.)]

[2nd A/N: When I put (s/c) and (e/c) you can do what ever color you want, you're a demon in this story, have fun with it:)]

*3rd Person POV*

Charlie came back from the meeting with Adam and was feeling down on her luck. She had no idea on how to tell everyone that Extermination Day was now sooner than they expected. But when her girlfriend, Vaggie, came bounding up to her and told her that everyone at the hotel had made a new commercial, her heart swelled and her eyes teared up.

Charlie and Vaggie joined the group in the main area to watch the commercial, but was sorely disappointed when it was interrupted by the news announcing that Extermination Day was pushed up by six months.

Alastor, on the other hand, seized the opportunity. "Well, my dear," He started, standing and turning to Charlie. "I could always air my original commercial. Now that the announcement of Hell's newest problem is out of the way, I'm sure it won't be interrupted by anything. I'll even broadcast it from my radio tower!" He ended with a flourish of his staff.

Vaggie then stood, standing in front of Charlie, "Hold on, can't we just re-air the better commercial?" Alastor's already large grin widened, "I'm afraid not, dear. The agreement was to only show it once!" The one-eyed girl let out an 'ugh', face palming. Charlie stood next to Vaggie and begrudgingly started, "Well, I guess that's all we can do. Go ahead, Alastor."

"Wonderful!" The radio demon shouted before disappearing into his shadow. "Maybe it'll convince someone to come here?" Charlie said to Vaggie, a sheepish grin on her face.

*Time Skip, Next Day*

Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel just finished watching Alastor's original commercial, Alastor's grin more joyous than usual, Vaggie's eye was twitching wildly, Charlie was grimacing, and everyone else had looks of surprise. "I really hope nobody saw that." Vaggie commented, distaste clear in her voice.

*Meanwhile*

In a dark room, where the only source of light was the television, sat a lone woman. She watched with wide (e/c) eyes as a commercial out of place from the other ones started to play.

"Well, hello there you wayward sinner! Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do! That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say if I told you there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer's delusional daughter: Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her  daddy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun things! Such as, somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour pest control. Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here."

The woman muted the TV after the commercial ended, still staring with wide eyes as she processed what she just watched. Eventually, she started to giggle. Then that giggling turned into full blow boisterous laughing. She placed her hand on her forehead, shaking her head until she calmed down. Once she did, she let out a tired sigh, her shoulders drooping. "This might be my only chance." The woman said forlornly, turning off the TV, enveloping the room in darkness.

*Time Skip, Next Day*

At the hotel, Charlie was pacing back and forth as her cat, KeeKee, was also pacing with her, swerving in and out of Charlies moving legs. "Okay! So the extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal! Just a little setback! Nothing we can't handle." At this point in Charlies rambling, KeeKee had run off, most likely finding a place to sleep. Charlie continued her worried rambling, "Just Angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right?! And next time when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!" 

Vaggie came up to her girlfriend and placed her hands on Charlie's shoulders, stopping her in her tracks and her panicked rant, "Yes, we will." Vaggie sent Charlie a comforting smile, but that smile was gone when Angel spoke up, "Oh, please. Ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now," Angel paused, looking down to his phone to see multiple text messages from his boss, Valentino. "Ain't no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is. We just have to look a little harder for it." Charlie responded, a hopeful smile on her face. "Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts." Angel stated, turning his phone to Charlie to show multiple news headlines. "People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

When Charlie leaned forward to look at Angel's phone, a text message popped up. "Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" She questioned, her red eyes squinted in confusion. Angel's eyes went wide and he quickly brought his phone back to him, "Ah! Eh, nothing! My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah," Vaggie started. "That's true. Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" Charlie gasped, a smile growing on her face once more, "This is the prefect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" She ended, throwing her arms up in the air in excitement. "Cute idea and all, but you really going to go out in all of this?" Angel questioned, turning his phone to the two women to show a fire and demons screaming in fear. 

"Well, it's not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep." Charlie said and immediately after a loud explosion sounded, causing the girl to shout in surprise. The three turn to see a hole in the wall next to the bar. They then heard a dramatic voice come from outside, "Show yourself, Alastor! Come and face-" The voice, Sir Pentious, paused, looking from the hole in the wall to the balcony above it from his ship. There, sat Alastor, drinking from a mug that said 'OH DEER' on it. "Oh, there you are. Face my wrath!" Pentious continued. Alastor took a sip from his mug before turning back to the snake demon, "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I? I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villain extraordinaire!" Said demon boasted as Alastor went into his shadow, moving to stand next to Charlie, Vaggie and Angel who had come outside to see the cause of disturbance. One of Sir Pentious Egg Boi's turned to him, "Woo! You tell 'em, boss." 

Niffty had also came out from the hotel, climbing up Alastor's back and gasping with excitement, "Ooo! He's a bad boy." Alastor reached behind him and took ahold of Niffty by her scruff, placing her on the ground, "Huh, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you." Pentious eyes were wide with disbelief, "I attacked you literally last week." The Radio demon tilted his head in confusion, a static hum coming from him. "We've done battle, like... 20 times?" Pentious explained, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Well, you must have been really bad at this." Alastor said, a smug tone in his voice.

"Silence! Now cower!" The snake demon shouted. "For when I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" Niffty had climbed back onto Alastor's back, gasping in excitement once more. She then paused, "Wait, who are the Vee's?" Alastor waved them off, "Oh, nobody important. Now, let's deal with the nobody in front of us." The Radio demon chuckled darkly, static sounding from him as giant black tentacle came from the ground, wrapping around Sir Pentious ship, shaking it.

One of the tentacles smashed into the cockpit, causing Pentious to shout in fear, "Ahh! Please! Stop!" Alastor chuckled at the sight in front of him, his chuckling turning into manic laughter. "Um, Alastor?" Charlie called out, "I think he's had enough." Angel grinned, "Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im."

The tentacles tilted the ship to where Pentious fell out of the cockpit and onto the cement with a crack. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor said, twirling his staff then leaning on it. Pentious slowly lifted one of his arms and slowly spoke, "Thank... you..." He then propped himself up, "For letting your guard down!" He quickly shot his tail out, taking ahold of the corner of Alastor's coat, ripping the edge off. "Haha! Yah!" Pentious shouted with glee, but immediately cowered as Alastor growled with anger, his antlers growing. "Oh, shit!" Pentious said before he was blasted off. He let out a scream of pain as green smoke followed him through the air as he flew.

When Pentious was out of view, Alastor turned to the three behind him, "Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Best of luck, chums!" He turned back around, waving goodbye. Vaggie then stepped forward, "Wait, you're leaving? Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." She stated. Angel added, gesturing to the large hole, "We need a wall." The Radio demon turned back to them, 'Of course! Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" Alastor snapped his fingers, causing six black and white demons to appear from the ground as he walked away.

Angel giggled, pushing Vaggie out of his way as he made his way up to the largest black and white demon. "Hey, sweet cheeks." Angel started in a sultry tone, leaning one of his four arms on the demons shoulder. "What you doing later? I love me a man with a giant..." Angel pause, looking down at the demons crotch. "Tool." The spider demon finished. 

"Um, am I interrupting?" A new voice started. Charlie, Vaggie and Angel look to their left to see a female demon they've never met before. Her hair was (h/l), (h/c) and (h/t), her clear skin was (s/c), and her eyes were a brilliant shade of (e/c). On top of her head was a set of antlers that were decorated in little colorful flowers. The antlers went up and curled into each other, forming the shape of a heart. Also on the top of her head was a set of fluffy (h/c) ears, similar to a deer.

[A/N: Something like this for your antlers. Image does not belong to me.]

"Wow! You look a lot like Alastor!" Charlie said, slightly amazed. The new female raised her eyebrow in confusion, "I'm sorry, who?" Vaggie then stepped in, a cautious tone to her voice, "Um, the Radio demon? You're not related to him, are you?" The new females eyes widened with realization, "Oh! Yes, I've heard of him. Don't worry, we aren't related. Are we that similar?"

Angel went and stood with Charlie and Vaggie, leaving the six black and white demons to do their job. "It's just the antlers and ears y'all got in common." Angel added. The female nodded in understanding and Charlie took a step towards her, a warm smile on her face, "So, what can we help you with?"

"Oh! Yeah!" The she-demons eyes went wide once more, remembering why she was there. She then became nervous, her hold on her suitcase, that the three others just noticed, tightened. "Uh, I saw your guys commercial. About the hotel. And I want to join, if that's okay?" With each word the female spoke, Charlie's grin grew wider and wider until she finally burst.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" Charlie jumped up and down in excitement, running forward to take the she-demons hands in hers. "Yes, yes, yes! Of course you can stay here! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're going to help you get to Heaven! My names Charlie!" The said demon introduced, vigorously shaking the new females' hands. The blonde then stood next to the new she-demon, gesturing to Vaggie and Angel, "That's Vaggie, my girlfriend! And that's Angel Dust! Our other resident!" The two waved a greeting to the new girl, but before she could return it, Charlie was already pulling her inside.

"Here's our bartender, Husk! And over here we have Niffty! She does our cleaning! Oh! And these are my pets! Razzle, Dazzle and KeeKee! Oh! Let me show you all of the floors, the kitchen, the bathrooms-" Vaggie then stepped in front of Charlie, placing her hands on her girlfriends shoulder, "Charlie! Honey, we don't need to show her everything all at once. Take a breath and let her breath." And Charlie did just that, both her and Vaggie turning back to the new female.

"I'm sorry, during Charlie's excitement, we didn't get your name." Vaggie said, both her and Charlie sending a smile to the new female. The she-demon brushed off her dress, calming down from being pulled here and there. She cleared her throat before straightening her back and bowing her head slightly in a formal greeting, "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), It's an honor to meet you, princess Morningstar. Same with you, Vaggie. I hope I can be a good guest and help you achieve your goals."

Vaggie's eye went wide with surprise at how polite this she-demon was being, the only other person she's met that's this kind was Charlie. It made Vaggie a little suspicious. Charlie, on the other hand, was warmed by the greeting as tears swelled in her eyes. Angel then stepped up to the three women, "Wait, you said you saw a commercial. Which commercial did ya see?" Charlie then gasped, "Wait! You saw our commercial?!" The blonde shouted, shaking with excitement.

(Y/N) nodded, small smile on her lips, "Yes, I thought it was quite entertaining in all honesty." Charlie and Angel were confused while Vaggie squinted, "Wait, why was it entertaining?" (Y/N) gained a nervous sweat, "No offense, but I think my favorite part was about Charlie's daddy issues. I have no idea why you added it, but I liked it." She ended with a shrug. "Oh..." Charlie said dejectedly and Vaggie slapped her hand against her forehead. "Ugh, you saw Alastor's commercial." (Y/N) raised her eyebrow in surprise, "Really? I'll have to give him my compliments when I meet him."

Charlie shook her head and smiled again, placing her hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, turning her towards the staircase, "Well, (Y/N), let me show you to your room. And please, just call me Charlie." The blonde said, referring to when (Y/N) called her 'princess Morningstar'.

Vaggie watched the two go up the stairs and disappear around the corner, her eye squinting with suspicion. Angel raised his brow at her, "What's with your face?" Vaggie ignored his comment, "How can someone in Hell be that nice? It doesn't make sense. Somethings gotta be up with her." Angel rolled his eyes at her paranoia, going and sitting back on the couch.

*Time Skip*

*(Y/N)'s POV*

It's been around an hour since you've arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie left you alone for the moment to settle into your room. After you finished placing your last piece of clothing away, you sat on your new bed and sighed, rubbing the area where your shoulder and neck connect. 'Charlie sure is energetic.' You thought to yourself.

Just then, you heard static outside your door. You look and see a shadow move from under the gap. As the shadow disappeared, so did the static. 'What was that?' You thought to yourself. You stood and made your way to your door, opening it and peeking your head out. You saw a red figure round the corner, the sound of static following them. You look around for Charlie, Vaggie, or anyone you could ask about the being you briefly saw. But there was no one in the hallway. 'Well, let's hope curiosity doesn't kill the deer...' You meekly thought, leaving your room and following after the red figure.

When you rounded the corner, you didn't see the figure. You then listened for the static, faintly hearing it. You made your way towards the noise, peeking your head around another corner. You then saw a door that was out of place from the other ones. This one was wooden, and had a small window near the top. Then, a light flickered on above the wooden door. You look and see it's an 'ON AIR' sign.

You thought back to when you first got to the hotel. On the outside was what looked to be a broadcasting tower, you just didn't think it was still functional from how it was leaning away from the building. "Salutations! Good to be back on the air!" You then heard a voice that sounded like it was coming from an old-timey radio say. 'Is that Alastor?' You thought, your curiosity growing. 'What does the infamous Radio Demon look like?'

Without thinking, you approached the door and pulled it open to see a metal flight of stairs leading up. "Yes I know it's been awhile since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast, sinners rejoice!" You heard, what you assumed to be, Alastor say. You continued up the stairs, hearing a new voice you didn't recognized. This voice was clear, as if he was speaking to you in person, "What a dated voice!"

When you got to the top, you were met with another door, but this one was left ajar. "Instead of a clout chasing mediocre video podcast!" You heard Alastor say. You peek through the opening of the door and finally laid your eyes on him, The Radio Demon. He had pale skin, red eyes, short red hair that turned black for the last few inches, deer like ears that were larger than mine sat atop of his head, a set of antlers that were smaller than mine also accompanied his ears, and a large, sharp tooth yellow grin.

He wore a red suit and monocle, his bowtie, gloves, pants and shoes being black (accented by red). In his hand was his staff that, what looked to be, an older version of a microphone. "Come on!" The unknown voice shouted. "Is Vox insecure pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?" Alastor responded smugly into his staff, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"Ignore his chirping!" The second voice, Vox, shouted once more, sounding irritated. "Every day he's got a new format." The Radio Demon added. "You're looking at the future, he's the shit that comes before that!" The TV demon bellowed with a singing tone. Unfortunately for him, his comment didn't bother Alastor one bit. "Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vee's!" Alastor sang back, his comment causing you to smile in amusement. "Oh, please!" Vox said, not knowing a better comeback. 

"And here's the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team-" Alastor was interrupted by panicked Vox, "Hold on!" But the Radio Demon continued to sing into his staff, leisurely leaning back in his chair, "I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" You had to cover your mouth to keep the giggle bubbling in your throat from slipping out.

"You old timey prick! I'll show you suf-suffering!" Vox's voice started to glitch. "Uh oh! The TV is buffering!" Alastor teased, propping his head on his hands. "I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u you little-" Before Vox could finish his sentence, he cut out, along with all of the power in Hell. You jumped in surprise at the sudden darkness coming from outside, but also at the fact that the only place that still had power was the broadcasting tower.

"I'm afraid you've lost your signal." Alastor continued, leaning forward, the air in the tower becoming sinister. "Let's begin, I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone." With every word he sang, Alastor's antlers grew along with his malicious grin. "Tune on in. When I'm done," Alastor stood from his seat, his form growing larger and more lanky. The red in his sclera turned pitch black, only his iris staying red. What looked to be red stitching started to appear all over his body and clothes, making him resemble a voodoo doll. "Your status quo will know its race is run," Red liquid started to leak from his mouth. "Oh this will be fun!" Alastor ended with a maniacal laugh, his pupils turning into little radio dials.

'So this is him... The Radio Demon.' You didn't know if you should be scared shitless or amazed by his power. Alastor returned to his normal form, taking a sip of his tea. He then suddenly spoke up, "Are you going to join me or just keep watching me from the shadows?" Alastor turned to the door, and I instantly knew he was talking to me. 'He's a powerful demon, of course he noticed me.' You thought, mentally face palming. You noted that he still sounded like he was speaking through a radio. 'How strange, but fitting for the Radio Demon.' You pushed the door open and stepped in, "I apologize, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

*3rd Person POV*

"I apologize, I didn't mean to eavesdrop." When the she-demon stepped in, Alastor paused, taking in her looks. (H/l) (h/c) hair, (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, deer ears, and antlers in the shape of a heart with flowers. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that stopped mid-thigh, with small black buttons on the top of the dress, along with a thin black bowtie that sat above her exposed chest (but of course not exposing anything indecent). She also wore white tights, covering the skin on her legs. On her feet were black Mary Jane heels that completed her outfit. 'How strange,' Alastor thought. 'She doesn't look half bad.'

[A/N: Something like this for your dress. Image does not belong to me.]

Alastor stood and made his way to the girl, "It is no problem, my dear! I broadcasted it for all of Hell to hear. Did you at least enjoy it?" He then twirled his staff in a flashy manner. The she-demon nodded, a small smile adorning her (thin/plump) lips, "Yes, I thought it was entertaining." Alastor's never-leaving smile widened at her words and he straightened his coat, "The names Alastor! Alastor Hartfelt! And who do I have the pleasure of being in the presence of?" He held out his hand to her, bending his body slightly to meet her height.

She stared at his hand, then back up to meet his eyes. Alastor tilted his head at her hesitancy. She started to stutter, embarrassed when she realized she had been staring, "S-Sorry, it's just that your eyes are much brighter up close." Before Alastor could respond or even think about her comment, she took ahold of his hand, shaking it. "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), it's an honor to meet you. I am the newest resident of the Hazbin Hotel." She said, slightly bowing her head in respect.

Before she could take her hand back, Alastor brought it up to her lips, leaving a kiss on her knuckles, "Please, dear! The pleasure is all mine!" When he let go of her hand, (Y/N) placed both of her hands behind her back, out of sight to Alastor as she rubbed her knuckles. Alastor discreetly pursed his smiling lips afterwards, both of the demons thinking:  'Why did that burn?'

"So," Alastor started, tilting his head again. "You're the newest resident? How did you come about the hotel?" To his surprise, she started to chuckle. "I actually saw your commercial, and I have to say, I found it quite hilarious." She giggled, placing her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter at bay. Both Alastor's eyes and smile widened with glee, "That was the goal, dear! I'm so glad you liked it! But I have to say, I am surprised it made you want to come here."

At his words, (Y/N)'s laughter halted. Alastor took note of her mood change. "Yes, well, you did say in your commercial that this was a path to redemption. Even if it is misguided," She let out a soft chuckle at the memory. "I want to get into Heaven." Alastor hummed, "Why do you want to go to Heaven?" (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond, but then shut it. She thought for a moment, a mental battle clear on her face. Eventually, she gave Alastor a strained smile, "Personal reasons."

Alastor hummed again, 'Interesting...' He thought. "Very well!" Alastor started, twirling his staff once more. He then moved to the door, holding it open. "Shall we? I'm sure Charlie hasn't finished giving you the tour yet. We don't want her to be disappointed at your sudden absence." (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes widened and she took quick steps to the door, "Ah, you're right! It's rude to be late!" 

As (Y/N) made her way down the stairs, she missed the way Alastor looked at her. His head was tilted and his eyes were squinted. 'What an anomaly.' He thought right before following her.

*Time Skip*

Charlie had just finished giving (Y/N) the full tour of the hotel, with Alastor accompanying them and making little sarcastic remarks here and there, making (Y/N) chuckle (much to Charlie's dismay). "Well, what d'ya think!?" Charlie asked, grin large and holding her arms out wide, gesturing to the hotel.  (Y/N) nodded, small smile on her lips, "It's nice." At her words, the blonde squealed, "Ah! I'm so glad you like it!" She then took ahold of (Y/N)'s  hands in hers, "Trust me, (Y/N)! I'll do everything in my power to get you redeemed and into Heaven!" 

Alastor took in the doe demons expression and could easily tell she was uncomfortable at her personal space being invaded. But, she continued to smile. "Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate your effort." She said, making the princess jumped in happiness. 

Just then, Charlie's phone went off with a notification. She looked at the message and gained a mischievous grin. "Oh, (Y/N)!" Charlie said in a sing-song tone, "There's something waiting for you in the foyer!" The blonde started to make her way, skipping in excitement while Alastor and (Y/N) followed behind at a leisurely pace. 

The doe demon sighed, but smiled nonetheless, "It's a welcoming party, isn't it?" Alastor looked to her through the corner of his eye, seeing her looking straight ahead at Charlie with a tired fondness. "How could you tell?" Alastor asked, already knowing the answer. (Y/N) softly chuckled, "Charlie is easy to read." The Radio Demon found this interesting. Then a question formed in his mind. He needed to gather more intel on this strange being. "Am I easy to read?"

Finally, (Y/N) looked up at him through her (long/short) lashes, her lips still holding that small smile, "No, you're an anomaly."

Alastor halted in his steps, staring at the doe demons figure as she got smaller and smaller, still following Charlie. When both of their figures disappeared around the corner, Alastor felt like he could finally breath. Multiple thoughts ran through his, now panicked, mind.

'Who is she?'

'Why is she here?'

'Can she read my mind?'

'She has to be fucking with me.'

'There has to be more to her.'

'She must be playing dumb.'

"Alastor? Are you still joining us?" The male snapped his head up to see just the person he was freaking out about. (Y/N) had stepped back around the corner, her eyebrow raised in question. 'Well you know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer...' Alastor thought before disappearing into his shadow just to reappear next to the girl, making her jump in surprise. "Of course, dear! I apologize if I kept you waiting." (Y/N) smiled in response, "It's alright. No need to apologize." 

The two then finished the walk to the foyer in silence, being greeted by a loud 'Surprise!' when they made it to their destination. There was a large banner that said: 'Welcome (Y/N)!' in different colored paint, the bar was decorated in hearts, there was a table full of food and the center pieces were bouquets of wild flowers, on a different table were various card and board games, and next to the couch was a... karaoke machine.

Alastor noticed how (Y/N)'s shoulders dropped when she laid eyes on the singing machine. He leaned down to her height, "What's the matter, dear? Don't like to sing?" (Y/N) shook her head, "No, not really. I don't sing." There was another thing Alastor found interesting about her. Every one in Hell sang, even him.

Charlie came bounding up to both of the deer demons, "So, (Y/N)! It's your party! What would you like to do first?" The girl looked around and noticed everyone's eyes on her, waiting for her response. "U-Um, why don't you guys get a game of cards started while I go get a drink?" Charlie smiled and nodded, her, Vaggie and Angel heading to the game table. (Y/N) made her way to the bar and Alastor watched her every move. 

"What will ya have?" Husk questioned, his tone bored. "Do you have any wine or whiskey?" (Y/N) asked, taking a seat. "No to the wine, and for the whiskey, we only have the cheap stuff." Husk responded, gesturing to the bottles behind him. "Oh," (Y/N) hummed, thinking about what else she should order.

Alastor disappeared into his shadow, reappearing next to the doe demon, making her jump in surprise once more. "I believe I might be able to help you!" Alastor said. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a bottle of whiskey from his personal stash that was already 1/4th gone. (Y/N) squinted her eyes to read the label, and when she saw what it was, her eyes went as wide as saucers. "No way!" She started, looking from the bottle to Alastor. "Macallan 1926?! How did you get that?!" Alastor chuckled, pleased at how she knew how valuable the alcohol was, "I have my ways, darling. I only bring this out for special occasions, so consider this a welcoming gift, from me to you."

[A/N: Fun fact, a bottle of Macallan 1926 is worth over two million dollars.]

When Alastor reached behind the bar and took two brandy glasses, Husk took that as his que to leave, taking a bottle of the cheap whiskey and joining the others. Alastor filled the glasses a third of the way, gently sliding one over to (Y/N). She looked at it with furrowed brows, turning her gaze to Alastor, "Are you sure I can have this?" The Radio Demon tilted his head in confusion, "Do you not want it?" 

(Y/N) vigorously shook her head, not wanting to offend the male. "No! Of course I do... It's just, I don't feel like I'm worth it..." She ended her sentence, playing with the base of the glass in a nervous habit. Alastor's head stayed tilted, wondering what the girl had done to make herself feel too guilty to accept a drink. Alastor then straightened up, taking his glass in his empty hand, "Well, believe it or not, I think you're worth it. If I didn't, I wouldn't be offering you this drink now, would I?" He ended with a laugh. (Y/N) looked up at him with wide doe eyes, surprised at the Radio Demon's kind words. She gave him a genuine smile, "Thank you, I appreciate it, Alastor." 

Something ticked inside of the males mind at finally seeing a smile that reached the doe demons (e/c) eyes and how his name sounded coming from her voice. 'How strange,' He thought. 'I'll dissect that later.' Alastor went and stood next to the girl, offering her his left arm, "Shall we? Everyone is waiting for us." (Y/N) kept her smile, standing and linking her right arm with Alastor's, her drink in her left hand, "We shall."

[A/N: let me know if I missed changing any 'Alruist' to 'Hartfelt']

[skay-ali]

the witch's revenge

I have a reader draft with a demon possessing her, the idea is that she basically made a deal to continue living, where she would help the demon with his evil plans in exchange for staying alive. Maybe get revenge on his family, showing them that he was better now. Jennifer's body

You had everything figured out.

Every little step.

You had many resources, not only monetary resources from your followers and your sponsor, but also the necessary influence.

Many people from the underworld supporting you.

It was assumed that with your ritual, Halloween, when a red moon would appear, would be your great opportunity.

At last you would have what your heart longed for most, the same wish that you asked the shooting stars, the one that you recited when you made incantations and spells since you were a small and inexperienced witch.

The day you gathered enough evil from the lowest places, you turned many cities guarded by heroes upside down.

At midnight when everything went dark, and the evil of each person floated towards your new scepter.

The song that you recited, oh the great song that you strove to memorize.

Everything was fine in a moment, the portal would have opened and soon you could make a pact, to save your mother.

Until it wasn't anymore, some supers appeared, not even the barrier of villains that surrounded you could contain them.

It was unfair, you weren't hurting anyone, you were saving them from their evils in exchange for benefiting you.

Thanks to you, many popular villains calmed down, your spells made them more docile.

Why didn't they let you have what you always wanted?

You were angry, upset, you wanted them to leave right then and there.

Your pain worsened when balls of purple energy were directed towards where you were, and a woman with her glowing fists also tried to hit you.

They wanted to keep you, they wanted to destroy your only source of happiness.

Maybe it was the evil that you were handling that took over you, or all the anger that you contained, but now... now you would let him govern you.

You let your scepter expel a great shadow so that the heroes would be lost.

A lot of lightning bolts followed, in all directions.

That would keep them a little busy, while they try to avoid them.

But that was not enough, you built with your magic and the things that surrounded you into monsters that would attack them.

"OH I'm sorry but you're not invited to the party" you mock them when you were able to hold them back.

You watched as the entire sky took on a red color.

"If he opens the portal he will endanger the world, you shouldn't play with demonic forces!"

"I'm sorry I don't think I heard you demon girl, I'm trying to make one of yours my pet" you ignored the caped girl laughing at her.

You feel more and more the adrenaline of hating your body. Right on cue, more heroes appeared but this time they looked like young adults.

With them the other heroes were able to control your warriors, and also attack you. Some dates tried to get through you but nothing you couldn't avoid.

"Damn, I think they have me" you raised both your hands in surrender.

You saw how they let their guard down for a moment.

"Well that would be like that, if they defeated my true warriors" you smiled evilly.

At that moment, many other villains noticed that they owed you some favors and wanted to compensate them by fighting for you. With them watching your back, you focused on your last steps to see your mother again.

You took out all the souls of the witches you killed, they were offerings to the demon that had your mother.

You knew that they could, in a good mood, take revenge on the witches who mocked him and got away with it, having them as his servants would brighten his day.

Like an angry dog ​​receiving a treat to have it on your side.

But other annoying bugs had to appear just when you put the souls inside the portal.

This was already the height of your patience, your sanity could no longer continue as before, all your madness came out.

You began to attack with your scepter directly at each person who approached you. mercilessly, you had previously been lenient about the idea of ​​harming someone.

But you couldn't afford that luxury anymore, not when your plan was in danger of being destroyed.

You reached your turning point. Your body is starting to get tired, time was running out.

With everything you had you continued with your ritual.

Even if blood began to slide down your nose and red tears that burned in your eyes spilled.

But a big blow knocked you out, making you lose your concentration and sending you to the floor, sending your scepter flying away.

As soon as you opened your face you saw that the blood moon began to disappear.

You crawled, gathering all your strength, even if your body hurt, even if the impact of the blow was still present in your body, you continued.

Reciting weak spells to defend yourself. When you reached your precious scepter without strength, you no longer felt power within it.

"Nooo" it was over with all the fights you had and because of the ritual. When you saw the portal, you noticed that it had already disappeared, along with your sacrifice and the opportunity to have your mother back.

"NONONO BECAUSE YOU DON'T ANSWER" you shook your scepter many times desperate for it to work again, you could use a time spell, stop going back, so that the blood moon would appear again, of course that would shorten your life and you would surely be punished but no longer you cared "nooo let go of me" you struggled with the hands that held you. No matter how much you kicked, scratched, bit and screamed you couldn't keep them away. You cried... you cried very loudly, as if something was hurting you deeply, as if you had been stabbed very hard, and you screamed at the top of your lungs, until you were hoarse. You did it until your eyes became blurry, and your energy was gone, you passed out.

Your dream, your desire, seems finished... there was no longer anything that moved you, you give up, you let the world finish you once and for all... as it should always have been.

You woke up alone in an unknown room, lacking natural light, only artificial light from the spotlights that illuminated an annoying white light. everything was white and colorless, devoid of life.

Your clothes were too, you didn't wonder how you had them, you let things flow... you wouldn't worry about anything anymore... you wouldn't do anything anymore... you would just exist.

You cried a lot without stopping, not that you wanted to, but the sadness that was in your heart would not go away.

With your magic you swallowed some things, a book, a record player, some depressing music records, cherry liquor and some cigarillos. With those things you waited patiently.

Someone would appreciate it, those cameras in your room were a sign, next to the black window where you couldn't make out what was behind.

You blew smoke into your mouth, elegantly holding the cigarette in your fingers and looking at the white window trying to find something in it.

Your idea was actually to terrify or make the hair stand on end of whoever was looking at you.

You played with your hair from time to time, it's a real shame that it returned to its current color, you could use magic to change it but you didn't feel up to it.

A lot of black locks, aghh you hated the color, your aunts always said that it was your father's color and that you had many of his traits, although you couldn't change those traits much because of how annoying and complex it was, the hair was one.

Everything was boring, until a girl enters your room, she sat in one of the chairs that was at a table.

And he started to question you, you didn't answer him, you just paid attention to your cigarette.

That is until she had the audacity to get into your brain, you wouldn't let her get away with that, no one messes with your head, except you.

You let him examine whatever he wanted. a small spell when she committed a vast oversight, to make her forget what she saw and tell her other things, something terrifying and traumatizing, although you did not take pity so much and made her feel your same sadness, you were not a villain to traumatize a teenager for life .

Her tears were present, you just watched her cry with your cigarette in her lips, trying not to do the same.

But you failed, you also shed tears with the girl.

The next ones who tried the same thing were also unsuccessful.

until you felt a presence that you distinguished well.

“hello demon girl see you again” you smiled.

[ghost-proofbaby]

you showed me colors (eddie munson x fem!reader)

"YOU SHOWED ME COLORS YOU KNOW I CAN'T SEE WITH ANYONE ELSE."

summary: the soulmate au based on "illicit affairs" by taylor swift that almost no one asked for.

warnings: ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, strategic use of pet names, allusions to sex but none described, reader is referred to as a girl a few times, no use of Y/N, canon compliant. not really edited (cause i'm not putting myself through this shit again).

wc: 15.1k+

a/n: im genuinely sorry for once. blame @abibliophobiaa and @breddiemunson for this. also, thank you @hellfire--cult for helping me with the header!!! please take all those warnings very seriously. please. (also shout out to ash who got her own divider sort of so she'd know when to stop reading because my baby doesn't like angst 😅)

The first thirteen years of your life, you only had second hand accounts to trust when it came to colors. 

The sky is blue, soft and dreamy, nearly translucent until grey wisps of clouds would overrun it on stormy days (although, the clouds, you could make out). Most grass is green, verdant and rich as it sprouts from the hard dirt. Even the yellowing strands are most likely gorgeous, a sign of life and death, a sign that someone once stood atop the green and held their ground. Roses come in a rainbow of shades, but everyone seems to adore the staunch red ones the best. The plush pink of a lover’s kiss-bitten lips, the warm brown fur of the dogs you passed by on the street, the deep violet of the plums your mother proclaimed as her favorite fruit. A range of colors you had only ever heard of, never experienced yourself. 

For thirteen years, all you had was stories. Nothing tangible, nothing solid in your palms. Mere crumbs of a promise of what you would have one day, when you met your soulmate.

When you met him. 

It wasn’t the most pleasant of circumstances in which you two met. You’d spent a lot of your childhood fascinated with the concept and lost in daydreams about it – maybe they’d be a stranger you caught the eye of on the train, or maybe they’d be the one making your coffee at a quaint cafe in a big city someday. Whoever they would be, you wanted them to be made of all the fairytales. You wanted a meeting to challenge every romantic story you’d been fed through your youth, you wanted a love that would shake the very Earth you wandered from the first time your eyes met theirs. 

Your reality seemed as far from earth-quake inducing as they could get, at the time. Looking back, though, you wish you could plead and change your youthful mind. Because the day wasn’t perfect, the situation was terrible shades of melancholy, but none of that really matters; what matters is that on that sunny Wednesday afternoon, you met him. 

Scraped knees. You had scraped knees, sitting embarrassed and frazzled beneath a tree as you tried to sink into the shade surrounding its base and erase the memory of what had just transpired. You could still hear all the other kids’ taunts echoing through your mind, cruel and unnecessary words that were suited to follow you the rest of your days. Comments on your looks and teases of things you couldn’t change. Seeds of insecurity that were hard to swallow at the beginning of your teen youth. 

You were still picking at the edges of your open wounds with slow drying tears still coating your cheeks when his shadow joined the tree’s. 

“Are you alright?” 

You looked up immediately to find a boy standing there. Your eyes had traveled slowly, taking in his baggy jeans with patchwork knees and his oversized faded t-shirt first. Even with the hand-me-down clothes, you could recognize his gangly limbs beneath it all. A frail frame and hunger-panged face. An overgrown buzz cut, no doubt prickly as the hairs stood to attention. Sunken in eyes brimming with concern for you. Whatever shade they were, they had to be dark; they were nearly black in the shades of grey your eyes could currently pick up on.

The thing about soulmates, is the colors don’t happen until you touch your soulmate. 

“I’m fine,” you stubbornly replied, wrapping your arms around your shins and tucking your knees beneath your chin despite the sting. 

“You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking.” 

He threw his hands up defensively, shrugging a bony shoulder, “Sorry.” 

He wasn’t sorry. Even with the wince that graced his face, he wasn’t sorry for checking in on you. You knew it the moment you caught the broken skin on his knuckles, nearly matching the cuts on your knees. You had fallen on the pavement as you’d tried to run away from the bullies, determined to not let them see you cry. The entire ordeal had been mortifying. You wished you would have just stood there and cried, let them hear your sobs and let them crown you the school’s newest crybaby. 

“What happened to your hands?” you sniffled, moving to wipe at your nose. Your cheeks were drier now, the skin nearly stiff where the tears marks remained. 

When you mentioned it, he suddenly shot his hands out before him, flexing each hand for emphasis as he looked down with boredom, “What? The cuts? Carver has sharp teeth, ‘s all.”

“Carver?” One of the kids who had just partaken in tormenting you. 

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, suddenly plopping himself onto the ground beside you. You flinched and he grimaced in a silent apology once more, “I think he was in the middle of saying something when I punched him, but that’s not surprising. He always has his big mouth open-” 

He was cut off mid-insult by a soft snort of laughter. Looking up, all of the previous annoyance at his injured knuckles melted away as he caught you fighting back your laughter. 

“What? I say somethin’ funny?” he was biting back his own grin, raising an eyebrow. 

You only laughed more, shoulders shaking now with entertainment rather than sobs. “I- Yeah, sorry, I just- God, you’re right. Carver does have a big mouth.” 

“The absolute biggest.”

“Bigger than the Atlantic ocean.”

His chuckling joined yours, along with a face splitting grin and eyes that you swore shone between the monotonous tones. “God, bigger than the fucking Pacific ocean. Every ocean, as a matter of fact.” 

You both leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, just close enough you could feel his heat through the summer air but not quite touching. Not yet. You let the back of your head thump against the trunk and tried to not think about any of the debris sure to end up in your hair. 

“So…” you sighed once the two of you composed yourself from your laughing fits, “I’m assuming you punched Carver?” 

He only nodded in answer.

“Can I ask why?”

Part of you wanted to assume that the two events were connected; Carver bullying you, and this boy punching him. But you didn’t want to make such a bold assumption about some stranger. Fellow peer or not. 

“Because he made fun of you.” 

The assumption wasn’t so bold. Your chest constricted, you remembered the sting of your knees, heard the echoes of the other students’ laughter at your fall once more. 

“You punched him just because he made fun of me?” you tried to force out a joking tone, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if it wasn’t making your heart swell, “You don’t even know me.” 

“Doesn’t matter. He made fun of you,” the boy said with concrete decisiveness. There wasn’t a quiver of doubt to be seen, as if the logic made perfect sense to him. Your heart swelled more, painfully so. He looked down at one of his hands for a moment, before suddenly shrugging and rolling his head to look at you, sticking it out towards you, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

A certain security blanketed the moment. This kid, Eddie, had punched a guy for making fun of you. You’d never even spoken to him before that day, much less would you have considered bruising your own knuckles for him. But he had for you. Without hesitation, apparently. Just some boy with a sliver of a gap still between his front teeth, a promise of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and blood on his hands as a reminder of your honor. 

Teachers were certainly going to be coming to find the two of you soon. There would be consequences, most likely more on Eddie’s part than yours, but that didn’t matter. There, in the shade of an oak tree of a middle school you’d soon be departing only to join the ranks of some awful high school with bigger and badder bullies, with larger and crueler problems than skinned knees, you had a friend. 

“I’m-” you started, reaching out your hand to meet his halfways. But you stopped, because the moment your palm met his, it happened. Suddenly, quickly, unexpectedly. It nearly gave you an instantaneous migraine; the flood of color was so overwhelming. 

The first color you saw was the soft, whiskey brown of his eyes. Two warm and comforting orbs, blown out to be as wide as your own, as his face echoed back the same shell-shock on your own. His eyes were brown. Not grey, not black, but something more, something russet. Brown. 

Colors. You were seeing colors for the first time. You both knew what it meant. 

“You,” he breathed out with a boyish grin, letting you catch the pink of the tip of his tongue as he finished your introduction for you, both of your excitement buzzing in the breeze, “are my soulmate.” 

—

Fifteen was the age of awkwardness. Thirteen had been awful, sure, full of changes and growth and such, but fifteen made it seem like a cake walk. 

You wouldn’t have survived it without Eddie. 

Two years into the friendship, the two of you were inseparable. You had always spent your entire childhood assuming that when you found your soulmate, it would all fall into place, romantically speaking. But then Eddie happened. Eddie, your soulmate, fell right into your lap and you realized all of your childish dreams were pale in comparison. 

He was your best friend first and foremost. Even if he hadn’t been revealed as your soulmate on that day, you have no doubt that the trajectory of your friendship would have stayed on this path. From the beginning, both of you decided to Hell with society’s expectations of soulmates. Sure, most people didn’t find their soulmates until later in life, when it made sense for the sparks of romance to fly instantly, but the adults still seemed to expect that when the news broke. Your parents had been concerned, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had been weary, your teachers had been blatantly confused. 

It was fun for the two of you, though. The thrill of introducing each other as, “This is my best friend. Oh, also my soulmate, but, hey. Technicalities, am I right?” 

Most of the kids in your grade hadn’t met their soulmates quite yet, especially those first few years. A sense of superiority sprouted in both of you to be able to know, to experience, to lavish in a world of color. To have the weight of finding your better part lifted off your shoulders so soon in life. 

You and Eddie had an entire lifetime to figure out the romantic aspect of it all. For now, he was your best friend, and you were his, and that was enough. 

Once you two had entered high school, one thing did become very clear: the parading of being soulmates had to cease. 

Jason Carver had been enough of a menace in middle school, but grew into a fully formed monster once he joined your ranks in high school. People were not kind to Eddie – they hadn’t been in middle school, when he first moved to Hawkins, and they weren’t going to change their tune suddenly in high school. The bullying you had endured had begun to fade, but his age of torment had just begun. 

You never once left his side. It didn’t matter to you if the entire school knew you were soulmates or not. It didn’t even matter that you two were soulmates; he was your best friend, and you would be damned before you left him to battle the tides alone. 

“I hate this,” he mumbled as he sat on the toilet of his shared bathroom with Wayne in their trailer, you kneeling between his legs as you blotted at his split lip with an alcohol wipe, “I should have punched the asshole back.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you scowled, furrowing your brows even deeper in concentration, “And stop talking – you’re making it worse.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you quieted him with a glare. 

Just as you wouldn’t have survived the Age of Awkwardness without Eddie, he wouldn’t have survived it without you. 

You finished cleaning off the dried blood before tossing the wipe into the overfilled trash can, sighing heavily as you fell back onto the ground and supported yourself against the wall opposite of him. 

You leveled each other into a staring contest, eyes blankly boring into each other with emotionless expressions. 

“You’re lucky Wayne isn’t home, y’know,” you finally broke the silence, shooting a hand out to grab his ankle and give it a squeeze, “He’d probably be driving down to the school right now and-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved you off, shaking his head, “I know. Trust me, I know. I think Principal Higgins is starting to hate him more than he hates me.” 

“Principal Higgins doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re right – he loathes me.” 

The hand that was squeezing his ankle quickly traveled up to his knee to slap it, “Eddie.” 

He raised his hands up in the air, lifting his brows for emphasis as he exclaimed, “What? You know I’m right, kid.” 

Kid. The loving nickname Eddie had adorned you with the moment he found out he was a mere six months older than you. You hated it, and he loved that you hated it. 

“The day you’re right is the day pigs fly, old man.”

Old man. The nickname that served as your attempt at a rebuttal. It didn’t work, not as intended. 

He chuckled softly at that, as he usually does when you call him that, and only smacked his palms onto his thighs, “Well, doc, I must say – you’ve done an exquisite job. Am I free to go?” 

You tried to fight your smile, tried to linger in the anger sparked from seeing Eddie hurt. Your disdain wasn’t directed at him; it was always a loaded gun pointed at whoever dared to lay a hand on your boy. You probably could have had a spotless reputation without Eddie Munson in your life, but you’d found your fists quick to fly in his defense. 

Your parents hated it. Wayne secretly adored it, even when he’d still join in scolding you and Eddie alike on avoiding violence. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, before grabbing his calves through denim to stop him. Dark blue denim, a deep shade of navy that you still hadn’t grown used to seeing. You hadn’t even realized jeans came in so many different shades until you met Eddie, and you’d always chastised him when he’d opt for a boring black pair, “But first, a payment is required.”

“A payment?” Eddie tilted his head, looking down at you curiously.

“A payment.” 

“And what would this payment be?” 

“A movie night,” you grinned wildly, finally letting your grip on him go, taking in the chestnut highlights of his curls and the red font of his t-shirt, a band shirt you’d never heard of but that he had recently gotten into, “Snacks provided by my loving host, you, of course.” 

He exaggerated his pondering, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking dramatically. As if he was ever capable of saying no to you. 

“Hm,” he hummed, his voice echoing through the tiny space and encasing you in warmth. As serene as that first summer day when he’d taken the leap of sitting down next to you in the grass, back to a tree, palm in your palm as colors had swarmed your vision, “I suppose that can be arranged.” 

—

Movie nights were a frequent occurrence. A sanctuary from the shit show of your small town. Sometimes, they had been the illusion of a bargain like that night, and others, they were an unspoken agreement. You’d show up to Eddie’s trailer or he would end up on your doorstep, your favorite candies in hand, and the two of you would just know. No words needed as you’d situate yourself on whoever’s couch, legs intertwining and blankets shared across laps. A bowl of popcorn that usually ended up being spilled inevitably. 

Movies were more fun in color. Some of your friends didn’t get it, still living in a world of black and white, but Eddie loved to listen to your rambles about how the vivid shades appeared across the screen. He loved the way your eyes would light up passionately, he loved how you still smiled so widely at special effects that were made more poignant by this gift the two of you had been given. 

Time. You two had been given the time most soulmates weren’t allotted. A gift you always thanked the Universe for. 

The latest Slasher film that had been released was currently displayed on the small television in Eddie’s living room, the two of you practically molded to the worn cushions of his sofa. Wayne had left within the first ten minutes for his shift, bidding the two of you a farewell with the warning of behaving. Vibrant reds splashed across the screen as one of the protagonists takes a stabbing, and while you should be shying away from the gruesome scene, you can’t help but stare in awe.

Even after years of experiencing colors, they took away your breath.

“Jesus,” you sighed wistfully, “How do they even make the fake blood? It’s so… so…”

“Red?” Eddie laughed from the other side of the couch, prodding at your thigh with his sock clad foot, “Probably food dye. Maybe some corn syrup.”

“It’s just so bright,” you eagerly leaned in closer to the TV, squinting with a wide smile, unaware of his stare. 

He was quiet for a moment, simply enjoying your joy. Your awe and wonder at the world, the way it seemed as if you two had just met that day rather than years before. As if colors were still a fascinating color to you. Eddie had grown used to them, let them become a part of his daily routine, but you always seemed to shine a new light on them for him. 

Around you, all the colors seemed a little bit brighter. 

“How do you do that?” he whispered so softly, it nearly got lost in the noise of the movie’s climax.

You hummed in response, eyes never leaving the screen. You were watching the movie in fascination, and he was watching you in serenity. 

His miracle. His gift. His soulmate. 

“You just…” he trailed off, no longer caring about the movie, “You always treat them like they’re brand new.” 

It caught your attention. The way his tone was so… velvety, so caring, so affectionate. You looked at him, “I treat what like they’re brand new?” 

“The colors.”

“Because they are.” 

The same assuredness as he used that very first day. As if it were obvious, as if it were simply a matter of fact and not such an endearing trait. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it only made his heart clench tighter. 

You were his soulmate. 

“We lived without them for thirteen years, old man-”

“Thirteen years and six months, in my case,” he piped up in interruption, wearing a Cheshire grin. 

You nodded and rolled your eyes, “Yes, in your case. Thirteen years, give or take. I just… I don’t know. They still… they still get to me. I don’t think I can ever get used to them. Are you?” 

“What? Used to them?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know how to explain it to you, not at that moment. How could he articulate to you that after so many years, the colors had dulled ever so slightly? The novelty had worn off, had run its course. The only time they’d ever become as vivacious as the first time was when he looked at you. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain it to you, so he only shrugged, “I guess.” 

I guess, except when I see the color of your eyes, and I realize they’re my favorite color. Except when I notice the varied shades of your hair, and realize how lucky I am to see them in their full glory rather than shades of grey. Except when you wear that favorite mauve lipstick of yours, and I can’t get over the shape of your lips. Except when you wear that pretty red dress, and your confidence has my head spinning. 

I guess, except when it’s you. 

“Well, that’s just sad,” you huffed, focusing back on the movie after kicking gently at his shin. You lapsed into a comforting silence for a few more minutes, letting the movie fill the air. The same cycle; you watched the screen, he watched you, and the Universe watched both of you with a smile as it knew that the right choice had been made. The two of you were meant for each other. In this life. In the past lives. In the next lives. The two of you were the epitome of soulmates, even if the concept had never existed before. 

Thank the Universe it existed. Thank the Universe that he found you that day, below an oak tree, scraped knees and all. 

His voice shook as he quietly confessed, “I love you, you know that, right?” 

The movie faded in a blur for you instantly. Your neck could have snapped from how quickly you turned your attention to him. “What?”

“I love you,” his voice continued its waver, not from being unsure but from pure emotion. The flood of love that pulsed through his veins currently. 

You smiled, the apples of your cheeks punctuated and the chip in your tooth from your youth he hadn’t had the privilege of being apart of on showcase, “Well, yeah. Duh. I’m your soulmate. You kind of have to love me.” 

“Even if we weren’t soulmates,” he rushed to clarify, suddenly leaning forward and grabbing your knee beneath blankets that smelled of home, “Even if you weren’t my soulmate, I would love you.” 

Your face softened. He wished he would have kissed you in that moment. 

But the vulnerability was terrifying, and all that could echo through your mind is the fact that you two had time. So instead of matching his serious tone, you joked, “Well, it’s a good thing I am your soulmate, then. It might have been awkward for your hypothetically soulmate you would have had instead in that scenario, trying to explain why you love your best friend more than them.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, squeezing your knee tighter, “I’m being serious, kid. I love you. I really, really fuckin’ love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You’re only saying that because I’m the reason you see colors.”

“Fuck the colors,” he was quick to reply, “The Universe can take back the colors, as long as I still have you.” 

There it is. The earthquake you dreamt of as a little girl. The trailer’s across the park never felt it, the kids surely getting into trouble in the forest behind Eddie’s home didn’t notice it, but you felt it. A rumble through your chest, a groundbreaking discovery, a world-ending confession. Your world began, and your world ended, and your world restarted with Eddie Munson. 

“You don’t believe me,” he noted, suddenly shimmying out from beneath the blanket.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Stay here.” 

You stayed frozen in your seat, wide eyes following his broad back and the army green of his t-shirt. No longer a frail frame, face filling out with puberty. He was becoming a man. No longer the young boy who took punches and threw them back twice as hard. 

He was becoming a man, he was your soulmate, and he loved you. He loved you enough he would give up what everyone else considered the greatest gift, just for you. 

Eddie Munson didn’t need colors to love you so ardently. And you knew, at that moment, that the same could be said for you. You would have loved him no matter what. The moment his shadow had spread over you beneath wide leaves and simmering heat, he was destined to hole up in your heart, never to leave again. 

By the time he had returned to the living room, you had paused the movie, eyes locked on where he emerged from the hallway with a polaroid camera in hand and a mischievous grin gracing his features. The camera had been a joint gift from your parents and his uncle the previous Christmas. 

Your eyes weren’t on the camera. They were on him. His hair had grown over the years, wild auburn curls finally surpassing his ears. The awkward style made for ridiculous bed head, something you’d been witness to many mornings after impromptu sleepovers. 

You were fascinated with the way the sunlight caught each strand as they bounced with his eager steps. The trace of gold you could outline. Shades of autumn you loved to run your fingers through when he’d offer the opportunity.

He shook the camera into the air for emphasis, finally catching your eyes’ attention, before he propelled himself back down onto the couch across from you, both of you sitting up instead of being reclined now. “Let me show you something.” 

“O-Okay,” you stuttered out, unsure. 

He fiddled with the camera for a few moments before he brought it up to his face, resting against his cheek as his eye peered into the small peephole. You were so busy memorizing him like that, that the flash of the camera took you off guard and effectively blinded you for a few seconds. 

“What the-” you started with a scowl, hands flying up to rub your knuckles into your eyes in a sorry attempt to rush away the stars blocking your vision. 

“Just wait,” he insisted, snatching up the polaroid the moment it printed from the camera. When you flashed him an unconvinced look, he continued on, “Trust me.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. You always trusted him with your entire being, whether for better or for worse. 

The polaroid was slow in developing. Eddie hummed to fill the silence, occasionally fanning around the small capture of you that was slowly filling out in color rather than blinding white. You spent your energy on trying to decipher what song was stuck in his head and not focus on how slow those damned photos always seemed to be in coming to fruition. 

It had only been a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity when you finally gave up on figuring out the song and succumbing to your impatience with a sigh, “This is the world’s slowest magic trick ever.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but tossed you the camera. You thanked the Heavens for fast reflexes as you were able to catch it rather than let it fall to the ground. The two of you would have never heard the end of it if you managed to break such an expensive gift. 

“Hey!” you shouted as you clutched the camera tightly to your chest, “Be careful with this thing, Eddie. It’s fragile.”

His eyebrows raised from behind where he held up the polaroid he took of you to his face, “Is it? Can we really be sure that it’s that fragile if we don’t knock it around for good measure?” 

“We can,” you snappily replied, glaring down at the camera and fighting amusement, “If you want to throw it around, be my guest. But you’ll explain to Wayne why you broke it – not me.” 

“Of course, kid,” he grinned so wide that it spread to his cheeks peeking out either side of the photo still obnoxiously close to his face, “What else is a best friend good for? Basically signed up to be your permanent scapegoat until the end of time the moment I gave you the gift of colors.”

“And yet, I’m the one usually talking us out of trouble,” you dramatically called back, finally looking up at him and holding up the camera, “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I dunno. Break it, take a picture of me. The choice is yours, sweetheart.” 

He still hadn’t put the photo of you down, so you finally reached across the sea of blankets to yank on his forearms. Once you were faced once more with those warm doe eyes rather than the blank back of a photo, you narrowed your eyes at him in indecision. 

He was still smirking. Wide enough that his teeth just barely peeked out between his barely parted lips. You recalled the tales of kiss-bitten lips, the way you’d heard adults describe that deeper shade of pink, and for a second, you considered that it would look good on Eddie. Something about imagining him flushed and bruised by love and lust rather than malice made your gut twist stormily. 

“Picture it is,” you muttered, “Put that stupid polaroid down and smile for the camera, pretty boy.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

The camera went off mid-teasing, his dimples on full display and eyes shining wonderfully with the flash of the camera. 

“Nope,” you mumbled, “Just said it so you’d keep smiling.” 

It was a lie. A horrible, pathetic, and badly-veiled lie. 

The photos developed faster. Yours is finally in full color and detail by the time the two of you can make out the shape of Eddie in his, and he was quick to toss it to the side before he shoved yours into your lap. 

“There, look.” 

It wasn’t anything magnificent to look at. Just another photo. The same old color of your hair, baby hairs frizzing at the edges. Same old eyes fighting from crinkling in adornment at the boy before you. You weren’t anything special, not in your eyes. But Eddie’s expectant stare told you that there had to be something more there, something he was waiting for you to pick up on. You scoured the background of the photo for pops of color only to come up empty-handed. All you could find were the tired dark tones of the Munson’s furniture and living room behind yourself in the picture.

“Eddie, what am I supposed to be looking at?” you squinted, bringing the photo closer and trying to figure out the useless puzzle he had presented you with, “It’s just a picture of me-”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, “A picture of you. My soulmate. That right there,” he leaned over and plucked the photo from your hands, holding it up tauntingly just out of reach, “Is a picture of the girl I love. A picture of the one person who makes colors worth seeing, and makes colors worth losing.” 

The sentiment had you choked up. 

“You’re my favorite person,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he held up his hand with his knuckles facing you as he put down the polaroid in his lap, “Have been since that very first day.” 

There was still a faint scar, right there, clear as day. It casted over the knuckles of his ring and middle finger as a permanent reminder of that fateful day. As if the colors weren’t enough, as if the swell of your heart inside your chest wasn’t enough reminder of the love and care you’d always felt pulsing from Eddie.

You reached out to the coffee table suddenly, picking up the photo of him, glad to see it finally developed. You didn’t even glance at it before you held it up to him, “And this is a photo of my favorite person.”

“You didn’t even look at the picture.”

“I don’t need to,” you breathed out, moving the picture out of your vision to look at him dead in the eyes, “He’s right here in front of me. In full color, treating me far kinder than I deserve.” 

His touch was ginger as he pinched the corner of the photo and took it from your grasp, placing it down atop the polaroid of you, “Don’t do that. You always deserve my kindness – you deserve the entire world’s kindness. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who argues otherwise.”

A soft and shy smile ripped at your lips, made the corners and your cheeks ache as you shrugged, “Whatever you say, old man.” 

He only looked at you, only wore the lovesick look of a man face-to-face with his soulmate.

The movie was long forgotten. All snacks carefully put on the table before Eddie threw the blanket off of the two of you and scooted backwards while leaving a space large enough for you between his legs.  

“C’mere,” he beckoned, motioning for you to crawl forward and fit your head to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you impossibly close to him, until your cheek was tight to his t-shirt and your ear was thundering with his racing heartbeat. 

You melted into him easily, letting your own arms encase him to the best of their abilities in this position. You took a few selfish moments to just be there with him, to just let his words sink in beneath your skin and the reality of them weigh heavy on you. The heavier it weighed, the further into his embrace you pressed. 

The warmth of serenity and peacefulness of the picture perfect moment nearly lulled you to sleep. But even in the drowsiness, you felt the kiss he pressed to the crown of your head. 

“I love you, too,” you admitted, muffled by his chest. You hoped he felt the words and wouldn’t teasingly make you look him in his eyes as you confessed, “I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“Sure you could-” he began, but was cut off but the abrupt lifting of your head, just as he fingertips had started on a path down your spine.

“I couldn’t,” you insisted, “I really, really couldn’t. I need you to stick around for a long time, Munson. I’m not in the business of losing my soulmate until we’re old and grey and gross. I want to keep you around until I lose count of all your wrinkles and weird moles.”

He chuckled, and the force vibrated against your shoulder digging into his torso. 

You retrieved those two polaroids before you resettled against him, your back now pressed to his chest as you held the two snapshots side by side for both of you to look out. 

He was right. You think you get it. 

When you look at the photo of yourself, you see nothing extraordinary. But when you look at the photo of Eddie, everything just… the world seemingly stops, all moving parts suddenly snapping into place. A boy vibrant with color and glee, a boy who tugged on every heartstring you’d hung in your chest throughout your lifetime. It sent warmth to every crevice of you, from the top of your head where the ghost of his lips still lingered to the tips of your toes wiggling beside his within thick socks. 

It’s more than an earthquake or the world stopping. Eddie doesn’t just stop or begin your world – he is your world. 

A world of wild hair, charming smiles, unfiltered laughter and fierce adoration. Even the brightest shades out there that you had yet to discover were dim compared to the boy photographed in time for you. 

His arms slide around your shoulders, tugging you in even closer,“Just out of curiosity, what is your cap on wrinkles you can count? Because I’ve seen Wayne, and some photos of my old man, and let me tell you – time is not kind to us Munson men.” 

You rolled your head and pressed a kiss to one of his forearms before smashing your cheek into it, breathing deeply as his fingertips drew random shapes over the spot on your chest that your heart rests beneath. 

“As many as it takes, old man.” 

“Whatever you say, kid.” 

You brought a hand up to curl around the arm, right beside when you kept your cheek nuzzled. He finally laid his palm flat against your chest, and you wonder if he can feel the way each beat of your heart called out his name. It was okay if he didn’t – he had all the time in the world to figure it out. 

—

“I just don’t understand why you’re so mad!”

“I’m not mad, Eddie – I’m fucking pissed!” 

“Okay, then I don’t understand why you’re so pissed!” 

Seventeen is the age of being reckless and redundant. Of big feelings and reckless decisions. It is the time in your life for being an absolute idiot. 

Eddie Munson was proof of it as the two of you stood outside of his van, the whistle of the winds around you two from the impending storm lost on your current screaming match. 

“Figure it out,” you seethed, stomping your feet almost childishly as you began to turn away from him, “And while you do that, leave me the fuck alone.” 

“I- Hey!” he reached out for you, but you’re already quickening your pace and hopping up onto the sidewalk, “Hey! Don’t fucking walk away from me!” 

You didn’t reply, only widening your strides. 

He called out your name, and you heard his frustrated groan before he easily caught up with you. 

Damn him and his newfound height. 

“Would you just listen to me?” he shouted, latching onto your bicep and spinning you around harshly to face him.

You yanked yourself out of his touch quickly, eyes blazing, “Why should I? I’ve seen what I needed to see, Eddie. Just go back inside to your preppy girlfriend. Forget about me. Pretend like she’s never stood to the side while her boyfriend bullied you like- like- like some asshole.”

His hair was longer now. Ringlets that cascaded to brush over the top of his shoulders – shoulders that had broadened impressively as he neared the end of his youth. His newest clothing staple covered them; a denim vest you’d helped him distress and sew multitudes of patches onto, a display of his favorite bands that had only painted a new target onto his back. 

Satan worshiper. That’s what they called your soulmate in terrified whispers amongst the halls at school. That’s what all the PTO mothers’ eyes silently cursed when they’d see him with you at the grocery store. 

He’d made quite the image for himself. And you’d stayed by his side, defending his honor at every chance. Your best friend, your soulmate. 

Only to find him eating the face off of some cheerleader at that goddamned party. 

Yeah, you didn’t need to listen to him. You really had seen enough. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he waved his arms wildly, the storm roaring loader with his increased volume.

“What is she then?” you insisted with venom, crossing your arms and effectively closing yourself off from him as you took another step back, “Just some one night stand? Some fun to have before you have to accept that you’re shackled to me for the rest of your life?” 

You hated the way your eyes burned. You cursed the tears gathering as you glared at him viciously, masking all the pain with as much rage as you could muster. 

He wouldn’t even kiss you, his soulmate. But he would kiss her. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he warned lowly, tone no longer making a spectacle of the two of you, “You know that’s not how I see it.” 

“You won’t even kiss me.” 

He was stunned into silence. As you spat out the words, the first few tears slipped.

It was about more than the pretty blonde girl you’d found him with. It was about more than the fact he was kissing someone else. 

“I… What?” he whispered, his entire body going slack with defeat. 

The tears fell more rapidly now as you replayed the moment in your head. The two of you were only at the stupid party for Eddie to deal weed from some weird guy he’d met in the arcade, a way to make extra cash. Cash he claimed he was putting towards your future together. You had no idea how you’d gone from sitting on the couch together to tipsy, joining a circle of fellow peers who momentarily forgot their cruelness between shots of whiskey and pours of vodka. 

You were going to hate the game of Spin the Bottle for the rest of your life. You were sure of it. 

When Eddie’s turn had arrived, when the neck of that dingy beer bottle casted shades of ambers in your direction, you had been so excited. Your heart had been in your throat, your head dizzy with the excitement of him finally kissing you. Your soulmate by Nature, your best friend by choice, finally would be kissing you. You had been so sure it was an affirmation from the Universe that the right choice had been made when it came to the two of you. That it was all real, and the colors weren’t a product of your delusion. 

And then he said no. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” you choked out, pulling your arms around your torso tighter to fight back any shivers or shaking, “The bottle landed on me, on your soulmate, and you wouldn’t even fucking kiss me. The one person you should have kissed. And you didn’t.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, a deer caught in your headlights, as he started to stutter out a sorry excuse. 

You didn’t want to hear it. You only threw your head back in bitter laughter, spinning on your heel and preparing to leave him behind once more.

“Wait,” he begged, grabbing your shoulder this time. 

You shrugged it off harshly, “For what? For you to make up some bullshit excuse for it? I don’t want to hear it, Eddie. I get it. I’m so sorry that I’m your soulmate. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with me. I’m so-” 

He cut you off by rounding in front of you, blocking your escape route and cradling each of your cheeks with determination as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze, “Stop putting words in my mouth! That’s not why I did it, okay? It’s not!” 

Your tears fell more rapidly, so quickly that his thumbs couldn’t have kept up with swiping them away if he tried. Instead, he let them puddle against his palms, focus solely on your eyes as he bore into them and whispered, “That’s not why I said no. And it’s not why I kissed that girl, okay? You’ve got to believe me, kid.” 

“Don’t-” you started, but he shook his head, determined.

“No, no. Hear me out. Please. You know I don’t see it that way. You- You’re- I’m not shackled to you. You aren’t some sort of damnation for me. Do you get that? You aren’t some life sentence or burden – you’re….” he trailed off, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. Constellations in his lashes to match your own. “I said no because I’m terrified. O-Okay? I said no to kissing you because… because… what if you’re the one shackled to me?” 

The crack in his voice reverberated through you. Aftershocks rattled your bones at his confession. 

“I- We haven’t crossed that line. And I just… if I crossed that line, and if you decided I wasn’t what you wanted…” his eyes searched yours for answers you couldn’t provide to him, not as your brows creased and your chest tightened, “If I kissed you and you decided that the Universe made a mistake, that I’m not actually your soulmate… I- Fuck, I couldn’t take that, kid. I couldn’t.” 

You’re no longer poised to run, to escape him and all the emotions drowning your lungs. You felt your shoulders drop, your defenses burned to ash as you stood with two solid feet on the quivering ground below you. 

There were a million reassurances on the tip of your tongue, but instead you only said, “Why did you kiss her?” 

The question that had pinned you as a flight risk. Because if what he told you was true, and you did believe him, then it didn’t make sense. Nothing that had happened that night made sense if what he said was true. 

“I don’t know,” he seemed even more confused than you, “And- God, I’m fucking sorry for such a shitty cop-out of an answer. But I just… I don’t know. I just did. She was there, and she kissed me, and I kissed back. I pretended she was you, like a fucking idiot.”

The honesty threatened to shatter you, but you decided it was better to hear his truth than risk being lied to. You could move past the anguish in both your eyes, the confusion and the hurt having brewed – you wouldn’t have been able to move past some half-assed lie in an attempt to save your feelings. 

“I regret it,” he whispered, “The moment I kissed her back, I regretted it.”

“Why?”

An opportunity to seal a bandage over the bleeding wound. A chance for him to make it all better. 

“Because she isn’t you. She isn’t my soulmate - she never could be. It’s you, and it was always going to be you, even if the Universe didn’t agree with me.” 

You took a moment to try and picture a world in which the man stood before you wasn’t your soulmate. A world where your palms touched, and your world hadn’t exploded in technicolor. Another Universe where the first color you had seen hadn’t been warm, brown, honey coated eyes. A twisted timeline where you hadn’t been awarded the gift of memorizing the red of his guitar, his sweetheart, or the calm blue tint his room bathed in every early morning. A world where you don’t know the shade his skin turns in during golden hour, or can’t see the way his few tattoos he’d gathered in the past year on his skin are actually a fading shade of blue-green rather than stark black. A world where you couldn’t pick up the Fruity Pebbles stuck between his teeth as he rushed to class late and you teased him mercilessly for it. A world without color - a world without the guarantee of Eddie Munson. 

A breeze roared by, and you could hear the Universe you were in whispering to stop it, to not do this. Because you weren’t living in a world without color. Your world had burst to life when your palm met his. You knew all the colors of his lifeline like the back of your hand. 

“It wasn’t worth it?” You knew the answer. You still needed to hear him say it.

And say it he did, nodding in confirmation, “It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth it.” 

He could have left it at that and you would have offered him your forgiveness anyways. Even if the bond formed between you two didn’t feel like a shackle of chains binding you two together, you knew that there would always be an invisible string wound around your soul and connected to his. You could have spent longer being mad, you could have still walked yourself home and left him broken in the middle of that neighborhood street. But even if you did, you would have eventually found your way back to him. Whether you left in anger, whether you left in sadness, whether you left in mourning – your final destination remained the same. Him.

You may have all the time in the world with Eddie, but even a second spent upset with him felt like a second wasted. 

Not even forever felt like long enough. You knew that now, glaringly obvious by the chain of events the night had followed. 

And so he could have left it at that. And all would be well. Wounds would heal and time would soothe the ache that echoed. But he didn’t. 

He took a step closer. Took a shaky, deep breath. And then another step. One foot after the other until he was toe-to-toe with you as he breathed out, “You’re my future. You’re everything to me. Soulmate or not, you’re all I want. I want to grow old with you until I lose count of your wrinkles, and then some.” 

His chin tilted down, lips daring closer and closer to yours as your stare into his eyes refused to waver. 

Deep, deep brown. Endless, molten, a kind of comforting that says you’re home, you can rest now. How fortunate you were to see the twisting of lively carob and umber rather than lifeless greys. 

Your eyes tried to flutter close, but you couldn’t let them, not yet. Not until he was close enough to feel his breath on your chin before he let out a raspy, “Baby.” 

You folded immediately, took the plunge as your eyes finally shut and you pressed forward with fervent. 

It wasn’t like the movies. It wasn’t fluid and instantaneous. There was hesitancy and there was awkwardness, and your noses bumped one anothers hard enough to make both of you chuckle into the rarity of space left between your mouths as you both gasped in waves of air before returning to one another. His hand took its time before it grabbed your waist, and it trembled the entire time. Your arms shook the entire way they lifted until they wrapped around his neck and shoulders, unsure of where exactly to lay comfortably. 

But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you – your soulmate was finally kissing you. And you had never kissed another soul before that night, but you knew immediately you’d never want to kiss another soul. 

It wasn’t like the movies or fairy tales, but it was enough. 

And you knew he felt the same way when the kiss was broken by the grin that split his lips just as the sky began to spit out the beginning of its inevitable downpour. 

—

You hadn’t heard from Eddie in three days. Which, fair enough. Finals season was nearly upon you two and you knew he had been stressed. Since the night of that party nearly a year before, you two had become even more inseparable if possible. You two had finally crossed a line, had finally accepted your status of soulmates, and no one would dare to demand the two of you detach from each other’s sides once you made the announcement that you were officially together. 

Wayne had worn a knowing smile. Your parents had simply warned Eddie to not hurt you (as if that was even an option for him at this point). Even Principal Higgins had offered a polite smile when he caught you two holding hands in the hallway, surprisingly not commenting on the public display of affection. You two were officially dating, officially succumbing to the status quo of what soulmates should be. 

Everyone had already sort of known there was something there between you two, but making it official removed any sliver of doubt any of them may have harbored. 

And so it was fine if Eddie needed space. It had been that way before your first kiss, occasionally learning how to stand as your own entities rather than solely a joint force, and it could continue to be that way after your first kiss. 

But after three days, you had started to worry. 

Pacing your room, you told yourself you were being ridiculous. This was fine. Space was good – space was needed. 

Space didn’t help with all your what-ifs, though.

What if he was hurt? What if he was sick? What if he was mad at you? What if the longer you gave him that space, the starcher of a revelation he would have that he didn’t need you? What if the two of you had flown into all of this too fast, too quickly, too soon? It may have taken years to get there, but what if Eddie suddenly decided the last year had been too much? 

You were in your car, driving recklessly down the streets that would lead to his house, before you could even think of another what if. 

If it was that last thought that crossed your mind, if everything between the two of you had become simply overwhelming for him, you convinced yourself it would be okay. It would be just fine, you could handle it as long as he told you as much to your face rather than hiding behind distance put between you. It remained a mantra spinning through your storming mind the entire drive; it will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it. Anything for him.

You never considered that one of the other possibilities was more likely. Not until you had your car haphazardly parked in front of the Munson’s trailer, fist banging on their front door before Wayne threw it open with tired eyes and wrinkles bunched in concern. 

“Is he here?” you breathed out in lieu of a proper greeting, breathless from your jog up to the damn porch from your car that you hadn’t even bothered with locking up.

It will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it.

Wayne understood immediately, stepping to the side as he nodded and motioned for you to come in, “He’s in his room. But listen, he got some news, and he’s not do-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Wayne’s warning, too busy storming past him and flying to Eddie’s bedroom door. You didn’t even knock, bursting through the door and already fighting tears as you geared up to hear Eddie say that he needed time and space, that he had gotten sick of you, that he wanted to experience more life before you guys really gave any of this a fighting chance. 

“Eddie, can you please tell me why you’ve just up and disappeared-” you cut off your plead the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He wasn’t facing the door. He was curled up in bed, back to you, clad in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. You could see the stubborn knots that had built up in his hair, immediately keyed in on the way he was trying to collapse into himself. His knees were nearly buried in his chest, and if you squinted into the dark room, you’d see the outline of his spine beneath the flash of skin peaking out from where the back of his shirt had raised. 

It wasn’t just the state of him; the state of the room also immediately silenced you. 

Almost as if a war path had been torn through it days before, the bedroom was messier than normal. Eddie was never the most organized or pristine person, but he kept his living space well enough to… well, live. Kept the floor always within sight, tried to never let any collection of trash overflow on the tops of his dressers or desk. He even found himself emptying his ashtrays without your reminding most of the time. Usually, most of the clutter simply came from mountains of papers detailing campaigns or writing new songs, or different sets of dice being left out from planning said campaigns. A t-shirt here, a pair of ripped jeans there – sure. He was a teenage boy. It was expected.

It looked as though a level five hurricane had hit Eddie Munson’s room. 

Clothes strewn everywhere, dresser drawers thrown open and never closed. Beer cans collected across each surface and both ashtrays were overfilling with cigarette butts. You even spotted two half smoked joints on his bedside table. His sweetheart had been taken off of its wall mount and laid to rest on the floor. He would never have let his prized possession be discarded like that. Ever.

Your voice came out weak as you took a step closer to the bed, “Eddie?” 

You’re surprised he heard your whisper. He stirred, and your eyes followed the dust particles dancing in the single stream of sunlight that was bursting through a hole forgotten in his makeshift curtains. Navy blue sheets the two of you once used to make a pillow fort in the Munson living room, thinned to the illusion of a sky blue in some patches.

You’d always warned him they make shit curtains; he’d always shrugged and said it added to his feng shui. 

“Eddie,” you whispered again, knees knocking against the edge of the mattress as you looked down at his broken form, “I… What happened? Are you… are you okay?” 

You hadn’t known how to approach it. Whatever happened was even worse than the first time he’d received a phone call from his dad in prison. 

He mumbled something against the pillow he has one arm curled under.

“What?” you questioned, nearly ready to climb into that damn bed and force him onto his back, force him to look at you if only so you could guarantee there were no tear tracks on his cheeks. 

You don’t have to, though. Eddie finally loosened his grip on that pillow and rolls ever so slightly, just enough for you to see half his face and feel your heart break at the confirmation of tears. Translucent pink eyes, glossy wet cheeks, the tip of his nose glowing as his gaze met yours. He looked tired.

“I’m getting held back,” he croaked, “I fucking- I flunked. I’m not graduating.” 

You nearly sighed in relief. For his sake, you don’t, but the weight on your shoulders lifted immediately. 

“Oh, sweet boy,” you murmured, giving into the need to crawl into the bed. You folded your knees as you situated yourself on the bed behind him, and the moment you’re situated, he wasted no time twisting himself to face you and bury his face into your side, “Why didn’t you call? You had me losing my goddamn mind-“ 

A strangled sob rattled against your side. One of his hands gripped your thigh, fingertips holding on for dear life, “Because your soulmate is a fucking loser.” 

Your chest cracked further, a valley beginning to form as a hand buried into the back of his head, holding him to you as the other hand moved to rub his back in soothing motions.

“My soulmate is not a fucking loser,” you tried to keep a gentle tone rather than scold him at the moment. He didn’t need scolding — he needed patience, he needed care, he just needed you to be there, “Keep talking about him that way, and I’ll have to get the fighting gloves.” 

He wetly laughed into your t-shirt, and you were sure that there would be tear stains when he finally lifted his head, “I’m the one who taught you how to throw a punch, baby.” 

“Exactly. Which means I’ll have you on your ass in ten seconds flat.” 

It was a few minutes of silence that followed; just you holding him, just him clinging onto you. His life line — his single ship of hope in what had been a terribly rocky sea the last few days. An irreplaceable peace settled across all the wounds and damage that had been done in private. You had been right. He should have called you immediately. He should have known that if anyone could make the situation feel less like his world was ending, it was you.

His soulmate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you questioned in a soft, lulling tone. The endless patterns you’d drawn on his back had nearly put him to sleep, “Maybe be a bit kinder to yourself this time?”

“I just…” he started, finally removing his face from being buried against you, “I sort of had a hunch. O’Donnel wouldn’t round my grade, you know? And I’ve skipped a lot of classes, I know. But hearing Higgins say it just… just…”

“Made it real?” you offered a weary ending to his sentence.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Real. It made it really fucking real.” 

He didn’t feel judged at that moment. He felt seen as you continued on, “It is real, and it sucks. But it’ll be okay, Eds. I mean, I was already planning on the community college for my first year, maybe even taking a year off. If you need any help with classes, you just gotta ask me. Don’t forget I was one of O'Donnell's pets, as unfortunate as it was. I know how to work that woman into rounding up some grade.”

You rambled on a little more, all the while still stroking his hair and back, offering even more solutions. The longer you spoke, the better Eddie felt. You made it all sound so easy — like this was nothing, like it was the smallest of blips in plans that had been years in the making. You weren’t upset, you weren’t disappointed. He deserved your negativity, and instead only received your optimism.

You were with him for the long haul, he realized. Truly. It wasn’t just some one off promise or chain of the Universe holding you to him. He wasn’t dragging you down.

When you finally trailed off, his lids finally heavier than his heart, he sighed, “I love you. You know that?” 

“I love you,” you smiled, “That’s kind of part of the soulmate package, isn’t it?”

“Fuck the soulmate part,” he lifted out of your hold despite everything in him screaming to stay put, to let you to continue to coddle him, “I’ve seen plenty of people be shitty to their soulmates. I watched my dad-“ he cut himself off, throat tightening with memories of his parents. You don’t make him finish that sentence, only nodding in understanding, “The Universe doesn’t force you to be a good person. You choose to be that. Every single day, you choose to stand by my side. You always have. You could have made me feel shitty about this, could have let me see how bummed you really are about sticking out another year here, but…” 

But you didn’t. 

Your eyes softened, a stormy shade of his favorite color, “Do you remember the way you punched Carver that day, before you even knew me?” 

That very first day. The day two souls destined to intertwine had come in contact. The day the Universe had sighed in relief as your palm met his.

He nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, “You didn’t even know me. And yeah, whatever, maybe the Universe nudged you to do it, whatever. But there’s tons of people who know their soulmates for years and never realize it. Tons of people go to school and never interact with their soulmates. But that very first day… the first day you were at that school, the first day you saw me — we met. You defended me. And that counts for something. And I like to think it speaks more about us than it does about the grand scheme of things,” you brought a hand up, wiped away whatever tears were left on his cheeks with enough tenderness he almost started to sob again, “You didn’t know I was your soulmate. I was just some random classmate, and you defended me without even thinking about it. And I will always do the same for you. Always.” 

You always had, you always will. The two of you had proven, time and time again, that you will always choose one another. It was never about that inevitable bond. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, quickly moving to keep your palm there, resting on his stubbled cheek, “You deserve a soulmate who isn’t a fuck up. Someone good, someone who can give you the world and someone who… who isn’t repeating another year of fucking high school.”

“You still don’t get it,” you grinned sadly. Your fingertips press into that soft spanse right before his ear, cradling him more urgently on their own accord, “I don’t want or need someone else. You do give me the world- you are my world, you idiot.” 

Idiot sounded perfectly aligned with lover as he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck. Home — he was home as you wrapped your arms back around him, pulled him a little closer in your embrace, clung to him as tightly as he clung to you. 

All the colors in the world, and the only ones the two of you cared about were the ones confined to that small space for the time being, shades of you and shades of him, all overlapping perfectly in sync. 

—

You stay true to your word. The first time Eddie repeats his senior year, and the second time. 

Endless nights are spent studying, you forcing him to focus when he couldn’t, trying to invent new ways to learn that work for him rather than against him. He’s brilliant; you never let your boy forget that. 

It’s nice for a while. Sickly sweet kisses and teasing exchanges. Enough lovesickness to make even those around you two nauseous. Nights spent out by Lover’s Lake, exchanges of promises of a future to come and discussions of whether your kids will have his eyes or your eyes. Kids. You two were discussing fucking kids. And it had scared Eddie half to death to even bring it up, but you hadn’t been phased. You’d answered terrifying question after question with ease, had even joked about what color flowers the two of you would have at your wedding and listened to Eddie describe the house he’d want to grow old in with you in excruciating detail. Sometimes the two of you even brought up what kind of dog you’d have, fantasized about the big yard which would not have a white picket fence (because, according to Eddie, that shit was too cheesy even for him in all his adoration for you). It made Eddie realize that after all these years, maybe you had become the brave one.

You’d both succumbed to the stereotypical soulmate trope. Become exactly what society had expected from the two of you since the beginning. And honestly, you couldn’t even be mad about it. You get it – you got the allure as you had laid with a head pressed to Eddie’s chest, observing all the stars again, a night sky the vision of black and white as your vision went blurry with fatigue. 

“You know, that house sounds awfully expensive,” you yawned, curling a bit tighter into his side. You’re in nothing but his t-shirt, his chest still bare from the night’s activities.

Another new development. Even after all your time together, you two continued to find novelty to explore. New ways to learn each other, new ways to love each other, new ways to further tie your two souls together. An unbreakable knot. If anyone, the Universe included, tried to loosen it, you would spill blood without second thought. 

“Oh, it absolutely will be,” he chuckled, vibrations echoing in your eardrum, “But that’s fine. We’re going to tap into that rockstar money, baby.” 

In between talks of the future, more honest versions had arisen. Eddie and his band. You and your aspirations. Things that neither of you laughed at quite as much as the talk of children or houses with wraparound porches because they were in reach. 

“Do you think you’ll have groupies?” your voice was a murmur, mouth half pressed into his skin as you lazily traced circles on his pec you aren’t using as your own personal pillow. 

It made him chuckle once more, “Groupies? Sure. Don’t think any of them will be very successful, though.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant just you,” you’re able to snark back even half asleep, “Gareth deserves to be fawned over, too. Jeff is definitely a ladies killer.” 

Your hand moved just fast enough out of the way for Eddie to lazily mimic stabbing himself in the exact muscle you were painting invisible imagery across, “You wound me, sweetheart.” 

From this angle, you could catch the exact shade of brown that his faded freckles shone. You could see the differences in tan skin, see where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on his chest during a lake day over the summer and the tanline had remained stubborn. That had been a good day – Eddie had thrown you off the dark, wrapping his arms around you and turning the world to a blur of passing greens and blues before you’d been dunked beneath the lake’s surface. The cold water had stunned you, but him joining you seconds later hadn’t. Always by your side, even when he was being a little shit.

You’ve gone quiet on him, mind overcome with fond memories as the silence came naturally only for a few seconds before Eddie felt the need to fill it again. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, the hand that had mock-stabbed himself now curling around your forearm. 

Your hand against his chest turned to a fist, pressing deeper into the skin, just to feel him closer, before you teased him, “How do you even know I’m thinking? What if my mind is just blank right now?”

“Psychic-soulmate-telepathy powers,” he answered without hesitation. When you only huffed, clearly unimpressed, he pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in honesty, “You were smiling.” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Usually, you loved memorizing all the colors of him. You loved taking in his doe brown eyes and the harsh blush of his swollen lips. You’d memorize the twinkling of pink staining his skin across his chest and up his neck. You’d pick at the vibrant cherry shade of his painted nails, a sharp contrast from the usual black or sharpie scribbles he’d wear on them instead. 

That silver glint of his rings. The forest green of his plaid boxers. All shades in the palette of Eddie Munson, your soulmate. 

You love him so much, your chest is ready to burst from it. And you told him as much, too.

“I’m just really glad I have you,” you said for only him and only the trees to hear, “I’m really happy you came after me that day.” 

There’s no rush to memorize all his colors and all his shades. You had all the time in the entire world, and then some. The only reason anyone had ever reported losing their colors was due to the death of their soulmate, and he wasn’t in any danger at the moment. He was there, sturdy beneath you, deep breaths syncing with your own. 

If you didn’t learn them in this life, you wouldn’t rest until you found him in the next to finish what you had started. 

“Yeah?” you could hear his grin as he held you a bit tighter. Another deep breath, another expansion of his ribs, and you feel all that time laid out at your feet. A lifetime of learning and memorizing Eddie Munson. A life well spent, “I’m glad, too.” 

“Did you have even a single moment where you…. I don’t know, hesitated coming after me?” your speech began to slur, and you knew you were one foot in unconsciousness at that point. 

“Never,” that same certainty he has always held since day one laced his tone, “Never. I just- I went for it. I made Jason Carver eat his words, and I ran after you. The only thing I’ll ever regret is not throwing a second punch at the asshole.”

Your smile widened, and you knew he felt it. Imagined the comfort he felt at the feeling. Imagined the peace that was washing over him just as it encased you, “But not about coming after me?” 

“I don’t regret coming after you,” he told you, not growing the slightest bit annoyed at your need for constant reassurance. His fingers and palm slowly spread across your lower back, the warmth of their weight carrying you into sleep, “I’ll always come back to you, baby.” 

—

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

Spring break was supposed to be nice. Time spent with friends, lazy mornings that you and Eddie slept through, night drives spent screaming out in relief to empty highways because he made it – you both made it. The college transfer was already put into motion, making it so you’d start the fall semester at a University in upstate Indiana. Eddie had taken a few roadtrips with you at his side, already having gotten on the good side of a boss at one of the car shops within range of where you’d be attending. You two had littered his floor with ads for apartments, the ones in your price range circled in brilliant and glaring red. Everything had been perfectly in line. Everything was set in place. Spring break was supposed to be a break to just be kids one last time – it was supposed to be nice. 

But then Chrissy Cunningham happened. And Jason Carver, and an entire town of people who had always hated your soulmate. Suddenly, your own plan for the future had been scrapped, and in its spot a line of new dominos had been placed. One falling down after the other, too quick for you to keep up with.

A group of strangers had banged down on your front door. Had demanded to know where Eddie was, claimed they were friends trying to help him. You hadn’t even seen the news yet. They’d tried to fill you in, but only confused you more in the process, because the words Eddie and murderer should have never been used together in a sentence in the way they claimed the entire town was currently spewing. 

You were his soulmate. They were sure you’d know where he was, but you didn’t. 

That didn’t matter, though. The young boy, Dustin, had been determined. You’d heard all about him from Eddie – about the brilliant mind hidden beneath baseball caps and unruly curls, about the smart mouth you witnessed mouthing off to Steve Harrington first hand as you’d been searching for your boy. 

It reminded you of Eddie. It made you ache. It made you only more voracious in your search. 

And you’d found him – terrified, alone, trembling and crying. A version of him you’d never been privy to had pinned Steve fucking Harrington to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken bottle to his throat. Wild, scared eyes and hands that shook harder than the day his father had called him and he’d put a goddamn hole through his kitchen wall. More desperation on his face than the day he’d informed you he’d be repeating his senior year for the first time. Shoulders more tense than the night you’d nearly walked away from him over some silly kiss with a cheerleader. 

When he saw you, he’d shattered completely.

The sight of you had him collapsing into your arms, unable to explain himself in full sentences as he gasped and panicked and clung to you. And you had held him, had forced the others to give him time. You were like a feral animal, standing between him and them, friends or not. Your claws and teeth alike had been out, ready to mar anyone who would dare to lay a hand on your soulmate. 

He’d calmed down. He’d explained. And then they had explained and reassured Eddie that he wasn’t crazy. His eyes had found yours over and over, and not a single time did they hold a single doubt for him in them. You believed him; you would always believe him. The cries of the town had been nothing more than static noise. You knew the man before you, you loved the man before you. Your soul knew his intricately, intimately. It would always know him, no matter the circumstance and no matter the troubles to come. In this life and the next.

The colors were never the gift. The gift the Universe had offered you had always been him. 

You stayed with him those short few days. Ran from Carver and his posse, swam in the lake and had kept a level head as you formulated a plan. Find a walkie-talkie. Call for Dustin, call for help. 

When the rest of them had jumped into the lake after Steve, you’d put a selfish hand on his bicep. For a moment, the only thing you were thinking of was him. You couldn’t lose him. 

When he jumped in after Robin and Nancy anyways, you’d followed, no hesitation. 

A dreary, nightmarish world. You’d followed him into Hell – quite literally, it seemed. Except they didn’t call it Hell, they called it the Upside Down. A place made up of all the things children fear, of awful creatures that only served to attack, to kill, and terrible storms of flashing red lightning. A blue tint to the town you’d come to know. Shades of flesh and shades of grey – shades of death – flooded the place. And only you, Eddie, and Nancy could see them. 

Nancy’s soulmate was somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. But she understood that protective stance and the way you’d stuck staunchly at Eddie’s side. She got it. 

A stolen RV, shields made of trash can lids and nails rather than make believe, goddamn spears made at the hand of people all far too young to be handling these things. They were handling the end of the world, and you suddenly hadn’t felt as brave as Eddie always claimed you were. The plan was formulated, and the entire time, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. You watched Eddie play fight with Dustin, real weapons discarded to the ground, and you listened to Robin whisper the same sentiment to Steve. 

“I just have this terrible, gnawing feeling that… it might not work out for us this time.”

You agreed with Robin. You hated that you agreed with Robin.

And so you stood like a watch dog at Eddie’s side, nearly lashed out when it was suggested you might be more helpful joining everyone else going after this Vecna rather than staying with Eddie. 

It was his turn to put a hesitant hand on your bicep. Brown, russet, umber eyes that flashed with the unspoken question of are you sure you want to do this? 

But he was sure. And just as quickly as you’d followed him into that lake, just as quickly as you had dismissed those awful claims against him, you’d nodded. Because if he was sure, if he was going through it, you would follow him. 

You should have insisted on staying with him and Dustin. 

Because your group of rag tags re-entered that Hellish landscape, and you flinched with each flash of red, not even soothed by Eddie’s hand in yours. And the people around you were now friends; you’d realized in a few short days that you would do almost anything to protect all of them as well, but you knew there was nothing that you wouldn’t do to keep Eddie alive. 

“Hey,” he insists once the two of you stand outside this alternate version of his trailer, somewhere that you should know all too well but that has morphed into something unfamiliar in this world. 

His hand holding yours spins you to face him, a few steps off to the side from the rest of everyone. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, trying to only focus on him. Not the bleak colors of the landscape around you two, but the vibrancy of his shades. You hate the weakness written all across your features, unable to offer him any reassurance in return for all that he had given you over the years. You were terrified. As Robin had said, a terrible gut feeling was gnawing at you from the inside out. You couldn’t help the tears gathering, couldn’t unravel the restriction of your throat. 

“It’s going to be okay, alright?” he does the talking, nodding and lowering his chin to stare right into your eyes. His favorite color now wet with emotion, shining even in the dullest of environments, “Can’t be worse than punching Jason Carver, right?” 

It could be. It could be much, much worse. Everything you two had endured together was children’s play compared to this. But you don’t say that; you nod in dishonesty, biting your lip to stop from letting a whimper escape. 

“I’ll always come back to you, I promise,” he swears so vehemently, voice spitting with determination. Those brows half hidden by the bandana atop his head furrow, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

That, you at the very least, believe. Just as you would find him every time, in this life and the next, he would find you. 

“You better,” you choke out, hands reaching up just to latch onto him one more time. To feel him, sturdy beneath your palms. Alive. Your gift from the Universe, the boy who let you see colors. You almost regret spending so long fascinated with the shades you’d discovered when you should have allotted more time to imprint the features of his face to memory. You should have cared more about that freckle beneath his right eye, the slight crook to his nose, the way each of his calluses feel against your bare shoulders. Shades of blue, red, green, violet, yellow – none of them matter as much as the boy before you. They only matter because they paint the picture of him for you fully. They only matter because he matters, “I still need your rockstar money to pay for that wraparound porch.” 

He laughs at that. And God, he’s gorgeous – his head thrown back, eyes crinkling with genuine joy for the first time in days. No one else catches the tear that slips from one of those pinched eyes, the hidden sadness for only you to catch onto. 

That gnawing feeling – the one you and Robin felt. He felt it, too. 

“Of course,” he finally sighs, opening his eyes back to yours and now holding so many words that neither of you have the time to exchange. It kills you – you don’t have time. You thought you’d always have more time. “Think of this as a test run for that rockstar money. See how a crowd of bats feel about my rockstar skills.” 

“Careful,” your voice cracks, a few tears slipping that he’s quick to swipe away, “I hear they’re a tough crowd.” 

He smiles at your joke, but doesn’t waste his breath on laughing. His lips find yours instead, pouring out every single thought and emotion possible. You feel a tug on that knot you’d tied between you two, everything in your being protesting from pulling back from the kiss. You try to move your lips in a response, to tell him it’ll be fine, to tell him you’ll both return to each other. To tell him you’ll have more time. 

When he pulls back, realizing you can’t, his hand falls from you only to reach into the pocket of his jeans. You don’t understand until suddenly, he’s thrusting a laminated square into your hand. 

You know what it is before you even turn it over. Your entire body strangles down the broken sob as you look down at a polaroid of a younger Eddie. Somewhere safe and somewhere that time is still yours. 

“Keep that safe for me, yeah?” his voice wavers as he produces his own polaroid – the picture of you, “I mean, I’ll have yours, obviously. But… but just… it’s gonna be worth a lot of money once I’m the next big thing in the Upside Down.” 

He’s trying so hard to make you laugh just one more time. It only surges more tears to burn your vision. 

“All I’ll have to show Vecna is this,” you start to joke back, letting more tears stain your cheeks, “And- and-” 

You can’t finish the joke. He gets it, putting a hand over yours, forcing you both to put away those polaroids. 

“I know,” he assures you, “I know. Show him my ugly mug, and he’ll go down without a fight. That’s exactly why I’m giving it to you, baby.” 

Another tear, only for you, slips. You trace it all the way down his cheek, memorize the way his skin looks in the horrid blue tint and try to remember the shade it glows during golden hour instead. 

“I love you,” you say. But once isn’t enough, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he takes your hands in his palms, finally presses his forehead to yours, shares his breath for a moment as he focuses on your sad eyes, “So fucking much. You always were prettier than all the colors combined. Better stay that way till I come back to you.” 

He releases you. Wipes away his tears, has to give you an encouraging shove on your shoulders to force you to join Nancy and Robin’s sides. 

Steve catches your eye, a look on his face telling you he’d been watching the entire interaction. Something yearning crosses his features, and then something clicks. As if this is the first time he’d ever witnessed soulmates. As if he’s the one seeing colors for the first time. 

Maybe that’s why he gives his little speech. Maybe that’s why he tries to plead your case and make sure that Eddie and Dustin don’t do anything stupid. 

After Eddie has made his final request to Steve, to make him pay, he looks at you one last time. A ghost of a grin, wearing his bravest mask to date as he mouths I love you. 

You echo the silent sentiment. A silent prayer. For the Universe to bring him back to you. To bring you back to him. 

—*ash, stop reading here*—

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died. It’s one of the first things you learn when school first broached the sensitive topic. Your soulmate dies, they take the colors with them. They never told you how the soulmate takes the colors with them – never discussed whether it would fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate, if the colors would drain from you in real time and leave a path of chromatic grey behind, or if you’d watch them flicker from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You’d been morbidly curious that day in class despite finding it all a bit dramatic. Had looked around a black and white classroom and processed your classmates' different greyscale reactions. Some were forlorn, some were snickering beneath their breath. Some just looked plain bored. It made sense; you were all kids, none of you had ever seen the blue sky or the verdant grass. Only heard about it. Only listened to adults drone on and on about it wistfully. It was never something tangible, something to have and to hold and to lose. 

You wonder how younger you would have looked upon you now. As you faced down an alternate dimension’s fiercest villain, hand paused midair, prepared to launch a lit molotov cocktail with aim to kill, when you suddenly paused.

The shades of the fire burning brightly in front of you have dulled. Microscopically. The smallest of flickers in vibrancy. 

“What are you doing?” Steve screams when he notices your hesitation, “Throw it! Jesus Christ, throw it before-”

Robin cut him off, being the closest to you and reaching over to snatch the ticking time bomb of a bottle, tossing it for you. 

As it explodes against the mangled being before you, another flicker occurs. You swear you feel a stabbing pain in your side, as if that gnawing has taken to ripping you apart.

You swear the bright flashes of yellow amongst the flames have turned to white. The orange has gone so faded, the dullest bits have shadowed over in grey. 

Nancy takes another shot, but you can’t move. You watch it all in slow motion: she doesn’t miss, her shot ricochets dead center, Vecna stumbles before crashing through the wall behind him. 

The world flickers a final time, and all the air leaves your lungs. 

It’s black and white. 

The floorboards, all of your sudden friends beside you, the walls of the old house, the lightning flashing amongst storm clouds in the sky outside.

It’s black and white. Shades of grey monotone. 

As everyone rushes to look out the hole, your knees collide with splintered wood. 

The colors are gone. It’s black and white. 

“Where’d he-” Steve starts to question before he turns and sees you. You’re folding into yourself, no longer breathing as you look down at your palms. Grey. Not a single sliver of flesh tone to be seen. “Are you okay?” 

The colors are gone. 

A cold washes over you like never before, and even if you wanted to take another breath, you couldn’t. It’s not ash burning your eyes – it’s tears, hot and vicious as your face begins to crumple in panic. 

Eddie. 

You don’t even hear them cross the room back to you. Can’t hone in on what’s happened, if the evil has been defeated and if you’d all won. It doesn’t matter; your colors are gone. 

Your hands finally fumble without thought, patting down your person until you catch the corner of the polaroid. You yank it free, breaths finally strangling into your throat without purchase, your shoulders shaking.

It’ll be in color. It has to be in color. He has to be in color. 

That familiar and well loved photo stares back at you. Your boy, curly hair wild and unruly, grin soft and fond. A twinkle captured in his eye and all that adoration that had been rolling off of him in waves somehow frozen in time. 

Frozen in time, frozen in black and white. 

Steve shakes your shoulders, Robin begins to pace and match your panic. They don’t understand. 

Gritted sobs leave your mouth, tears blinding you as you look at the shadow of what must be Nancy.

She understands.

Even through the strangled breaths, earth-shattering sobs that make you nearly incoherent, she knows. 

“Eddie,” you manage to gasp, fist curling around the photograph. 

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died.

“Eddie,” you manage a mangled sob as Steve pulls back, horror-stricken as he looks down at the polaroid, slowly piecing together what was happening.

Fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate. Draining from you in real time and leaving a path of chromatic grey behind. Flickering from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

“Eddie!” 

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You finally had your answer. You wish you didn’t.