#it's also not every part of the house because my brain started to hurt

[an-internet-introvert]

Countdown to October 19th (14/19)

The Phouse

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

��Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[hawkinsbnbg]

nightingales

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 13: "Please, stay."

tags: mutual pining, mildly dub-con, slight daddy kink (1 word), hurt/comfort, hookups to lovers, idiots in love, post ss2/post starcourt

rated: M | words: 3k | ao3

"Please stay."

That halted Eddie's movements briefly. Only briefly. And then he resumed zipping up his flies and buckling his belt as if nothing had been said.

Eddie's heart trembled in his chest, begging him to obey the voice of his Adonis, but he resisted. Because he had gone into this with his eyes wide open and head cleared of any delusional thoughts.

He knew his place, knew how to get his job done, knew what parts to hide safely away from prying eyes and protruding ears, knew just the way to make every night worth the time.

And knew he wouldn't find real love in one Steve Harrington—the town's sweetheart and golden boy—however lovely their rendezvouses had been so far.

"You're drunk, Harrington," he dared a look over his shoulder, sighing when he found the bane of his existence was already snoring softly.

Unable to help himself, Eddie cursed under his breath and stepped over to the bed once more to tuck Steve under the blanket neatly, safe and sound, and lingered for a bit to admire how young and carefree Steve looked while asleep.

Mouth slacked, eyes closed peacefully, features softened from all the edges, so unlike the bone-deep exhaustion that clouded those pretty hazels with gloomy shadows.

At least, after their little arrangement started, Steve seemed to have benefited from it judging by the lack of his heavy eye bags.

Two months ago, Steve had come asking for something to help him sleep and somehow left with a bag of weed after blowing Eddie's brain out.

It was so surreal that Eddie thought he had hallucinated the whole thing while high off his ass.

Except, Steve kept seeking him out, going from paying for drugs with intense blowjobs to something more, something Eddie could give him without affecting the Munson household's finances.

Since then, Steve would wait for him at the Harrington's residence considering it was easier and safer that way, and Eddie would do his best to pound Steve so good he would conk out by the time they were done.

And yet, more often than not, Steve would already have taken a few swigs from daddy dearest's pricey liquors and would be quite tipsy by the time Eddie arrived.

Not that Eddie hated it. He was obsessed with a tipsy Steve actually. Because tipsy Steve was always sweeter, more open and pliant with everything Eddie gave him, more expressive and vocal in a way that made Eddie weak on the knees.

Then again, tipsy Steve also got quite a loose mouth.

He asked for things Eddie would be dying to give him, he said things that were too good to be true, he sang Eddie's name like prayers, and he always begged Eddie to stay.

None of that helped Eddie's stupid heart to stay at bay at all. Because the moment Steve's pretty mouth pressed on his ear and whispered "Daddy", he was a goner.

Nonetheless, Eddie hadn't survived to this day to not being aware of how dangerous Steve Harrington was.

A rich straight boy who was curious about the world around himself. Who would stamp on Eddie's heart once he got bored and decided to move on. Who would leave Eddie behind to go get a perfect family with a beautiful wife, two kids and a half, and a white-picket-fenced house.

It didn't take Eddie long to make up his mind.

He looked at Steve once more before turning on his heels to leave the room, somehow feeling less hollow and cold after two months of witnessing them together.

So long as Steve needed him, he would be there. And Eddie would make himself sacred when the time came.

———

"Stay the night?"

Eddie glanced up from the task in his hands—wiping Steve down with a warm washcloth—and smiled humorlessly.

"You know I can't, Harrington."

"Why, though?" Steve asked softly, eyes still hazy and bottom lip jutting out petulantly.

"My uncle will worry sick if I stay overnight outside," Eddie offered a half-truth considering Wayne had stopped giving him curfews since he started dealing.

"I'm flattered you wanna keep me in your chamber, princess," he leaned forward to press a kiss on Steve's forehead. "But I gotta go."

For a fleeting moment, Steve seemed sobered up enough to regard him with an unreadable look, like he could see right through Eddie's lie.

But the moment just passed as quickly as it came when Steve let out a teary yawn that shouldn't be as endearing as it was.

"Good night," Eddie whispered as he pulled the blanket up to cover his sleepy boy.

"G'night," Steve smiled, small and sweet, and was off to dreamland within seconds, leaving Eddie sitting by his side and gazing at him longingly.

———

When Steve wasn't drunk, he would be more tense and on guard, which Eddie could completely understand given their circumstances.

What Eddie couldn't understand, though, was that Steve still asked him to stay.

"I, uhm, have nightmares," Steve averted his eyes, he did that a lot lately, like he was afraid Eddie would figure out the secret in them if he looked too long. "It'll help to have someone hold me while I sleep."

It was so sly of him to use that card on Eddie, knowing full well how much of a bleeding heart Eddie was.

Therefore, Eddie knew the decision had been made for him even before he opened his mouth.

"Alright, I'll stay, but only 'til you fall asleep."

It was the right and wrong thing to say.

Eddie realized with great displeasure that he didn't like the way Steve's eyes dimmed right after having brightened up just seconds ago.

When Eddie left that night, he tried to not think about the disappointment on Steve's face when the younger boy woke up to his cold side of the bed in the morning.

(He failed.)

———

Steve didn't ask him to stay anymore.

And Eddie pretended that it didn't crush his heart just a bit when Steve refused to receive the aftercare.

In response, Eddie simply fucked him harder for that so he wouldn't have any strength left to protest by the end of it.

It was worth all the glares and pouts Steve shot his way when he just gave up on the charade after a while and let Eddie take care of him again.

"Stay, please?"

It was said so quietly, and if Eddie wasn't always paying attention to Steve, he wouldn't be able to catch it at all.

Eddie swallowed dryly, wanting nothing more than to return to Steve's side and scoop him in a cuddle until they both drifted off in each other's arms.

But reality was always cruel. And Eddie had learned that the hard way. He couldn't afford to make mistakes now when everything had been going smoothly so far. Especially when his traitorous heart was constantly on the verge of running away from him.

"I can't–"

"Sorry," Steve let out a sigh. "Just... Just forget about it."

When Eddie finished dressing, he turned to look at Steve and was greeted by a sun-kissed back.

He squashed the urge to come closer and run his fingers on it, mapping out the constellations and tracing love lyrics with his lips on those moles and freckles.

Instead, he walked over to the door and saw himself out.

"Have a sweet dream, Stevie."

He lingered a bit, only leaving once he was sure Steve had fallen asleep.

———

They didn't meet quite often anymore. Steve was busy with his summer job and Eddie was well... hung up on the what-ifs.

What if Steve was also a trailer kid? What if Eddie wasn't a drug dealer? What if they both came from normal families that loved and accepted them for who they were? What if then?

Eddie liked to think they would always meet each other at some point in their lives no matter what the circumstances. Eddie liked to think they were star-crossed lovers who couldn't get together because of the period they were living in. Eddie liked to think Steve also loved him back.

And yet, Eddie had seen Steve flirt with endless girls at Scoop Ahoy, making eyes with some guys who looked like college jocks, who could guarantee him a good time once he dropped Eddie like a sack of potatoes.

Eddie had stood on the sideline and watched with burning, acidic jealousy as Steve threw his charm carelessly at everything that could breathe and walk on two legs.

When Steve turned to look at him with that same charming smile, Eddie realized it was time for him to wake up from his dream.

And so he did.

———

"Can you come tonight, Eddie?"

"Sorry, man, I've gotta sell all of this new stuff by the end of tonight 'cause the bills are due next week, ya know?"

"'S okay. Uhm, see you later?"

"See you later."

———

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I have band practice until midnight. And Wayne will be home by the time I'm done. So..."

"Yeah, I got it."

"Uh-huh."

"Rain check?"

"Rain check."

———

Eddie turned up the volume of his music until it drowned out the ringing of the phone.

———

Eddie bit his nails, watching Steve's beamer park outside the Mayfield's trailer, watching him talking and laughing with that red-haired little girl, watching him finally get back into the car and drive away once the sun set.

He didn't know if he should feel relieved or disappointed when Steve never looked at the Munson Trailer once.

———

Eddie jolted up by the sharp knocks on the trailer's door. A quick glance at the clock told him it was only two am, too early for the police's raid and too late for his customers to linger outside.

There was only one answer to that and he hoped Franklin would be cowed away by a broken beer bottle just like the other night.

Stumbling out of his bed and pulling up his jeans hastily, he blearily thanked his lucky star that Wayne wasn't home yet.

Because for all the patience the older man had, he didn't doubt Wayne would pull the shotgun on Franklin and well, Eddie wouldn't be sorry for the drunken bastard but he didn't want Wayne to get involved in his mess too much.

On his way, Eddie picked up his weapon from under the couch as he passed by it and marched straight to the door.

When he threw it open, scowling and ready to swing at his enemy, he was greeted by not Franklin but Steve Harrington instead.

Eddie faltered, feeling sick with worry and cold dread as he took in the sight of the younger boy.

"Jesus Christ," he dropped the bottle, ignoring the clang! it made on the floor, to hover his hands over Steve's face. "What the fuck had happened to you, Harrington?"

Steve honest-to-god giggled.

"S'not important anymore," he slurred and swayed on his feet, eyes swollen in purple and red, face caked in blood and bruises and scratches. He was a bloody mess.

Eddie pulled him inside as gently as possible, trying to stay level-headed for both Steve and himself because it wouldn't do either of them any good if he panicked now.

Carefully, Eddie guided Steve to the couch, flipping on just the lamp on the side table, knowing from experience that too much light would cause discomfort to someone who had just got beaten to a pulp.

He poured Steve a glass of water, watching him drink it slowly before getting up to retrieve the quick aid kit, clean towel, and wash his hands thoroughly with soap in the bathroom.

Once he was done cleaning the cuts on Steve's face, he applied some antiseptic cream on the injured areas—which didn't look that bad after the blood was gone.

During the whole time, Steve remained oddly silent, eyes slightly glazed over like being high or in shock, just watching Eddie do all the work and only letting out a few quiet hisses when the cuts burned.

Eddie had apologized plenty for that, wishing he could share half of the pain Steve was feeling at the moment.

Then he asked Steve about the other possible injuries and concussions, not wanting to overlook anything and receiving a simple "Yes" to both questions.

("Christ, we should bring you to the hospital, Stevie."

"No, no hospital. Please."

"... Have you had anyone besides me checked your injuries, yet?"

"Uh, yeah, the paramedics. They cleared me after a bit. 'Cause there's nothing really bad, though.")

"Can I sleep now?" Steve sniffed, sounding small and lost, making Eddie's heart ache terribly.

"Not yet, Bambi," Eddie smiled softly when those pitiful doe eyes looked at him. "We gotta bathe you first, wash away these dirt and grimes before bringing you to bed."

And he wasn't lying, either. Wherever Steve had been all night had soiled his cute sailor uniform and turned him into a real Cinderella.

"C'mon," Eddie guided him up with a hand around his waist while ducked to shoulder one of his arms. "The quicker we do it, the sooner you can get your beauty sleep."

Fortunately, Steve didn't protest and allowed Eddie to half-carry him all the way into the bathroom.

———

Eddie took in a sharp inhale when he got to see the damage beneath Steve's clothes. It was far more severe than he had anticipated and he wondered if the paramedics would've let Steve go had they seen this.

Sighing inwardly, Eddie used a washcloth and gently scrubbed all the mud and blood off Steve's body, shushing the younger boy softly when he whimpered at the stings and dull aches.

Eddie had half a mind to kiss them better, but he reined in his desire to soothe Steve's pain and concentrated on making the shower as short as possible.

By the time they left the bathroom, Steve was trembling minutely but the fog in his eyes had dissipated and he seemed more conscious than when he appeared on the Munson Trailer's front porch.

After putting on one of Eddie's old Metallica tees and a pair of red flannel pants by himself, Steve ran a hand through his dampened hair and gave Eddie a crooked smile.

"Sorry for bothering you this late."

"I wanted to help," Eddie corrected him quickly.

"Of course, I know you would," Steve swallowed, eyes flickering back and forth from Eddie's eyes to his pale tattooed chest. "But I'm still sorry for having turned up without calling ahead. I was lucky enough I didn't ruin your uncle's sleep."

"He'd do the same for you, you know that right?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, chest tight with possessiveness at the sight of Steve wearing his clothes, standing in his bedroom, and smelling of his shampoo.

"Look," Steve spoke up before Eddie could say anything. "I gotta go now."

"No," Eddie reached for Steve's hand and held on it tightly. "You're not going anywhere."

"Why?"

Eddie clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, wanting to know what made Steve think it was wise to sleep without supervision while having a concussion and cracked ribs.

"I'm not letting you go back to your place alone like this."

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, a hint of King Steve peeking through the veil. He tried to pull his hand back but gave up once he realized Eddie wouldn't let him go.

He settled with a tired sigh instead.

"I don't want your pity, Munson."

"I'm not pitying you."

"So what is this?" Steve hissed as he raised his captured wrist and shook it lightly for emphasis.

Eddie only tightened his grasp further, paranoid that Steve would slip through his fingers like sand.

"It's not pity," Eddie met those hazel eyes, still burning with that same fire he always loved. He brought Steve's hand to his lips, pressing shaky kisses on those bruised knuckles.

He still wanted to run away. But the idea of leaving Steve caused him such unbearable pain that he just knew would break him down if he ever did it again.

"I care for you, Steve," his voice cracked as he confessed quietly, "I care for you a lot."

Steve breathed in sharply, eyes glassy with unshed tears and lips quivered.

"Then why did you never stay?" He asked softly. "Why did you always leave even when I begged you not to?"

Eddie stepped in closer and used his free hand to hold on to Steve's as well.

"'Cause I was scared, sweetheart," he whispered. "Scared of having my heart broken. 'Cause I knew, always do, that I don't deserve pretty things like you. That I can't give you all the good things that you deserve."

"So I'm begging you now," he blinked away his tears and looked at Steve beseechingly.

"You don't have to–"

"Please, stay," he pleaded. "Please give me another chance to show you how much you matter to me. Please trust me to make it right this time. Please."

Steve became worryingly silent at that. But Eddie still waited patiently, knowing it was a lot to take it all at once. Even Eddie himself was reeling from what he just said.

"You ignored my calls."

"I'm sorry."

"You always left although I begged you not to."

"I'm sorry."

"You lied to me."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't tell me what I did wrong," Steve mumbled, lips wobbling and nose turned pink.

That cut him deep.

"No, sweetheart, no," Eddie tugged him closer and embraced him gently, heart swelling with fondness when Steve melted in his arms.

"You did nothing wrong, baby, it's all my fault," Eddie sniffled, walking them both to his bed carefully. "I'm so sorry for making you think that way."

As Steve let out a wounded noise and started shaking with small sobs, Eddie cried with him and stroked his back soothingly, knowing he would kill and die for this boy in a heartbeat, knowing that he could never not be in love with Steve Harrington.

When they finally settled on the mattress together, Eddie spooned Steve from behind and pressed kisses everywhere he could reach.

Steve giggled quietly, too exhausted to say anything but still leaning into Eddie's warmth all the same.

Eddie knew they still had a lot to discuss to make their newly found relationship really work, but as he listened to Steve's soft snoring, he was certain they would be fine this time.

As long as they were together.

[samkerrworshipper]

bar-ca

alexia putellas x reader x putellas!child

no warnings just my first kidfic so no judgement

The sound of the bottle sanitizer whirring hurts your brain.

The four month sleep regression is no joke, the non-stop crying, the no sleep, the teething pain. It’s the pains of motherhood that nobody has ever brought up to you.

Everything hurt.

Your head from the lack of sleep, your boobs from constantly being sucked dry, your body from rocking a baby all night who had no intentions of going to sleep.

You just couldn’t understand why little Lili wouldn’t sleep.

You’d tried it all, sleep training, sleep school, nannies, co-sleeping.

None of it worked, Liliana was just set on running yours, and her other mothers life.

You groaned as the machine pinged, signalling that it was done cleaning out the bottles.

You grabbed the one closest to you and poured the water you’d already warmed and the scoops of the formula into the bottle.

Formula really was your saving grace, although the effort to put it all together was something tat you felt was unnecessary, it was the expense of giving your boobs a break.

You were grateful enough that Lili took formula, because according to most of the women in your mothers group you were very fortunate.

You shook up the bottle until the formula had all dispersed evenly.

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t take a moment to yourself, setting the bottle down on the counter and leaning over, enjoying the rare moment of silence in the putellas household.

You knew that you should be grateful, grateful that you were in a position where you could spend so much time with your newborn, that you could spend so much of this valuable time with your biggest treasure, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You were the main parent, Alexia had a football career, games, trainings, media commitments, leaving you at home with Lili constantly. You were starting to get some cabin fever, and a little bit of annoyance with your baby who was always crying.

You’d thought it was croup, but no, Lili just cried and cried and cried, and a lot of the time you cried with her.

There were good moments, but that didn’t change the everyday constant exhaustion you had. The most annoying part though was that you were so attached to Lili that you couldn’t leave her for longer than an hour. You couldn’t explain it, but every time anybody had offered, Eli, Alba, Mapi, any of the girls of the team, and you’d tried to leave Lili with them you’d gone through the worst mom guilt imaginable. So, you were stuck, with a broody baby attached to your hip, pretty much at all times. It didn’t help either that Lili had been significantly premature as a baby, so not only had she been sick, but she’d also craved the constant skin to skin contact in her first weeks of life, only strengthening your connection to her.

Alexia tried her hardest to take the pressure off of you, but at the end of the day you were the one breast feeding, you were the one who had sacrificed her career for motherhood, you were the one with the stretch marks and body that had been wrecked by your daughter.

You picked up the bottle, knowing that the silence across your house would very quickly be replaced by screaming if you didn’t get the bottle to your hungry daughter soon.

You walked slowly through the house, making your way to your shared bedroom as slowly as possible.

You stopped in the hallway when you heard the sound of babbling and an occasional giggle coming from the inside of your bedroom.

The giggling was new, but it made the moments a little bit sweeter when you got to hear it, although Alexia was the one who mostly got it out of your daughter.

You turned the corner and smiled at the sight in front of you.

“It’s not funny liLI, i know you can do it, say it for me, bar-ca.”

You stopped yourself from laughing at the serious expression on your wifes face as she stared at your daughter expectantly.

All Lili did was laugh at her.

“It’s in your blood, you’re a culer, c’mon, you can say it.”

It was another new thing, the little babbles of syllables that would leave your daughters mouth, it was cute, and you’d been aiming for mama, but clearly Alexia had other intentions.

Lili just giggled again at Alexia’s pointed finger and the seriousness on her face.

“You can do it, do it for me, say it, cu-ler, or bar-ca.”

Lili contemplates for a second, before babbling something completely incomprehensible.

“I thought we were aiming for mama first?”

Alexia looked up at you, like she’d been caught red-handed.

She flushed red, and then laughed, and when Lili laughed along with her you didn’t have it in you to even try to tell her off.

“Barca is basically her mother, both of her mothers are curlers, culer is in her blood.”

You rolled your eyes effortlessly at Alexia, she wasn’t wrong, in fact the when you’d seen your daughter for the first time after waking up after birth, instead of being dressed in the previously picked outfit she’d been decked out in a miniscule barca jersey.

“I’m also her actual mother and I would like it if all of the sleep I’m losing to her would be used to at least say my name.”

Alexia nodded, she couldn’t really argue your point, it was smarter for her to just agree with you.

You stepped up onto the bed, looking at Lili, who was uncharacteristically bright for this time of day. You were hoping that you could get her milk drunk and hopefully she’d pass out, but you also were aware that your chances were slim.

You reached for her, noticing the way that her face immediately dropped as you lifted her from Alexia’s arms.

Just as she looked like she was about to burst into tears, you pushed the bottle nipple into her mouth, watching as her face immediately relaxed.

You sunk back against your pillows, happy now that she was able to hold herself up without fully relying on leaning on you.

Alexia leant over, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“How about I take her to training with me? She can sit in the gym with me and one of the staff or injured players can watch her whilst were out on the pitch. You can get a shower, sleep, go for a walk if you want, go see your mami or mine?”

You shook your head.

“You insinuating that I smell, Putellas?”

Alexia shook her head against your forehead.

“I’m insinuating that you need to give yourself a break, let me take her for the day, it’ll be fine, I’m just as much her mother as you are, take a break for yourself, si?”

You felt sick at the idea, but you couldn’t deny the need you had to get some proper, undisturbed sleep.

“Plus, you know how desperate all fo her aunties have been to see our girl, she’ll be saying the words barca by the end of the day.”

Your eyes shot open.

“Alexia Putellas Segura, I am not joking, if she says any words besides mama as her first ones than you will be on night duty for the next month, away games be damned, am I understood?”

Alexia pouted.

“I can’t help it if she’s destined to be a barca player and already knows it.”

You let one of your eyebrows raise.

“Alexia.”

She frowned again, but nodded her head.

“You let me take her, and I’ll get her to say mama, deal?”

You bit your lip, as much as parting ways with your daughter terrified you, as needy as she was, you were so desperate to get a proper run in, or a proper workout, or some proper sleep and proper food that wasn’t ordered off of your phone.

“I want her back in one piece by the end of the day, and with the same amount of barca memorabilia she already has in her wardrobe, and I want her aunties to not indocrinate her, okay?”

Alexia smiled, already bouncing out of bed.

“Finish her feed and we’ll be off, we’re going to have such a good day lili baby, just you and mommy day.”

You rolled your eyes, looking down at the baby in your arms, who was looking at her mommy curiously.

“She’s crazy lil, don’t you listen to her, your mama’s forever, even if you cry for the rest of your life.”

[mydarlingclaudia]

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart Pt 7.

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, most of them belong to the TikTok user ccarmyy! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one, it's a long chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt 8 is here

It wasn't easy to be in the north, it took you time to make the northern people trust you, but you were persistent, you show that side of yourself that not many people are allowed to see.

You still remember those days involving yourself with the work around those lands, visiting every house in the north to learn about all of them, meeting every lord, by the end you arrived and stayed with the Stark's.

Lord Stark fell quickly for you, not only for your natural beauty and intelligence but also your bravery, your combat skills and your kindness. The rumors about a romance between you and him ran quickly around the kingdom, none of you neglected them, because in fact it wasn't a lie, you and him were more than friends, you proposed to him a future marriage alliance with the only condition to keep the promise of supporting your sister which he joyfully accepted.

The memory lives for free in your mind, you remember every detail of it.

The library was warm, empty, only you and him, sitting in front of the smokestack, he was holding your hand in his when you talked.

«My Lord, I think it's very clear that the north has become my home... I wish to stay, and for that I propose you a marriage alliance»

«Go on, tell me, princess. Between who this marriage would be?»

He was smiling brightly and playfully to you, you returned that smile while rolling your eyes.

«Don't play with me, Lord Stark, you know I talk about me and you»

He left a quick peck on your lips.

«You honoured me, my princess. I will gladly accept your hand and your conditions, but I only have one condition...»

«Tell me, Lord Stark, I'm all ears.»

«I love the free spirit of my warrior princess, having said that, my only condition, is to get married at the time my princess decides.»

Those words sent shivers, you felt your cheeks turning red, he always has been a gentleman, you would renounce your freedom in a good way if it's him who will be your future husband.

Since then, You won the loyalty and heart of the north and with that you knew you would have it at your side whenever you needed.

Your dragon, whitefyre, seems to be pleased being in the north which is almost impossible since Dragons are looking for warmer places, you started to think maybe your destiny was there, perhaps that's the reason why your dragon looks like a snowflake, white scales that shine like diamonds and can easily get lost in the clouds.

In your dreams, you saw yourself flying over the north, those lands bathed in Snow, you saw yourself running through the forest escaping from the flames of your own house, sometimes you saw yourself with a crown over your head but some others you saw yourself burning alive. Of course you never talk about what you see in your dreams because that's all they are, just dreams, but lately you've seen them becoming real, a living proof of it, your dark haired nephews, the fire and the death of some people around you, so it's a constant bug in your brain, you wonder which part of your dreams will be true, you try to have as many interpretations as possible.

You heard the news about the sea snake, badly hurt, the fever attacking him and with that, his brother Vaemond ready to feed himself with the bones of his poor brother, he always wanted to control his house.

Your aunt, Rhaenys put him in his place informing him about Corlys leaving the succession to his grandson Lucerys Velaryon. Clearly it makes Vaemond drawn in his own rage.

You haven't seen your home in a while, you don't receive letters from no one, you sometimes feel like they forgot about you and you prefer it that way, you feel free, unfortunately your happiness can't last forever.

«Dear sister, I hope deeply and sincerely that your stay in the north has been pleasing. I would wish to have more time to write about how much I've been missing you, but we will have plenty of time for that later. The succession of my son Lucerys as the next Lord of Drift mark has been put in doubt, by extension I fear Jace and mine too. I'll need you at home, Rhaenys had to fly to Kingslanding, let's hope it is not to support Vaemond's claim. We will need people to support and defeat your nephew's claim.»

You didn't waste time, you left the north the same day your sister's letter arrived, before leaving you informed Lord Stark that you will announce to the king about your engagement.

The skies of Kingslanding are empty, there's no cloud at the sight, and the warmth of the weather hits you, you land at the dragon pit, the trip to the castle is short, your guard was already waiting for you at the principal door, his face shows how angry he is.

- What is it, Sir? Is there a problem?

- I apologize, my princess, but there's no one who could attend your arrival.

You laugh, clearly no one would be there waiting for you, you take it as a sign that you're not so welcome at home anymore.

- It is fine, we didn't inform them about my arrival. Let's go to find out where they are.

Your guard nods and walks at your side, on your way you can see empty halls, you can barely recognize your home, there are no more Targaryen symbols in the walls, not even the colors of your house.

The few people you see on your way simply smile at you, some of them stop to talk with you, a little conversation and finally one of them talks about the entire court at the training yard watching a prince practicing with the sword.

- Did you hear that, Sir? I think we can take this as an opportunity to catch some attention to the real Targaryen family.

- I follow you, my princess.

And as your informant told you, almost every person of the court was there, some of them were immersed in the friendly sparring while some others noticed your presence. You approach as close as possible to the people who were fighting.

A young silver haired man with a patch over one of his eyes, he's fighting against a guard. Your common sense tells you it's Aemond and Criston Cole.

- My sword, please.

You demand to your guard.

- My princess, I think is not the right time, you're wearing a dress.

- It will make it more interesting and the young prince will look ridiculous after I win.

Not so fine with your idea, your guard gives you your sword. You can see him praying the gods to keep you safe.

You jump in the middle of the men, in a quick movement you send to the floor to Sir Criston making him lose his balance, he doesn't stand up to fight you, he simply makes himself aside.

Aemond is not surprised, he quickly goes against you, the dance of swords, punches and kicks last a few minutes, until you're on the ground, your guard tries to go and help but you ask him to stay in his place, Aemond smiles at you, his sword and yours is close to your throat.

- Give up, dear Sister.

- Never.

He uses more strength and the swords are more and more close to you. Your other hand holds the other side of your sword, you feel the cut but you don't care, you can feel the warm blood running down, Aemond sees it and the strength decreases, that's your chance while he pushes himself back you hit him in the abdomen, he falls and his sword is far from him, you jump over him, now it's your sword against his throat.

- Give up now.

He doesn't say a word but smiles at you with his hands up. You stand up and take a bow to all the lords and ladies who were observing.

«I hope you enjoyed the show, my lords and ladies.»

Your guard quickly has a piece of cloth to cover your bleeding palm. You Walk away, there's dirt on your dress, your sword has fresh blood too but you're happy with your demonstration.

You were passing by in front of a window when Suddenly you saw your sister's carriage.

You walk quickly, almost running and then you hear one of the guards announcing her arrival.

- Welcome home, Rhaenyra!

You yell as soon as you see her, you approach her, her pregnancy makes her look more beautiful than ever. You're hugging her tight when the voice of your uncle fills the silence.

- Daemma, it has been a long time.

- Uncle.

You walk to him and hug him, the scent of his hair always was your favorite, oak and mint leaves. The boys and your uncle's daughter received a quick hug from you.

- I have to warn you, our house is not anymore Targaryen territory. There's green everywhere, it's disgusting in my opinion.

- Aunt, Why are you so... Dirty?

- Your hand is bleeding.

Lucerys and Jacaerys observed and questioned you.

- I was in a friendly sparring with a certain prince. I'm fine, I think he's still practicing at the training yard.

Once inside, you, your sister and your uncle went directly to your father's chambers.

The smell of sickness fills the room, there's a lot of incense, and the room looks sad and dark.

- Father?

Your sister asks. You can see the silhouette of a thin body laying on the bed.

- Who's there?

- It's me my king, Rhaenyra.

- Rhaenyra...

He repeats almost in a whisper, exhausted.

- Yes, I'm here, with Daemon and Daemma.

- Dae... Daemon, Daemma... Daemon. Help me to sit, please.

You and Rhaenyra help him to sit on the bed, Daemon looks at his brother, your father looks like a walking skull, his skin is almost grey, he lost some teeth, for a moment you feel like the worst daughter, you left and never came back, his health is worse than ever.

- it has been a long time...

Your uncle Starts to talk about Corlys Velaryon and the war at the step stones, the petition about who will control drift mark. You want them to stop and not fill his head with all those problems, the poor man is living for miracle, he doesn't even stand up from bed without help.

- Alicent and Otto, attend those business.

- No, brother, listen to me, you have to position at Lucerys side so he will be Corlys successor.

Rhaenyra took his husband's shoulder, she also feels like it's a lot of information for the man.

- Father, there's someone we wish you met.

This takes you by surprise, the servants come in with two baby boys, silver hair, chubby and beautiful.

- Father, Daemma, this is Aegon and this is Viserys.

Two beautiful babies, you smile at everyone in the room, those babies are the most beautiful thing you've seen, the boys started to cry while your father started to groan in pain.

- I'm sorry, please, hand me my tea.

Daemon quickly gives him the tea and as soon as Viserys finishes it, your uncle takes the goblet and smells it. Meanwhile you feel like you already had enough of it. You've seen a lot, you can't tolerate one more second of your poor father's suffering.

You excused yourself and waited out of the room, you felt nauseous, the air was heavy, your lungs needed more and more oxygen.

One of your maidens sees you and runs quickly to you.

- Welcome home! Can I help you, my princess?

- Yes, please prepare me a bath, I'll be there soon, thanks Dalilah.

Your maiden leaves while you take some air, minutes later you walk to your dorms.

Dalilah is waiting outside of your chambers.

- My princess, your bath is ready but... you have a visitor in your chambers.

- Thank you, I'll attend our visitor, don't worry.

Once in, you see the thin male shape sitting on a chair.

- Aemond, what do I owe the visit?

- Why did you come back, Daemma?

You walk around your room without paying him enough attention, you're thinking about what to say, you will not speak about the real motive of your visit.

- Why do you care, dear brother?

- It seems like you're here for our nephew's business, Lucerys...

- What about Lucerys? Is he hurt?

Aemond stands up quickly and takes your arm to make you confront him, face to face, too close.

- Don't try to fool me, Daemma.

- I'm not. I really don't know what is going on with him, I haven't talked to them in years. It's a coincidence I arrived at the same time as them, can you believe that?

He leaves your arm but doesn't lose his distance with you.

- Let's suppose I believe you, then What are the reasons for your visit, huh?

Looking at him so close he looks very attractive, his jaw and his thin lips, the scar that patch can't hide well, he has a mysterious aura, you like how dangerous it feels to be in the same room as him, the adrenaline running through your body.

- Perhaps I was missing my home, perhaps I came back because I have duties to attend.

- What kind of duties?

- Marriage.

You said without thinking about it. He gives a step back and has a little smile on his lips, he observes you carefully and then looks at the books placed in a small table at your side.

- Marriage? Did you finally find a good suitor?

- That's none of your business, Aemond. I already told you what am I doing here, now I'm asking you to leave.

You're acting offended as if his question was the worst thing in the world. He silently nods and walks away. Once your door Is closed you undress yourself and get inside the bathtub, the scents of berries and forest filling your lungs it's relaxing until you hear a noise.

- Dalilah, is it you?

No response. You hear someone sobbing softly. You ask again, «Who's there?» standing up from the bathtub, carefully taking your bathrobe and looking for something that can help you to protect yourself.

- If you don't answer, I'll call the guards.

Suddenly, a young man with silver messy hair, puffy eyes and a red nose is standing close to your bed. He observes you as if you were a ghost.

- Well... Hello stranger.

You speak again. You can't recognize him. But he looks attractive.

- Daemma... Is it really you? You...you Don't recognize me anymore?

He finally answers you, but not even his voice is familiar to you.

- Who... Are you?

- Aegon.

Both are standing there not knowing what to do. In the blink of an eye, Aegon walks to you, his arms are around your body and his face hidden in your neck. Seconds later you react and return the hug, he looks like a man now but he is still that little young boy you left a long time ago. The hug took you by surprise but it is a good sign, maybe after all this time away he still has strong feelings for you, you can play and twist him as you wish.

- Oh my sweet brother, I apologize, I couldn't recognize you, look at you, you're a man now.

- When did you arrive? Why no one told me?

He says without leaving his place between your jaw and neck.

- I arrived today, I didn't announce I would come home.

Your sweet and soft voice on his ear has him In a rollercoaster of emotion, he doesn't want to leave your body, you put your arms down a long ago but the poor man still can't believe you're there, you feel his bulge growing in his pants and pressed against you, that's when you step back, pushing him a little.

- Let me see you well, you have changed a lot these years...

Smiling at him, You place your hands on his face, one is caressing his cheek, the other is busy running your thumb through his lips and jaw, you're acting fool but you really know what you're causing him.

He hides his desire with his hands over his pants, his look is full of sadness and nostalgia. Before your hands can leave his face he catches one of them and leaves it there in his cheek.

- I thought you would never come back...

- Hmm, I thought the same. But here I am.

- Why?

- Hmm?

- Why are you here?

- Perhaps I couldn't handle being far from home anymore... Or perhaps I'm here because of that duty I've been avoiding all this time.

You turn your back at him, walking to the wardrobe, you take one of the dresses there and before you start to dress you ask him to not look, he turns his back, you know there's a small mirror and he will have a small view of your body, just the exact amount to be sure he will be in the palm of your hand again.

- What duty?

- Marriage. Since the queen informed me about your wedding and your two children, I finally accepted I needed a husband (...)

He's lost in thoughts not paying enough attention to what you're saying, observing you through that small mirror, drawing your body shape In his mind, the locks of your hair, the moles on your back.

- Aegon?

- Uh? What?

You laugh when you realize he wasn't paying attention to you.

- I was asking you if you can help me with the buttons of my dress, please.

He clears his throat and walks to you, he has trouble to button the dress.

«It is easier to quit than to put it...»

He murmur. You don't say nothing, you're observing the big mirror of the wardrobe door. He's being careful, as if touching you would make you vanish.

Once he finishes he looks at the big mirror, it is a nice image, you and him, together, in the same space, close to each other.

- We could be good for each other, you know...?

You break the silence and he places his jaw on your exposed shoulder and simply sighs in agreement. You're not saying the truth, you know you wouldn't tolerate him much, you've heard he drinks a lot, he spends most of his days swimming in wine and spreading his seed in every woman he sees.

- But I suppose I will have to be satisfied with one of your brothers or perhaps an old fat lord... We will know soon.

- What?

- It has been so good to see you again my sweet prince, but I have some visits to pay to the queen, the hand and the king if it's possible, you know, to see what we will do with my marriage.

You don't give him a chance to speak and walk out of the room, you were passing by for your father's chambers when you heard the voices of your family and the Queen's voice. You stopped and stood close enough to the door.

You smiled when you heard your uncle talking about the poor welcome they had.

You opened the doors as soon as you heard your sister, questioning the queen about who will decide the inheritance of your nephew. The three of them just looked quickly at you and continued with the conversation.

Before Alicent leaves, you stop her.

- Alicent, I would like to discuss some things... With you and the hand of course, since my father is... Unavailable. I hope I can talk with both of you before dinner.

She nods and quickly leaves the room. Once all of you are alone, the first one to question you is your uncle.

- What do you want to discuss with those snakes, Daemma?

- My marriage.

Both are quiet, no one expected it. You scoff.

- What? is it so hard to believe?

- Who's the man, Daemma?

Rhaenyra is speechless but your uncle demands answers.

- As you know I've spent most of my time in the north. I proposed a marriage alliance. Between me and Lord Cregan Stark. He will support Rhaenyra's claim.

- What are his demands in exchange for his loyalty to me, Sister?

- Not many, At the moment, he only asked to marry me until I decide when the right time is.

Your uncle doesn't look pleased, he never thought you would be married, he always told you no one would be good enough for you. You try to find more arguments that could please him.

- The north is an enormous territory, full of strong houses who would follow the Starks without hesitation. I think it is a great opportunity for us, to have the north on our side.

- But will you be happy living there, sister?

- I will... I am now and I'm sure I will in the future. But I have to act quickly, if Father approves and announces my marriage before dinner, that's why I am here right now, I want to talk to my father. Alicent and Otto will not have a chance to act or go against the king's wishes. That's why I planted the seed of a meeting with them, I will cancel my meeting at the last minute, they would be wondering why or what I wanted to discuss, eventually my father will announce it.

After some more minutes discussing, they leave you alone with Viserys. The announcement of Vaemond Velaryon was in everybody's mouth.

«Father?»

You whispered a couple times before he could make a sound. With difficulty he opens his eye, instantly putting his hands over his head.

- What? Who... is... it?

- I'm... Daemma, Father.

- Daemma? Oh... my girl... You're the living portrait of your mother.

He painfully tries to laugh.

- Yes, dad... it's me. I have some news for you.

- What... happened?

- I... I will get married, I found the right man, Father.

- Did you? Who is him?

- Lord Stark, father.

- An... honorable man. Good for you my girl.

He's starting to close his eyes again and before he falls you speak again.

- Dad, listen to me, I need you to announce it soon...

- Why?

- Because...

You don't know what to say, what would be enough reason for your father to agree to your wishes.

- Because I love him and he loves me, Father. I love him as you loved my mother.

You actually don't know if that will be reason enough, you don't know if you love the man in that day, in fact, you're wondering if it's love in the romantic way or merely the kind of love you have for a good friend

- My dear daughter... Oh...

The pain is coming back to him, you quickly take the cup with poppy milk. He drinks a little and lays again.

- Daemma...

- Father.

- I... I give my approval to your marriage. You... you have... My... Blessing.

- Thank you Father. I would be so happy if you announce it soon, Would you?

Heavily breathing, coughing he agrees, you can't be sure about him announcing your marriage, but you hope at least he can inform it to the queen and her father. You stay at your father's chambers, just observing him, occasionally he talks to you, things with no sense, sometimes he confuses you with your mother, or Rhaenyra, even with Helaena, but you don't care, you feel guilty for leaving him here alone for so long.

Meanwhile, Alicent, the hand and Vaemond are discussing the succession of Drift mark. While Rhaenyra and Rhaenys are talking about alliances.

You're tired of them, allies and arrangements, you sometimes want to fly away, follow Laenor steps, yes, you know about what actually happened to him, your sister told you and some days you really want to do the same but you made a promise, you promised to protect your family.

You were leaving your father's chambers when Rhaenyra came in. She doesn't say anything to you, she simply walks to Viserys.

They talk about Aegon's dream, the song of ice and fire, about to keep the kingdom safe against the enemies. You're not understanding why is she so anxious, talking to him desperately, until she finally says he separated the kingdom when he named her his heir.

- I thought I wanted it. But it is a heavy... Too heavy.

You hold her hand, you never thought about how hard it was for her to be the next In the throne.

- If you wish me to bear it, if you wish Daemma stays at my side in this... then, defend us and my children!

She broke into tears, sobbing, crying in exhaustion. Both left.

The king and the hand are in the daily meeting, usually they're short, the hand informs, the king barely listens. Today the vibe is different.

Your father demands dinner with the whole family. Greens and Blacks together with the living corpse of your father. Will it be the right thing?.

The day it is full of anxiety, you're nervous as much as your sister, overthinking about what could possibly go wrong today.

You have your sword and your dagger with you, maybe it doesn't help to hide how nervous you feel.

Once In the iron throne you feel your body burning in anger, Otto Hightower, sitting on it.

Vaemond Velaryon is the first one to talk, arguments of how it is unfair to leave such a land in the hands of a kid who hasn't been raised there. Same blood as Corlys, an authentic and immaculate true Velaryon.

He's talking about the legitimacy of your nephews and your sister can't contain herself. Defending Lucerys, allegations about how he only cares for himself and his own ambitions, the Queen's intervention gives more confidence to Vaemond.

You're observing the young man at the Queen's side. Aemond observes you too, he looks at you from head to toe, while Aegon looks occasionally to you and your sister.

You were remembering the previous moment with both, you admit they're handsome in their own way, you imagine how it would be to be with any of them, a carnal desire appeared inside you.

Your sister starts to talk when the door of the hall opens.

«KING VISERYS OF HOUSE TARGARYEN, FIRST OF HIS NAME, LORD OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS AND PROTECTOR OF THE REALM!»

Everybody watches your father walking, he walks slowly, observing everybody, he walks to the throne, once there he simply looks at Otto Hightower.

- I'll sit on the throne today.

- Your grace.

Otto leaves the stairs of the iron throne, your father is using all his strength to walk, one of the guards walks to him to help but your father rejects his help.

The crown falls and your uncle runs to help his brother, with the crown in his hand, he slowly and carefully helps Viserys, once his sitting, your uncle puts the crown over your father's head and goes back to his place with your sister.

- must admit my confusion, I don't understand the petition to a succession previously settled. The only person who knows the desires of Lord Corlys is the princess Rhaenys.

- Indeed, your grace.

She answers instantly. Walking in front of the king, talking about Corlys and his desire to inherit his place to Laenor's son, Lucerys Velaryon and her following her husband desires.

Suddenly the unexpected news, about her agreement of your sister's sons and Corlys granddaughters arrangement marriages takes everyone by surprise.

- Well, it's settled... Again. Prince Lucerys of house Velaryon is named heir of drift mark and next lord of tides.

Vaemond can't believe it, he can see his plans drowning in the deep of the sea. He will not let this pass, he starts to talk about how your father broke the laws naming your sister his heir, now doing it again with the future of the Velaryon's house.

- (...) I will not allow it.

- Allow it?

- As I will not allow you to disrespect my father in my presence, Vaemond.

You speak, with your sword in hand, but your uncle takes your forearm and neglects. Your father speaks again

- You're forgetting your place.

- THAT! IS NOT A TRUE VELARYON!

- Leave, you have spoken enough.

Your sister says to Vaemond who's pointing at Jace and Luke. You place yourself in front of them.

- Lucerys is my legitimate grandson, you're no more than a second son of Drift mark.

Vaemond spills his poison around everyone, your uncle is only waiting Vaemond's exact words that will allow him to finish that man.

- Say it.

Daemon murmurs. Vaemond doesn't care anymore about his place or who is he talking to.

- Her sons are... BASTARDS! and she is... A whore.

Everybody whispers, while your father stands up from his place, but in less than a second.

Daemon cuts Vaemond's head.

- He can keep his tongue.

Blood splashes a few people, and a bunch of guard are around your uncle. Your father feels the pain again and Alicent and you run to help him.

- You have to take something for the pain, husband.

- Daemma, your engagement... Your marriage...

- it's okay father, We'll take you to rest, we can discuss that later.

Alicent looks at you in confusion while you decide to act foolish. As if nothing happened, the dinner arrived.

«You don't drink enough» «and you drink more than a Lord of Braavos» «i drink the right amount »

You were talking with Helaena about her children, telling her you bought some presents for them, while she was talking to you about some strange insects she has. You always thought Helaena was a sweet girl, a dreamer as some Targaryen are, too good for a world like this.

Suddenly, your father appears. Tired, but he refused to cancel the dinner with the family, everybody took their seat and you were in the middle in front of your father's chair.

It is an uncomfortable moment, but your father is unaware of it.

- it is an occasion to celebrate... it is a lot to celebrate. My grandsons engagement with their cousins and my Daughter's engagement...

- Congratulations, dear Niece. I hope you have a happy marriage and a happy life ruling the north.

Daemon says loud enough, so everybody can hear it. Alicent looks at her father, both are clearly surprised.

While everybody drinks, more and more toast to everyone's little achievement, you hear Aegon bothering Jace.

- I'm very sure Jace knows how to treat a lady, Brother, there's no need to...

- Or maybe should I explain it to you, sister? After all, you will get married soon, you will need some lessons.

- Keep your tongue when you talk in front of my aunt and my betrothed.

The conversation ends when your father stands up and speaks again, talking about the distance created by all of you. Suddenly everybody wants to talk and make peace, but you feel like it's impossible, everybody has a lot of hate and sorrow inside them, a dinner will not fix what years of secrets and treasons created.

Helaena talks about how Aegon doesn't pay her enough attention or shows affection to her, and while for her there is nothing to worry about, the rest of the family feels sad for her.

- I suppose, in the end, you don't know how to treat a woman either, brother.

You whispered to Aegon. He rolls his eyes and continues drinking. Jace takes Helaena to dance a little while the rest is eating and talking. Your father leaves the dinner before all the mess. Because just as you predicted, when everything looked bright and peaceful, the dinner ended in a mess.

- A final tribute, to my nephews, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, each of them, Handsome, wise and strong...

That was all, the dinner ended in punches and fights, Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged some words in a friendly way after the fight, but the damage was already made.

You were in your dorm, ready to pack your clothes, Dalilah was preparing you a bath once she finished, she helped you to pack some dresses and the left.

You were brushing your hair before getting inside the bathtub when you felt someone behind you, you barely looked at him, was Aegon.

- Don't you knock on the door anymore?

- I used the hidden halls.

- You and Aemond cannot cause trouble, huh?

- It was Aemond, I merely helped him, it was unfair, Two against one.

He walks to you and starts to unbutton your dress, you don't complain about it.

- You said horrible things too.

- If you talk about Jace I was just joking.

- How dare you? talking about how to treat a lady, when you treat Helaena in that way!

You stand up abruptly and walk creating distance between him and you.

- For your information I know how to treat women... When I have affection for them. Helaena doesn't love me, and neither do I, we don't have nothing in common.

- I'm glad Lord Stark is a gentleman who can treat me as I deserve.

You say while you tie your bathrobe and then Aegon makes you face him, holding you by your shoulders.

- What do you mean, Daemma?

- I'll just say he pleases me in more than one way.

That hurts him, your words hurt. You're quiet, observing him, there's something about his face, maybe his chubby chin, or his pink lips, maybe his sad puppy eyes, the dark circles around them, his silver messy hair, something about Aegon makes you strangely weak, you feel that desire coming up to you again, Aegon stares at your lips then to your eyes and once again looks at your lips.

From one moment to another, his lips collide with yours, you hesitate but soon you melt in the kiss, you feel the warmth between your legs while he presses himself on your body, you break the kiss before something else can happen.

- This is not fine, you have to go Aegon.

He kisses you again and you break the kiss again.

- Daemma, please. We both want this. You want me and I want you.

- No, we... I can't! Now leave.

- You know it sister, deep inside you, you know we belong to each other Daemma, you've seen it in dreams just like me, we're destined to burn together.

- Leave, Aegon, just... Leave.

He disappeared in the shadows of the room and For the first time in your entire life you experimented with the desire, the need of touching and being touched, the space between your legs aching and pleading to be filled. You took your bath and dressed up, you wouldn't stay another night. You felt the big wall you built before crumbling with that kiss with those words about dreams, you needed to forget about it, you needed to remember who you were and focus on what you promised years ago.

You left that night on your dragon, flying right back to the north. Without a clue of what would come.

Your poor father, a dreamer, a king who kept the peace while he was sitting on the iron throne, he died the same night you left your home.

That same night, your sister's right to the throne was stolen from her, with that many lords who accepted your sister's claim, died or became prisoners forced to change their loyalty or lose their freedom or... Their heads.

[bibibbon]

MHA chapter 426

4 more chapters until MHA ends and wow!!!

Honestly this chapter was mainly the conclusion of the todoroki family arc which I still hate how it played out and ended. The whole todoroki family NOT INCLUDING ENJI deserves so much better than what horikoshi gave them.

Hawks is the new HPSC leader?!?! I feel like the system should of just been destroyed considering how much it hurt everyone and hawks by no means has any proper character development to take this role. Hawks hasn't really broken down his flawed beliefs or truly developed from his mentality that ended up getting one of the most redeemable league of villains members aka twice killed. Also he barely reflects on his actions and all of this feels so underwhelming and unprepared for.

Todoroki family deserves better. The ABSLOUTELY vile ending the todoroki family received is horrible like I really feel like they should just runaway and live in a house without endeavour and actually take up on endeavours attornment bs. Like the only one who gets it is natsou who has every right to live with his girlfriend and keep her far away from that environment and oh my Rei deserves so much better both narratively and by the fandom.

Enji still sucks. Yeah I can't lie nothing this man can do can make me like him and it doesn't help that hori has written all of those retcons to humanise him and make him pitiful. I feel like when it came to the todoroki family arc enji took on a whole lot of screentime WHICH HE SHOULDNT OF!!! That should of gone to shoto and the rest of the family and an easy way to fix it is to simply have killed enji in the first war arc (as was initially planned but hori changed it later on) ALSO I SAY LET TOUYA REST AT THIS POINT!!! having him just mechanically alive and stuck is horrible honestly I think that death is much more of a merciful fate for him at this point.

So lady nagant chose to go to jail?!?! Her reasoning for it is actually so sad though and it really shows how much hero society traumatised her. Like the woman didn't want to be free so she can't be used by anyone and would rather spend time in prison over it. I wish that she was hawk's mentor from the begining because the vibe those two give is absolutely amazing and it would enhance the parallels and relationship they have if they were. Honestly I hope hawks actually does a good job but Iam still all for the destruction of hero society and I doubt hawks is actually going to reform it properly also the hero society is so deeply flawed that I don't think there is a proper way to reform more like just scratch everything out and start fresh.

Spinner is back. I hope I don't see him have a breakdown when he realises what happend to the league because I can't handle that. Also that begs the question I thought that spinner had become somewhat brain dead after all he's been through so how did he turn back from being a giant nomu?

I can't handle the sibling angst too bad that touya and shoto didn't have a better arc. The whole shoto trying to know touya better and him revealing that soba is also his favourite food softens my heart. In another universe where enji doesn't get a redemption touya gets one while justice is served to the todoroki family.

Gentle criminal and la brava getting justice. (The only good part of the chapter fr)

in conclusion this chapter was horrible if we look at it from a story perspective due to how badly MHAs already established plot points and themes are handled!!!

Also what happend to the random character in the last chapter!!! I hope we get closure on that soon

[farfromstrange]

Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by this song.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread

A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.

Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)

@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore

[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]

In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.

For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.

Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.

He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.

It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.

You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.

The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom. 

Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.

He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.

There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.

Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.

But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.

When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.

Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.

Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.

He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.

We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.

You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.

“You okay?” you ask.

He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.

“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”

You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.

“Bad day at work?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”

“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.

“No,” he says.

His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him. 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

He sighs. “No.”

“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”

His tone is harsher this time, “No!”

You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.

“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”

And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen. 

Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin. 

“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.

“Why?”

“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.

He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.

“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”

“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”

“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?” 

If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.

He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Everything.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”

What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.

Oh.

Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”

“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.

You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?” 

“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”

“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!” 

His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before. 

He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do? 

He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.

And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him. 

“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.

“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.

You sniffle, not answering.

You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows. 

He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.

“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.

He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”

You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.

He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again.

You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.”

“No, I gotta-”

“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.

But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”

Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp. 

“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager. 

Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.

“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”

“But the mess,” you say. 

“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”

You cling tighter to him. 

He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly. 

Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word. 

His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”

You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”

You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.

He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive. 

But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.

You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”

Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”

“It makes me weak,” you say.

“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”

“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”

“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”

“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”

“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”

You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”

His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.

He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”

You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say. 

He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.

So you promise him, “Okay.”

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”

“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”

“But I-”

“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”

The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”

It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself. 

The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him. 

[frogchiro]

I've never asked a question before, but your neighbor! James idea gave me so much brain rot because it was THAT good, and I had to write something about it or else I was going to die.

I was just writing whatever came to my head here, but I hope I did your idea justice:

"He saw her, oh did he see her, the pretty little thing that moved into an apartment just a few blocks down from his house a month ago. It was a shame really, James wouldn't get to see her as often as he would like but when he did, it became nearly impossible for him to focus on anything else.

You were all smooth skin and perfection with silky hair that he wanted tug on and run his fingers through coupled with the sweet sugary smell of vanilla from the perfume you always wore, it was just the right amount as to not be too overbearing yet heavy enough for him to get absolutely high of off, but James wouldn't have it any other way. 

Although, sometimes when he finds himself alone in the confines of his bedroom late at night, he’d begin to have second thoughts about the whole thing, this “feeling” or whatever he wanted to call it was completely one-sided. It bothered him to no end but at the same time the still logical part of his brain was telling every nerve ending in his body that this was wrong, so very wrong. 

This only made him want you even more, and this terrified him.

The filthy thoughts he had of you were always constantly buzzing around in his head like TV static that he didn't know whether to turn off and ignore or entertain just to see what would happen to himself. At some point James knew that he couldn't have his feet in both worlds, a decision would have to be made. 

The only thing James could do right now was pray that he could keep this little game of his going as long as possible, no matter what it'd cost him. 

He knew he was walking a tightrope, but he wanted so much more.

Then one day it happened, on his way to work, in the early light of the morning, that he saw you right outside of his window wearing a pastel blue sweater, a pair of black sneakers and a white colored pleated mini skirt that was leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination with your hair tied up into two space buns.

James found it all incredibly adorable yet also undeniably sexy, what he wouldn’t have given in that moment to drag you into his house, take you up to his bedroom and lick every single part of you that his tongue could reach. Were you a screamer? Or were you one of those shy girls that stayed quiet? Honestly it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest, he’d have you screaming his name until that pretty little throat of yours hurt, regardless.

The opening noise of his front door made you look up at him with a bright smile and as embarrassing as it is for him to look back on this particular interaction now, he almost groaned, just from the sight of you even back then. 

And it got even better when you opened that gorgeous mouth and James could practically feel the chemistry of his brain shift when you spoke, “Hi! I'm (Y/N), nice to finally meet you, I was just going around the neighborhood and introducing myself to everyone. I just moved in, it's James, right?”

Oh god, he thought, I’m so fucked."

Yeah, so I just wanted to share that before I exploded, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

Ahhh thank you very much for this delicious thing dear!!

And yeah, you're honestly so right, James would be so thirsty and borderline obsessed that he'd start to be kinda creepy :(

He'd fantasize about you, your body, your scent, how you'd sound in bed if he actually took you; would you scream for him? Would you let out those sweet shy whimpers? Were you a sweet sweet virgin, just his for the taking and never letting you go?

I kind of see him as feeling guilty at times; look at him and look at you. He was a tired, washed out widower in his 30's with a boring office job. Sure it made him quite good money but what was the point of it if he didn't even know what to spend it on?

And then there was you, the sweet 20-something college girl who smelled like vanilla, was bright, smart, kind and had an amazing future in front of her, what would someone like you want to do anything with a guy like him?

His thoughts would race, his guilt rising until the moment you actually spoke to him, introducing yourself to James, your voice sweet with a tinge of shyness to it as you explained that you're just introducing yourself as the new neighbour.

Oh he was fucked.

[lady-raidia]

Hi my dear) if you accept requests for RoP, could you do an Elendil x young!reader where Elendil is in love with reader, but he has two problems: 1) he is terribly insecure due to their age difference 2) he feels guilty before his first wife for allowing himself to love again

And perhaps reader helps him get through these bad thoughts and just romance and love! Thank you for your creativity! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

I am back from the dead and I feel extremely ashamed. Many things have happened in my life and my mind was so overwhelmed that I neglegted my baby/tumblr blog and your requests. 😞 I apologize from the bottom of my heart that I just vanished, but I hope to make up for it by dropping some requests that are sitting on my laptop for quite some time. Please feel free to share your thoughts with me! Otherwise, I hope that everyone of you is doing well and that you are enjoying the new season of RoP! Also to the person who send me this request: Again, I am so sorry for the delay or for giving you the impression that I have abandoned everything! 😭 I still hope that you like what my brain spilled out because I really loved that idea! In fact I loved it so much that I have to split it into two parts so that it isn't too lengthy. I hope you enjoy! ✨💕

Pairing: Elendil x Reader

Summary: Your heart always belonged to the captain of the Sea Guard, and while you were so sure of your feelings towards him, he tried his best to deny any thoughts and feelings he had towards you. But will he be successful?

Warnings: A little bit angsty but with a turn to something sweet! Otherwise, just some cheesy lines (again) and weirdly written sentences. What is grammar lmao?

HEALING OF A HEART - PART I ✨

Life has always been kind to you as if the Valar themselves had blessed you with pure luck. That’s why you have decided early on in your life what your purpose will be. As a newly trained healer, you have fulfilled your desire to help people and to ease their pain in body and soul. Even though the injuries seem to be the same each day, the people who come for treatment are not. Except for three young men who just love to get in trouble, and end up injured enough that they need to be treated in the Healing Houses. Isildur, Ontamo and Valandil – as soon as you hear their names, you frown, knowing full well that they got into trouble again. Lucky for you, they rarely end up in the Healing Houses together, unlucky for Isildur he is the one who gets injured the most. And if you are not treating him, you are treating sailors from the sea guard who were not quick enough to escape the pirates, that are roaming the seas. Even though your patients tend to be different each day one person visits the Healing Houses regularly, visiting either his son or his comrades. Elendil, captain of the sea guard caught your attention the moment you laid eyes upon him. But he did not pay much attention to you. You were just another healer, who tended to those who needed care.

But the more often he visited, the more he felt intrigued by you. You and your soft voice, the sweet smile and the caring words you speak every time you see him. “Seeing your children getting hurt can tire your soul, captain. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.” The day you said these words to him, something stirred up inside of him. He told himself that you were giving him advice as a healer but his inner self wanted to believe that you actually cared for him. His heart started to beat in a rhythm that was made for you but his mind tortured him with denial. He was too old for you, too scarred from life that just had begun for you. This is what he told himself over and over again, not wanting to believe that the warmth in your eyes was only meant for him and only him.

The next time he was in the Healing Houses was not because of his son or one of his cadets; he was the one who needed caring. His ship and crew got attacked by pirates and even though they managed to escape rather swiftly, the pirates didn’t want to let them go without damage. Two arrows were shot and both of them hit Elendil in the chest while he tried to save his crew from the attack. Luckily, no one else got hurt but his wounds were serious and needed immediate care. When they arrived back in Armenelos, his comrades brought him to the Healing Houses immediately and you were the first and only Healer available. You tended to his wounds very quickly but the worry in your eyes was clear. The arrows hit a nasty spot but the wound itself was not deadly. Yet, it was hard for you to contain your feelings, but you had to stay calm, had to hide the feelings you had for the captain of the sea guard.

Days passed and Elendil slowly regained his strength. With your permission he was allowed to walk around the grounds of the Healing Houses, but only during the day for short periods. He listened to your words, except for this night. He was haunted by nightmares of the past, unable to fall asleep again. Quietly he got up from his bed, a cold chill running over his skin. His chest was exposed only covered in white bandages to make his wounds heal faster. But he didn’t pay much mind to the coldness he felt on his skin since another coldness was creeping up his thoughts.

Slowly he walked towards the window and sat down on the sill, staring out to the sea that is bathed in moonlight. The night was quiet and he couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder why his heart craves to be close to you, wondering why the gods were so cruel to him. He had a wife once but she was taken away from him too quickly and before their life together even started. Yet after all these years his heart still belonged to his perished wife, never did he think or crave other women. But for reasons unknown he can’t help it, his thoughts are always wandering back to you and it drives him insane. You are only a couple years older than his daughter, he shouldn’t want you. It’s not right, his wife would … he shakes his head, trying to get rid of these haunting thoughts and feelings. No, he promised to be loyal to his wife until the day he dies and he will keep this promise.

He let out a heavy sigh, not realizing that he had got company. “Is something the matter, captain? You look rather gloomy today.” He turns around in surprise, but with a soft smile on his lips while you look at him with worry in your eyes. “No, I’m just … reminiscing on the past.”, he replied. “Usually when people tend to think about the past too often they seem to get lost in it. Even stuck.” You said gently, moving to sit beside him on the windowsill. Elendil stays quiet thinking about your words, the smile on his lips slowly vanishing. “I am not the type of person to get stuck.” He tried to sound confident as he always does, but there is a hint of vulnerability hidden behind his words. You look at him unsure if you should speak your mind or just leave it be. There is so much you want to say, so much you want to confess but he is your patient after all. Yet, it is also your duty to heal the mind not only the body.

“With what your son has told me, I would politely disagree with that.” Elendil looks at you, surprise in his eyes and a hint of I-will-kill-my-son-later. “Isildur? What did he say this time?” “He shared his worries with me. He is worried about you because you can’t let go.” Your voice is quiet but your words … there is something eerie inside of them. Slowly and with care you take one of Elendils hands, holding it as a mother would hold her child's hand after it was haunted by nightmares. Elendils body starts to tingle but he pays it no mind, still too focused on your words.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to pry.” You say feeling as if you have crossed a line, taking your hand back and making a move to leave. But Elendil quickly grabs your hand again, wanting you to stay. “No, you did not pry. In fact … I think you might be right.” He holds your hand even tighter now, desperate to have you with him a minute longer. His touch makes your heart skip a beat but this is not the time to admit that. He is your patient and what he needs now is someone to talk to, someone who will calm the storm in his mind.

“Isildur spoke of his mother. I am sorry for the loss you had to bear.” Elendil nods, the memories of his late wife are with him every day. The memories that were once so sweet, became something agonizing. The guilt of not being able to save her is nearly costing him his sanity, only the sea, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship kept his mind at bay. But he did not realize that his own children were worried about him. He thought he was hiding his feelings rather well. “No loss is easy to bear. The feeling of guilt that comes after … it’s driving me insane.” For a moment you are witness to another side of the captain. His bright smile, confidence and authoritative demeanour are gone and all you can see in front of you is a man that suffered a lot and doesn’t know how to help himself. It breaks your heart to see him like this, the man you have longed for so long.

“I don’t know anything about your wife, but do you think she would have wanted you to suffer?” Your voice is barely a whisper but the words are clear as day. Slowly Elendil shakes his head, still holding on to your hand. “No …” “Then it is time that you start to forgive yourself. I know that the loss of someone you love makes you feel as if the world stops spinning. But the world did not stop and I can promise you that there is so much waiting for you.” You for example. You always wanted to be closer to the captain of the sea guard, to hear his low voice speaking to you, his rough hands touching you. But you always held back your thoughts and never acted them out. Even now you are holding back. His peace of mind is now your priority. Your feelings come second. Elendil lifts his head, looking into your eyes as if he is trying to find something. And you look back, getting lost in his eyes that made your heart beat faster since the first time you laid your eyes on him. For a moment you two stayed like this, looking into each other's eyes, devouring each other's souls. You could feel how Elendil was pulling your hand, wanting you to come closer. And you do follow his lead, stepping closer, only inches between the both of you. When Elendil rises from the windowsill his eyes are fixed on you. You could feel the warmth that is beaming from his body, you could smell the saltiness of the sea that is lingering in his hair. Your heart and soul long for him, yearning that this moment will never end. Slowly, you lift your free hand up, wanting to caress his cheek, to finally feel his skin under your fingertips.

“Y/n, we need your help. There is an urgent matter.”

Just before you could taste the sweetness of this moment, you had to let it go. Unwillingly you drop your hand and it is hard for you to hide your disappointment. Just as you are about to turn around, tending to the next emergency, Elendil holds on tight to your hand, not wanting to let you go. For now.

“Meet me, tomorrow night at the beach where the moon shines the brightest.” You nod, whispering I will before you rush to your next patient, leaving Elendil and a sense of newfound hope behind.

To be continued ...

[queer-n-here]

u already kno wassup !!!!

eldritch abomination reader who has come to originally destroy the world, but was enchanted by their 'one', ( aka sigma, atsushi, and mushitaro or someone of ur choice ) and instead devotes their entire time stalking and invading their lovers mind, pulling them into the readers all devouring aura.

( ur honor they are madly in love ) they dont quite have a proper form but has slowly been constructing one bc their lovers coworkers/friends don't believe they exist "you always go out on dates with this mysterious person and you always rant and rave about them, but not once have we seen them. are you just making them up or something?"

so eventually reader finally constructs the perfect form and comes to their workplace to get them for their date ( that involves tentacles, mind fucks, and breeding ) . Reader basically envokes primal fear in everyone and will kill anyone who hurts what is theirs ♡. major weird ask but it is a random and specific Need i have

~ 🕸

Long time no see 🕸️ bro! Btw, thank you, this just made my writer's block evaporate.

Is it weird that I totally loved every single part of this?

Also, I had no fucking idea what an eldritch abomination is, so I did some research bout them!

This ended up becoming 100% fluff, hope you like it!

Contents: Eldritch abomination reader who sees Atsushi and goes heart eyes

Warnings: Fluff, powerful reader, mind manipulation, shit ton of stuff that doesn't fully make sense but whatever, it's Atsushi even if I haven't mentioned his name (because I felt like the Eldritch would be like 'that's too simple a name for me to address my love with')

EDIT: Soooo, I may have confused myself on what an Eldritch horror is 😅 I kind of imagine smth like Dormamu from Dr. Strange tbh hehehe

You had arrived at that small universe to satisfy your thirst of destruction, to watch it crumble under your power as faces of fear and misery looked up at you, their lives at your mercy. And yet, you found yourself thinking of that vision less and less.

It was not going as you had expected.

Nowadays, you were focused more on that boy that you had started watching. His house was located quite close to the woods you had chosen as your home.

You were everywhere, and always watching everything, but you needed a headquarters of sorts to concentrate your power for it to be more effective, and that was why you had chosen the woods.

You had expected him to be the first of your victims, yet now you found yourself growing less and less fond of that idea. He was not meant to be killed. He was meant to be taken care of.

Not only was he so incredibly small and three-dimensional (like most of these 'humans') he was also wonderfully precious, like a small-sized treasure that slowly began meaning everything to you.

So after months of watching him, you finally gave into your desire of meeting him in person. You changed your form to the one with the simplest dimensions, not wanting to make him lose his mind the way you did others.

He had stepped out of his house to gather firewood, that little thing. When he saw you, he dropped it all, stumbling backwards and attempting to run.

You were not pleased.

You guided the trees of the forest to block his way, and when he had no way left to escape, you spoke to him in the language he would comprehend.

"Do not be afraid." You said, your voice low and guttural. "I do not stand before you with intentions to harm."

He had fallen to the floor in his attempt to scramble away from you, and now he looked up at you with fear in his eyes.

It was not an expression you wanted to see on him.

So you eased into his mind, calming his small brain with the likeness of a sedative. His breath grew steadier, and his eyes returned to their normal size. His instincts were clouded now, and he could not help but be drawn to you, standing up and stepping closer.

"Closer," You told him, and he obeyed. He did not need your words, you could control him fully if you wanted.

But some part of you was reluctant to do it. You wanted him to... Like you? Perhaps, you yourself were not entirely sure yet.

You moved closer, wrapping your form around him, encasing him into yourself, away from the rest of his world, where he would be the safest.

You let him be curious, freeing the part of his mind that you knew would ask questions... You wanted him to know you.

"What are you?" He asked, his eyes wide again as he turned to look at all of you.

"I have many names," You said. "But you will be able to use none of them; they are too powerful."

His wide eyes reflected the kaleidoscope of colours of your form, and you felt his brain grow appreciative of your form.

Pride. It was an emotion beneath you, and yet you could not help the swelling of colours in your form when you saw that he liked it.

"Then... What should I call you?" He asked, looking as though he was still unsure who he was talking to.

"Anything," You presented before him a makeshift form. It was a mirror image of his own, something he could look at while talking and not feel awkward.

He gasped. His fear had long since been subdued by your charm, and he did not hesitate to reach forward and his doppelgänger's shoulder.

"Wow," He whispered, and your colours became brighter again.

Later, when returned back to his house, his senses finally returned to him, and he realised the danger he was stepping into.

And yet, could he resist the urge to go back to you? Not when you had so easily planted it in his head. Hence, after resisting for a whole day, he returned to you the very next.

You let him look for you in the forest, hiding in a dimension his eyes could not perceive. You let him run around, growing more and more desperate when you wouldn't show yourself, calling out to you, but unsure of how to do so since you hadn't told him what to call you.

When he collapsed, tired, on the bank of a small lake in the woods, tears dripping from his eyes as he sobbed, you decided that your game had lasted long enough.

And so you showed yourself, making it look as if you had emerged from the lake itself. He looked up with a gasp, eyes wide and wet as an ecstatic expression broke through his face. His arms rose, reaching for your form.

You let him touch you; today you had taken a four dimensional form, and it was way easier for him to get wrapped up between your colours.

"I thought... I thought you l-left," He said, sniffing.

"I would never," Was all you said, and yet his face lit up. It was not your doing, you had already relaxed your control of his mind when he had entered the forest.

Weeks passed, and his human mind slowly developed romantic feelings for you. You perceived them, and yet never expressed it. He would be the one to tell you, and on his own accord.

You waited, but not for long. Soon, he brought you flowers, handing them to you as his cheeks flushed, looking away and shivering slightly. You wrapped around him; humans got cold painfully easily.

He froze in your embrace, he had learnt some of your ways to show affection. His blush spread gradually, and his muttered confession felt like something with even more power than you.

Joy. Yet another emotion beneath you, but when it came to him, you were reduced to a mere human teenager. You cared not of status or immortality anymore. Destruction of his world? You had long since abandoned that plan. This was his home, and you'd protect it with your life.

You would protect him with your life.

A month passed, and he visited you everyday, bringing with him small presents of the like you knew humans appreciated. You took them all, preserving them with your power so they would never spoil and hide them away in the most complex dimension you could find.

And every time he visited, you gave him the thing you thought was best: a little bit of your own immortality. He did not know yet; you did it without his knowledge. But you did not think he would mind if he found out.

Now he sat on a tree branch as you watched him, leaning against the trunk for balance. You had lifted him up there, and he was speaking of the view. You could not help but move upwards, closer to him.

He watched you, a smile on his face as you changed forms again.

Being three-dimensional was difficult for you. Not only did it weaken your power incredibly, it also could not store your abilities. The closest you could reach was four-dimensional, and that itself took its toll on you.

And yet you were always four-dimensional with him, knowing that this was how he could see and touch you best.

You sat on the branch next to him, wrapping around his small frame.

There was a comfortable silence, and you slowly lulled his brain, sending him to sleep.

You loved it when he was defenseless, when all his safety was you, when the only one that he trusted was you, and not his human friends.

It was another one of those days where you were watching him as he went about his day, keeping him safe from any danger that might come his way.

He was talking with his friends, and they appeared to be teasing him.

"Come on, you've never even shown us a picture..." One of them said, sitting so close to your human that you had the urge to crush her insides. "Or even told us their name!"

He flushed slightly, not knowing how to respond. "W-well, their name is... Very complex."

"A nickname, then," Another said, wrapped in bandages and leaning back casually against the couch. "Or what? You just call them 'honey bun sweety pie'?

They laughed, and you bristled. Your human was getting flustered, and no one but you was allowed to see that expression on his face.

You took shape immediately, condensing your power so much you felt its strain. To make it three-dimensional was like trying to contain the ocean in a glass jar, and yet you attempted your fullest, anger fueling your movements.

You appeared on the doorstep of the building, your speed phenomenal as you climbed its small staircase and appeared at the door of the room your human and his friends sat in.

You pushed open the door, and stepped in. They all looked up, and his eyes widened.

Your power needed your three-dimensional vessel to be big, and you were as tall as 6'8", your shoulders wide and arms thick with what looked like muscle but was actually energy. Your hair was a light brown, and covering your body was what seemed to their eyes a suit.

He recognised you immediately; one glance at your multi-coloured eyes and he knew. This was you, the one he loved.

You walked up to him, throwing him a well-practiced wink as you greeted him the way you had seen lovers greet each other, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I came to pick you up," You said to him, your voice low as you ignored everyone else in the room. "Your work has almost ended now, right?"

A long-haired man lowered his glasses to look at you. "And who are you?"

You could not help but grow irritated, and you triggered fear in the minds of everyone in the room but the one who was yours.

"He's..." Your human seemed breathless. "He's my b-boyfriend."

One of the humans, the insignificant ones, whistled as he stood up. He was scared, you had made sure of it, but was putting up a front.

"Damn, Atsushi," He said, taking in your carefully constructed human form. "He's biiiig."

Your human blushed, his cheeks reddening in that way you did not want them to see.

"I don't see why you didn't show us his picture before," A female said, her house quivering slightly. "He's not bad looking at all. Not that I thought you were, just so you know."

You looked at her, sending her your appreciation for praising you in front of your human by tickling the part of her brain responsible for pleasure.

She squirmed in her seat, her eyes slightly wide.

You turned back to what was yours, holding out your hand. "Shall we head home?"

His blush spread; he still hadn't managed to take his eyes off you. "O-okay..."

He let you take him away, his cold hand clasped in yours. You put on a burst of speed, and the two of you were back in your forest.

The moment you two were alone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes shining.

"You look..." He could not go on, but you knew what he meant.

Another burst of pride. He made you feel things you had never thought significant before.

You leaned down and kissed him, pressing his plump red lips against yours and, unknown to him, transferring more immortality to him.

He responded in the affirmative, letting you wrap your arms around his waist and bring him closer.

You opened up dimensionally, creating a fourteen-dimensional barrier around you two, freeing your power and protecting him at the same time. A part of you still remained three-dimensional before him, embracing him and kissing his lips.

When you pulled away, his eyes were slightly moist.

"I love you," He whispered, and you smiled.

Your love was such that it could not be put into words he would comprehend, and yet you did not want him to think that you did not reciprocate his feelings.

"I love you, too," You put energy into the phrase, making sure he felt the intensity of your feelings.

[multifan2022]

*Prewarning.. this is my first attempt at writing again.. I haven't touched my laptop since January so bare with me lol*

You could feel the warm wetness running down the side of your neck as you sat pinned at a weird angle. There was a sharp and hot pain every time you took a breath as you tried to remember where you were. What was the last thing you did? You couldn't remember getting in the bronco. Didnt remember driving away from the house. All you could remember was fighting with Bradley. 

“Why would you say that to him Brad?! You know how devastated he was when Goose died! You're not the only person that hurt Rooster! FUCK!” You slammed your hands down onto the counter, having a hard time even looking at your husband. While you and your dad were not close, you never blamed him for what happened with Goose. Sure you blamed him for the short break up between you and Bradley as young adults but clearly that was in the past. All you wanted now was for them to figure it out, you wanted to be a family, have a family. But now as Bradley stood here looking at you the same way he looks at Mav.. You were questioning things..

You hadn't even noticed that you called him Rooster.. A thing that just started after the move back to Fightertown. Because you had always known Bradley, he wasn't Rooster too you.. But every night when he came home, a little more mad, and a little more distant, your Bradley was being replaced by Rooster. The aviator who was the best of the best, who was part of the 1%. But was also the aviator who had taken the anger and trauma Bradley had and used it to mold himself. 

“No one to mourn you when you burn in… Really Bradley, because last time I checked, I am the one and only emergency contact for BOTH OF YOU!”

That if your rattled brain could remember correctly was the spark that lit the match. You and Bradley did not fight often, but when you did it was explosive. The kind of fights that left people in tears, the kind that led to words that should've been left unspoken. One of you always ended up on the couch for a few hours, normally both in tears until one of you couldnt take it anymore. Tonight was the first night that one of you actually left. 

You didn't even know which part it was that pushed Bradley over the edge. Was it you telling him you couldn't have kids with him if he couldn't get his anger under better control? That you refused to keep Mavs grandkids from him one day over some pulled papers? Was it when you said that you had sacrificed enough to be with him, that you had to draw the line? Was it when you told him Goose and Carol would be disappointed in how he treated Mav today? 

No matter what it was, the words he spoke as he left stung enough to leave you standing in the same spot for at least 30 minutes after he left. When you blinked and everything caught up with you, you realized the quietness of the house was turning your stomach. Without thinking you slipped shoes on and grabbed your keys. Originally you wanted to just drive your jeep around, clear your head since Bradley had just taken the doors and top off. But when you noticed the bronco still in the drive you couldn't resist being just a little close to Bradley. 

That's how two hours later you ended up driving down some road next to some beach. Honestly at this point you weren't even sure where you were. All you could think about was how hard you were crying as Tim McGraw and Tswift came on. Highway don't care, it seemed poetic, if a song was ever written for the aftermath of this fight, it was this one. When it ended, you had decided it was past time to call Bradley, to find out where he was and at least get you both home. Unfortunately you accidentally knocked your phone out of the old cup holder and onto the passenger floor. One last attempt to save it before it flew out the open door was made. 

You should've let it fly out the door. Because as you stretched across the cab, a car full of intoxicated teenagers came down the middle of the road. You could've sworn you heard someone yell your name as you sat straight up, jerking the wheel way too harshly in your panic to try and miss them. You desperately tried to keep control of the bronco as you skid sideways, unable to get control before it flipped down the side of the bank. 

That's where you were now, wondering how much more Bradley would hate you for crashing his late fathers baby. In your concussed mind, this would be the feather that shattered your relationship. The nail in the proverbial coffin. Part of you registered how long you had been hanging sideways in your seat, the truck having stopped on the passenger side after flipping a few times. You registered that you were struggling to breathe, and definitely were bleeding. You didn't hear any sirens, knew that the teens had not stopped. But thankfully, as one Amelia Benjamin, was dropped off at home her conscience overran her fear of being in trouble. 

So she told her mother and her boyfriend how she had been out drinking. How there had been a vehicle, one she swore she knew, that ended up off the road and she couldn't get anyone to stop. The two adults reassured her that while she was in trouble, she made a good choice in telling them. That maybe she saved someone's life. Little did they know how closely this would hit their little family. 

~~

Jake was over Bradley, the new found friendship they had was great. But it was two in the morning, and Jake honestly just didn't get it. He couldn't imagine having a lifelong love. A childhood best friend turned into the love of his life. So he couldn't wrap his brain around why Rooster was sitting in his kitchen right now. He also couldn't figure out who Rooster was mad at, himself or you? He told him as much and was surprised and worried when big brown eyes lifted from the floor with tears in them. 

“Myself, I think.” Roosters voice croaked “Because she's right ya know.. How can I ask her to give me a family when I cant even be nice to her dad? You know I didn't even ask for his blessing? Not because I thought he would say no, but because I thought it would be a slap in the face to him.. I've always used her as a way to hurt him..” Rooster broke off in a sob. It hurt Hangman's heart to see how hard of a time his wingman was having. But if he knew you, and he felt like he did, you were going through it worse. 

Taking a deep breath he pushed off his counter, annoyed that he was pulling his boots on with his impromptu sweat pants and grabbing his truck keys. Roosters watery eyes followed him before he jumped from his stool, understanding what was happening. When the two were finally in the truck Jake spoke, “Look Bradshaw, I know we aren't great friends or whatever, but I'm gonna tell you something that's gonna suck to hear.” Without looking he clicked the radio off before he continued. “Y/n.. She's a once in a lifetime kinda woman. The kind that will put up with just about anything to make things work. But once she draws a line in the sand, its there forever. Not just for you, but for the next guy too.” 

The hair on Rooster's arms stood on end, not only because of Jakes words but he swore he heard another male voice whisper his name. “What do you mean.. The next guy..” Jake scoffed at how soft and confused Rooster's words were. “My man.. Do you think she will stick around if the one thing she asks of you, is something you refuse to do? She has already given up her father walking her down the aisle.. He wasn't even at the wedding right? She's moved all over to be with you. The only long term roots she has are from when she lived with you as a kid. When was the last time she asked something big of you?” 

Rooster couldn't recall, causing Jake to just sigh and shake his head “I'm telling you this as your friend.. Fix this.. Because I wont fuck up where Maverick is concerned” Jake smirked at Bradley as they pulled into the driveway of your shared home. Rooster was practically out of the truck before it was in park, neither of them registering that the Bronco was gone. Jake watched as Bradley yelled your name, panicking more and more as he cleared each room. When he made it back to the living room he was already pulling his phone out. His thumb didn't even hesitate to click the call button as he tried to get ahold of you. 

He called over and over again, not knowing that you were watching as your phone buzzed just a few feet from the car. You could swear you saw a man who looked just like Bradley walk up to the Bronco and give you a sad smile. Your eyes closed just as the bright blue and red lights started flashing close enough to illuminate your accident. Your last thought about how Bradley would get what he wanted. What his final sentence had been to you, come to life.. It just cost him the Bronco. 

~~~

The ER was nuts on a good night, but tonight a Nurse named Layla was panicking. She had only met you a few times, being one of Hangman's regulars. At first, when she heard the explanation of the vehicle she was sure it was a Bradshaw, but unfortunately there was no IDS in the car and the police in the rush of trying to save you, had missed your phone. It wasn't until she rushed into the room to help with the CPR rotation that she knew it was you. Your hair was matted back with blood, the number of cuts and bruises amazed her. She was even more amazed that the tattoo on your hip was untouched. The one of a rooster with aviators on, the one that had confirmed who you were. 

Quickly announcing that she knew who you were she ran from the room. Slipping sideways as she tried to open her employee locker. She had never dialed Jake's number so quickly. 

Jake felt sick after he hung up. He was thankful for Layla, honestly he had always really liked her and this made him feel like he needed to take the whole thing with her seriously. But as he looked at Bradley, who was practically hyperventilating he didn't know how he was going to get him to the hospital. Layla had told him it was bad, bad enough that she didn't know if you were going to make it. Hangman heard the words come out of his mouth before he could stop them. They were harsh and he wanted to take the way he said it back almost immediately. “Bradshaw, looks like I found your wife.. She's in the hospital.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradleys entire world came crashing down in a matter of nanoseconds. He kept trying to say what by only the wh would come out. He could see Jake's mouth moving as he ushered him back to the truck, and could comprehend that he was on the phone with Mav. But he couldn't grasp anything. 

Well that is until the last interaction he had with his wife, the wife who was currently dying, played in his head. The one where he stormed out, didn't tell her he loved her. Didn't give her a kiss. Just said words that want to make him vomit now. Jake didn't fully hear him the first time he spoke, but when he asked Rooster to repeat himself, it took a lot of self control to not hit the man. 

“My last words to her.. They were that I'd probably be better off without any of the Mitchells..”

Bradley's mouth tasted sour, his whole body weighed down as he cried silently. Thinking about how much he would hate himself if he couldn't make this right. What if you left him after this? Would you move in the Mav? Get with someone like Jake? God he doesn't think he could watch it. Doesn't think he could handle you even packing an overnight bag to be away from him for a night. Why did he always let this happen? 

Why does he always let his anger just blurt out, why does he always take it out on you? When Mav had pulled his papers? It had been you he left. When his mom passed and you were trying to clean the house up for the wake.. It had been you he screamed at, even you whose head was right next to the wall he threw her favorite coffee cup into. But he only ever remembered the parts he liked. The memories where you held him while he cried and tried to pick up the pieces of that cup. Where he found a replacement in the cupboard a few days later. The parts of your story that made him feel loved. Like when he showed up at UVA, standing on your townhouse step with a duffle bag, sad eyes and apologies. It had been pouring rain, you had made him beg on his knees on the front porch before letting him in. 

He didn't hear any of Jake's words on the drive, and was out of the car even sooner this time. His feet eat up the distance between him and the front desk attendant. When they tell him you're still unstable and he will have to wait, he almost passes out. Once again Jake leads him to a seat. He doesn't register anything that doesn't have to do with you. He barely notices as the other members of the squad show up. Maverick kneels in front of him trying to catch his eye. But when he does, Bradley loses it. The tears that have been silently streaming down his face are now coming out in full sobs. Bradley keeps apologizing over and over, for not treating his daughter the way he should have. For what he said, for how long he has let this go on. It's like sad but relieving word vomit. 

Once Bradleys done, he moves on to reassuring an equally distressed Amelia. Who crying and sobs every word out as she explains to someone she looks at like a big brother, what happened. Bradleys not mad at her, hes not even mad at her friends. He's mad at himself, because had he grown up sooner, had he not been the reason for this fight, you wouldn't have been out on the road anyways. You would've been at home, wrapped up in his arms watching trash tv before having sex and falling asleep. He put you here, he knows that. 

When Layla comes out and says a soft hi, it breaks her heart and fills it to see the entire group here. She's surprised when Jake comes and hugs her, kissing the top of her head and thanking her profusely. She spoke as frankly and kindly as she could. “It was touch and go for a while. We lost her a few times.. She was unconscious when the cops found her.. She's got a long road ahead of her. Collapsed lung, small brain bleed, lots of bruises and a handful of broken bones. She's stable for now, but I don't really have good news yet. The first 24 hours are crucial.” 

All Bradley could hear as Layla led him and Maverick down the hall was that you had died.. Multiple times. He heard Mav gasp slightly as he entered the room, and it was like glue that forced Bradleys feet to stay in place. Layla paused as your dad walked towards you and turned to your husband. “I know this is hard Rooster.. But Y/ns a fighter.. She fought hard while in the Bronco, fought harder in the ambulance and here to stay with you.. But now she needs you..” Layla squeezed his arm as he took the small step to the doorway. 

The scene in front of him was nothing like in the movies. Ones where they show someone who was ‘in an accident’ but is barely bruised up. No, because the woman laying before him couldn't be his wife. Your skin was grayish, instead of the healthy tan glow you had developed under the Cali sun. The multiple leads and wires you had on you helping to sustain your life made him sick. A collar around your neck to keep your head stable. There were gashes across your beautiful face, and bruises on every inch of skin he could see. He knew the next moment he had with you would be make it or break it. You would either wake up, and be happy to see him.. Or you would wake up and ask him to leave.. 

Now all he could do.. Was wait. 

[3liza]

corset has become one of those things where I wonder why I feel so bleughhh and then I realize I'm not wearing it or haven't laced it up, stupid,

and then I do and instantly have blood in my brain again and start zooming around my house faster and thinking clearer. it's interesting how so much of this illness is purely mechanical. squeeze one part of your body to move fluids to another part of your body. apply pressure to an area that is sore and hurting and it feels better. idiot. moron

one of the lectures about POTS/EDS at the Dysautonomia Conference I think in 2022 ended with the presenter recommending corseting (she phrased it as "abdominal compression" because corset scary) by using waist trainer wraps for patients to immediately get some relief and restore homeostatic fluid dispersal to the parts of the body that need it. compression garments are recommended in the scientific literature for tons of stuff that doctors don't communicate to patients, including autism. not necessarily a corset corset with steel boning that looks like a fetish club item, but just general physical mechanical support for all these patients whose problems are either rooted in or comorbid with tissue laxity and bad orthostasis. if it's loose, add reinforcement. very simple mechanical principle we all understand intrinsically but somehow don't think of applying to our daily EDC of shit to handle our problems.

I have a friend with Problems Syndrome who describes the sensation of something being pulled downward uncomfortably from their chest and throat when they aren't tensing their abdominal muscles constantly. I do that too, it all has to be held in, held still, tensed and gripped or you feel like your body is collapsing like one of those string toys

anyway this is not to say "get a corset", because it's not the right thing for everyone obviously. also it's a lot of trouble to buy them and try them and break them in and not everyone wants to look like an extra from Sweeney Todd every day. I have that option because I'm a goth that works from home. I'm just blogging, don't take this as medical advice or even casual advice. I was just inspired to jot down my thoughts after thinking "why do I feel so shitty" today, lacing up the corset I had loosened earlier, and immediately regaining about 15% of my function.

[diorsluv]

feather , part 10

“ i’m saying ‘no, no, no, no more’ ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, adamfantilli, mackie.samo, and 74,028 others

yourusername little women hurt my brain so i went back to my happy place (aka gossip girl)

view all comments

edwards.73 i’m kinda scared to ask but uh… what’s the difference between gossip girl and gilmore girls

→ yourusername unfollow me rn

→ colecaufield wait no he’s valid (i don’t know the difference either)

→ yourusername both of u have asked me this 20 times already. i’m blocking u two.

markestapa i know the difference between gossip girl and gilmore girls!

→ mackie.samo me too!!

→ yourusername yeah bc u come to my place for gossip girl marathons like every other day

username64 LITTLE WOMEN

username78 FLORENCE PUGH OH MY GOD

jackhughes little women gives me war flashbacks

→ yourusername i wonder why 🤨

→ jackhughes hmmm maybe because you CALLED ME FOR 5 HOURS STRAIGHT JUST TO RANT TO ME ABOUT IT

→ yourusername IM SORRY

username14 is no one gonna talk about how she posted this at 2 in the morning 😭😭

bookerburke_ gossip girl is the one with the guy that played sam in supernatural right

→ yourusername no sweetie that’s gilmore girls…..

→ cole.caufield HEY HOW COME YOU’RE NICE TO HIM ABOUT IT BUT NOT US yourusername

username21 at least bertram isn’t in one of the pics this time

→ username35 LMAO BERTRAM

username69 i’m kinda sorta in love with your taste in tv shows and movies

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, adamfantilli, trevorzegras, and 82,185 others

yourusername went through my old photos and i guess this is sort of a photo dump.. if u ask me to explain the pics i might…….

so for all the trev, luke, jack, quinn, luca, mark, rut, turcs, eddy, and mackie girls, i hope you’re happy 🫶🫶

tagged: trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, mackie.samo, edwards.73, jackhughes, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, rutgermcgroarty, luca.fantilli, markestapa

view all comments

lhughes_06 please for the love of god don’t explain the cow photo

→ username44 what happened in the cow photo 😧

→ yourusername okay username44 so basically i walked out of my parents house and i saw luke’s dumbass in a cow suit standing right next to my car

→ lhughes_06 I WAS 16 AND JACK SAID IF I DID IT HE’D DO MY CHORES FOR TWO WEEKS

adamfantilli why didn’t you post me 🫤🫤

→ yourusername i didn’t have any old bad pics of you 😕

username4 quinner is contemplating his life in that fishing pic

luca.fantilli okay but that cake was kind of good

→ yourusername uh huh maybe bc i made it

→ luca.fantilli ok i don’t know bout all THAT 🤣

→ yourusername ur the worst fantilli brother

trevorzegras i didn’t know everyone fell asleep on top of me on the couch 😅😅

_alexturcotte let me just say i beat cole in arm wrestling

→ cole.caufield yeah butttt who got the bigger gains??

→ _alexturcotte oh shut up

→ yourusername it’s okay turcs, not everyone’s as strong as cauliflower here

→ _alexturcotte BUT I LITERALLY BEAT HIM?? yourusername

→ cole.caufield hey lil drizzy i thought we left that nickname in 2020 🙃

markestapa you know i actually rode that skateboard pretty well

→ yourusername you fell flat on your ass

username76 i love how she’s exposing EVERYONE

edwards.73 hey it was fun getting thrown into the pool

→ yourusername says the one that started screaming bloody fuckin murder as soon as he hit the water

mackie.samo i look so disheveled eating that cake

rutgermcgroarty see me and jack held each other up in that second photo bc we’re just too strong for our own goods

→ jackhughes 🗣️🗣️

→ yourusername whatever helps you sleep at night

next chapter notes ) i’m actually grinding these chapters out it’s insane this one was really fun to make, esp the second post 😈😈 and also no booker this time so i hope yall like it a bit more lmaooo

[ardentpoop]

top 10 sam relationships ranked and why

for simplicity’s sake I will try to exclude threesomes/foursomes, platonic or otherwise. but note that every dynamic on the show that I have a dedicated pretentious tag for (all of which involve sam) is one that I like to play with in my head.

samndean. what can I say besides failmarriage of all time. one of the most interesting relationships ever portrayed on tv if you’re watching closely, and too many ppl try to cram it into a box and imo they’re all missing the forest for the trees (to be clear this does Not apply to most people who correctly recognize it as an abusive relationship; imo you can’t truly understand either of them or their dynamic if you are unable to reckon with this)

sam & jack. mother and son biologically linked to the same predator (lucifer) and orbiting the same violent head of household (dean)……both of them scapegoated for their Inherent Impurity and shuffled from cage to cage…..bursting at the seams with anger and grief over how powerless they feel to contain the powers that broadcast to the Men In Charge their slow but steady “corruption”…..sam couldn’t prevent jack from experiencing the exact same life-changing trauma that sam experienced at dean’s hands….what’s better than this 💕

sam & cas. shockingly underrated to this day. they’re patient and doctor (sexual) they’re worshiper and heretic (alternating. also sexual.) they’re dean’s brotherwife (sam) and dean’s cuck friend (cas) who’s in unrequited love with him and regularly getting his wife off in strange and unethical ways. they’re parents to jack and dean is the beloved angry man in their house who calls the shots bc they’re too sloppy and broken to make their own decisions. the lucifer&sam&cas link paralleled with the lucifer&sam&jack link. the devil’s rejects. sam can watch cas torture some guy with a look of admiration on his face and then they’re retiring to sam’s room in the bunker to watch shitty tv together in comfortable silence. cas experimenting with sam’s body is so commonplace that he can offer to do Anything to him and sam okays it without hesitation. I love thinking abt how their relationship developed over the seasons esp given where it started. delightful to me :)

sam & john bc they let me explore my many serious issues with my own father without burning myself too badly <3

sam & mary because much like sam and jack they were doomed from the start in the same way and watching them get hollowed out makes me want to scream (complimentary) plus the audience doesn’t appreciate either of them properly they are both Riddled with interesting bruises in the same places.

sam & meg bc BUABS gender fuckery forever (they’re both trans. to be clear)

sam & ruby bc ruby is dean-mirror and she is mother and she is fattening up her little lamb for the slaughter and she is teaching dumbo how to fly and she is saying “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I had no idea that dean would do that to you” and she is Poison, dean says, after locking sam up, and she is tenderly stroking the tears off sam’s face and smiling after she permanently shatters his faith in her.

sam & crowley. they are never ever fucking in a million years and that’s the best part. sam’s condescending “am I supposed to be impressed by that?” made my brain short-circuit. she isn’t this mean to Anyone else it’s beautiful.

sam & rowena. I can’t write the essay abt them that I want to write. they’re hot. I love how much crowley would’ve Despised seeing them getting along.

sam & gadreel for the fic potential alone. they are my little cutesies </3

[luckyollieboy]

Shared Nightmare

» Pairings/Characters:

GN!Reader × Jin Kamurai.

» Contents/Warnings:

Kind of angst. Nightmares and mental illness. Implied CSA from the past on the readers part. Also hints that Jin watched his mom commit suicide. Touchy feely. Jin might be OOC idk, let me live my fantasy. Hurt Comfort kind of thing. OMG they're sharing a bed, so scandalous!!! Uhmmm, idk what else. Enjoy I'm sleep deprived homie (and desperately want Jin). ||EDIT: Hello humans I'm finally rewriting this because I am not letting a bunch of people read this and like it when it's horrible||

Fog.

Everything was fogged. A black endless pool of nothing and the smallest bit of fog stretching on forever. Despite the seemingly harmless scene, my anxiety spiked. My heart pumped hard making my ears ring as I looked around frantically.

No. Please no—

That familiar feeling crept up my throat, suffocating acidic sensation of panic. Head to toe my body burned, not like a fire, but like the closest of ice. Everything felt wrong. I knew why. Of course I did, I knew this scene very well infact. Which is why I was begging the inky darkness to spare me, to let me dream of something I knew I couldn't have tonight.

The warmth of tears slid down my cheek and I turned on my heel and ran, ran as if something was coming to kill me right in that moment, like a scary monster was hidden in the darkness.

There was a monster hidden.

And it was going to catch me no matter how far I ran, how much I begged, no matter what it would catch me. It couldn't be stopped.

The faster I ran the more I could see.

The house.

Oh God, the house. Not this place, not tonight please.

Within a matter of second I hear that laugh.

That fucking laugh.

Clear. Closer.

Not again.

Closer. Clearer.

Please.

I busted the front door open and ran to the bedroom, knowing that I wouldn't be safe. I never will be, but I try anyways. I froze in the room, not sure where to hide.

That pause costed me everything.

Those fucking hands, touching my skin.

It felt like how a vile rotting corpse smelled.

This has to be what death felt like. Nothing else can explain this suffering.

The sobs shook my body as I knew I couldn't do anything, nothing, fucking nothing.

I was that small child again, my childhood pajamas, the color I use to love that I now hate burned my eyes. No, the tears are what burned. Invisible scars were left as the tears slipped down my childhood face.

That voice pierced my ears, clawing my brain the way a bear would when threatened.

I wanted to scream, yell for my guardian— for anyone really.

I was turned around and I shut my eyes. I refused to remember that face.

I don't want to, please.

Every touch felt like a part of my soul was stolen, all of it was robbing me.

The bed, the one I use to feel safe in now turned into my biggest fear, was now touching my back.

If I could scream, or fight, or anything.

No.

No.

NO.

NONO

NONONO

NONONONO—

"NO!!"

I felt arms wrap around my cold sweaty body, I started to struggle against them until I heard his voice. It was thick, sleepy, and scared. Jin.

"I'm here."

The arms squeezed me closer and I felt the trembles. I sucked in a shaky breath, trying to not cry as I whispered back, "I'm here."

I cringed ever so slightly at the rawness of my voice, his face was buried into my back. If I was a fool I would have never noticed the small trembles in his arms as he held me. I shut my eyes as I took one last deep breath. Looks like we both had a nightmare this time.

I gently turned around and held him close to my chest. Frosthiem was always too cold to have crickets, but the wind replaced that sound at night. I had gotten Jin a wind chime not too long after meeting him, we had a small struggle putting it up in the window, it was gently playing it's song now. I shut my eyes and buried my head into his hair, that cold fresh smell of his shampoo grounding me further.

"Was it...about her?" I muttered softly against his head, my fingers gently scratching his scalp.

He nodded gently before his thick scratchy voice spoke, "I woke up before you. Same one tonight?"

I nodded against his head. His strong arms squeezed me tightly before he rolled over onto his back, eyes closed and arm over his face. I shifted to lay on his bare chest, his heartbeat slowed the longer we laid there. His hand traced small circles across my back and arm in a soft gentle motion, betraying how he acted any other time.

I knew he only acted like he was so high above me and he only wanted me around as a servant, he couldn't bring himself to love me fully without some sort of barrier. But moments like these, only the two of us would know, we let the acts fall and just... Were.

Nothing special. Nothing dramatic. No expectations. Just us. Real us. Nothing more nothing less.

The softest, almost timid sounding words fell from his lips, "I love you..."

My heart throbbed and my anxiety left fully as I mumbled against his chest, "I love you."

He gently used his finger to tilt my head up, his eyes raw and puffy, the softest and most beautiful facial expression on display for me. Only me.

His eyes said a million words he couldn't say verbally, promises he knew he couldn't keep, and pleas only I could understand.

My fingers grazed his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed at the action. I leaned in and pressed my lips against his softly and he returned the favor.

In this cruel nightmare, we have each other.