#since HEA loses a voice
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Played more Slay The Princess with a friend and learned something new about the New Dawn ending
My first playthrough included Razor and Moment of Clarity so when I reached that ending, all of the voices were there. I didn't realize that only voices you unlock in your 5 routes are present.
But even more interestingly, one of our routes was Happily Ever After. And we never got any other Ch 3s. When we reached the end, Smitten was Not There...
All of which is to say -
That is a REALLY COOL DETAIL!
Now I'm curious if Smitten can return if you get him back through another Ch 3 after HEA
And also if he stays gone if HEA is your last route where he appears, after having been unlocked in an earlier Ch 3
And also now I kind of want to try mapping out a playthrough that gets me all 10 voices without going through Razor/Moment of Clarity
And also if that kind of run can be possible with HEA as one of the routes
#slay the princess#slay the princess spoilers#i feel like an all voices + no razor/moc run would not be possible with HEA#since you get a max of 2 voices per (allowed) route and you only get 5 routes#so a run that loses a voice will mean having to get him back (if possible) over unlocking another voice in a later run#similarly Stranger is probably also out for this run since it doesnt have a Ch 3#maybe you can squeeze out an extra route if you leave the cabin in one Ch 2? though not sure if that would keep the voice#(and also that feels like cheating xD)#this feels like a fun challenge :D#okay so far cheated and contrarian have to be ch 3 voices since razor/stranger are out#paranoid should still be okay as a ch 2 voice since nightmare can also lead to wraith instead of moc#(but i feel like he appears so often that he's better saved for a ch 3 xD)#pre-pristine cut Damsel & Prisoner also couldn't be done in one playthrough since doing one locks you out of the other Grey route#(not to mention both give Cold)#in pristine cut its fine as long as you branch to Cage for Prisoner#if you do prisoner -> grey you can't do damsel and must do witch -> thorn for smitten#since HEA loses a voice#(and obviously if you do prisoner -> grey spectre is out too)#and also paranoid since you have to do opportunist for smitten#and paranoid can only get you cold or opportunist
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
As You Always Were
A very silly fic based on a convo I had with @gabessquishytum about Dream being an idiot but in a gender affirming way lol
Read on AO3
~~~~~~~~~
Hob felt like a teenager in a lifetime movie, but he was choosing to lean into it.
Gripping the bathroom sink with both hands, he stared himself down in the mirror. “You can do this,” he said to his reflection, “You deserve to live your truth. You love yourself. Even if things don’t go the way you want, you’ll survive it. You’re sexy and you know it.”
Nodding to himself, he turned away from the mirror and began pacing his flat, looking for anything left to clean or organize.
He was going to come out to his boyfriend today.
It had been two months since he and Dream became official. They had known each other in some capacity for much longer. They shared a lot of mutual friends, but for a long time Dream didn’t tend to join large group get-togethers, so Hob only saw him occasionally. Then this past semester they had both ended up in a class together for the first time. Despite studying vastly different subjects, this particular course was required and both had managed to miss it when they were underclassmen. And now, as they entered their final year of university, they both needed to complete it in order to graduate. Drawn to any remotely familiar face, they had sat together, and then started talking more, and then slowly fallen for each other.
The past months had been amazing, full of sweet dates and kisses and hand holding and Dream being nothing but understanding when Hob hesitated to go any farther. But Hob wanted to go farther, had been burning out of his skin with the need to touch every part of Dream and be touched in return.
He just… needed to let Dream know what to expect when he took his clothes off.
Stalking through the living room, he moved the books on his coffee table this way and that, as if it would make any sort of difference. It’s not like it was the first time Hob had let someone know he was a trans man. He’s had plenty of experience sharing that part of his life, with family, and friends, and hookups. It’s gone good, and bad, and all the levels in between.
So why was he so nervous about telling Dream?
He was being ridiculous. It’s not like he was worried about Dream hurting him or anything…
Groaning, he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to turn and flop face-down onto the couch. What a world he lived in, where he consciously felt grateful to not worry about being murdered. Sometimes he hated everything.
With a sigh, he pushed himself up, shaking his head and aggressively re-fluffing the pillows he had flattened with his brief pessimism. He wasn’t going to think about the world right now. This was just about him and Dream and their relationship. And, optimism aside- even just being logical and realistic in a way he so rarely was- he didn’t think things would go badly, per say. Dream was gay, and had always been an open supporter and ally for the trans community. Worst case scenario, even if Dream decided he didn’t want to date someone with Hob’s body, he was certain they could remain friends.
Turning on his heel, Hob speed walked to the kitchen and began wiping down the counters for the third time.
Could they stay friends? He wanted to say yes, to say they could move on from this little bump in the road, but the truth was, even after such a short amount of time, if they broke up Hob would be heartbroken. He had fallen hard for Dream… could he really go back to being friends with him after knowing what it was like to kiss him and hold him? What if it was too much, hurt too badly to take that step back, and then he lost not only his boyfriend, but his best friend? And their lives were so entwined, they shared much of the same friend group, would he lose them, too? Choosing Dream over him because Hob was clearly the one being ridiculous and overemotional?
Catastrophizing, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his therapist rang in his head.
He nearly jumps out of his skin at the tentative knock on his door, glancing at the clock to see that, yes, he has spent the entire morning worrying and fussing and it is in fact the time he asked Dream to come over.
Hob honest to God straightens his shirt. As though that will help.
What does help is opening the door and seeing the subtle way Dream brightens. No matter how stoic he tries to be, Dream has always been terrible at hiding how very fond he is of Hob, something Hob is eternally grateful for. It’s nice to have the reassurance. Especially now.
“Hello Hob,” he smiles, giving him a quick peck as Hob gestures for him to enter. He takes two steps inside before halting, raising an eyebrow as he glances around Hob’s impeccable flat. He’s been here before, he knows this isn’t the usual state of things. “It seems you were productive today.”
Hob laughed nervously, which only made Dream turn his gaze to look at him curiously, “Ah, yeah, you know, the motivation just sort of hit, haha.”
Dream frowned slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding rapidly, Hob starts herding Dream into the living room, “Yeah, absolutely, I just-” Dream allows him to gently push him to sit on the couch, “I mean, I am fine, there’s just something I wanted to talk to you about,” he paces in front of Dream for a moment as his boyfriend’s head moves to follow him silently, “And it’s nothing bad. Or, or at least I don’t think it is. It just… it just is, y’know?”
He turns back to look at Dream and finds him staring, blinking slowly in carefully reigned in confusion, “No. I don’t know. What’s going on?”
Hob released a shuddering breath, dropping down to sit a respectable distance away from Dream on the couch. “Okay, I…” Hob wrung his hands together, “I had a whole speech planned, but I didn’t write it down and now I can’t remember any of my talking points, so I… I’m just gonna say it.”
Dream nodded, brow furrowed in concern as Hob closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m transgender.”
Even just saying the words made his chest feel lighter. It was out in the open now. Whatever happened, happened.
And what happened was Dream reaching out to gently cover his tense hands with one of his own.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Opening his eyes, Hob looked over, and his breath caught in his chest at the soft smile Dream was giving him, the one he only showed Hob, “I know that must have been hard,” Dream continued, running his thumb over Hob’s knuckles, “thank you for trusting me with that.”
“So,” Hob’s voice was breathless, a smile slowly creeping onto his face, “So you’re okay with it?”
“Of course!” Dream took both of Hob’s hands into his, eyes wide and anxious in a way Hob had come to recognize meant he was afraid of being misunderstood, “Of course I’m okay with it! I’m sorry if I ever made you think I wouldn’t be. I l-...” He swallowed thickly, “I care about you so much, Hob. This doesn’t change that at all.”
Hob couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the cut off confession. Dream had warned him of his struggles with love, especially with “falling too fast”. Despite Hob reassuring him that Hob also had a history of falling far faster than some would deem reasonable, Dream still tiptoed around it, always wary of scaring Hob off. So it meant something that he had come so close to slipping.
“I care about you, too,” Hob leaned forward to press his forehead against Dream’s shoulder, letting out a relieved laugh, “God, I was so nervous!”
Dream pet his hair, “Understandable. I know it’s a big deal. But I promise you have nothing to worry about.”
For a few minutes they stay pressed together, Dream a comforting presence as Hob let the adrenaline bleed from him. When he finally pulled back, they smiled at each other. Before he had a chance to lean in to kiss him, Dream spoke again.
“So,” he tilted his head questioningly, “should I use she/her pronouns from now on?”
Hob could feel the record scratch in his brain.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Shook his head, “What?”
Dream frowned, “I just meant in private. I wouldn’t change pronouns in public if you’re not ready for that. I’d never want to out you. Although I’d be more than happy to support you whenever you want to begin social transitioning.”
“Transitioning?” Hob was still waiting for his brain to restart. He felt like he was in the twilight zone. Dream was smart, Dream was studying astrophysics, there was simply no way-
“I’m sorry,” Dream bit his lip nervously, “I don’t mean to make assumptions. I just want to make sure that when we’re together I refer to you as you want. Would you prefer they/them? She/they?”
“What? No. What??” Hob shook his head rapidly as he realized that no, this wasn’t a dream, this was actually happening, “No, Dream, it’s the other way around!”
“...They/she?”
“No!” And even as he yelled the word, Hob’s face split into a grin and he burst out laughing. Dream blinked in confusion, looking like he didn’t know whether to be offended or not, and it only made Hob laugh harder.
“Dream, babe, sweetheart,” Hob gasped for breath, trying to pull himself together and failing, “I’m a trans man! I’ve already transitioned, that’s what I was trying to tell you!”
For a moment Dream just stared, blinking slowly like a cat. Like a particularly dumb orange cat.
“... He/him, then?”
All Hob could do was keep laughing.
Slowly, Dream began to giggle too, which only made Hob laugh harder, which made Dream laugh, and the vicious cycle continued until they were both doubled over with tears on their faces.
“You are the smartest person I know, how are you such a himbo?” Hob exclaimed.
“Shut up!” Dream shoved him playfully, “I was being supportive!”
Hob couldn’t resist. He threw himself forward, tackling Dream back onto the couch, allowing himself to lay on top of him as he kissed him clumsily, barely suppressing his grin enough to press their lips together, “God, I love you so much.”
A laugh caught in Dream’s throat, his eyes widening. Hob doesn’t want to pressure him, so he smiles, leaning in to rub their noses together, coaxing a soft giggle from him. He just wants to make him comfortable in the wake of a confession that he knows is a lot for Dream, he’s not expecting anything back right now.
He thinks maybe it’s that sentiment that allows Dream to look up at him and reply, “I love you, too.”
“Yeah?” Hob grinned, leaning back so he is sitting up and stradling Dream’s hips, “Even though- and I can’t believe I have to say this outloud but now I have to make absolutely sure you understand- I have a cunt?”
Dream sputtered, face flushing at Hob’s bluntness. And yet, even as he pouts, he nods, “Yes. I love you, however you are.”
“You would love me if I was a worm?” Hob teased.
Dream nodded solemnly, replying completely seriously, “I would love you if you were a worm.”
Hob’s grin softened, and he leaned down to kiss Dream again.
And then, feeling bold and brave and loved, he grinned mischievously.
“I hope you know I’ll be telling this story at our wedding.”
(Years later, Hob will end the story by telling their guests about how Dream smacked him in the face with a pillow.)
#the sandman#dreamling#my writing#trans Hob#Dream is a little confused but he got the spirit#I considered waiting longer to post this since CHBB stuff literally JUST happened#but I'm impatient lol
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
pull me out from the depths — anakin skywalker
summary — you were friends before the darkside enticed you. you meet again and are forced to come to terms with reality.
warnings — sith!fem!reader, fluff, mentions of violence, angst, jedi!anakin
requested by — anon <3
YOU REMEMBER IT SO CLEARLY, the day you let the dark side wrap its spindly fingers around your heart. you went from feeling powerless and insignificant to powerful and important. the pain that held residence in your soul was replaced by the soaring feeling of power. for a moment, you were unstoppable.
the jedi never fell to the hand of the chancellor, instead, he ran, escaping to a far-off planet to build his empire. he took you with him since you swore allegiance that day to the monster behind the curtain. as powerful and full as you felt, there was a void in your soul. before you accepted the dark side, you and anakin skywalker were friends. you trained together and completed campaigns together. except he was the chosen one, the one who was believed to destroy the sith. he was kind, and fearless, but had a gentle touch. you loved him, and it brought about your downfall.
you’ve had many encounters with your old friend since that day. lightsaber duels, harsh words, even barely missing each other whenever you were both on the same planet.
you were on the same planet now, and you were saber locked with the handsome jedi in front of you.
his saber was a bright blue against your angry red. your eyes bore into his, attempting to read his mind, get into his head a little, but you knew anakin. you knew he spent a long time putting up mental blocks so his mind couldn’t be read, you knew that he prided himself in the ability to ward off attacks on the mind. he was a strong warrior, but so were you.
“give up, skywalker, we all know you almost did,” your voice comes out as a hiss, pushing him off of you. you watched as he took a step back, and in that moment of vulnerability, you swung towards him, capturing his saber in another lock.
“i wasn’t the one who fell,” he seethed, using all of his strength to stay upright. he wouldn’t deny it; you’d gotten stronger. your hands wrung your saber as you bore down on him, your pain and your hatred a driving force for your duel. he hated to see it, he hated how much pain you were in and he didn’t even know it. you were right, though, anakin was tempted by the pleasures of the dark side, but he didn’t fall into them. you did, and his heart broke for you.
your sabers separated again, and you engaged in more of a duel. the loud crashing of sabers filled your head, pushing you forward. your steps were deliberate, filled with menace and malice. his were light, intent, and defensive in every step he took. your expression was wrung into anger and confusion, pain swimming in your eyes. memories flooded your mind as you swung at anakin, anger making your moves sloppy and predictable.
anakin swung, his saber crashing down on top of yours. you stumbled, losing your footing. you wouldn’t be seen as weak, you couldn’t. you pushed back, arms straining as you fought. you gritted your teeth, hissing through them as anakin’s strength prevailed.
“i don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” his voice came through like a whispering wind, warm and comforting. it was supposed to be inviting, and for a time it was, but times changed. you had changed.
“i don’t believe you,” you seethed. anakin bared his teeth, pushing you down. he wished he had the power to change fate, but he didn’t. no one did. your footing slipped, and you cast a glance down. fighting on the edge of a cliff wasn’t the best idea, especially when the depths below were welcoming you, beckoning you closer.
you answered that call once before.
you managed to gain your footing, only in time for anakin to crash his saber against yours, sending you backwards. the wind whipped around you, and with a final pull, you used the force to bring anakin with you. if you were going down, he was too. your heart was thudding in your ears, fear taking over your body. you watched as anakin fell, his expression laced with fear. he looked like a boy, someone who was vulnerable and needed to be cared for. in that moment, which you believed were your final moments, you caught a glimpse of what could have been. if you hadn’t fallen to the dark side, if you hadn’t fallen for the emperor’s tricks.
reality slammed into your chest, literally. your back slammed against the ground, knocking the wind out of you. as you choked on air, clawing at the air around you, you watched anakin hit the ground too. as breath filled your lungs again with a dramatic gasp, you gathered what little strength you had to sit up and look around. the night sky was littered with stars and two moons hung. a glow was cast on the beach, a whisper riding the wind across the sand. this was different. where were you?
“anakin?” you called out, panic rising in your tone. a very familiar tone, anakin would say. he looked around, the pain in his back spreading. he heard your voice, your tone flashing him back to a time where things were simpler. you were you, not contaminated by the dark side.
“i’m alive, thanks,” he stated, rolling onto his side. as he sat up, he watched you. he should be bitter, knowing your intent. you tried to kill him, taking him down with you.
you sat there in silence, your body relaxing into the sand. your eyes were cast out to the waters, watching as the glow of the moons rode the waves. it was mesmerizing and soothing, like ointment on a burn.
“why?” anakin asked you, bringing his eyes to look at you. your physical appearance changed, looking stronger and more menacing. your eyes weren’t the same beautiful color as they were before, instead an angry red color.
his question would haunt you for the rest of your life. you had your reasons and you thought they were good reasons.
“i had my reasons,” you stated plainly.
“what reasons? what was so important that you had to give up on the jedi and join him?” anakin argued, facing you now. he still sat away from you, making sure space was between you in case you got up and tried to kill him. again. he stunned you with his line of questioning; he made a valid point.
“i was powerless, anakin. my master died, and no one wanted to take up my training. so, i never finished it. no one believed i could do it, and i saw so many people die. my family was slaughtered, my friends, i couldn’t watch it anymore,” you started, the memories pooling to the surface, “he offered me a way to cope, and it sounded better than what i was getting,” you added softly.
anakin knew about the death of your master. it was a brutal death, he knew that. you never told him the details, explaining that ‘it was not a jedi’s role to dwell on the past.’
“what happened?” he asked you, scooting a little closer to you. so, you told him. you told him about grievous capturing you, about watching your master die in front of you, and about how you did absolutely nothing to help. it wasn’t like you could anyways; you were bound in chains.
anakin sat there, stunned. he’d heard the story, but he didn’t know you were the padawan left behind. he didn’t know that you dealt with the pain and guilt by yourself. he turned away from your eyes, looking down at the sand. he always hated sand, how it got everywhere, but it wasn’t the most important thing right now. he turned back to look at you, meeting your eyes. they weren’t an angry red color anymore, they were the beautiful hue they were before the dark side poisoned you. you were you again, at least getting there.
“i’m so sorry,” he whispered. he was right next to you now, and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. he was warm, he always was. you sighed, letting your shoulders sag. the anger behind that day drove you for so long, the guilt ate you alive. you were tired, and whatever planet you were on was making you see that.
“i’ve let the guilt eat at me for too long,” you admitted. anakin watched with hope in his eyes, begging you to come home.
“we didn’t help,” he confessed. if he’d known, he’d try to. others did know, the council, his master, they all knew but didn’t help. he tried not to let his own anger kindle.
“no, but i didn’t say anything either,” you agreed. silence sat between you, the feeling of wanting more sitting in both of your chests. you wanted to go back, but would they take you? anakin wanted you to come home, but would you take his hand?
after a while, anakin stood up. he offered you his hand. you flicked your eyes from his hand to his eyes, seeing the kindness and warmth in them, traits that made you fall in love with him at the temple. you took his hand, and he helped you stand up.
“water looks nice,” he commented. you raised an eyebrow at him.
“what does that-” you were cut off by anakin running full speed at the ocean, you in tow. you’d be laughing if there wasn’t one small thing: you never learned how to swim. yes, they had swimming lessons at the temple and they were a part of your training, but it’s been a while and you didn’t do that well, to begin with.
“anakin, wait-” you called as the water hit your body. it was cold, washing over you and opening up your senses. it enveloped you, thrashing you around. fear rose in your chest as you were cast underwater, panic sitting in your stomach as air failed to reach your lungs. this was nature’s revenge, wasn’t it? you’ve committed atrocities for so long nature wanted to get even. you didn’t blame her, you weren’t the kindest to mother nature.
a hand grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled you above the water. panic rose in anakin’s face as he watched you inhale, gasping for air. your hands softly closed around your throat, tears brimming your eyes as you tasted the sweet flavor of oxygen.
“i thought you could swim!” anakin said, pulling you both to shallower water.
“i never said that,” you snapped back, now freezing. your arms wrapped around yourself as you stood in thigh-deep water, watching as anakin recovered. he thought he lost you, for real too. he ran a hand through his wet curls, nodding as he came to a decision.
“then it’s time i teach you,” he stated. you gave him a look, raising your eyebrows and scoffing.
“no,”
“come on, y/n, it’s a life skill,” he teased. it felt natural, all of this. you felt like friends again, teasing each other after sparring sessions. you felt normal, and it filled you in all the right places. it’s what you’ve been missing.
“fine,” you agreed, not being able to help the smile on your face as you watched anakin pump his fist at his side. for the next hour, you think, he taught you how to swim. treading water, using your arms and your legs to propel you, and even how to control your breathing. it was the hardest when anakin’s hands were on your waist, helping keep you afloat whenever you’d falter.
after a while of practicing, you were finally able to swim on your own. as embarrassing as it felt, you didn’t feel judged by anakin. he’d tease you here and there, but it was normal.
“see? i told you you could do it,” anakin met you, a smirk growing on his face. you rolled your eyes as you treaded water with tired legs.
“yeah whatever,” you scoffed. you felt light, as if nothing could touch you. your eyes flicked over anakin, watching the glow of the moon reflect in his eyes, casting a beautiful hue to his skin. he was beautiful, he always was.
“what?” he asked softly.
“nothing,” you covered up, “let’s get back to the shore, i think we forgot we don’t know where we are,” you added. you found your way back to the sand, trudging up to where you were once sat. anakin followed behind you, sitting next to you.
“y/n,” he started. he looked over at you, sensing the turmoil in you. the light was pulling you back, he could see it. he wanted you to come back home, to come back to him. you turned to face him, your expression soft and inviting. there you were.
“i never thought you were helpless,” he commented, “i always thought you were strong, kind, and adaptable,” he finished. when he looked at you, he saw strength, he saw kindness, he saw someone struggling. his chest heaved with deep intakes of breath, realization settling in. his affection for you, his love for you, never subsided. even when you left, turning away from him and the light side.
you didn’t know what to say to him. you just looked at him, feeling your hard heart melt. you slowly took his hand, and with his other he caressed your face. warmth exploded in your face, stretching down your neck and your body. he’s always had this affect on you.
“can i kiss you?” he asked you. you were appalled, but you did want to. you wanted him to kiss you until your days were up.
“yes,” you answered simply, and as you finished saying the word, he pressed his lips to yours. he tasted of the ocean, of warmth. his lips fit against yours, pulling you in closer. you wanted to stay there forever, held by his lips and his arms, but you couldn’t. you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“come home,” he asked you, begged you. there was that tug again, the voice inside your head.
“ok,” you whispered, letting anakin pull you out of the depths of your own soul.
good golly this was a long one. i sort of deviated from the request a little (so sorry anon!!) but i hope you still enjoy! it’s been a minute since i’ve written a fic on here, but i hope it’s still worthy material LOL. enjoy!
#star wars#star wars imagines#star wars imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker imagines
113 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi i need a ada dazai x reader x beast dazai smut please ;-; or otherwise with the same idea except that it's Chuuya x reader x beast Chuuya smut I'm eager to read and I love what you write I would be happy if you can write it 🙏
I have a feeling both Beast Dazai and Port Mafia Dazai might be similar in some senses here is the link to what I wrote of dazai X Reader X Port Mafia Dazai. I will mostly be writing this in headcanon form and not a storyline. ( cause too many ideas that way and I am already too late in answering this request sorry😭😭 )
I just loved these requests I did not know why I did not do them before !!!🥳😅
Dazai X Reader X Beast Dazai :
Both looked the same at the same time not the same, the time travel machine which brought both you and your ADA detective lover “Weird never knew there would be a day I would see someone like me with a lover “ Beast Dazai scoffed scanning you from head to toe.
It was going to take some time for your friends in the other universe to fix the machine and take you two back but that did not matter here. The Dazai were fixated on making sure they stayed at the port mafia headquarters.
Your lover broke down a little when he first saw his dear friend Oda point a gun at him thinking he was beast Dazai but after escaping from him you were busy comforting your lover by riding him.
��Osamu~” you moaned hands on his shoulder while he buried his face in the little space on your neck not looking at you and it had been like this for a while “Please look at me “ you would beg.
Legs giving out and pleasure fading due to your slow moments “Hurry y/n” Dazai said not lifting his face. You thought he was crying but he was feeling a lot more inside “Please I feel scared look at me “ you said and this time losing all patience you grabbed his hair with a harsh tug pulling his face from your neck where red bruises adored your skin.
Wet eyes, heart-shattering look, mouth quivering and biting his bottom lip Dazai looked at you, your heart squeened very painfully. All thoughts about your pleasure flew out of the window you wanted him to feel safe and loved not like this.
You have never seen him like this, but now that you have seen him like this you don't like it “Please… he did not know, Oda would never do that you know right ?” you said rubbing your soft hands on his checks as he nuzzled his face “ mhh… I do ….he hated me y/n “ his voice quivered and shook.
That's it you bounced a harsh one making him hiss and look at you confused “You only see me now, only me “ you said pushing him onto the big black bed and started moving again. Your legs hurt but you did not brother.
Seeing your determination just made the man choke up more but holding your hips he helped “Harder love “ he mumbled as you both were near the end, the room door opened with a bang “What the hell happened I hea–” Beast Dazai paused capturing the scene in front of him.
Dazai quickly got up making you lose your balance but his hand held you in place “You…” he said while you scrabbed and hugged your lover tight “Now now …you sad huh ?” Beast Dazai asked seeing the looking at his other self.
He knew the feeling, he knew it better than anyone and he would also like to forget it, closing the door he removed his coat “I am sad too..” he pouted in faux affinity. You looked at your lover worried about this new development, it has been 4 days since you both came here and now what is this ?!
Your lover said nothing and moved inside letting his other self climb up behind you naked and rubbing his dick on your soft ass” mhh” you whimpered feeling your lover thrust in while the other clutched your breasts and twisted your nipples.
Beats Dazai groaned in an animalistic way making you shiver but soon you found yourself mouth stuffed with your lover and the other self pounding into you at a rough pace.
Your neck hurt and your back arched in the most breathtaking orgasms that they pulled out of you taking trunks to pound your pussy. It was not very different but Beast Dazai had a certain roughness your lover did not possess ( or so you thought ) and that had you feeling very different.
After hours of helping both of them feel had you pass out in the middle to wake up to both of them on either side of your bed.
In the next 3 days, your friends fixed the machine and you were back to your universe, but sometimes you would think about that night asking your lover to get rougher with you.
“You can .. it won't hurt, “ you said shyly while Dazai contemplated your new requests, “ finally I can be…no I can easily hurt her it is not good, “ your lover thought and shook his head “Bella it is easy for me to hurt you and I won't like it “ his voice filled with concern and love.
But driven by lust and hunger you shouted “Then do it ! For heaven's sake what am I a little kid huh !” you shouted pushing your hair behind annoyed. But before you could open your eyes you were flipped and on your stomach hands held tight on your back and Dazai dangerously close to your ear “Then don't complain later “The soft and sweet warmth was gone, and the cold brutal tone made you shiver with anticipation “ yes sir “
“That's a good girl “ Dazai smirked at the new awakening of you which just turned out to be more advantageous for him.
Chuuya X Reader X Beast chuuya :
There won't be many differences between both of them in the style of fucking, both are rough but sweet.
But one thing is for sure if you are dating anyone of them they would be more focused on making sure they did better than the other.
His dick hitting parts that you had no idea but now painfully going near your cervix you shouted for him to slow down. But a hand held your neck and pulled you up “Who is better ?” Beast chuuya asked in a sexy voice which almost made you feel like you could cum on his voice alone “Feels good …..good” you mumbled.
Mind all hazy while the other chuuya using your ass smacked it and kissed you glaring at the Beeast chuuya, it felt so good.
You did not like the idea of getting shared but here it's chuuya and chuuya and you feel good so it does not matter.
Unable to breathe due to the intense kiss you squirmed gaining a smack on your clit “Stay still slut “ Chuuya mumbled while Beast chuuya chuckled “Oh yeah, think you are better than me ?” he challenged.
This made the other redhead thrust harder and faster, your whole body shook and jerked with the intense force. Ass and clit red and puff a little painful from the hard thrusts into your ass and cunt while each focused on ripping out as many orgasms as they can give you as your milked their dicks dry “Harder.~~” you mumbled.
Chest and neck filled with red and purple bites “Pretty “ Beast chuuya said running his hands over your chest and pulling your nipples with a harsh tung getting a whimper “Good doll “
Both of them chuckled seeing your fucked out face and state of mind where nothing other than a dick was all you wanted “Yes doll “ both said at the same time, surprising each other but soon smiled “I think we can find out with the number of marks tomorrow as to who is better “chuuya said.
“Challenged accepted “ Beast chuuya said smirking, leather-gloved hands held your neck “Heard it doll, you better tell us “
#bungo stray dogs fanart#bungou stray dogs smut#dazai smut#bungou stray dogs dazai#bsd dazai#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd smut#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya bsd#chuuya x dazai#chuuya fanart#bsd#soukoku#skk fanart#dazai fanart#chuuya x you#chuuya x fem!reader#chuuya x y/n#chuuya nakahara smut#dazai osamu bsd#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#dazai x reader#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya
153 notes
·
View notes
Note
May I have something where it dort of explores past sh? Where the reader is cutting mango or avocado I the palm of her hand and cuts through the shin into her hand and she just stands there for ages just staring as she's bleeding weighing up how much she can get away with on accident without frank bringing in Matt the Human Lie Detector, and she goes in for a second swipe when frank comes back from the shower and she tries playing it off like she just cut her hand and hea right up in there wanting to help but he notices the partal deeper in the top end so its been done over again? Right over the crease over her palm fluff and comfort please?
THE WAY I HELD YOUR HAND ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You give in to the urges and Frank helps you with the aftermath.
Warnings: SELF-HARM, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames, language
Word count: 1.2k
Author’s note: This is a heavy one, so read with caution (or skip entirely if you feel like it might be too much!) I’m sending you so much love anon, I know from experience what a struggle it can be to stay sober but I believe in you! Stay strong, you deserve to heal <3
With Frank’s support, you had managed to abstain from harming yourself for a while now. He gave all the credit to you — he was just along for the ride, and you were the one who did all the work. Nevertheless, he had been a massive comfort, always distracting you when you felt the urge and encouraging you to try again if you fell back into the cycle. You wanted to get rid of the habit of hurting yourself, anyway, but he gave you extra motivation to do it, as you really wanted to prove to him that you could do it and make him proud in the process. Of course, he was proud of you no matter what, but whatever it took to give you the boost you needed, he was okay with.
So, with him constantly by your side, you started to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction of hurting yourself and grow out of it. It had been a long while since you had succumbed to the compulsion, and you didn’t think you would lose yourself to it anytime soon.
That was why you were surprised yourself with how quickly you changed your mind. It had been a long, tiring day and maybe that explained your struggle to slice through the mango you had grabbed in the need of a snack — either way, the knife slipped and in the blink of an eye, you had cut your palm open. Blood began seeping out and you froze on the spot, unable to move or react in any way.
You stood there, staring at the wound that painted your skin redder by the second. You dropped the mango on the kitchen counter and swallowed hard, your thoughts laser-focused on what had been an accident but suddenly felt so fateful. Instead of trying to stifle the bleeding, your first instinct was to watch it dribble down your wrist and wonder how long you could drag this out. You were thrown right back into that old state of mind where you let the pain linger, where it felt like you were punishing yourself, and deservedly so.
You knew Frank would worry. And you also knew that he wouldn’t buy any flimsy stories about it being an accident — which it was, at first, but before you fully even processed what you were doing, you were swiping the knife across your skin once more. All those old feelings came rushing back, causing you to lose track of your surroundings. You couldn’t focus on anything else except the mixture of relief and regret pounding at your head and heart, and you let the moment go on for longer than you should have.
”Sweetheart, what happened?” Frank’s worried voice broke through your trance, his large hand coming to cradle yours with his eyes wide and alert. You hadn’t noticed him getting out of the shower, and immediately, you felt embarrassed about being caught, but you couldn’t get a single word out. ”Darlin’, you’re bleedin’. Shit”, he went on, his usually calm voice trembling with panic. You didn’t blame him, there was a lot of blood dripping onto the counters, after all.
”It—it was an accident”, you stammered out, shaking off your daze as you watched Frank grab the kitchen towel and wrap it around your hand to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.
”Gotta be more careful, sweetheart. This ain’t just a small cut”, he acknowledged with a heavy heart, his protectiveness kicking in as he kept squeezing the towel against your palm. The burning pain made you grimace, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in, and you felt horrible guilt blossom in your chest as you realized you had undone all your progress within moments.
You fell into silence, fearing how Frank would react if you admitted you had deliberately hurt yourself, but he figured it out even without your admission. He gently removed the towel after a couple of minutes of pressure, and above the bigger cut, he could see the second one you had made on impulse. He frowned, inspecting your hand before looking up at you, only to instantly pick up on your troubled expression.
”Baby, I don’t think this was an accident”, he probed gently, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were, but he also couldn’t leave it unmentioned. His heart raced in his chest, concern for you coursing through his veins as he watched you look away from him. ”Hey, hey, hey. Talk to me, sweet girl, what’s goin’ on? You haven’t been’ doin’ this for a while now. Did somethin’ happen?” he went on, tilting his head to catch your stare but you were too ashamed to face him.
”It really was an accident at first. But then I… I just got reminded of what it was like and I couldn’t control the urge and—and I just…”, you rambled, not even entirely sure what had come over you, what would be good enough justification. A tear slipped from your eye and you sniffled, wishing you could undo what you had done, but at the same time feeling like you deserved further pain for your mistake.
Nodding in understanding, Frank reached with one hand to wipe your cheeks while supporting your palm in the other. ”Alright, sweetheart. I’m real sorry I wasn’t here to help you through it. But I’m here now and I’mma make sure we get this all cleaned up and we can keep talkin’ about it, yeah?” he promised, not a hint of judgment in his voice as he calmly reassured you.
”I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I was doing so well”, you spoke shakily, so upset that you would have to start all over again. But Frank didn’t see it that way.
”Oh, baby, you’re still doin’ well. It’s a setback, but it ain’t the end of everything you worked so hard for. Givin’ in once doesn’t mean you’re a lost cause. You can always stop again. You’re incredibly strong, hear me?” he insisted, having complete faith in you, and it soothed your thumping heart a little to hear it from him.
”I feel like I let you down”, you confessed quietly, finally looking him in the eye, and his heart ached at your words. He understood that he played a big part in your recovery, but he hadn’t realized just how much you valued his opinion and support.
”You could never. Never, got that? I’m always in awe of you, sweet darlin’, and nothin’ will ever change that. I can’t even imagine how tough it gotta be to fight the urge but you do it, anyway. That’s fuckin’ amazing”, Frank swore, meaning every word. He cupped your face with his free hand and leaned in to kiss your forehead, staying connected to you for a moment before pulling back and locking eyes with you.
”I love you, yeah? I know you can do this”, he added, and with a careful nod, you promised to at least try. He gave you the smallest of smiles, almost impossible to even notice, but you knew just how much care and affection it contained for you.
”Thanks, Frankie”, you returned the smile, warming his heart.
”There’s my girl”, he praised before turning back to your hand. ”Think we gotta pay a visit to the emergency room, sweetheart. Might need stitches”, he declared, and sighing, you supposed he was right.
But with him by your side, it would be okay, and you would bravely fight the urge next time it would dawn on you.
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
i’ve been obsessing over the idea of jake being so protective over human!reader 😣 they’re just so much smaller than everyone! can you imagine how feral he would go if they were to get hurt? if SOMEONE were to hurt them? he would be throwing hands, no hesitation 🫣 i’d love to see where you could take this!
Omg you're so right nonnie. He would be constantly be looking out for you and he just can't help but worry, you're so much smaller than him and other na'vi!!
"Watch it." Jake hisses from behind you, ears flat to the thick of his hair.
A much younger na'vi, still dwarfing you in comparison, rushes out of the way with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry!" He exclaims before running off to catch up with a few other males.
Jake's narrowed eyes follow him until the group of young na'vi are far out of range before turning back to you. He strokes a hand from the top of your head to the dip of your back.
"Sorry about that, kid." He sighs, running a hand through his hair, "some of 'em forget you're a lot smaller than they are. Need to remind 'em to be more careful..."
"It's okay," you smile softly, holding his forearm.
Jake scoffs at that, "Yeah, it's okay, Ti'll you're being trampled by a stampede of blue stripes and tails."
You giggle bashfully at that, and Jake smiles, pulling you into his side.
"C'mon, let's go get dinner. How's that sound?"
—
"I'm really okay, it's not a big deal–" you try
"Not a big deal? Your wrist is broken!" Neytiri shakes her head as she grabs a wad of gauze, "Wait ti'll Jake hears of this." Her tongue presses to the inside of her cheek.
Jake was the one person you didn't want to find out about this.
"No, no! Please don't tell him." You bite at your bottom lip.
Neytiri turns to you, almost as if she's about to scold you once more before she lets her words roll over her tongue into a sigh. You're naive enough to think she'll take mercy upon you.
"Just... just try to be cleaned up before he gets back from the hunt." She offers, pushing you in the direction of the stored water bowls, following close behind.
"You know how he is." She kneels beside you, washing the dirt and forest grime from your skin, "he's very protective of you."
"I can tell."
"Y/n." Her tone falls serious and she turns you by the tip of your chin to meet her eyes, "Jake has lost many loved ones in his life, please try to be careful for him, losing you would devastate him." She searches your eyes for a moment before the sound of rushing footsteps approach the den.
"Be good." Neytiri nods to you before moving back to her seat by the fire.
You hear Jake's worried voice before you see him enter into the den, searching for you.
"M'here, Jake."
When he pulls back, he cups your cheeks in his hands. "Kiri told me you're hurt. Are you okay?" His amber eyes are wide and stricken with worry as he begins to search over your face for any harm.
Jake rushes to you in quick strides, falling to his knees and pulling you into his arms. He holds you like that for a long moment, squeezing his hands around different parts of your body as though he were making sure you were still there.
Ever since he became a father, there was heavy weight of worry that seemed to write over his features and much younger cocky attitude. It was an interesting thing to see change within him over time.
You go to reasure him but are cut off by his anxious ramblings as he takes your arm into his grasp.
"Jesus, sweetheart," he runs the tips of his fingers over the bandages, and you jolt slightly, "that hurt?"
You nod softly, placing your hand to his shoulder, "m'okay, I promise." You nod again, "just took a little tumble is all."
And you can tell he doesn't believe that fib even for a second but he doesn't pressure you further.
Looking over the damage done to your wrist, he sighs through his nose, "ill have Norm and the guys from the lab come take a look at this. Neytiri,"
Her head pops up, "hm?"
"She tell you what happened?" He looks back at her over his shoulder.
She shakes her head.
Jake clicks his tongue, turning back to you. "Was it those boys again?" He asks, holding a hand at your hip and gently massaging soft circles with his thumb into your skin, "they bein' too rough around you again?"
You nod hesitantly and Jake pulls you into his lap almost instantly, cupping your head under his chin as he rocks you gently back and forth.
"Please don't get mad at them. They didn't mean to hurt me." You whisper into the warmth of his chest.
Jake doesn't say anything.
"Promise me you won't get mad." You pull back some to meet his tired eyes.
"I promise I won't get mad." He lets himself relax somewhat, sighing into the soft warm air of the hammock. "God, kid, I really thought I lost you or something." He pinches the bridge of his nose, "the way Kiri came runnin' at me when I got back." He shakes his head and you nod. "Don't go scarin' me like that again, okay?"
You nod, picking at the leather of his knife strap. "I'll be more careful next time."
"S'not you m'worried about being careful."
You can feel the vibrations of a low growl rumble in the thick of his chest and you let yourself sink into his hold. "You promised you wont get mad." You remind him.
"I won't."
He does get mad.
#jake sully#dilf jake sully#avatar#jake sully x reader#jake sully fluff#avatar fluff#jake sully x reader fluff
923 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 (nsfw)
𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
a/n: Been craving for Donna Beneviento lately and my mind will not rest unless I do something about it and this is the end result of that. Not beta read, darlings, we die like the maidens in the cellar.
summary: Donna's due for a haircut and then it turns into fucking because why tf not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
warning/s: NSFW. SMUT. Fingering. Oral Sex. Slight praise kink. (It's actually a little fluffy) SMUT AGAIN. No plot just fucking smut.
The kitchen floor is dirtied with trimmed hair, all black and silky. It’s that time again for her where she sits in her kitchen, her back ramrod straight. Beneath the makeshift gown that’s draped around her, Donna has been, well…fidgeting for the past five minutes since you sat her down and started cutting.
“Be still for me, cara mia.” and she listens, of course she listens. The anxious tapping of her fingers on her knee halts. She breathes out, calming herself. But something about having you so close and touching her, makes Donna lose it. Her knees start to bounce and keep her hands full of the fabric of her skirt.
Donna watches you with her good eye as you meticulously trim the ends of her overgrown bangs that frames her face exactly as they did since she was six years old and a mortal. She looks beautiful. Very beautiful.
“Donna, darling.” She watched you place a finger beneath her chin, in an attempt to catch her eye, “Have I not told you to be still?” blush creeps to her neck then to the apples of her cheeks, she feels the warmth of your breath as you lean closer just enough that you are bent at the waist to level with her face.
Your presence was all too consuming, it makes her head dizzy with the love spell you put her in. She wants to touch you though she refrained from doing such a thing, instead she fisted her hand tighter, the handful of fabric does nothing to relieve the yearning but at least it’s keeping her grounded and hands busy.
She looks stunning like this, you can see the purplish veins around the scarring, the visible greying of her skin, the pretty long lashes you adore, her soft lips albeit a little chapped. This woman needs to drink more. It’s funny how one could think an immortal body does not need to be cared for, to be tended and handled with fragile hands, to be kissed and loved…God, how wrong they were.
“Cara mia?”
Donna’s breath stilled, her heart was erratically beating so hard she feared it might tear out of her poor chest and jump right into your palms.
You brush the wispy bits of baby hair from her forehead, “Be still or I’ll have to punish you.” She blinks, opens her lips to say something but nothing comes out in protest.
“So what will it be, hmm? Are you going to be still now?” She holds your gaze for a second then nods.
Donna manages through until you’re done cutting her hair, her hands finally releasing the abused and wrinkled fabric.
You were busy tucking away the hair cutting tools, and sweeping the floor of the kitchen where it served as a small salon just a couple of minutes ago, due to the incredible natural lightning that’s pouring in from the windows. It’s only the part of this house that’s not void of light, because it’s your spot, it is where you linger more. When you’re done, you see Donna holding her veil, her hair up in a bun again.
She’s about to put it on, too shy and feeling too vulnerable without the piece of cloth but she felt your fingers curling around her wrist, “No, let me see how perfect you are, cara mia.” and her heart thumps again, “I want to see you.”
She abandons the cloth, and the moment her gaze lifts to your face she’s welcomed with a smile, “There’s no need for that when it’s just you and I, my love, unless of course you are uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable?” she watches as your brows knit together, your own eyes searching her face for any signs.
She grabs your hands firmly, “No!” her voice comes out raspy, deep from disuse. She profusely shakes her head and brings your hands to her lips. “No.” she says again, a little softer this time, more quiet like it was supposed to be just a thought. Kissing your hands, she shows you what she knows of affection, what little of it is left from years of only torment and abuse, of cruelty and manipulation.
“Hush, my love. I believe you.” You kissed her, and her body’s first instinct was to flinch away, but she didn’t. She stays right where she is and revels on the way your lips touch her face again kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, “You are perfect.”
Your lips are warm against hers, she can feel how alive your body is, how the little hairs along your arms stand and your skin prickled. She knows her hands are cold, just like the rest of her and you know she’s debating in her head whether to pull away, so you assured her that you are fine, that her touch is as warm as the sun can be… She does not believe that, of course, but she yielded anyway.
Donna gasps when you start to back her up the kitchen counter, your mouth still kissing her lips. With her arms now wrapped around your neck, she lets you guide her.
She knows what’s about to happen.
“Amore mio,” the counter top is cold and it’s piercing right through her palms as she now sits on it but it's only a small price to pay for what’s about to unravel in the next few seconds.
You lined yourself in between her thighs, caressing each and feeling how her body responds to your touch, “Donna,”
—
The kiss is as delicate as the hand that travels from your cheek down to your throat where it stays for a few moments, possibly feeling your pulse before it goes down your shoulder to the length of your arm, caressing your bicep.
It’s been a while since you’ve had her like this, so eager for affection, for your touch, for your mouth. For you.
She rests her face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in and kissing you lightly, a hand tangled in your hair. It pulls strings of sounds, sensual enough to elicit heat in her cunt.
After a moment you urge her to look at you, “Be good now and show me your face, come on.” you slip a hand to her cheek, guiding her to show you herself, “Let me see you, please?”
Donna lets you.
“There’s my beautiful girl.” At the compliment she can’t help but feel abashed, her cheeks reddening despite herself. The feeling of warmth wrapped on her cheek, the one that’s smooth and without a flaw, one that Donna lets you touch, was unlike anything she had ever felt. She indulges in it, leaning and closing her eye.
You rub the supple skin with the pad of your thumb, feeling so weak in the knees for this woman.
“So wonderful…” and there it is again, the flipping of her heart.
When your thumb tug at her lip, she automatically opens them, her eye going back up to watch you practically devour her with only your eyes alone and it elated her, it sends pleasant shivers down her spine, the heat in her stares intensifies just as the one in apex of her thighs. Thank the black God she’s sitting because if she’s not, she might have been too weak to keep herself upright.
All while your right hand is busy with her face, the left found its way underneath the heavy skirt, and straight right through her core. The cotton underwear is as damp as you expected, not that you expected any less because knowing her, she’d be leaking just from your touch alone.
A gasp echoes in your ears before it melts into sighs then moans.
“So wet already?” Donna whimpers, closing her eye. “Or have you been having lewd thoughts about me…mm? While I was cutting your hair wishing my hands were tucked somewhere else?”
She nods. Any verbal response is simply too much for her right now. “Oh, Donna.”
She watches as you retrieve your hand from between her legs, feeling how her wetness grazes the insides of her thighs from your fingertips making her shiver. Donna has never been so fucking wet like this, her arousal glossing your fingers in the most erotic way. It is a visual she cannot forget so soon.
You brought your fingers in your mouth, audibly sucking each, and showing her how much you fucking want her.
“Would you like to suck it too, baby?” You offered. A smirk curls into your lips, she’s considering it. Her gaze falling back and forth from your eyes to your fingers.
“Open your pretty mouth.”
Without any objections, she complied, opening her mouth just a gap and you slid one finger in. Her cheeks hallowed, like a vacuum sucking all what’s left of her on your finger. It made you bite your lip, your breathing fully stopped at the sight and sensation.
When she pulls, releasing your finger with a pop, she gives you a look, one that’s filled with hunger and you know right in the moment that you are done for.
—
The mess of jet black hair spilled on the counter, the buttons of her blouse flying everywhere but neither of you seems to care (especially her) you both have a goal: to relieve her of her blouse. You tried to be careful really—and patient, so patient as you undo the small, metal buttons one by one but they were so little for your fingers, too delicate and Donna was growing impatient, too. That was when she ripped it open, aiding you, her strength had your jaw hitting the floor.
Her arm was only halfway out her sleeve when the silk chemise came into view and her nipples were visibly hard and calling for attention, your hand uncaringly tugging the fabric, one breast out. She threw her head back, feeling your wet tongue flicking the hard bud, your hand squeezing her mound so eagerly.
Her fingers are locked in your hair, pulling at your scalp each time you’d tease her, biting instead of sucking. It’s driving her heart into a frenzy, her jaw slackened and her eye is as wide as they can get staring into the ceiling before it rolls behind her head. Nothing but deep guttural moans and hiss filling the kitchen.
The expanse of her chest is tinged with subtle pink colour, it looks well on her grey toned skin, even her nipples are rosy and mostly sore from how brutal you’ve taken her. Her breath heaves, one arm covers her forehead while the other remains tangled in your hair. You are both catching your breaths but none of you is done yet.
Donna raised her head to take a look at you, her fingers combing through your hair. You look back at her, smiling softly. “You okay there, baby?” She smiles in return, biting down on her lip. It’s the only answer you can get from her.
“You ready for another?”
Donna blushes again.
With the back of her hand silencing her moan, she gripped the ends of her skirt with the other.
You inhaled a lungful of air, her musky scent filling your nostrils making you instantly salivate. The sight of her pussy sending you to the edge. “Amore mio.” she whimpers, pushing your face forward, silently commanding you. “P-please.”
If it were any other day, you’d surely make her wait and tease her until she’s shivering and ready to implode but today, you are feeling quite as needy as her.
“I’ll take care of you.”
The gentle tap on her thigh is enough for her to get the message, she spreads them apart and the lips of her cunt separates just so, drenched and glistening only for you.
–
The first licks are gentle, the tip of your tongue merely going up and down the lips deliberately avoiding the clit. Donna cants her hips again and whines. You pause, smiling as Donna begins to be more and more confident about demanding what she wants and so you give in as a reward.
Using your thumb, you pull the hood of her clit just a little, exposing it. You bring your tongue to play with the bud, “oh–ah, p-please” She’s never been so verbal like this. You keep a slow, gentle pace for her, licking and sucking until the sounds of her thrashing mixed with her unrestrained moans fills the air, her thighs closing in on your head so soon. You lap at her, mercilessly sucking and dipping your tongue as far as you can and slurping her pussy.
Donna is just coming off from her high, breathing in as much as she can and when she feels your fingers drawing circles on her pussy, she can’t help but look down. The sunlight is warm on your face, it brings out the colour of your eyes, sweat covers your forehead. She can have you like this all day long.
and then you pushed, “Ah…” her lips fell apart again and her back hit the counter, her breath stilling for a couple of seconds before she let herself breathe again. Her eye shut closed.
You are two fingers deep in her cunt, feeling it flutter around your digits, swallowing you deeper and oh she’s nice and warm and just so awfully tight you can’t help but moan yourself. You peppered kisses on her thighs before you move your fingers in and out it goes, the squelching sound of her pussy makes up for the eerily quiet home.
It arouses you, it makes you fucking lose your mind, your own cunt desperate to be fucked but Donna’s pleasure is much more important right now.
Sensing her eye on you, you smirked when you looked up and caught her already looking, “That’s right, baby, watch me fuck your pussy. Come on, don’t look away now. I want you to see how much I love fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess for me, Donna.”
And Donna, ever so responsive, hums. She’s visibly melting with your words, with how tender even the most filthiest words coming out of your lips sounds like. She clutched on her skirt even firmer, bunching it until her belly button is showing. The patch of dark hair between her legs is soaked both from her arousal and your saliva.
“Oh, you want more? I’ll give you more, darling.”
Donna has no choice but to bit the back if her hand when your lips starts to leave hot wet kisses all over her abdomen, inching closer and closer to her cunt each time until you tongue slowly but firmly dragged to the length of her slit before circling her clit, your fingers pumping faster and faster.
Fuck, if the sound of her pussy being banged and all isn’t making you lose you fucking mind then the sounds she’s deliberately making will. “Fuck” you mutter, clearly out of breath as you urge her to sit up, still not taking you fingers out.
Neither of you wait for a second to recollect yourselves, Donna’s lips are sealed with your in a hot searing kiss, her finger buried in your hair.
“Amore mio,” she whispers in your ear, her cunt clenching so tight around you but keeps pushing, the burning of your muscles as you cross your limits is starting to take its toll on you but you keep pushing.
“Fuck!” You grunted and she nodded against the crook of your neck now.
“You’re mine.”
“Yes,” she says, the hotness of her breath tingles your skin, “I’m yours. Yours—oh fuck, please!”
“Come, my love. Cum all over me.”
Her nails dig into your scalp and back, it hurts but it doesn’t matter.
You pressed your face on the side of her head, one hand cradling her nape and you felt it gushing down your wrist. It’s wetter and slippier…
She comes.
#donna beneviento#donna benevento x reader#resident evil village#Donna is just baby girl#No beta read darlings so any mistakes will be ignored#donna beneviento smut#Forget about the dolls because i completely forgot about it even Angie
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 1 , Part 2
"Ghost, 'you there?"
Price said as he opened the door of Ghost's room, not finding surprising that his lieutenant was there instead in his house.
Ghost, who was sitting in a chair with his back facing the door, didn't even move at his captain voice calling him.
The older man sighed when his eyes landed on the glass of whiskey that he was holding. He entered, closing the door quietly. The room was only illuminated with just a dim light, giving the quiet man a more intimidating aura. If Price didn't know him, it would cause him a little surprise(not intimidation since Price has seen worse things than a guy with a skull mask).
He sat on his bed with his hands on his knees in front of Ghost, who hadn't taken his eyes off something he was holding.
"How much longer are you going to stay here? Do you know you have a home waitin' for ya'?"
Ghost finally stopped looking at the thing he had in his hand to look at his captain, who was with his brows furrowed but not in an angry expression.
" 'don't have a home."
My home was taken away the moment she went MIA.
His breathing began to grow more paused. That awful and familiar heavy feeling rose up from his chest through all his body. His fingers slowly put more pressure on his glass. The mask was down, he served himself a glass of whiskey to try and swallow that bitter sensation he always have when he thinks about her, but that didn't worked and caused him to lose interest in drinking that night.
Price just looked at him, not that look he always gives as a soldier, but as a friend that's worried about him. "Look, Simon. I know you want her back. Believe me, everyone wants her back. The team hasn't been the same since she left, but you can't let your emotions win the best of you. She wouldn't like you to be here drinking and swallowing your sorrow while having a home waiting for ya'."
Simon's eyes dropped to the petal he was holding in his hand. So soft and delicate, just like her eyes, her body, and her soul. He found it when he was taking a little stroll on his backyard, noticing the little red petal beside the flower he always looked at every day.
That was her flower.
She loved that flower so much. The instant she went MIA, he took responsibility for it. He would talk to it every day, as if the red flower would give him answers and tell him where she is.
His heart dropped when he saw the petal on the floor as a signal of losing hope.
A signal that he will never find her.
A signal that she will never return to him.
Ghost sighed. A shaky sigh. His world threatening to fall at any moment. The pillars that supported the last bit of sanity in his mind have started to grow cracks at the bases.
"Earlier today..." Ghost paused, trying to formulate his words. "I went to one of the old warehouses of the guy that kidnapped her owns. As I was searching for something that could lead me to her, I killed a few guys who worked for him. I also tortured two, but neither of them fucking knows a woman from the military in hands of that motherfucker."
Price sucked a breath as he hears those words, his pulse raising at an abnormal speed. Ghost didn't notify him that he was going to do something so dangerous without permission of his superiors.
That could cost the Captain's and the Lieutenant's job right there and then.
Instead of yelling or telling him that he's suspended for a least a month because of his reckless actions, Price just closed his eyes for a few seconds before he took the bottle of whiskey that was on the lieutenant's nightstand and drank a big shot of it.
Fuck, that's going to be a lot of paperwork for his ass.
Ghost passed his thumb over the petal, so lightly, afraid of breaking the little thing. It was almost as if somehow that red petal has some connection with her, and she can feel it.
He sighed again.
He missed her so much.
Price cleared his throat. His grip on the bottle tightened. "What did you do with the bodies?"
"I burned them."
Price just dropped his head low, probably thinking of his life choices before he took another sip from the bottle with those words. This time, he didn't stop drinking, trying to vanish with alcohol all the consequences and thoughts that were passing through his mind.
Ghost wasn't worried about the consequences or anything that came with his actions. When they took her away from him, a part of Simon died that day, only to be replaced with a void that would not go away until she's back. So, he gave those guys their destiny.
They are all gonna burn in hell.
And he will make sure of it.
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Masterlist here
I apologize for some grammatical errors. Any suggestions are welcomed. 🫶🏻
#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#cod mw2#task force 141#141 x reader#cod 141
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
you’re losing me — mat barzal
ok so I definitely impulse wrote this after listening to the song one too many times! (still listening to it, still sobbing about it) definitely check it out although it may be a bit hard to find haha taylor pls just release it
spoiler: this is a HEA bc I am incapable of writing/reading sad endings. my life sucks enough, my fictional world doesn’t need to either lol so not all aspects of the song are used/it’s not exactly the same as the song, it’s just inspired by it
word count: 3.9k warning: angsty, with hea
"I need a break."
"From what?"
"Us."
—————————
When you started dating your boyfriend Mat seven years ago you thought you were going to get married. Even with his busy schedule he was the most attentive, caring, and loving boyfriend you could have ever dreamed of. When he moved to New York, of course you were extremely happy for him. Playing in the NHL had been his dream since he was a kid, so you were very supportive, but you couldn't help but feel heartbroken over him moving across the country and leaving you. But ever since the day he landed in the city, he begged you to come live with him and eventually he convinced you. You transferred university to one in New York, lived in the dorms for a couple of years until Mat and you got an apartment together. You finished your undergraduate degree, then started and finished your masters. Mat had always been just as supportive of you as you of him. He made living away from your family easy. He made living easy. Date nights in all shapes and forms, luxurious vacations, and just him making you happy with all of his little quirks. Your relationship was something straight out of a movie. It was perfect. Until it wasn't.
You don't know when things began to change in your relationship, nothing really caused it, but one day you started feeling unhappy. Mat changed. Or maybe you did. But you weren't the same two people you once were. When you came home from work, you got a 'hello' and a kiss but the passion behind his eyes were gone. He barely asked you about your day anymore or told you about his. Just enough before you fell back into silence. You didn't used to mind the silence. Sitting comfortably in silence was a sign you truly felt at peace with a person, but when the silence got uncomfortable for you, you knew something was wrong. The amount of times you two went out alone decreased to the point where you could count on one hand the amount of dates you had been on in the past two months.
He just stopped making an effort and any effort you put into the relationship was rejected or gone unnoticed. Like making him dinner or doing his laundry and him not at least thanking you for it.
His love language was most definitely touch, but even that had slipped away day after day. He kissed you in the mornings, at night, and when either of you got home, but the spontaneous make out sessions or random quickies throughout the day were basically nonexistent anymore. You had sex after his games or when he got home from a roadie, but somehow that had started to feel like an effort.
You missed the old Mat that always had some part of his body touching yours. At dinner, sitting next to each other, he usually intertwined his pinky with yours, only breaking to use his knife. Or he always held your hand or had an arms wrapped around you when you were out of the house, like he was afraid to lose you. That stopped and now you were the one afraid that you had lost him.
You had just gotten too comfortable with each other. You knew each other so well you could anticipate what the other would say or feel that you didn't need to tell each other anymore. You still wanted to that, you were still interested in what he had to say, in hearing his voice, but after countless efforts being rejected, it was easier to say nothing.
The worst part was that you couldn't even blame his schedule and just wait for the season to end. It hadn't changed. You had made it work that past few years before, even with you being busy with school, so why now? You were starting to question your self worth, because what else could it be?
The last few months had been hell for you, silently and lonely suffering. Because every time you brought up the subject of your relationship, he said everything was fine and that we'd just hit a little rut that would resolve itself.
You wanted to believe him so badly. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay. You didn't want to throw the last seven years away. You had worked so hard to be here. You had experienced so much together, made so many memories. Was it really worth throwing it all away?
But you were sick of waiting for it to stop. Sick of your efforts being lost. Sick of Mat not seeming to care. You hit your breaking point.
And that's how you found yourself on the verge of tears standing in front of Mat in your kitchen in which you had made so many beautiful memories. "I just can't sit around waiting for you do something anymore. I gave you so many chances for you to do something, say something, risk something for me, but you did nothing. You're losing me, Mat, you don't even seem to care."
He blinked. A blank expression on his face. Just like the last few months. Some part of you wasn't surprised, the other ripped your heart into shreds.
"I just– I need a break."
"From what?," he finally asked, already knowing the answer.
"From us." A tiny, very tiny, weight lifted off you when you said it out loud. You had been wanted to say it for months and although you weren't happy about the situation, you were proud of yourself that you did. "I'm going back to Seattle for a few months. I just need space from you right now."
"When? For how long?" That's probably the most he'd asked about you in a while.
"I haven't booked a flight yet, but probably tomorrow." He nodded, pressing his lips together. "At least until the end of your season. Until you have some free time to figure out if you still love me or not." You lips were shaking, tears threatening to flow freely. You didn't want to say it, but a part of you felt bitter.
"(Y/n)–"
"No!," you stopped him. You couldn't hear it. "If you tell me you love me right now I'll stay. And this wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. I'm weak for you, Mat. I'd do anything for you, but I don't feel that from you. So, please, just stop. I made up my mind. This has to happen. Maybe in a few months we can work it out, but right now I need space."
He gave you another nod then turned around and left. You heard him rustling around in your bedroom and a few minutes later your front door slammed shut. He was gone. A part of you was angry at him for not putting up a fight, but then again you had asked him not to. But just once, you wanted him not to listen to you and tell and show you how he felt. You guessed you had your answer.
The next few months were rough for you. A different kind than the few months before, but still difficult. You missed Mat terribly. Countless of times you came close to booking a flight back home to New York and burying your face in his chest. But it wasn't your turn this time. He had to fight for you.
But you missed him nonetheless. You had almost called him when Anthony got traded just a couple weeks after you left, but you didn't. Then again when not shortly after he got hurt in a game against Boston. You wanted, but you didn't. Not until he did. But he never did.
It took a while, but you started to be able to breath again. You got a small job at a café, since you took a leave of absence from your big girl job in New York and still needed some money. You made some new friends, most of your old ones having moved away or gotten too out of touch with, and developed a new daily routine. You started feeling better, but the whole inside you was reserved for only Mat to fix and would probably take years to mend if he didn't make a move soon.
Weeks, then months went by and not a single word from Mat. You couldn't even see him on TV for his games (which you still watched) since he was injured and his social media was a bust too. Your friends and his teammates (also your friends) checked in every once in a while, asking how you were and telling you how miserable Mat was. But unless you saw that for yourself, you couldn't really believe it.
Then, by some miracle the Islanders made it to the playoffs and Mat was scheduled to be back to playing. You tuned in, but almost had to turn it back off when you saw his face. His beautiful face that you loved to kiss and touch and simply just look at. Now though, it was riddled with frown marks, dark under eye circles and his unshaven scruff that took you years to like. He fought more on the ice, too. He rarely took penalties for righting but during these next few games he collected them like trophies. He was short and snippy in his post game interviews, again, something usually unlike him. He was miserable, you could tell. But then why had he not made an effort to get you back? Had you pushed him too far away when you left him? Was that the wrong thing to do?
You fought with yourself day and night. You wanted to go back to him and fight for him, but then you remembered that you did. You did fight for him countless of times. In your head you used to screamed at him to do something, say something, risk something, but he never did. So stayed put, waiting for his season to end and see what he would do.
A couple weeks later, your parents were out for dinner, you were home watching a movie with a big glass of wine when the doorbell rang. You didn't feel like answering, but who rang the doorbell after six pm? Your ex boyfriend who just showed up without a warning from across the country did. Or current boyfriend?
He stood there, outside your door with his grown out hair, unshaven beard, and sad look on his face. You started at him, processing. He was here.
"Mat? What–"
"No! It's my turn to talk now! (Y/n), you left. You just fucking left me without a warning." When you opened your mouth to protest, he held up his hand silencing you. "I know, I probably should have seen it coming, but you left! That hurt like hell."
He rubbed his face with his hands, also combing through his hairs before he went on. "I don't know what happened. I swear. I felt something change, yeah, but I just got comfortable. I didn't fall out of love with you. Never. And I'm sorry. I just assumed you felt the same and I shouldn't have. I should have checked in more. I'm sorry for taking for granted what I had. You. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I totally understand if you're done with me, because no one should take you for granted. (Y/n), I love you and the way you care for people, for me. You light up any room you walk in, you make everyone smile, you're– god, you're so so beautiful."
He took a deep breath, fighting his tears. You had given up holding them back pretty much the second you opened the door. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. I've been such a jerk and I realize that and take full responsibility. These past few months have been hell for me without you there. Our apartment feels so cold without you. But it gave me some time to think about everything I fucked up and everything I will do better if you're willing to take me back. Please take me back, (y/n), I don't know how to live without you." He shook his head and tears away, collecting himself. "No, wait. I came here to apologize and give you time to decide whether you'll forgive me. The 'I want you back' speech will come later. If you'll hear it."
You were speechless. All these months, even before you left, that's what you had been hoping and begging for to hear. Why couldn't you speak? Or move?
Moments passed with the two of you just staring at each other. Mat hesitated to say more, but he couldn't read your face. Did you want to hear more or slap him in the face and tell him to leave? "Alright, uhm, I'm gonna go. Don't really know where, but I'm sure there's a hotel open around here." He got ahold of the suitcase next to him. "Uhm. I guess, text me? Or call? Whenever you're ready."
He waited a few more seconds for you to move, but when you didn't he slowly turned around and walked out of your driveway. Seeing his back turned, him walking away from you again when he had just come back made you snap out of it. "Maty!"
You sobbed running up to him and into his arms that had opened for you the second you yelled his name. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent while you clung to him. He held onto you just as desperately. His hand I'm your hair at the back of your head, the other around your waist holding you tight to his body. You felt like home again after months and months of searching for it. You heart expanded and pounded swiftly for him and him alone.
"Fuck, baby, I missed you so much." He had let you down, but now both of his hands held your cheeks as he looked at you. He dropped his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry."
You weren't ready to forgive him just yet, but you were so ready for him to kiss you. "Kiss me." And boy, did he. His mouth attacked yours with that intoxicating passion you had missed so much. Your tongues danced their dance without a hitch as he claimed you as his again.
You must have stood out there for minutes before breaking apart and coming up for air. You pulled him into the house, you had given your neighbors enough of a show. You settled on the couch, but put a pillow in between the two of you so you could talk things out before you did something you'd regret. That didn't stop him though from reaching his hand out to you. First, he took your hand then let it wander up to your face. "Come back home with me," he whispered. His sad green eyes were begging, too, a look that was very hard to resist.
"I want to," you whispered back, your voice starting to shake with emotion again. "But I can't just go back like nothing happened. Mat, those few months were extremely painful for me, I can't just ignore that. I'm so happy you realized it now, but I need to see some action. Your words, as happy as I am to hear them, aren't going to fix it alone."
He nodded, then dropped his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I'll fix this. I promise."
"We'll fix this. I don't want to throw us away, I want to work on this, but we need to do it slowly."
He nodded again and brushed his lips against your nose. "I have to go back to New York tomorrow. I have a few meetings and exit interviews and stuff, but after that I can come back here or you come back and I'll live with Wally or something for a while so we can work on this."
You nodded and threw the pillow separating you to the floor. You'll hash out the details later, but right now you just needed his big, warm hug. You sat like this for hours, not saying much, just enjoying each others company after you had been away from each other for so long.
The next day, he really did leave to go back to New York but he came back just a few days later. He stayed at a hotel, which did feel weird, but it was for the best. You needed to trust him again and doing it slowly would result in the best outcome. You spent a few hours together every day, catching up and talking about your plans to rebuild your relationship. At the end of the day, he'd bring you home and kiss you for a few minutes, then leave. Every time you wanted to run after him and go with him, but you could already feel the hole in your heart fixing itself, so you didn't and just trusted the process.
The day you told him you were ready to come back to New York was one you'd never forget. He spun you around in the middle of the park you had decided to have lunch at and kissed you like nobody was watching. It felt good, like the beginning again.
You celebrated his birthday a few days later and the day after he left to go visit his family in Vancouver for a few days while you tied up some loose ends here in Seattle. You'd meet back in New York in your apartment.
After an exhausting cross country flight, you were surprised Mat had sent an Uber to pick you from the airport instead of picking you up himself. But when you finally walked through your apartment door and the lights were off except for a few lamps and candles that you had carefully collected over the last few years, you knew why.
Mat, dressed nicely, stood in the middle of your living room surrounded by flowers and lit candles. Little Polaroids and pictures of the two of you were laying across the floor and furniture as well. You approached him slowly, taking his outstretched hand until you stood directly in front of him. His other hand slid into his pants pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box.
"I promise I'm not doing this out of desperation to get you back. I've had this ring since last year. I've been thinking about doing this for a long time. I've just been waiting for the right moment. I didn't want to propose during the season because I wanted to celebrate and do it right. And I had planned on taking you to Africa or the Maldives or somewhere more fun than our apartment but, you know... And I can't wait any longer." He smiled, then chuckled. "But, I'll still take you wherever you want to go."
"Maldives sound good." Why that was the only thing you were answering to you weren't sure, but with a chuckle he kept going.
"Good. And that probably also means you're not going to say no to my next question, but I'll ask anyway." He lowered down in front you onto one knee with his hand still holding onto your left. "(Y/n), for the past seven years, there is not one second that I haven't loved you. I know I haven't always shown that, but I promise you that won't happen again. You are the most important thing in the world to me and I promise there won't be another day where you will question that ever again. There's no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's you, babe, it's always been you. Will you marry me?"
You dropped down to your knees and grabbed his face to kiss him. "Yes," you repeated over and over again between kisses that tasted salty due to the tears running down your face. He got emotional, too, when he finally slid the ring on your finger. It was exactly the one you wanted and had dreamed of getting your entire life. It was perfect and so was he.
And he did keep his promise. Now and every single day there after.
*******
a few years later
"... the end."
"Again!"
"No, it's bed time now, honey."
"No! No sleep! One more book." Your three year old son jumped from your lap and dove towards the bookshelf to pick out another book to read. You checked your phone to see if your husband would be home any minute and in fact he would be, so you agreed to one more book.
"There you guys are." The door opened and Mat walked in with a big smile on his face.
"Daddy!" Your son, again, jumped from your lap into his fathers arms.
"Hi, buddy. I missed you." They hugged dramatically while your son told him all about his morning. Mat eventually put him down and took the couple steps need to get to you.
"Hi, princess. I missed you, too." He picked up your almost one year old daughter, who was also sitting in your lap, and hugged and kissed just as dramatically as he did with your son. Her sleepy eyes lit up with excitement and she filled the room with adorable baby giggles.
"What about me?," you pouted as you stood up.
"You have no idea." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and his lips gently touched yours, but with two children demanding your attention, the kiss was kept short.
You all hung out in the room for a bit, catching up on what Mat had missed while he was away for the last few days on his hockey road trip. Then you put your kids to bed, although putting an exited toddler to bed was no easy task, but eventually he did fall asleep.
"Hi," Mat whispered after you finally closed your sons bedroom door. You turned to face him and his messy hair made you smile. He aged like fine wine and you were thankful every day that he was yours.
"Hey." His hands took ahold of you and slowly pushed you against the hallway wall.
"I missed you," he whispered against your lips before claiming them. His hands roamed your body to find all the places to squeeze and touch while shoving his tongue in your mouth for an amazing kiss. How he went from fun goofy dad to horny teenage in a matter of seconds, you didn't understand, but you also didn't mind.
"Mat, not now. It's the middle of the afternoon," you said between kisses when you could tell this was going to be more than just a make out session.
"So?" He sucked on and kissed your neck. Yeah, what was the problem?
"So? They're both asleep. Hurry up and take me to bed." He didn't need to be told twice and a second later you were up in his arms and enjoying some much needed adult time.
#mat barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal fic#nhl fics#nhl imagine#mathew barzal#new york islanders#hockey fics#taylor swift#fics based on songs
647 notes
·
View notes
Text
easy | one shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: "But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first. "He does?" Adam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on. "Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued. "They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.
Everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that neither you nor Eddie were informed in advance of the fact that you were a couple.
It promised to be a very interesting week. angst/fluff and almost smut (making out in the bathroom), friends to lovers
In this AU Joyce didn't move to California, but Argyle is there in Hawkins because he is too cool to erase him just like that.
TW: mention of injuries, blood, murder, drugs
the one shot is also avaliable on ao3
9 591 words
When I first got the idea, I thought it would be a very short and pleasant story. As standard, it turned out quite differently!
I know I said this fanfic wouldn't be related to any song, but as I was writing I was listening to one of my favorite songs about love Safari by Piotr Zioła on loop and couldn't resist adding elements of it in there.
eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist
"Here are my favorites!" Wayne said entering Eddie's room with a big cardboard box.
"Please let me tell Dustin that you called us that, this little shit will lose his mind." Robin grinned.
"He knows it. This is my uncle and sometimes he loves you guys more than he loves me." Eddie replied with a mouth full of pizza.
You were sitting in the Munsons' new apartment. After the huge compensation Eddie got from the government, they decided to give up on the trailer park and find a place where power failure and lack of hot water would not be on the agenda. You, of course, helped them with the moving out. Unfortunately, Eddie's condition was not the best so with the carrying furniture and cardboard boxes Steve, Jonathan, Argyle and Hopper helped Wayne. You, Robin, Nancy and Joyce took care of painting the rooms, but now it was time to eat to strengthen yourselves before continuing. You sat in a circle on the floor, since you hadn't yet had time to assemble the table. Suddenly there was the sound of a telephone in the apartment. Wayne went to answer it and returned after about 10 minutes with a worried expression on his face.
"If it weren't for the fact that the police chief is now sitting across from me I'd think I'd messed something up again." the younger Munson joked, to which Jim just rolled his eyes.
"We'll have visitors next week." sighed the old man.
"Who?"
"Remember aunt Theresa and her son Adam?"
"Jesus, no!" his reaction spoke for itself.
"They want to come for a week."
"So at the moment when we live in a trailer and can barely afford anything they don't want to know us, but when we suddenly get a lot of money and a new apartment they feel like suddenly renewing family ties?" he asked with disgust in his voice.
"It's only a week Son, you'll survive."
"Nope. I won't survive. Hopper you don't have a free cell for a week? I'll be much better off there than in their company."
"Don't be dramatic, kid." he replied.
"Joyce! Have mercy on the victim, store me for this time in your basement, you won't even notice I'm there," he whined. "I just got you out of the hospital, the doctor said that I am categorically forbidden to do any extreme activities!"
"How can a family visit be extreme?" Steve asked.
"When you meet them you'll understand."
You finished eating and everyone went back to their duties, but you went to help Eddie with changing the bandages. From the very beginning you were the only person he allowed in, because you handled him most delicately of all. You knew that Wayne was trying his best, however, Eddie always dramatically confirmed that everyone else wanted him to die in pain.
He sat on the edge of the tub as you cleaned each wound in turn. He hissed in pain from time to time, each time you heard it you sent him a slight smile whispering that it would be over soon and everything will be fine. When each wound was thoroughly cleaned you moved on to applying the ointment.
"Why do you dislike your family so much?" you asked while rubbing the ointment into his cheek.
"They have always considered themselves the best of the family, just because they have money. They love to brag about it, if they could they would wear badges that say 'we're fabulously rich, sucker,'" he said rolling his eyes.
"That doesn't sound too good." You sighed.
"I'll be hearing all week about how worthless I am. Too stupid to graduate from high school on the first try, too controversial looking to get a good job... The list goes on, if I were to list everything we'd have to sit here until night."
"Hey, look at me." you said grabbing his chin and turning him so that he was looking straight into your eyes. "You're not worthless. You saved the world, Eddie. You saved us all. The only worthless thing that exists is your hopeless aunt's words, do you understand?"
"You saved me, too. More than once." he whispered surprised with your words.
"I would have done it a second time without hesitation."
When you found yourselves in the Upside Down after passing through the gate at Lover's Lake the Demobats took you as their target. Without a second thought, Eddie rushed to your rescue when one of them wrapped its tail around your neck. Later, while Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Robin dealt with Vecna together the two of you and Dustin were supposed to distract the monsters. Unfortunately, Eddie had no intention of listening to Steve and feeling a surge of courage he cut the line when you and Dustin returned to the trailer on the good side. That didn't stop you from jumping after him. You don't know if it was the adrenaline or the despair that overwhelmed you when you saw him that made you and the others able to get him back out the other side. The option of getting out of hell without Eddie simply didn't exist for you.
"I just... I don't want Wayne to be ashamed of me. I don't want him to listen to all the crap they say about me because I know he cares. He tries not to show it but I can see it. And that's the worst part of it all."
"Wayne loves you. And I know he would do anything for you. It's normal that when someone talks nonsense about people we love it upsets us. Remember when you had to pull me forcibly away from Craver who was bullying Will? I thought I was going to tear him apart then. I probably would have if it hadn't been for you."
"To be honest, you were terrifying, I was scared as hell," he laughed.
"If necessary I'm ready to defend you from your crazy family too. I just need to grow my nails so I can claw out their eyes better." you answered. When you saw the smile light up his face as well, you felt your heart skipped a beat. You meant it in all honesty. You would do anything for the people you love. He didn't need to know that you loved him in a little different way than the rest.
When the ultimate day arrived Eddie was sitting in his room with Dustin and Will working on the details of the next D&D campaign. This was to be Will's first time as Dungeon Master for the whole group so Eddie, as always, eagerly offered to help. They were fiercely discussing the final boss fight when the door to his room swung open gently and Wayne showed up in it.
"Hi Uncle Wayne." Dustin and Will said simultaneously.
"Hi boys. Eddie? Our guests have arrived." As soon as the last word left his mouth the door swung open wider allowing his aunt inside. There was a look of displeasure on Wayne's face at the fact that she had walked in there as if it were her own room, but he didn't comment. Immediately after her, her son Adam walked in.
"Hello, Edward!" she said in an overly high tone, looking around the room with a judgmental gaze. "Why don't you give an old aunt a hug as a greeting?"
"I'd love to, but unfortunately the doctor has forbidden me to have close contact with other people." Eddie replied in a flat tone causing the younger boys to snort quietly with laughter.
"Hm... I see you still haven't grown up. Adam threw away all his toys the moment he started high school."
"These are not some toys, they are needed for our campaign." He sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Are you still playing that satanic game?" interjected Adam.
"It's not- Yeah, you know what? Yes, I play the satanic game all the time. Actually, I'm the leader of the cult now, and these are its scary members Dustin and Will. Before you say anything, yes, I am bringing the Hawkins youth to the dark side of power to worship Satan with me." Their visit had so far lasted only five minutes and they had already made Eddie think about how much more fun it was to be ripped to shreds by demobats.
"Alright." Wayne interrupted his dramatic speech before things got too far. "Why don't I show you the rest of the house and the neighborhood?" Without a word they left closing the door behind them.
"Dude, they're awful." commented Dustin.
"Are you still playing this satanic game?" Will began to mock Adam.
"This is going to be the worst week of my life." The metalhead rubbed his face with his hands.
For the next few hours, Eddie didn't leave his room for a step, knowing that the enemy was sitting right behind the wall. He tried to focus on Will's campaign but anxiety and nerves didn't help him one bit. When the doorbell rang around the apartment all three of them left the room knowing it was Hopper. However, they didn't expect it was Aunt Theresa opening the door for him.
"Good evening officer!" she said. "My name is Theresa Munson, is something wrong?" A confused Hopper sent Eddie a questioning look, to which only the latter rolled his eyes.
"Nothing happened, I-"
"Did Eddie get into trouble again? I know he's been in trouble with the law several times before," she sighed. "Edward I'm sure what you did was not intentional right?" She didn't let him get a word in edgewise.
"What the fu-" Eddie didn't have time to finish when Wayne came out of the bathroom.
"Jim! How are you?" he said shaking Hopper's hand.
"Good." he replied still somewhat surprised. "I came to pick up the boys."
"Oh, so you're not here after because of Edward? What a relief!" his aunt interjected.
"Unbelievable!" Eddie exclaimed, banging his head against the wall.
"I'm just worried that you'll follow in your father's footsteps! Look at you, tattoos? torn clothes and that satanic music you listen to? That doesn't bode well, does it, officer? If you don't change something about yourself you'll never find any girlfriend or a good job."
It was a punch below the belt. Mentioning his father was crossing the line. Seeing Eddie clench his fists and the knuckles on his hands turn white Will and Dustin sent each other a communicative look.
"But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first.
"He does?" Adam asked crossing his arms over his chest.
"I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on.
"Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued.
"They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.
"Come on boys, we have to go." Hopper said, interrupting this bizarre exchange of words. "Your mother will kill me if we don't get back before dinner."
With that, the two teenagers left them all in shock, including Eddie. After they left, he quickly locked himself in his room thinking about the situation. Apparently you are a couple now. How should he behave around you now? He didn't know what to do with all this. These two little bastards had just put him in a game of pretend relationship with the girl he wrote all his love songs about. On the one hand, it was a great opportunity for him to finally make a move on you. On the other, he was paralyzed by the fear that nothing but rejection awaited him.
"You can pick the place." Hopper said as soon as they got into the car.
"What place?" asked a puzzled Will.
"Where I can bury your bodies when y/n finds out what you've done."
"Oh come on! Everyone knows very well that she has a crush on him!" Dustin exclaimed.
"They're both only have eyes for themselves, we're just helping them finally do something about it." Will tried to defend them. "Just helping!"
"Even if it's true what you're saying, they should come to it by themselves, not by your wild ideas," he sighed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm not going to get involved."
And Jim was right. As soon as you found out what they had done you were furious, yelling at them that they had no right to decide for the two of you and put you in such a strange situation. However, it was too late. Locked in your room, you nervously played with your fingers while looking at the phone standing on the bedside table, not knowing whether you should dial the number to the Munson's house and explain the situation. Apologize for the behavior of these little shits and hope that your relationship will not worsen because of it. Plunged into your thoughts, you didn't even hear the knock at your door. After a moment of unresponsiveness on your part, Jonathan and El entered the room.
"Will told us what happened." began Jonathan slowly, sitting down next to you. El wordlessly followed him. "You know very well that they didn't mean a bad thing," he said.
"You can come in too." You sighed still looking at the door. After a moment, your younger brother emerged from behind the wall and, not knowing what to expect, walked slowly into the room.
"I know that a simple apology is not enough!" he began to defend himself. "But this aunt is really awful person! She started comparing him to his father, she thought Hopper had come to arrest him, or God knows what! She said he would never find a girlfriend, so we wanted to help him a-and then this idea came to our minds! At firs it didn't seem so bad. We thought...I am really sorry y/n."
"It's okay." you said quietly and you extended your hand towards him. "I forgive you." He ignored you hand and hugged you tightly with a relief.
"Eddie didn't protest, I think he liked the idea." he said quietly and you smiled.
Despite the fact, that thinking that Eddie liked the idea of being your pretended boyfrend for a week made you feel very warm you weren't able to stop thinking about what Will have just told you about his aunt's behaviour. She compared him to his father? Your blood boiled inside you. No one had the right to say such a thing, and you set as your goal to make sure it wouldn't happen again. At least not on your watch.
All Tuesday from the very morning you could not sit still. Lessons went on mercilessly, still thinking about the situation into which you were embroiled. When you told Robin about it at lunch she looked quite excited saying that finally something would happen between you two. She was the only one who knew how you truly felt about him and from the very beginning, she was trying to persuade you to finally do something more than rambling to her about your feelings. In her opinion, Eddie should be the person to actually listen to it. The longer you thought about it the more you had to admit that the excitement was getting to you as well. Yet you still didn't know what Eddie thought about it.
When the final bell rang, you quickly ran out of the school, got on your bike and headed toward Munson's apartment, stopping by a bakery on the way. Once there, you took three deep breaths and knocked on the door, which Wayne opened a moment later.
"And who do we have here?" He asked with a smile.
"Hi Uncle Wayne." You said answering with the same. "Is Eddie home?"
"I don't know where else he could be, come in." He let you in. "This is my sister Theresa and her son Adam. And this is y/n," he said as you walked deeper into the apartment. They were both sitting on the living room couch watching TV.
"It's very nice to meet you!" you said in an over-sweetened tone.
"We are also pleased to meet you." Replied a somewhat puzzled aunt.
"Did I hear my favorite Bayers?" Eddie leaned out of the room with a broad smile. Seeing his reaction you took it as permission to take it a step further.
"It's good to know that my little brother hasn't stolen that title yet." you laughed walking up to him. "Hi, Teddy." You kissed him on his healthy cheek. Not expecting it, he fossilized for a few seconds but after a moment he woke up.
"Hi baby." he said, smacking you on the forehead. "I see you've already met my wonderful family?" he added with a hint of sacrasm.
"Yes, Wayne introduced me." you confirmed. "Did you change the bandages today?" you asked wanting to change the topic.
"Not yet." he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"So here's the plan: First we'll change your bandages, then we'll take care of the school notes I brought you." you announced "Ah! I almost forgot! I was also at the bakery on the way, and I brought your favorite doughnuts."
"I told you she was the best." he said proudly looking his aunt straight in the eyes. Wayne watched you from afar with a smile on his lips. Pretend or not - it was nice to see you in such a position.
When you disappeared behind the bathroom door, free from the prying eyes of his guests, you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you..." he said quietly. "For playing along."
"Will told me about what you heard from her. I thought instead of clawing her eyes out right away we'd show her how wrong she is. If you don't mind, of course."
"Of course I don't. I was afraid it would be you who would mind. Those little shitheads hadn't decided anything about it with me before."
"So since neither of us has anything against it..." you said. "You told them I was the best?"
"Of course, and it wasn't even a lie!"
It took you more than two hours to come to grips with the notes. If Eddie had dispensed with his dramatic episodes the time would have been about half as short, but you were in no hurry. Sitting behind the closed door of his room nothing changed too much, your relationship from the very beginning was very good and full of laughter that reached the eavesdropper Theresa and her son. After finishing his study, Eddie played you some new songs he had written in his spare time. Three of them were related to each other telling the adventure of fighting the worst kind of evil, which was full of throwing fireballs, manipulating thoughts and knife-sharp fangs tearing skin. The fourth had no words yet. That, at least, was the version for you. The piece of paper with its words was tucked deep in the closet along with the rest he had written thinking of you. So that it would never see the light of day.
As dinner time approached Wayne called you into the living room where you helped set the table and get a few things ready. Eddie accompanied you, watching as you casually moved around the space talking and joking with his uncle. Feeling a pleasant warmth on his heart, he thought if it could stay like this forever. The way you jokingly patted his hand when he tried to snack, or when you pretended to be a princess in distress unable to open a jar, so he as a brave knight would come to your rescue. Such behavior was not something new for you, but this time as a wonderful addition, from time to time he could steal a little kiss from you on the cheek, forehead or tip of the nose, or without hesitation hug you from behind when you were standing at the counter cutting vegetables for a salad. You then leaned gently against his frame, creating an enclosure of safety around you. You both tried desperately to remember the feeling you had then if it was about to disappear as quickly as a soap bubble.
"So how did you two meet?" Theresa asked as you all sat down at the table.
"Eddie was friends with my twin brother, Jonathan, so it was only a matter of time before we met." you replied while putting food on your plate and then doing the same only with Eddie's portion. "I must admit that from the very beginning he had something about him that caught my attention." You continued.
"Interesting." she hummed. "Edward, how's the situation at school?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you going to finally get out of high school? You know you won't be young forever." she paused briefly. "Adam is studying in New York. He's one of the best, he's getting a scholarship."
"That's great." you commented, not wanting to drag the subject further.
"And what are your plans after graduation?" Adam turned to Eddie with a contemptous look.
"I don't know, at this point I'm just trying to get better." He shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off the food.
"Eddie is great with cars!" you blurted out. "Before the accident he used to work for a local mechanic, he really appreciated him." You placed your hand on his, which was lying on the table. When you squeezed it gently he looked at you and sent a slight smile showing a dimple in his cheek.
"Well, yes, but without education you can't find a good job," he said.
"I believe that if someone is good at their craft they don't need any high degree at all to succeed. And Eddie is the best, and I'm sure that as soon as he finishes high school this year he will be very successful." Your voice was still kind however this time a hint of firmness could be sensed in it.
The rest of dinner passed in silence. When you had finished eating you helped to clear the table and wash the dishes. Then it was time to go home.
"My mother and Jim are hosting an engagement party this Friday. She said to tell you that you and Adam can also feel invited. It's going to be great fun, right Eddie?" you said already standing at the door.
"Of course sweetheart." he replied with a fake smile hating the idea of them being there with all his heart.
For the last time that day you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Although it was gentle Eddie felt as if your lips were leaving a permanent mark there, which imprinted all the way on his heart.
The rest of the week looked similar. Except for the day of Hellfire, you came to him after school bringing notes and spending the rest of the day together. You could get used to such a course of events, unfortunately, when Friday came you felt nostalgic about the fact that this could be the last of the days like this. Theresa and Adam were going home Sunday morning which meant that these were also the last days to enjoy Eddie's closeness. Feeling a weight in your chest, you got off the bike and headed toward the apartment. You didn't expect Adam to open the door for you. He was shirtless. You immediately felt extremely uncomfortable and wanted to turn back but he stopped you.
"Wayne and Eddie went to get some groceries, you can wait for them inside." he said smiling broadly.
"Thanks." you muttered and squeezed past him in the doorway.
"I just finished doing my home workout. You know, we have a gym at the university, so I go there every day, I can't stop." He winked at you coming closer. Responding nothing with a quick step you walked to the living room and began to unpack the contents of your bag. In addition to your notes after school, you entered the store and bought the new figures for D&D that Will kept talking about that they would need for the new campaign. You carried the notes to Eddie's room, then sat down on the couch in the living room and began spreading out the figures and paints on the coffee table. Adam never took his eyes off you, watching your every move making you feel increasingly nervous.
"Do you play this stupid game too?" he asked, sitting down next to you.
"I participate in campaigns from time to time." You replied shrugging your shoulders. Not wanting to lean on the couch as his arm was stretched across the backrest, you aimlessly moved things from one place to another, making you not notice how close he was to you. It reached you when you felt his hand on your cheek. Surprised, you looked in his direction and immediately jumped away standing up on your feet.
"What the hell are you doing?" you shouted.
"Oh come on, don't you wanna mess around? It will be a while before they come back from the store." he said getting up from the couch.
"Jesus, no! Have you lost your mind? What made you even think that I might want something like that?"
Adam was wrong. Eddie and Wayne returned from shopping, but you were so preoccupied with the situation, and your voice was so loud that you didn't hear the door open. Eddie, seeing you with his half-naked cousin in the living room, felt his heart suddenly get very heavy. He was just turning to leave the apartment and not look at it when Wayne grabbed him by the arm and with a hand gesture showed him to be quiet and watch what would happen next.
"So you're saying all this talk about having a crush on him when he was just your brother's friend is true? You fell in love with a trailer trash who worships Satan? The scars are turning you on?" he smirked. "A better Munson is now standing in front of you, baby, don't waste this opportunity."
"Don't you fucking dare to say one more word!" He crossed the line. It wasn't even about how he behaved toward you. You were too concerned about what he called Eddie. "I tolerated your and your mother's snarky behavior just so I wouldn't make Wayne uncomfortable. But since he's not here now I'm happy to answer your questions. Even homeless Eddie would be much better than you. You don't measure up to him you damn asshole! I don't care about your expensive car you are so enthusiastic about, I'd rather walk everywhere my whole life than get in it. I don't give a shit about your apartment in New York. I would have had a better life homeless under a bridge. And yes, I loved Eddie when he lived in the trailer, I loved that he made me feel at home there, trailer or not I fucking love him so you have to remember that the next time you talk shit about the person I love nothing will hold me back anymore. I will make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life. I'm disgusted with you. I'm disgusted by how self-absorbed idiot you are and how your ego blows the scale. And you are right. You're damn right that these wounds are incredibly attractive. Do you know why? Because they remind me that my Eddie is a fucking hero! You don't even realize how many lives he saved back then! So yes, he and his scars are the hottest in the world and definitely much more hotter than your pathetic gym routine." The words flew out of your mouth like bullets. The shock on his face encouraged you even more but then you heard the door slam.
"Adam?" the voice of Wayne made you tighten your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath.
"Y/n! Good to see you!" he said bringing in the shopping bags.
"Hi Wayne." you said getting the nicest and the calmest tone you could afford at that moment.
"Sweetheart!" before you had time to respond Eddie with a quick step and a wide smile on his lips was already at your side. What you didn't expect, however, was what came next. He cupped your face and kissed you. Eddie was kissing you. You experienced a three-second shock and then completely surrendered to the kiss by placing your hands on his chest. His nose gently touched your cheek, you felt its tip was cold. Yet his lips were burning. Even though the kiss was brief, you felt as if your soul had left your body and had travelled to a completely different dimension. Was it a dream? If so, you didn't want to wake up.
After Eddie heard what you were saying, he felt he had to do it. Many times he saw you defending your loved ones from all kinds of attacks. You weren't afraid to cover Will with your own body when Vecna tried to get him, so verbal attacks were not a problem for you. You also handled this one very well. More than once he had the opportunity to witness this. Now you were doing it for him. This awakened completely new feelings in him. He was sincerely touched and happy. In that moment you gave him something he had not felt since Wayne took him in. He felt wanted and loved. Even if it was pretended at that moment. Nothing could take that moment away from him, so he decided to take a risk. The risk definitely paid off. He enjoyed every second of it. The satisfaction was also a bonus. He wanted to show "the better Munson" that you were his. As if what you said wasn't enough. He wanted the kiss to be a seal saying she is perfect, and she is mine. Damn, he wanted you to be his so bad.
As if nothing ever happened, you sat down on the couch with Eddie and took up painting. You didn't say a word about your exchange with Adam, and Eddie pretended he hadn't witnessed one of the best moments in his life. Painting took you a lot longer than you expected. Plus more because every now and then you glanced in his direction focusing your attention on his mouth as he told you more details of the campaign. Could you have become addicted to something you had only tasted once?
"They are being chased by a pack of wild mutant lions so they run into an old hut where the master of nightmares is waiting for them." He tells you while gesturing with his hands. You're interested in what he's saying, but damn did his lips always look this beautiful? "Earth to y/n!" he yelled clapping his hands.
"Shit, sorry, I zooned out." you woke up suddenly. "So what exactly is it about the master of nightmares?"
"He throws you into a vision that replicates your greatest fears," he said.
"And what is Eddie the Banished's greatest fear?"
Losing you. That was his first thought. "Y'know it will probably be bats." he cuckled and winked at you.
"I am so sorry Eddie, I didn't mean-"
"It's fine, clam down." he said, yawning.
"You're tired, I should go."
"No, stay." he grabbed your hand. "I mean... if you want to of course, I thought you'd wait until they're dry to take some home for Will."
"Oh, sure." a smile crept onto your lips on its own as you accepted the proposition. Lips. You had a feeling you never thought about that particular body part as often as you did today.
"We can chill a little in my room." he suggested. You knew perfectly well what he meant.
"You know very well that I won't agree to this kind of chilling." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Those strange doctors have made it very clear that until the traces of the Upside Down are out of your system for good, there is no question of smoking anything."
"But- please! Have mercy on my poor soul." fell to his knees in front of you making you giggle.
"Don't you dare use those puppy dog eyes on me Munson. It's for your own good." you said softly and tenderly stroked his cheek with your thumb.
"You heartless woman." he faltered, laying his head on your lap.
"Okay, I am able to bear the weight of those words." you chuckled. "There are many other ways to relax, you know? We can listen to music, or read."
"Will you read to me?" he asked raising his face toward you. Big chocolate button eyes glared at you. His face looked so innocent. Rarely did anyone get a chance to see it, since Eddie almost always wore his mask. The fact that he didn't have it with you made you feel very special.
"Come on, adventure awaits!" you helped him stand up and walked to his room. After a moment of deliberation and dithering about whether you should read The Hobbit for the millionth time, you decided that this time it would be some new fantasy book that Wayne had bought Eddie while he was still in the hospital.
"Wayne won't mind that I'm staying this long?"
"Of course not. Besides, we still have some time before they come back."
"We have plenty of time before a pack of wild lions reaches us?"
"And before one of your worst dreams hunts you down" He replied and patted the bed indicating for you to lie down next to him. With that, you began to read, but after a short time you both began to get sleepy. The dim light of the bedside lamp, the warmth that eminated from the two of you, the comfort and peace that you felt in each other's company succulently lulled you to sleep. When you heard a quiet snoring in mid-sentence you looked at its source with tenderness in your eyes. Feeling your own eyelids getting incredibly heavy you put the book aside. Just five minutes. You thought and, moving closer to the boy, allowed yourself a small nap.
It was not as small as you thought.
"Yes, Joyce, you have nothing to worry about." Wayne said. "They were already asleep when we got home, I don't want to wake them up. Yes, I'm sure. They will manage, they are adults. Yes, it won't be a problem for sure. Okay, bye. See you tomorrow." Eddie lazily opened his eyes and rubbed them with one hand. He listened to his uncle's words looking on in disbelief that you were still here. And much closer than before he fell asleep. He brushed your hair away from your face as gently as he could so as not to wake you up.
"Hey, kid." Wayne whispered. "I talked to Joyce, she can stay."
"Thanks, Wayne."
The man smiled and winked at him, closing the door behind him. Eddie took the blanket that lay at the other end of the bed and covered you. In your sleep you turned your back to him and he took the opportunity to embrace you becoming a big spoon. Feeling you move even closer and snuggle into him he thought his heart was about to explode. Your back touched his abdomen causing a slight pain in the areas of the still healing wounds, but this pain was bearable. Besides, it was nothing compared to the happiness he felt.
As the first rays of sunlight broke through the cracks in his blinds and his watch indicated the unmercifully early hour Eddie sighed unhappily. He had never been one of the early birds, and there was no promise of change in that regard. When he opened his eyes he remembered why he was actually sleeping in his clothes. You must have turned in the night because now your face was facing his. You kept one hand under the pillow and the other lay on his side. He wanted to close the gap between you and wake you up with a kiss like in one of the cheap rom-coms, but he didn't know if he could let himself do that. Kissing you in front of his cousin was justified, since you were going to pretend to be a couple, you had to be convincing, but wouldn't doing it when it was just the two of you be too much? He was weighing all the pros and cons when he noticed your eyes slowly open.
"Good morning Eddie." you said stretching.
"Good morning, panda." he replied in a whisper. You looked at him questioningly, and with his thumb he lightly rubbed the black mascara marks under your eyes that must have formed there overnight.
"Oh, shit." you said while covering your face. "'m sorry." you muttered and sat down on the bed.
"Don't be, you look cute." So cute I want to kiss you again and again and... again. His brain didn't let go recalling these visions every now and then. Instead, he simply told you that if you wanted to dress up you could borrow something from his closet. Since your top was a bit sweaty after the sleep, you agreed by taking one of the Hellfire shirts and went to quickly get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom. Then you waited for Eddie to shower and get dressed and helped him with his bandages as you always do. You had seen him shirtless countless times, but now that he was sitting in front of you on the bathtub in only loose sweatpants you were overcome by a feeling that you only allowed yourself in the privacy of your room by fantasizing about your friend. You were afraid of the fact that these fantasies were now at your fingertips, and before you could stop yourself your hand actually moved toward him. Eddie, as if in a trance, equally enchanted by the moment, watched your every move. Your fingers gently traced a path on his body. Starting with a healthy cheek, continuing on his neck, shoulder and then chest.
"Do you like what you see, sweetheart?" he said, unable to catch his breath.
"Very," you whispered biting your lower lip.
"I like what I see, too." He confirmed by pushing your hair off your shoulder. He imitated your movements. Starting by gently brushing your face, neck and arm which was slightly exposed by the fact that his shirt was too big on you. Your breathing became faster and faster as you rested your forehead against his. His hands quickly found their way to your waist pulling you as close to him as he could. And then you kissed him. No matter how close you stood to each other until your lips were joined the gap was too huge. Initially shy and tentative sparks ignited a fire. The desire that had been bubbling inside you for a long time exploded. Still kissing you, he got up from the tub pushing you toward the wall so that you were trapped between it and him. Trapped? You were not going to escape even if you were to burn in this fire. As he laid wet marks on your neck you sank your hand into his curls. The temperature was hotter than hell when you felt his hands go under the shirt you were wearing. His lips returned to yours as he pressed his body against yours and you felt how hard he was. You thought you were going crazy.
"Eddie..." You didn't control the moan that spontaneously left your mouth.
"Yes, Angel?" he asked pulling away from you. His eyes were darker than usual but on his lips was the same smile as always. The same dimple-showing smile that made your knees weaken.
"Please." That was all you could get out of yourself before you put your hands on his neck pulling him close. This time he was the one who moaned right into your mouth and started to roll up your shirt to take it off. And then a fire truck arrived. A huge bucket of icy water to extinguish the big fire between you. A big downpour called Theresa.
"Hello? I think you've already finished changing the bandages! Some people need to use the restroom!" she shouted, knocking quickly and hard on the door. Of course she was eavesdropping. Of course she was doing her best to squeeze in where she wasn't needed. Eddie moved away from you and unlocked the bathroom door. Visibly angry, he passed his aunt without a word and went to his room to get dressed. He was definitely uncomfortable with the fact that they could see his wounds. When he returned, he noticed you in the hallway putting your shoes on. Seeing his sad expression you smiled slightly.
"I have to go help my mom get everything ready for tonight's party." You explained grabbing his hand. "But don't miss too much, we'll see each other in a few hours, right?"
"Yeah." one corner of his mouth lifted
"See you later." In farewell you kissed him on the cheek and left the apartment. Leaving him alone with thoughts of what the hell just happened.
When you got home, you didn't have much of a chance or time to think about the morning's events. You and the rest of the household threw yourselves into the whirlwind of preparations. You sat with Mom and El in the kitchen while Jonathan and Will helped prepare the garden, carrying chairs and tables there. After some time, Steve and Eddie also came to help. Because of his condition, Eddie stayed close to you in the kitchen and Steve went to help set things up in the garden. There was a kind of tension between you and the metalhead, but it wasn't bad. All the time you were sending each other glances and smiles. When you handed him vegetables to cut, his fingers brushed yours. The tiny gestures created a kind of attraction between you, which was terribly hard to resist. Despite everything, you did not bring up the subject of what happened just a few hours ago in the bathroom.
The party was going on at its best, Hopper and Wayne were sipping beers while keeping an eye on the meat on the grill, and right next to them at the table sat Joyce, the Sinclairs, Mrs. Henderson, Jonathan, Will, Eddie, and Theresa with Adam, who today was being extraordinarily, suspiciously nice to Eddie. Shouts and laughter came from the other end of the garden. Together with Dustin, El, Robin, Argyle and Steve you were playing fresbee, while Lucas and Max cheered you on from the sidelines. The disc flew out of your hands almost every time though you didn't give up. Seeing your persistence Eddie couldn't hold back a smile.
"Eddie!" shouted Will. "Are you even listening to me?" he rolled his eyes.
"Of course! You were talking about the new campaign."
"Yeah! What exactly?" Silence and the Dungeon Master's reddened face was the only answer he got.
"Will give him a break, you can see that something else is on his mind." interjected Jonathan. "Or rather, someone?"
"Is that someone our sister?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." he muttered while covering his face with his hair.
"So, Theresa! How is life in New York for you, life in the city must be very interesting!" the voice of Joyce caught the attention of all three so they turned their heads towards the aunt.
"Oh, it is! It's also very hard. It's hard to maintain the role of the Munsons, who have not followed in the family footsteps." she laughed artfully. "Fortunately, we're doing great with Adam."
Eddie's leg began bouncing under the table at an incredibly fast pace.
"What does that mean?" Joyce asked a visibly confused.
"Our family doesn't have a very good reputation, as you well know. Not many of us are able to get out of a miserable life in a penny trailer or avoid owning a police cartorette." She sent Eddie a quick glance, through which he knew he was about to receive the final blow. As his aunt continued, his leg began to move even faster, which did not escape the Byers brothers' attention. They both sent each other somewhat frightened glances but did nothing, waiting for the situation to unfold. "When we found out that Eddie was wanted for murder we were immediately horrified that he had followed in his father's footsteps-" she didn't have time to finish when Eddie stood up abruptly looking at her. Father. A word that caused even more pain than the pack of demobats tearing through his body.
"Don't-" he began in a shaky voice. "Don't you dare mention him. Don't you dare call that man my father, you understand." he tried to be calm. In truth, with all his might he wanted to be self-controlled now, but it all seemed too much. All week he had bravely endured everything she said about him. But now when she did it in front of everyone he cared about, when she did it in front of your family, pulling the strongest card in the process he couldn't stand it. Wayne and Hopper became alarmed and walked closer to the table, but that didn't stop him. "This man is nobody to me. A stranger. A fucking sperm donor nothing more. He is a murderer. He killed my mother, and your sister. His last name is Davis. Not Munson." He felt something tighten in his throat. Something making it difficult for him to breathe. "My father's name is Wayne Munson. He raised me, he changed my last name, so don't you ever dare call that man my father again." Saying all this, he looked her straight in the eye. He wanted to make sure she understood every single word he said. Feeling tears come to his eyes and he quickly turned away walking into the house. He couldn't afford to cry in her presence. That's why it wasn't until he was in your room that everything he held inside gave vent. Angrily, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it with all his strength onto the floor then sat on it himself while leaning against the bed. He took the pillow cuddling his face into it. As the smell of your scent filled his nostrils even more tears flowed into his eyes. Like tentacles full of venom, thoughts of Aunt Theresa being right wrapped around his mind. He thought he wasn't worthy of you. Maybe she was right that he didn't have a good future ahead of him. If he couldn't provide it for himself how could he provide it for you as well? How could a freak hated by the whole city be worthy of someone as wonderful as you? He felt like screaming. At that moment he hated himself even more than his aunt.
"I thought I'd find you here." Hopper said as he entered the room and sat down next to him.
"Yeah?" Eddie earned a smile while wiping away tears.
"Actually, I think that would be everyone's first thought."
"So obvious."
"Listen... I shouldn't say this, but your aunt is really insufferable. Don't worry, okay? Everything she said was one big bullshit."
"Looking at how many times I rode with you in the police car I wouldn't agree," his words were bitter and full of sadness.
"I know you Eddie. I admit that at some point you were not on my list of favorites, but later I got to know you from a different side as well, and I have to admit that Wayne did a great job raising you."
"Wayne is a great guy," he said.
"So are you." Seeing Eddie only nodding in the negative, he sighed heavily and continued. "I know the man your aunt was talking about. And you are nothing like him. You almost died protecting my kids. You are a hero. And you make one of my daughters damn happy, so as far as I'm concerned you're one of the best people I've met in this messed up life."
"You think I make her happy?" the wall of sadness was shot through with tiny hope.
"Very happy. That's why I don't even want to dig into why she came home in your T-shirt today."
"That- it's not what you think," he began to explain.
"I said I don't want to hear about it. Besides, she came back today very smiling. I haven't seen her like that in a long time."
"Eddie what happened? Jim?" when you noticed that Eddie had disappeared from the table you asked Will where he had gone, and he only said that towards the house, without giving you any details. Moments later you found him sitting on the floor with Hopper. His eyes were a little puffy and red, and you knew he had been crying. You were afraid that Hopper might have said something that led to this, and as if reading your mind he raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
"I didn't do anything. Your boy just felt a little worse, you know yourself how wounds can sometimes give you a hard time."
Hearing this seconds later you were on your knees next to Eddie. "Do you need painkillers? Maybe you need to rest? You can stay here and sleep." With concern in your eyes, you watched his eyes become even glassier. "What can I do to help you, Eddie?" without a word he pulled you close with a hug. You were his safe heaven. He knew that with you he could be vulnerable. "Eddie, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want your wounds to hurt you even more." You said quietly scared that such closeness could inflict more pain on him.
"I don't care 'bout them," he muttered into your hair.
"Come down to us when you're feeling better, we'll be making a fire soon to toast marshmallows." Hopper said, leaving you alone.
The two of you sat cuddled together for some more time. When you returned to the rest of the party, you didn't leave his side for a moment, making sure he was feeling fine and everything was okay. The rest of the evening passed peacefully, especially when you all sat around the campfire listening to the melody of the acoustic guitar that "slays dragons."
When the day of salvation arrived and the intruders left the Munson kingdom Eddie could breathe a sigh of relief. Even Wayne admitted that their visit was too much to bear and they deserved a rest. Still, Eddie could not rest. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what your relationship would look like now. Will you forget everything that happened? Such as how close you were to each other? He tried everything to clear his head. Playing his guitar, writing songs, planning campaigns, drawing- nothing. Completely nothing was able to pull his thoughts off track. Countless times he approached the phone and was already almost grabbing the receiver but chickened out at the last moment. At the point when he could no longer handle himself he sat down on the couch with Wayne and they watched TV in silence. But whatever was playing on it didn't help. Then he heard a knock on the door. The thought crossed his mind that maybe it was his aunt who had returned, which in itself made him feel sick. Fortunately, it was you. Although the look on your face didn't indicate that you just came here to hang out. You were nervously biting your lips and your eyebrows crinkled together as you played with your fingers.
"Eddie, we need to talk." you said when he let you in and without a word you went to his room.
"What's wrong? I know pretending to love me for a week was hard, but I didn't think it was that hard." he tried to joke.
"Shut up!" you exclaimed. Your lower lip began to shake and tears came to your eyes. You had thought about the course of this conversation many times before coming here, but you didn't expect to be so carried away by your emotions. Seeing his surprised and then somewhat hurt look made you feel terrible for having erupted like that. He deserved an explanation. He deserved the truth. He didn't deserve yelling at him, for sure.
"I'm sick of how badly you talk about yourself. I'm sick of how you think you're not worth loving, because- because loving you is easy, Eddie! The easiest." you began, feeling like you were about to die of nerves, but you came here with a purpose and you were going to fulfill it. "I want to love you the way you deserve it. And you deserve the purest, the most honest and the strongest kind of love in the whole world. And I know that if you only let me, I will be able to give it to you. But I want you to know that I will understand if you don't feel the same way about me," the last words passed through your throat with extreme difficulty. You were ready to take the risk. A broken heart was a better option than keeping your feelings for him hidden. Especially since you had the opportunity to see what life at his side might look like. It looked like a dream. And you have to fight for dreams.
"You know I'm not the best at talking about feelings." he sighed. "So I'll use a little help," he said taking a couple of D&D figures in his hand and sat down on the bed. You sat down across from him. "If this were one of the campaigns I would say that a very important part was when Eddie the Banished and Y/n Golden Heart had a battle that lasted a week with two, extremely nasty monsters," the figurines portrayed a small fight scene. " After the monsters were gone they both met, in King Harrington's palace in the lobby, just by the door. Not feeling like feasting, they sneaked out and climbed onto the roof of a small shed that was nearby. Under the cover of night, they felt like they were the only people in the world. The night was beautiful. And the fact that evil was not lurking just around the corner gave it an added charm. The wind gently rustled between the trees, the hushed sounds of the feast could be heard in the background, and they were so immersed in a conversation they had created that they forgot about everything else. They talked about comets, about the next adventure that awaited them, about anything they wanted to talk about. The stars in the sky shone brighter than usual. They heralded the beginning. A good beginning." He grabbed your hand. It was a little sweaty because he vas nervous but you didn't care about it at all.
"How do you know it's a good one?" you asked quietly sniffing and feeling that you were calming down. You've always known that Eddie is amazing at storytelling, but this was the first time it involved something so sensitive.
"As the first shades of orange appeared in the sky and the sun gently began to illuminate his companion's face, Eddie the Banished realized a very meaningful matter."
"What kind of matter?" you waited impatiently for the continuation.
"From the very beginning as soon as y/n Golden Heart appeared in his life he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't remember anything because all his thoughts were directed only toward her. At first he thought she charmed him with a bunch of curses, after all she was the most powerful witch in the kingdom. Because of this, he thought, he felt a constant need and desire to always be by her side. Having once been under the influence of the fumes created by the powerful herbalist Argyle, he wondered what kind of magic it would take to reduce him to the size of a rat, so that he could hide in a pocket in her robe to be by her side for a few moments longer." He laughed, and you dreamily listened on. "His life was like a hurricane. It rushed dangerously with unimaginable speed bringing with it a lot of destruction and dangerous changes. But despite the hurricane, he waited for a warmer front. That morning when y/n the Golden Heart closed her eyes and smiled slightly feeling the warm rays of the sun surround her face, he realized that she was the warmer front. They had survived a lot, rescued each other by pulling out of fires and getting out of rivers, defeated the scariest monsters in the kingdom. And they were together. They never left each other's side. It reached him that his feelings were not caused by curses. What he felt was stronger than a curse. It was love. Simply put, he was in love with her, and to his last breath he wanted to be with her."
"Eddie..."
"Yeah?"
"How many points do I have to roll to kiss you right now?" hearing this sentence from your mouth he knew that nothing more was needed for his happiness, so without hesitation he joined your lips together.
Eddie was right that this was the beginning. A very good beginning.
taglist: @i-me-mine
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie stranger things#stranger things fanfic#justice for eddie#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#stranger things eddie#fanfiction#fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson friends to lovers#eddie munson almost smut#corrodedseraphine#corrodedseraphine easy#corrodedseraphine fanfiction#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic
783 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shadows of Grief / Cassandra Cain x Sibling! Male Reader
In the aftermath of a fierce battle against Darkseid, Cassandra Cain grapples with the overwhelming grief of losing her younger brother.
Word count: 3189
TW: mentions of death and blood. Angst.
A/n: This was requested by an anon. Enjoy it!
The night was heavy with darkness deeper than usual as if the city of Gotham itself mourned. Rain fell in sheets, blurring the neon lights into a haze of color that reflected off the slick pavement. Cassandra Cain stood at the edge of a rooftop, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum echoing the chaos of the world below. The wind whipped around her, a cruel reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in her soul since that fateful battle against Darkseid.
It had been weeks since Y/n—her younger brother, the light of her life, had been ripped from her. They had fought side by side, united against the overwhelming darkness that threatened to consume them. But in that final moment, as a blast of dark energy surged through the air, she had watched him fall—his body crumpling like a discarded puppet, lifeless against the backdrop of a war-torn city.
Cassandra had screamed his name, but the sound was lost in the cacophony of battle. Every night since, the echoes of that moment replayed in her mind, a tormenting loop of guilt and grief. She had been trained to fight, to endure pain, but nothing could prepare her for the agony of loss.
“Cassandra,” came a soft voice behind her, breaking the spell of her memories. It was Barbara Gordon, her friend and ally, stepping into the harsh reality of the moment. “We need to talk.”
Cassandra turned slightly, her expression unreadable. She couldn’t face Barbara; the concern etched on her face was a mirror to the sorrow within. "Not now," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain.
“It’s been weeks,” Barbara pressed gently, stepping closer. “We can’t keep avoiding this. We have to find a way to—”
“He’s gone!” Cassandra snapped, turning to face her, fury and despair flickering in her eyes. “He’s gone, and nothing can change that!” The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her grief.
Barbara stepped back, visibly taken aback. “I know it hurts, but shutting everyone out won’t help you. We’re here for you, but you have to let us in.”
Cassandra felt the ache in her chest swell. “What do you know about loss?” she challenged, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand! I was supposed to protect him!”
In the following silence, she could hear the distant sirens wailing, a haunting reminder of the chaos that lurked in the shadows. Y/n had looked up to her, had believed in her strength. But now, all she felt was weakness—the crushing weight of being unable to save him.
“I can’t do this,” she murmured, her fists clenching at her sides. “I can’t be part of this family anymore. Not like this.”
“Cassandra—” Barbara began, but the younger girl cut her off with a shake of her head.
“Just go.”
As Barbara turned to leave, the door of the rooftop creaked open, revealing the rest of the Bat Family, drawn to the tension. Dick, Jason, and Damian stood there, their expressions a mixture of concern and determination. They had all been reeling since the loss, but the burden felt heavier on Cassandra, who was drowning in guilt.
“Cassandra,” Dick spoke softly, his tone filled with a gentle authority. “We need to talk about Y/n. We need to remember what he fought for.”
Cassandra’s breath hitched, the mere mention of her brother’s name sending a jolt of pain through her heart. “What’s there to remember?” she spat. “He died because I wasn’t strong enough!”
Jason stepped forward, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and empathy. “Don’t you dare blame yourself! We all fought together. We all risked everything. You can’t carry this alone.”
“I don’t want to carry anything!” she yelled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I just want him back!”
The confession hung heavily in the air, each word punctuated by the sound of rain against the roof. The others shifted, caught in the web of their own emotions, but none dared to speak. They understood the tempest that was brewing inside Cassandra; they felt it too, the grief binding them together in a shared sorrow.
Just as the moment threatened to shatter, a sudden vibration broke the silence. Cassandra’s communicator buzzed frantically at her hip, a shrill sound that echoed against the despair. She fumbled for it, her heart racing as she answered.
“Cassandra, it’s Oracle,” Barbara’s voice crackled through. “You need to listen. We’ve got a lead… about Y/n. He might be alive.”
The world around her stopped. For a heartbeat, Cassandra couldn’t breathe. “What?” she gasped, her mind racing. “How? Where?”
“We traced some signals—unexplained energy readings that correspond with the location of the last battle. It���s… it’s complicated, but there’s a chance he survived.”
Every emotion rushed through her like a tidal wave—hope, disbelief, fear. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“Cassandra, I wouldn’t. But we need to move fast. If Y/n’s out there, we can’t waste any time.”
She felt her heart surge, the darkness that had enveloped her beginning to fracture, but it was tempered by an overwhelming fear of what lay ahead. What if he was hurt? What if he had changed? What if she wasn’t strong enough to save him again?
Cassandra turned to the others, who watched her with bated breath, their hopes ignited by the news. “We’re going,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “We’re going to find him.”
As they leaped into action, the weight of grief and anger began to shift. She was no longer just a sister in mourning; she was a warrior on a mission. The shadows of Y/n’s memory would no longer bind her; they would guide her as she raced toward an uncertain future—one filled with the flickering light of hope.
And maybe, just maybe, they would find him alive.
————————-
The Bat Team descended from the rooftop like phantoms through the Gotham night, their movements silent yet purposeful. Cassandra led the way, her heart pounding in time with her boots against the concrete. Each beat echoed the mantra in her mind: Find him. Bring him home.
They arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, the location marked on Oracle’s map as a hotspot for unusual energy readings. It loomed before them, a hulking shadow against the darkened skyline. Cassandra felt the familiar weight of anxiety settle over her, but it was accompanied by a flicker of determination she hadn’t felt in weeks.
“Stay alert,” Dick instructed as they crouched behind a crumbling wall, scanning the area. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Cassandra nodded, her focus sharpening. She could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins, the instinct to protect her family fueling her resolve. She wasn’t just doing this for herself; she was doing this for her brother, for the hope that they could be reunited.
With a silent signal, they moved as one, slipping into the shadows of the warehouse. The interior was dimly lit, flickering fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow across the space filled with crates and remnants of past shipments. A chilling stillness hung in the air, broken only by the sound of their footsteps.
Cassandra’s senses were heightened; she could almost hear her brother’s laughter echoing through the emptiness, feel his presence in the very air around her. It was disorienting and intoxicating, the memories threatening to distract her from the task at hand.
“Check the perimeter,” Jason said, breaking the spell. “We’ll sweep the area. Keep your comms open.”
As they split up, Cassandra found herself in a section of the warehouse filled with dust-covered equipment and broken machinery. Each step brought her closer to the possibility of Y/n’s survival, yet the shadows whispered doubts into her mind.
What if he’s not the same? What if he’s hurt? What if I can’t save him again?
Pushing the thoughts aside, she pressed deeper into the shadows, scanning every corner. The air felt charged, as if something momentous was about to happen. Then, a sudden noise shattered her concentration—a low groan followed by a clatter, echoing from the back of the warehouse.
Cassandra’s heart raced. She moved toward the sound, her breath quickening with every step. She reached a doorway, and peered through the crack just as the light flickered on. What she saw made her blood run cold.
In the center of the room stood a figure, slumped against a wall, his clothes tattered and stained. At first, she could barely breathe, as her mind fought to comprehend the sight before her. It was him—Y/n.
“Cassandra…” his voice was weak, strained, but unmistakably his. Y/n looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and confusion. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions crashing over her, and she felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
“You’re alive!” she breathed, rushing into the room.
But as she got closer, a cold dread gripped her heart. Y/n looked so fragile, his face pale and lined with pain. The bright spark she remembered was dimmed, replaced with shadows of what he had endured. “I thought you were… gone,” he gasped, struggling to push himself upright.
“Never,” she insisted, kneeling beside him. “I’m here. We’re going to get you out of here.”
Y/n shook his head slowly, anguish swirling in his eyes. “Cassandra, it’s not safe. They’ll come for me. They know I’m here.”
“What do you mean?” She reached for him, brushing her fingers against his cheek, desperate to reassure him. “Who? Who did this?”
Y/n winced, looking away as memories washed over him. “Darkseid… he wanted to use me. I fought, but…” His voice faltered, the weight of his trauma evident. “I couldn’t stop them. I thought I’d lost you, too.”
Cassandra felt a jagged pain slice through her chest, a reflection of her own suffering. “I lost you! I thought you were dead!” The emotions poured out, the fear and guilt flooding her heart. “I thought I had failed you.”
Y/n reached for her hand, his grip weak but determined. “You never failed me. I’m sorry. I should have been stronger. I tried to get back to you, but they… they kept me.”
The raw vulnerability in his words hit her hard, the realization that they had both been trapped in their own suffering. “You’re safe now,” she promised, her voice firm despite the tremor of her heart. “We’re getting you out of here, I swear.”
Suddenly, the sounds of boots echoed through the warehouse, and the air crackled with danger. Cassandra’s instincts kicked in, her body tensing as she prepared to fight. “We have to move—now!” she urged, her heart racing at the thought of losing him again.
Before they could escape, the door burst open, and a group of armed men stormed in, their faces obscured by masks. Cassandra instinctively shielded her brother, her body tensing with adrenaline. “Get back!” she shouted, her voice ringing out with authority.
“ Orphan!” one of the men yelled, recognizing her instantly. “We’re not here for you! Stand down, and you won’t get hurt.”
But she couldn’t listen. Not now. Not after finding him alive. “You won’t touch him!” She lunged forward, fueled by a mix of rage and desperation, her training kicking in as she fought back against the encroaching threat.
Fists flew, and the chaos erupted as the Bat Team stormed in behind her, joining the fray. Nightwing and Red Hood moved like shadows, quickly dispatching the attackers. She fought alongside them, but her eyes never left her brother, who struggled to stand against the wall.
“Stay back!” Cassandra shouted, glancing over her shoulder. She felt the weight of her brother’s pain and fear, the shadows of Darkseid’s grip still lurking in his eyes. “We’ll handle this!”
Just as they seemed to gain the upper hand, a familiar voice cut through the din. “Stop!”
Damian Wayne stood in the doorway, his expression fierce and unwavering. “Enough! Let’s finish this quickly. We don’t have time.”
The remaining attackers paused, glancing at each other as if weighing their options. Cassandra could see the flicker of hesitation, but she didn’t allow herself to think. She dove back into the fight, adrenaline coursing through her as she focused on protecting her brother.
With a final surge of strength, the Bat Team worked together, overwhelming their opponents. Cassandra felt the rush of victory, the weight of fear beginning to lift as the last of the attackers fell. She turned to Y/n, her heart pounding as she rushed to his side.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice thick with worry.
He nodded weakly, but she could see the strain in his eyes. “I’m… I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Fine isn’t good enough,” she insisted, her protective instincts flaring. “We need to get you to a hospital. You’re not going to be left behind again.”
As they made their way out of the warehouse, the Bat Team flanked them, a shield against the darkness that had sought to tear them apart. They moved quickly, urgency propelling them forward into the night, where the rain washed away the remnants of battle.
“Cassandra,” Y/n brother said quietly as they reached the Batmobile. “I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t want to leave you.”
“You didn’t leave me,” she replied, her voice steady despite the fear threatening to creep back in. “You fought. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
As they climbed into the car, she took his hand in hers, holding on tightly as they sped away from the shadows of the warehouse. The world around them felt brightened by the hope of his return, but Cassandra knew the path ahead would still be fraught with challenges.
But together, they would face it all—stronger than the darkness that had threatened to tear them apart. Together, they would heal.
And this time, she would protect him with everything she had.
#dc universe#dc comics#Batman#cassandra cain angst#cassandra cain x reader#male reader#oracle#red hood#nightwing#Robin#orphan#batgirl#batfam
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
right where you left me pt.2
in which james sirius potter loses the girl
PAIRING: james sirius potter x reader
WARNINGS: GIVEN LAST NAME, making out, fluff, james is freaking out, self esteem issues, more making out, arguing, ANGST
AN: this is directly pulled from my wattpad book, which has an oc, so don't be alarmed if when you read it on wattpad it says 'lydia' THAT'S JUST THE OC DON'T WORRY YOU FOUND THE RIGHT BOOK<3
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
That had been three hours ago. You had been pacing in your room ever since, debating whether to go see James or force yourself to sleep.
As you had known for longer than you cared to admit, James was your weakness. Moments later, you carefully opened your door, quietly walking over to his room.
Leaning towards the door, you hissed. "James."
No reply.
You knocked quietly, scared that any noise you made would wake his parents. "James."
Bedsheets ruffled, and the door opened quickly. His eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, but he still looked just as dreamy as you'd left him.
Smiling widely, you whispered. "May I?"
He nodded eagerly. "Please."
You inspected his room, observing his walls lined with trophies and toys. You fought the urge to pinch his cheeks- it was adorable how he still proudly had his posters of Oliver Wood and Viktor Krum on his wall. You looked over at his bedstand, laughing lightly. "You don't have your glasses on."
He shook his head, bouncing nervously on his feet. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, James." You turned around, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just wanted to see you, that's all."
He sauntered over, smirking. "Ah." He lowered his voice. "So you missed me?"
"Some would say that." You sat down on his bed, almost enjoying the way he squirmed.
He swallowed thickly. "As much as I enjoy this, exactly why are you here?"
You turned towards him, tilting your head. "Look at the context clues, Potter."
His cheeks turned bright red, reaching out to grab his glasses. You swatted his hand, pulling him over to sit beside you. "You're beautiful, you know."
He rolled his eyes, still cherry red. "How unoriginal of you."
He reached for his glasses again, and you giggled. "Leave them."
"I can't see without them."
"That's fine." You straddled his waist, playing with the hair at the bottom of his hair. "Imagine."
A shiver ran down his spine, and he melted from your touch. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let his head fall onto your shoulder. "I'm legally blind, love."
You whispered in his ear. "Do you really need glasses for what we're about to do?"
He groaned, tightening his hold on your waist. "For the things I'm about to do, I want to remember every single detail."
Leaving Potter Manor was difficult.
Parting ways at Kings Cross was torture. Ginny smiled tearily, tightly hugging each of her children. She hugged her niece and nephew before hugging you tightly. "Look after them, please."
You nodded adamantly. "I'll do my best, Mrs.Potter."
Harry sighed. "As much as I don't want you all to leave..." He pointed at the clock. "I believe it's time to board."
James hugged his parents one last time before walking over to you. Without even asking, he grabbed your bags, sprinting away before you could stop him. You groaned, racing after him. "James Potter, put them down!"
Harry hid his laughter behind his hand, nudging his wife as they walked back to the lot. "Do you think they know we have wards on the doors?"
Ginny smirked. "Judging from the fact three wards were broken last night, I don't believe so." She shrugged, looping her arm through her husband's. "Just this once; perhaps we'll let them get away with it."
The sun peeked through the curtains, making you groan into your pillow. Ophelia laughed. "You think after six years of this, you wouldn't be complaining."
"You thought wrong then. I will never like waking up early." You sighed, sitting up. "Why can't classes start later?"
"Because the professors want us to suffer."
"Right." You tilted your head. "Why are you so cheery?"
Ophelia laughed. "Me?"
"Yes, you." You squinted. "What happened this summer?"
Ophelia shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
This continued to breakfast, with you pestering Ophelia to spill her secrets. "Come on, Phelia. You can tell me."
"Y/N, for the last time, nothing happened." She sighed. "Now, eat your eggs."
"You're no fun."
Ophelia smirked. "And why is James staring at you?"
"Isn't he always?"
You turned around, grinning. "Hello, Pammy." You gestured to the empty space beside you. "Sit. Help me figure out what Ophelia did this summer."
Pamela looked at the blonde, tilting her head. "Something happens this summer?"
Ophelia blushed. "I-"
The brunette smirked, taking a bite out of her biscuit. "You seem nervous."
Ophelia groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Nothing happened, I swear."
Pamela nodded, visibly deflating. "Right."
Ophelia tripped over her words. "It wasn't nothing. It's just that-"
Pam laughed lightly, placing her hand over Ophelia's. "I was only joking."
You looked between the two suspiciously. "Last I remember, you two were supposed to meet up this summer."
Pam shook her head, ripping her hand from Ophelia's like it was suddenly scolding hot. "That fell through. My parents wanted to take me to France for a debutante ball."
You nodded, still not convinced. "Right."
Ophelia grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. "How was the Potters?"
You blushed, ignoring the fact that they had both (together) expertly changed the subject. "Fine."
"And you said I was being secretive," Ophelia muttered.
"It was lots of swimming and Quidditch." You appeased her. "I can now proudly say I know how to play Quidditch now."
"And who taught you how to do that?" Pamela smirked, nudging her friend teasingly.
"Me."
You looked up, smiling gently. "Hello, James."
He smiled back, looking at Pamela and Ophelia. "Ladies."
"Hello, Potter." Pamela squinted. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"
"Just wanted to walk Edwards to class. We have the same one, advanced potions."
You grinned. "I didn't know we shared that class."
"Well, I want to be an auror and I remembered you talking about it, so..." He clapped his hands. "Ready to go?"
You nodded quickly, grabbing a muffin. "I'm right behind you." You clambered out of your seat, following James out of the Great Hall. Pamela rolled her eyes, taking a rather vindictive bite out of her biscuit.
"She didn't even say goodbye."
"Can you tell me what this potion does?" Professor Zabini sighed, clearing his throat. "Mr.Potter?"
"It's Amortentia, sir. It creates an intense infatuation."
The older man nodded, satisfied with James's answer. "Ms.Edwards, can you tell us how to identify this potion?"
"It's characterized by its pearl sheen and spiral steam, Professor."
"10 points to Ravenclaw." He smiled. "Could you give us an example?"
You blushed. "I'm sorry, sir?"
"Could you tell us what you smell?"
"I—" James smiled comfortingly, pushing you toward the front of the class. "Of course, sir." You stepped up to the cauldron, taking a deep breath. "I smell broom polish, salt water, and fireworks powder."
"Thank you." He looked around the classroom. "Any other volunteers?"
James stepped forward. Professor Zabini smiled. "Very good, Mr.Potter."
"I smell lavender, parchment, and cherry blossoms, sir." Your face turned bright red, staring at the ground.
Zabini nodded. "Today, we will be brewing Living Death. In the past, we've given a vial of Liquid Luck as a prize, but the board has decided that giving sixth-years Liquid Luck is not a wise choice." He laughed to himself. "I think it provides an incentive to become competitive, but alas..." He clapped his hands. "Get to work!"
You sighed, shaking your head as you tried to focus on your book. "You need to stop staring at me. I'm trying to study."
James shook his head. "Well, I'm studying your face, so hold still."
You glared up at him, slamming your book shut. "I'll be back."
"I'll come with you then." He whispered, following after you like a lost puppy. You giggled, shoving him playfully. "Honestly, James." Turning down the aisle, you scanned the shelf for your book. "Shit."
"What's wrong?"
"The book's too high." You rolled your eyes, pushing your sleeves up to your elbows. "Watch my back."
"What do you mean watch your-" James laughed. "You know you can use magic, right Edwards?"
"I don't want to become dependent. What if I lose my magic?" you started climbing the shelf, reaching out. "I almost-" Your balance shifted, and your eyes widened, arms flailing as you fell backwards. "James!" You clamped your eyes shut, waiting to hit the ground.
"This is why we use magic, love." You opened your eyes hesitantly, grinning up at your savior.
"Thank you..."
He nodded, looking down at your lips. "Anytime."
"James..." He put you down, his arms still around your waist. You smirked, whispering in his ear. "Later."
You'd both just sat down when James leaned across the table with a dangerous look on his face. "It feels like later."
You packed your books into your bag, standing up. James sighed. "Have I upset you? It was just a joke, love. I'm-"
"I thought you said it felt like later." You grabbed his tie, pulling him out of his seat. "You'll find I'm a woman of my word."
"Merlin Edwards. You're going to be the death of me."
The corridors were quiet if you discounted the quiet laughter that left their mouths. "Do you-"
James nodded eagerly. "Follow me." He grabbed your hand, pulling you further down the corridor.
You giggled. "Bring girls to these spots often, then?"
He shook his head. "Only you, love."
You flushed, rolling your eyes. "You're a sap, Potter."
"What can I say?" He pulled open a painting, which led to another (much smaller) corridor. "You make me lovesick."
You were sure your entire body was burning. Stepping closer to him, you put your arms around his neck. "Close the painting."
"We're not there just yet."
"I don't care." You pulled his mouth closer to yours. "Unless you do-"
"I'm closing it."
You muttered, a small glow blooming from your wand. "I want to see your face."
James sighed, pulling you closer. "So romantic."
"I-" Your lips were pulled into his, falling into his hold. He smirked, kissing your bottom lip lightly. "You talk too much."
"Oh, I talk too much?" He kissed you again so feverishly that your foot popped off the ground ever so slightly.
"You do." He held you against the wall, kissing down your neck. "I wonder how I can keep you quiet."
Sneaking out night after night had proven easier than you thought (although you did feel terrible lying to Ophelia.)
You, James, and most of your friends were studying in the Great Hall when a seventh-year Hufflepuff approached you. You smiled brightly, recognizing him as Conrad Sinclair, Hufflepuff's seeker. "Sinclair."
"Edwards." He waved quickly at the rest, gazing curiously at James before turning slowly back to you. "I was wondering..." He coughed, and James leaned back in his chair.
An intimidation tactic, you could only assume.
"Spit it out, mate."
You glared at him, smiling gently at the Hufflepuff. "Yes?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me." He smiled. "On a date."
James choked on his water, causing more than just his friends to start staring at him. Rose watched in utter fascination.
You may have been the Ravenclaw of the group, but Rose was just as smart, and she could have told anyone that you and her cousin had been sneaking around since before they came to Hogwarts. It was obvious.
You frowned. "I'm afraid someone else has already asked me."
He nodded slowly, looking back at James. "I see."
You smiled quickly. "I would, however, love to go with you as a friend."
"I'd like that, " he smiled. I'd like that very much." He clapped his hands, awkwardly stepping backward. "I'll see you around." He almost glared at James, muttering a goodbye. "Potter."
Rose laughed. "That was hard to watch."
You smacked her arm, hissing. "Be nice, Rosie."
Lily looked in between her brother and friend, whispering curiously. "What's going on between you two?"
James whispered back, not meeting her eyes. "What do you mean, Lil?"
"Why are you sulking? She didn't say yes. You still have a chance."
"Yeah, maybe."
You shut your book, looking at him expectedly. "James, do you want to come help me study in the library? I can't focus in here."
He nodded, seemingly forgetting about the feelings he'd just expressed to his sister. "I'll catch up with you."
Lily shook her head as she watched her brother chase after the Ravenclaw. Something was going on, and she was going to figure it out.
You could tell something was off the moment James sat down and opened up a book. In the seven years you had known him, not once had be opened up a book in your presence. It annoyed you beyond belief, as he (somehow) managed to keep consistently high marks. You looked across the table, tilting your head. "You're being awfully quiet over there."
He hummed, pushing his face further into the book. "Just studying, love."
You shook your head, setting the textbook down haphazardly. "What's going on James?"
He ignored you, but you could tell he was itching to speak. You reached out, placing a comforting had over his. "Jamie did something happen-"
He pulled his hand back, shaking his head. "Let me study, love."
"Don't shut me out. I can-"
He shut his book calmly, looking up at her intensely. "Do you like me?"
You shook your head, choking on the air you'd just inhaled. "What do you-"
He crossed his arms, tilting his head. "Do you like me? Is this just a game to you, or are we-" He trailed off. "I know you're scared, but so am I, and I feel like..." He whispered. "I feel used."
You shook your head quickly, reaching out to touch his hand. "I need you to trust me when I say I would never do that to you."
"Well, it seems like it." His eyes watered, and he placed a hand over his heart. "It feels like it."
"James, I never had the intention of hurting you. I just- I just don't like everyone knowing; I can't stand people judging and poking fun."
"So you're embarrassed of me? Is that it?"
"James, no! That's not it at all."
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Then what is it? What-"
"I don't want to be known as the girl who tamed James Sirius Potter."
He scoffed. "Wha-"
"I can't count the amount of times I've heard about how handsome you are, how amazing you are, who everyone thought you were going to end up with. You know the amount of girls in our year who are in love with you? The amount of girls in the school that are in love with you? I would be public enemy number one, I would be the punchline of every joke, and I don't-" You laughed. "I can't take that. I don't want to be ridiculed because I'm with you. I like you too much, and it hurts knowing everyone thinks that I'm not enough."
"Since when have you ever cared what people thought?"
"Since I started falling in love with you." You whispered. "That's when."
James stood up, kneeling in front of you. "I'd never let that happen-"
You laughed, staring into your hands. If you looked into James's eyes, you'd cave; you knew it. "I'm not worth it."
"You're mad."
You scoffed, finally looking up. "I beg your pardon?"
"You are worth everything. I would give up everything to be with you." He grabbed your hand, caressing it gently. "Everything."
"Jamie-"
"Don't mistake my love for weakness. I'm still upset." He leaned forward, whispering in your ear. "Calling me nicknames won't get you out of this."
Your heart fluttered, but you pulled yourself back to reality. "I can't handle being ridiculed constantly, James. I'm sorry." You pulled your hand out of his touch, standing up. "I get it enough from my own family."
James stood with you. "When are you going to realize she's wrong? Your sister is a god-awful excuse of a person- of a sibling." He crossed his arms. "If anything, we should talk about how I'm not good enough for you."
"You know that's not true."
"Edwards, listen to me. I've been in love with you since our second year. You're all I think about when I wake up and when I go to bed. And if you're going to let love-crazed girls ruin what we have, then you're not the person I thought you were."
You tried to form words; all you could do was look away. Staring at the library exit, you quickly realized half of the student population was staring at you.
So much for not wanting the fangirls to know.
Without sparing James another glance, you walked out of the library.
Seconds after you had left the library, a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you into an all too familiar (secret) passageway. You laughed. "I think this passageway is cursed."
"Don't do that."
You rolled your eyes. "Do what, exactly?"
"Fight with me." James intertwined your fingers, pulling you closer. "Fight for me."
A tear fell down your cheek, and you pulled your hand out of his hold, quickly wiping it away. "I don't have any fight left. I refuse to feel embarrassed for simply existing."
His voice cracked. "I've already told you that won't be a problem. At this point, you're just making up excuses."
"You don't get it!" She yelled. "You're Harry Potter's son. You could be the absolute worst person in the wizarding world, and people would still have respect for you. They expect great things from you; I'd be a letdown."
He rolled his eyes. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I wouldn't let that happen." His eyes were pleading with you to say anything. "Was all of it a lie?"
"I-"
"Just tell me it's a lie. Tell me that we're done, and I'll move on, I swear." He moved closer to you, your lips inches apart. "I'll leave you alone, I promise."
You took a step back, holding yourself. "James..."
"You're a coward."
You scoffed. "Well, not all of us were sorted into Gryffindor."
"That's ridiculous. This is ridiculous." He ran a hand through his hair once again. "Why are you acting like this?"
You rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry that I don't meet your standards."
"You are my standard."
You flailed your arms, on the verge of falling into a puddle of tears. "Stop saying things like that."
He shook his head. "No."
At that moment, you did what you thought was best. What you thought was best, for both of you. "I'm done." You pulled your bag closer, stepping away. "We're done."
He laughed humourlessly. "You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do." You stepped back, walking into a wall. "I mean it."
He shook his head harder. His heart yearned to reach out and kiss you senselessly; you looked radiant in this light. You looked radiant in all lights. "Then you're a liar."
"I've been called worse." He took a step closer, and you hiccuped, tears now falling in a constant stream. "And you promised."
He rested his forehead against yours for a moment before taking a deep breath. Another sob left you, pressing your forehead against his in return.
"I love you, Edwards."
Your heart broke, watching as his eyes pleaded with yours. When he knew you wouldn't do a thing to salvage it, he collected himself, and walked away, leaving you alone.
taglist: @beebeechaos
this is an excerpt from my wattpad story- unconditionally!! feel free to give it a look!!
wattpad: raven-dor
#james sirius potter x reader#james sirius potter#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter next generation#literature#harrypooter#harry potter next gen#golden trio
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
D is for -- Deacon
DEEKS!
Okay, sorry, had to get that out, I just... I love Deacon, that's what he does to me, I just love him. Though I was surprised that Danse was less of an adversary in the voting 🤔, but I digress. Anyway though, without further ado, here's this! It's... well, sad, but I hope you like it anyway! <3
And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!
Also, just a quick TW for suicidal thoughts! Stay safe out there, I love you all ❤️😊
--
Pair: Deacon x g/n! Sole
Dialogue: "I can't lose you too."
Word: Devastation
Rating: SFW
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 1.2k
“Dammit, I should’ve been there.” Sole’s fingers stroked lightly over the back of Deacon’s hand where it dangled loosely from the medical cot. They savored the touch between them, the feeling unfamiliar, as they comforted their unconscious companion in a way he’d never have allowed, were he awake.
“Should’ve helped. Then maybe… Maybe you wouldn’t be like this, and maybe Glory would still be…” Sole sighed, and the tears that’d been lingering in their waterline, barely managing to keep from spilling down their cheeks, finally gave way.
“If the Brotherhood had gotten you too, I… I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
They kept whispering to him, in the dim of the Railroad’s latest hideout.
Carrington had fallen asleep sitting up in a folding chair on the other side of the small room, where he remained now, his chin resting on his chest and his arms folded around himself limply. The work had been nonstop since the attack on the church, and even after all of it, the doctor had told Sole that Deacon was only up to fate now. He’d done all he could for the spy, but his injuries were extensive, and he hadn’t woken up once in the three days since the Brotherhood had invaded.
Sole had been here for two of those days, nagging Carrington, hovering over their partner, speaking to him, holding his hand, hoping, beyond hope, that his eyes would open, that he’d say their name, and then some sarcastic comment through gritted teeth.
A voice sounded from the other room, tearing them from their thoughts.
Desdemona.
She’d only just woken up herself, they noted. Everyone who’d managed to make it out alive seemed to have only just begun to come down from the boost of adrenaline they’d gotten from the fight; and now, after the loudness of the battle, of their fear and rage and grief, most everyone in this barebones, concrete bunker had collapsed.
Sole’s own eyes itched for the solace of sleep, but their mind couldn't comprehend leaving, even for a moment, even with Deacon's hand still in theirs, even with their fingers firmly set upon his pulse. If they woke up and he was gone…
“I can’t…" They spoke aloud with a sniffle, "After everything, everyone that I’ve…”
The sound of their shaky sigh echoed through the silent room, the only noise beyond Des’s muffled, whispered words across the way.
“I... I just can’t lose you too. I don't think I'd be able to... go on, after.”
Sole's eyes were closed, their forehead leaning down against the side of the mattress as they spoke into the fabric in a hushed tone. Their cheeks felt cold with the wetness still upon them, the tears had run out, and all that was left was an empty feeling deep within their chest.
Until they felt Deacon’s fingers twitch against their palm.
“Don’t gotta worry about that quite yet, partner.” His voice rasped from above them, and Sole jolted backwards in their chair, nearly toppling over in their haste to see if they'd truly heard him.
“Deacon, oh my god.” Their voice barely managed to leave them with any sort of breath behind it, coming out almost as a squeak, that left Deacon with a silly little grin on his face.
It was surreal. Seeing him, seeing him smile nonetheless, after days of blank expressions, of light, unconscious grimaces, and labored breaths that were so close to being his last. Hearing him too, that voice they loved, that they weren't sure they'd have the chance to hear again. To hear him joking, whispering, laughing, and yes, even the lying they'd missed those past few days. Now though, it was like they were in a dream, floating in their own hopes and the beliefs they'd been manifesting since they'd sat themself beside their injured partner all those restless hours ago.
Without thinking, Sole threw their outstretched arms around their companion’s shoulders, and with the gentlest touch they could manage in their desperation, they pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Ah, okay, yeah…” He cleared his throat and Sole could feel the way his ravaged body tensed at the new contact. But they couldn't bring themself to pull away. Not with the fresh tears springing from their eyes, not with the way their lip trembled and their hands shook.
“That’s… okay." He chuckled, still sounding strained. "Yep, just get it all out."
A deep breath rattled Sole's chest, and to their surprise, Deacon’s hands slowly returned their gesture; and furthering their wonder, he didn’t say another word to attenuate their shared contact.
“I’m sorry.” Sole whispered to him after a long moment. “I’m sorry about everything, about you, about not being here, I’m sorry about... G-Glory and the church, about the Brotherhood. Just… I should have been with you, and I know that, and I'm just--.”
“What, so you can have one of these cots too?" They felt him gesture down to the bed with one hand, and finally, managed to pull themself back.
"They’re really not that comfortable," he continued with that smirk that made their heart soar. "I’m tellin’ ya. You didn’t miss out on much.”
Despite themself, despite the tears they could still feel sliding down their cheeks, Sole felt a laugh force itself from their chest.
“That’s good to hear.” They said back, as relief continued to cloud their voice. “But still, I can’t help but feel guilty, Deacon… All that you’ve suffered, all that the Railroad has gone through, and here I am–”
“Yeah, here you are.” He managed through the pain in his battered chest, even injecting hints of humor into the words. As he always did best. “Never having suffered a day in your life. Where were you, anyways? The bahamas? Des was right about you. A freeloader through and through.”
Despite the dripping sarcasm, Sole couldn’t help but close their eyes to the words.
I may as well have been, for all the use I was to the people who needed me.
They’d been out on a mission, sure, but did that matter now? Now that the Brotherhood had already gone through with the very plan they’d been out investigating.
They hadn't been quick enough, thorough enough, they’d failed. And now… Well, Glory’s death was as much on them as it was on those steel-coated bastards, wasn’t it?
“Hey.” Their partner’s voice was softer now, less ‘humorous sting’ than they’d come to expect, more serious than they'd --maybe ever-- heard him. “It’s not your fault, Sole. You’re not psychic, you couldn’t have predicted this as much as anyone else. We all messed up, somehow, but… We’re gonna pay them back.”
His eyes closed, maybe from the effort of speaking, of the actions that he had promised. Yet still, even said through gritted teeth, even said in exhaustion and filled to the brim with malice, Sole felt his words instill a hope in their own mind, their own heart.
“We are.” They promised, and moved their hand to grasp firmly with his again. “And this time, I’m gonna be there for it. No matter what.”
"Hmm." They heard him hum, as Deacon settled back against the too-flat pillow on his cot. "Me too." He finished, and Sole could only smile, return their fingers to the pulse point on his wrist, and hope that both of them were telling the truth.
#2k event#2k celebration#secret event#fallout#fallout companions#fallout 4#fallout 4 companions#fallout deacon#deacon fo4#deacon fallout 4#deacon x sole survivor
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
tell me why I can’t actually write anything for jumin and keep writing dumb little ficlets.
this takes place after seven’s route but seven x mc never happened :) just based off one of the spaceship thoughts where jumin says that three hours of sleep is enough
Jumin’s eyes are bloodshot when he answers the door. It makes you gasp silently, and you take two seconds to take in his appearance and he yours before your hand is on his cheek.
“Are you okay?”
He flinches—you immediately retract your hand. But the hard gaze in his eye melts when he seems to fully recognize you. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d visit.” Holding up a bag with a container of soup, you offer it to him. “I know you have a chef to make you something much more nutritional and delicious, but just in case you needed a…a pick me up, I thought I’d…I just wanted to…”
You swallow, feeling yourself giving up. This is stupid. Why are you here? The security guards recognized you well enough now to let you up, but why did you think Jumin would want you here in the first place?
You’re about to leave when he reaches out and takes the bag, fingers briefly grazing yours and sending the exact same jolt through you as they did the first time he shook your hand. “Thank you,” he speaks softly, without even looking at the contents. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a…pick me up. Would you like to come inside?”
Graciously, you accept. Once you step in, you smile at Elizabeth, who regards you curiously but seems to remember you when you kneel down and stroke her head gently with two fingers. Behind you, you hear Jumin place the bag on the kitchen counter.
The penthouse, though clean as always, feels more disorganized than normal, like it’s still waiting for someone to come and live in it. You wonder, how much living has Jumin really been doing since V’s death?
“Can I get you something?” comes his voice, more hoarse than you’re used to, as though it hasn’t gotten any rest at all. Which is no surprise, given the state he’s in, bloodshot eyes and dark eyebags.
“I’m fine, thank you.” You stand up, making your way over to him. Jumin has started to rummage in his cupboard, likely looking for something to serve anyways. “Jumin.”
“Hm?”
“Jumin, I mean it, I’m not hungry.”
“Let me call the chef. He can make something light—“
“No.”
When he turns, you’re right behind him, albeit with a step to give him his space. “Jumin, when is the last time you slept?” Before he can answer you add. “Slept properly.”
Averting his eyes, Jumin seems to focus on some part of the floor. “The RFA has lost its leader. Saeyoung and his brother need security, so do you. And C&R is losing stock because of my father’s recent divorce.” You tilt down, meeting his gaze with your own set ones, demanding an answer. Jumin sighs, closing his eyes for a second.
“Three hours is more than enough for me every night.”
“Three hours!?” you cry, taking his hand in your own. “Jumin, you need to sleep!”
“I can’t,” he seethes, not angrily but determined. “There’s too many things to—“
You move without meaning to, sliding your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. There’s only so much you can stand to, and seeing him work like this, day and night, it hurts you too. You’ll never, ever regret helping Saeyoung when he needed you, but you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t neglect your friendship with Jumin.
His hands hover in the air for a second, but eventually land on your back. “I…am sorry to make you worry. There’s simply too much to do.”
“It can wait. I promise you it can wait.” Both your heads adjust on their own, his to tuck you under his chin properly, yours to breathe in his wonderfully comforting scent. Despite his obvious protests, his body melts into yours, like all he needed to completely relax was someone to just hold him. “Please at least sleep. I can call the chef for you once you wake up or I can even make something myself, but please just—“
“You’ll stay?” Jumin asks weakly, hopefully.
The sound you hear might just be your own heart breaking in two.
“Of course I’ll stay.” With one hand on his chest, you hear his heartbeat, a bit faster than your expected, but reassuring. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll stay here as long as you need.” You’re still wrapped up in his arms, and selfishly, you don’t want to let go. You remind yourself you’re here for him, and not to flirt or to seek the comfort that only he provides. It’s time to do Jumin a favor for a change. “Don’t worry about Saeyoung and Saeran, and don’t worry about C&R. Nothing will happen if you sleep for a bit. And don’t worry about me either.”
Visibly, you see him swallow. “I…always worry about you.”
“There’s no need to when I’m right here, right?” Never mind that his concern for you makes your heart skip a beat. “You know that I’m safest here in the penthouse with you. So it’s okay. Don’t worry about me, I’m safe.”
Then, your body moves on its own again, and you kiss his forehead. Jumin’s eyes flutter close. Softly, he nods.
After doing a quick mental victory dance, you tug him by the cuffs of his shirt to the bedroom. Like you’re his girlfriend or wife nagging him.
No. No. None of that.
You sit on the opposite side of the bed, expecting him to simply lay down normally, but Jumin is gone. You can tell that the second he let himself relax even a bit, his tiredness him him all at once. Instead of slipping under the sheets, he collapses on the bed, resting his head on your lap.
Any protest you might have had that this wasn’t good for his neck is silenced the second he presses into your stomach, his breath evening out.
Okay, maybe this was fine. It’s not like you invited him to do it, you were just being a good friend. And if you began to stroke the soft strands of his hair between your fingers, then that was just being an extra good friend. He seems to like it, a low purr coming from his throat.
You bite back a smile. It seems he and Elizabeth share more similarities than some would think.
Finally, Jumin looks peaceful. Somewhat blissfully, you tuck a tuft of his hair behind his ear and sit back, guarding over the man as sleep totally, completely takes him.
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Hiii, how are you doing??💓💓
First: I love your blog!!
Second: I never wrote an ask but I saw that you requests are open so I thought “why not”. But still: I’m shy.
I hope this ideas makes sense:
Basically since I finished Rebels I kinda crated this sort of ff in my head where the read is a f!jedi that used to be romantically involved with Thrawn during the clone wars (I was thinking that perhaps she could have been Anakin’s friend and the two met when him and Thrawn went for the mission about Padme). And now, after all this time, they met again: he is serving the empire, she is running away from it. Maybe they could met during Rebels or during the Ahsoka show (whatever you prefer). And I was thinking angst that ends with well…nsfw(??)
I mean if this could work for you, it will make my day. But please, feel free to ignore if this is a stupid ass idea HAHAH
(I’m not even sure that this could work with the canon timeline)
Have a good day:))
And thanks in any case💗💗" -anon
Thrawn x f!reader
tags: Angst, smut, blood, strangulation, p in v, creampie
You dance with death.
One step after one another, diving, blocking, repelling… With your lightsaber you dance. You have no other choice or the Imperials will get you. With a swift move of the blade you throw back lasers at their shooter. You project yourself in the Force, spinning and kicking this armada of Death troopers.
A part of you is relieved, for a moment you have feared to face off the inquisitors and their leader Darth Vader, but Death troopers and Navy officers you can manage. You block again, jumping and kicking one in the chest, they’re sent right against their colleagues and collapse. You look around you, sweat rolling at your temples, you're encircled. They all round around you with their weapons drowned at your head and chest.
“Arms up! Drop your weapon!” The leader shouts.
Like hell you will! You’ll teach them some Jedi tricks and a lesson. You close your eyes to dive deep in the Force and that’s when one of them shots you in the back.
______________________________________________________
You open your eyes in a flash, stand up in a jump and immediately regret it, feeling dizzy and vertigos making you lose your balance. You sit on the berth with a groan.
Cowards, shouting you like that…
You reopen your eyes to observe your surroundings, you’re in a cell with black and red shades, typical of ISDs. You shake your hea-
Your lightsaber!?
You palp your hip, nothing.
“Is this what you are searching for?” A man's voice raises from behind you.
You spin swiftly, projecting yourself in the force to throw this impudent against a wall.
But nothing.
You don’t feel anything.
You’ve lost all connections to the Force.
“It is useless, I have taken my precautions against your little tricks.” he continues calmly.
You look at your handcuffed hands without understanding.
How?
How does he do that?
You look frowning at the shadows of the cell, you can only distinguish a silhouette sitting in the dark with two red eyes piercing the obscurity and a purring.
Those eyes…
No.
Ridicule.
“Show yourself and face me, coward!” You shout, baring your teeth.
“Chained? Without your lightsaber or the Force? I remember you to be more prudent and thoughtful…” You think you hear amusement in the tone.
“Don’t speak like you know me, Imperial trash! I do not share bread with the likes of you!”
“So I have seen.”
Did you just hear a yipping? You see his hand raise to caress something on his shoulders.
“Shushhhh, dear… I am rather pleased to see you in such good health however. After all that happened, I was fearing for your life."
"Well sorry to disappoint. On my hand I don't remember meeting a single Imperial that escaped my blade." You spite.
"We did meet. Long ago, in different circumstances. It was brief but I remember it to be quite… Intense. For both of us."
It is him!
Shut up !
You snarl.
"And what if you stopped to speak with enigmas and showed your pretty face? So I can kick it."
He chuckles. Is he making fun of you?
"I remember a time where jedis were peacekeepers and diplomats."
"And I remember times where your damn flag wasn't flowing at each corner of the galaxy. People change!"
"Indeed. But you also stayed the same in some aspects."
Okay you're fed up now, you start pulling on your chain, seeing if there is any slack.
"Like I said: useless." He plainly states.
"Well I have to be imaginative so I can see who I'm talking to!" You pull harder.
"I thought anger was forbidden for jedis"
"Back when everything wasn't trying to kill us! You'll learn I'm quite flexible and broad minded when it comes to my survival!"
"I already know. I remember you fierce and deadly on the battlefield, but also sneaky and more restrained."
This man is making you crazy. You tug one last time, and sigh, defeated. You let yourself fall on the bunk.
"Ready to speak like adults?" He asks softly.
"It looks like I don't have a choice…" You reluctantly admit.
You greet your teeth. You're not in immediate danger, it seems like he wants to chat first before torturing you. First, finding what's happening to your connection to the Force, looks like diplomacy's back on the menu.
You straighten your back and cross your legs under yourself, deep breathing through your nose, eyes closed. Slowly your anger subside, you make peace and quiet inside yourself.
Nothing but peace.
You slowly reopens your eyes.
"I am ready.”
"I wish to exchange information."
"What guarantees will I have?" you serenely ask
"Your life. And if your intel is proven useful, your freedom."
First lies. Two in two sentences, not bad but you've seen better.
"I do not believe you." You announce clearly.
"I am a man of honor. I give you my word."
"What credit can I give to a man who hides his face ?"
He remains silent for a moment.
You see the shadow rise and approach. Slowly his face is revealed.
Your heart skips a beat.
You both look eyes in the eyes.
"Hello, Ch'acah." He smiles faintly.
Your heart flutters at the pet name.
You heard him once! With a fateful kiss to seal it.
But at the same time your heart is stabbed by the implications.
"Thrawn…" You let out in one breath.
He nods, the weird lizard on his shoulders yipps again.
"It has been a long time." He ceremoniously says.
Not long enough to forget him. Those sentiments you vowed to forget coming back full force. This mission you helped General Skywalker to find Senatrice Amidala…
Peace and quiet !
Peace and quiet…
For now you have only one question.
"Why?"
"To protect my people." He lets out. "As I always did and will always do."
"How could you?" Your lower lips quivers
"I did not intend things like this. When I came back the Empire was already in place, and it was a more effective ally than the Republic ever could."
You open your eyes wide. You can't believe what you're hearing.
"To the point of helping them? All the massacres, the horrors?"
"We are all trying at our scale" He tries "We are protecting civilians from greater threats, some have never heard the scream of a TIE over their head or see their sky darken under an ISD. This is for this peace that we are fighting for, for security and order.”
“For control and martial laws! The people were muffled and wrists shackled! Do you hear yourself!? This is tyranny!”
“This is a society under control.” He argues back. “What was so great about the corruption of your Republic? Tell me, what was so intrinsically good about your worlds left to rot while the jedis and the senators looked the other way?” He did not raise his voice but the tone was harsh, sharp.
“You could never understand. You never tasted this liberty.” You turn your body from him, hiding your head behind your hair.
It hurts.
Coming from him it hurts.
You always knew there was something wrong with the Jedi Council, that it was susceptible to pressure despite its will to remain impartial. But you tried, you all did, with the help of the Force you tried your best to help everyone.
But his treason hurts even more and you can’t forgive him.
“You never knew what we lost that day. And you never will…” You say more to yourself than him.
“I may not know that…” He tries considerably softer “But I know I want peace and tranquility for the galaxy, for everyone. And I do think the Empire is the key to that problem, if you would just listen to me…”
From the corner of your eyes you see him extending his hand toward you.
“Do not touch me!” You order.
He stops mid-movement.
“I forbid you from touching me…”
His hand fell to his side. He sighs and stands up.
“You are tired and wounded.” he calmly said “Rest a bit. I will come back to speak later.”
You scoff at him and turn your head to the wall, refusing to look at him. He puts his weird pet in a cage out of your grasp and leaves silently after looking back one last time.
You lay done, biting your lower lips to prevent your tears from rolling.
Peace and quiet…
Peace and quiet…
Peace and quiet…
Peace and…
But some days it is so hard to be strong…
_______________________________________________________
You tug on your chains trying to reach that cage. You’re sure of yourself now, by some devilry this is this weird lizard that severed your connection to the force.
If only you could reach it…
You tug even more, all claws out, baring your teeth. Come on!
You hear footsteps on the other side of the corridor.
You jump on the bunk, facing the wall. You don’t want to see him.
You don’t want to face him.
In fact you want nothing to do with him.
Some night you fantasize about his death.
This traitor…
This backstabber…
This monster…
“I have brought you your dinner.” He politely announces.
He always does. It is way below him as a Grand Admiral but he makes it a point of honor to bring you your tray himself. He always announces himself, leaves the tray on the ground; feed the lizard and excuses himself.
He didn’t try to speak with you, to touch you, or to force his presence on you.
A good thing because you would not take it well, not at all…
Without your lightsaber and the Force you remain a warrior and he would get a taste of your competences if he ever dared approach you.
But today is different.
Today you need him close.
You deeply inhale through your nose and slowly raise to sit on the bunk, one hand casually behind your back.
“Give it to me…” You demand with lingering anger and resignation in the voice.
He looks at you with surprise for a demi-second before putting his stoic mask back.
Did you finally accept your condition? Were you finally ready to speak with him? Did you forgive him? All those questions flashed in his shiny red eyes in an instant and disappeared just as quickly.
He approaches with the fuming tray, unaware of what’s gonna happen.
Perfect.
Closer…
“I remember you liked today’s dish” he casually says
Closer...
When he puts the tray on the bed next to you, you throw your hand…
He blocks just in time.
Your makeshift weapon slashed him across the jaw but didn’t penetrate his skull as you planned.
You're blocked in a momentum where you force on your hand to stab him and he holds back your arm in his fist. Nothing comes to tilt the balance.
“I knew you would try something.” He simply says as blood run from his cut all across his cheek “But carving a blade out of your toothbrush handle is quite ingenuous”
“I’m full of ressources, remember?” you slyly retort.
“I do. And as an homage to your talents I will forgive you this time.” He starts wringing your arm, forcing you to let go of your weapon with a wince. “But this time only.” He murmurs coldly.
“Then you can sit on your intel.”
He picks the blade and releases your arm, blood starting to stain his pristine white uniform.
“I am a patient man, I can wait until you are desperate.”
“I am a jedi, I don’t know despair.” You massage your arm.
“We will see that after several days without food.”
He picks up the tray and exits your cell.
It is not a problem for you with the Jedi hibernation technique, but you will need to think of another plan…
____________________________________________________________
You bite your lower lips hard.
You slash it and bury your teeth into the soft flesh until you draw blood.
It hurts like hell.
You smudge the blood all across your mouth and cheeks and pour some on the floor, you bite into your inner cheek until blood fills your mouth.
Then you lay there, in the middle of the cell, in a pool of blood.
And wait.
You hear footsteps.
It's him
You close your eyes and let him approach.
“Ch’acah?!” You hear in a slightly higher tone than you’re used to.
But he regains his cool instantly and instead of panicking approaches you slowly and calmly, checking for your vitals.
You wait for him to lean over you and when he’s close enough you rise like a devil and circle his throat with your chain.
You tug as hard as you can.
Taken by surprise he opens his eyes wide, gasping for air, pulling on the chains, so you tug even more. In the confusion you lose your balance and end up straddling him on the ground as you strangle him. You feel an acidic pool in your stomach…
He fights back. Hard. But you maintain your position, squeezing tighter and tighter…
You look him in the eye as you try to kill him, you see surprise then focus in his gaze as he tries to unfast the chains. He grasps the chains, tries to throw you off of him or make you lose your grip.
But you hold on.
After 30 seconds his face turns purple and he extends his hand toward you. You’re ready to receive a punch and close your eyes, waiting for the impact but instead feel an incredibly soft caress on your cheek. You reopen your eyes in surprise to see he almost stopped moving, looking at in his final moment with only adoration in his eyes.
In his final moments he stops fighting and chooses to love you one last time…
That’s when you break…
“I can’t…”
You let down the chains, breaking sobbing. He immediately tugged them away from his throat and took an enormous breath, coughing.
“I can’t… I can’t…” You hold your face in your hands, fully crying. “I can’t kill you… I’m not strong enough…”
He massages his throat, taking deep breaths. He looks at you under half closed eyelids
“I hate you. You crystallize this damn Empire and all the things I fight against…” You hiccup “But I love you so much… You’re the last thing I have from that era…” You hug yourself, abandoning yourself to your sentiments, against all you believe in.
You suddenly feel arms around you, hugging you in a warm embrace. Silently, Thrawn caresses your hair and grazes your back. Shocked and against your better judgment you snuggle against his chest, shaked by spasms.
“We will find a way.” He says in a croaky voice. “Things do not have to be that way, we can find solutions. Look at me…” He takes your chin between his fingers to tilt your head. “Together, we will find a way…” he murmurs
You look into his burning gaze, you find an unflinching will and unbreakable resolution, but you don’t fool yourself, this is not something you can just gloss over and forget. The chasm is too big, too deep even for Thrawn and his utopian hopes… but again, Thrawn is known to always beat the odds.
Slowly, unconsciously your eyes lower down to his lips. He’s still panting after your attack and his lips are a bit swollen, but so tempting. You lick your lips remembering your kiss, the only one you ever had, the only one you shared in a solemn moment before he left for his home and you had to get back to Anakin and the Senator Amidala. He seems to pick up on your thoughts because he leans forwards until you can feel his breath on your lips but stops to let you decide.
You close your eyes and meet him. The kiss is soft, as you remembered, hesitant but tender. You slowly part, reopening your eyes to look into his glowing orbs again.
“Is it a good idea…?” You ask, unsure.
“I do not know. But that might be our only chance to build something…” He answers ceremoniously.
You take his head in your hand and kiss him again, your tongues meeting and dancing with each other. He holds the back of your head and squeezes you in his arms. You press yourself against him, laying on the ground with him. His hands slide across all your body, caressing your flanks and grasping your hips. You kiss his jaw and lick your way to his neck as he unbuckles your belt. You bite into the soft flesh and earn a groan on his part. He pull you on his laps to straddle him and starts opening your combination as you slide your hands under his jacket and top to feel his warm skin and chiseled abs. You feel a bulge against your cunny and moan, grinding into it. A warm pool starts to form deep into your core. Kissing your shoulder Thrawn pulls your prisoner combination off your shoulder and passes his hands under your top to grope your bosoms. He kneads and palps them, flicking your nipples with his thumbs, you mewl to encourage him. He helps you take off your t-shirt and open your pants, leaving you in your panties. You wave your body against his groin and moan, exciting him through the fabric. He holds your hips as you grind, eyes closed, he appreciates the sensations. You feel the bulge get warmer and bigger. When he has enough he starts opening his pants and you help him free his erection and you’re about to jump onto it when he stops you.
“No, let me explore you first.”
You feel your inner walls clench at his demand. His hand grazes your pubic mound to slide under you and teases your clit with his thumb while he gently inserts his knuckles into you. He pushes two fingers inside and searches for your g spot, caressing your cunt delicately. When he finds the gummy spot he grazes it vigorously as he circles your clit, building your excitement, you get wetter by the seconds. When you drip onto his hand he invites you to dry hump against his cock, coating it with your slick. You mewl as you rub yourself against his hard member, appreciating all the veins and ridges, you call his name without any shame.
“Ride me.” He says in a deep breath.
You nod desperately, raising your hips to nudge your entrance with his tip and slowly sink onto it, pushing your inner walls as you get so deliciously full of him. God he’s so big you see a bulge. With his hands on your hips you start riding him with delight, your flesh meeting in obscene wet noises. You put your hands on his chest for support and quicken your pace. You ride for two minutes before losing your forces, he then starts to rock and rut into you to guide him to completion. With his powerful thrusts you reach your peak without difficulty and come on his cock with a silent cry. He continues to push three or four times before cumming inside your cunny.
Panting, you lay on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat.
“You know this is not sustainable…” You say after a moment of silence.
“I know, but for now there is only the two of us and I want to treasure this moment.” He replies, kissing your forehead, embracing you tightly.
Maker knows what would become of you both, but for now you close your eyes feeling secure in his arms.
@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay
#thrawn#grand admiral thrawn#mitth’raw’nuruodo#thrawn x reader#thrawn x you#thrawn x f!reader#thrawn smut#fanfic#vibratingskull
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something Borrowed (Part Nine)
M Gargoyle x M Reader
PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT
Wordcount: 4177
Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup
Obligatory angst chapter :’)
You haven't gotten out of bed all day.
You can hear the sounds of the workers you hired repairing the shop beneath you, so it’s not like it’s possible to continue to sleep through it. And yet, you just can’t seem to motivate yourself to get up and function today.
You know you'll have to get up and talk to them when the work day is over, and at least lock up behind them. But the last time you left the comfort of your blanket nest was to let them in first thing in the morning, and you don't feel inclined to leave it again until it's absolutely necessary.
You can’t even throw yourself into your work to get your mind off your love life being in shambles, not with your shop like this. The repairs will take at least a couple days, so you’ve had to refund a few wedding cakes you’ve had going out already. You’ll be able to eat the cost, sure, but it’s not exactly great for business.
While all of those things are troubling, none of that really is what’s bothering you.
It’s knowing that you’ve just cut off the most perfect man you don’t even think you could’ve dreamt up if you tried.
And the worst thing about it is… You’ve done it to yourself.
It's not like Carlyle hasn't been trying to contact you since you've been awake- starting with the usual morning texts he sends you while on his train commute.
> Good morning
> I know you said we shouldn’t see each other anymore, before you ordered everyone out of your shop last night
> But I care about you too much to not even follow up
> Emotions were high
> So I thought it might be for the best to try to open a line of communication, now that things are more calm and its easier to think more clearly
> And maybe we can talk it out
Then, more around lunchtime;
> I feel like I'm crossing a boundary pushing like this
> But I’m worried about you
> I’m not asking you to change your mind
> I only want to be completely sure you’re okay
You manage to ignore those too, but it’s much more difficult. You start chewing on your lip, forming a raw spot on the soft interior.
The guilt is gut-wrenching. But you know if you answer even a single one of his texts, your willpower will crumble. It’s for both of your sakes that you don’t respond right now. Surely, he’ll eventually lose interest…
Carlyle is handsome. He’s smart. And he’s charming. You’re sure he’ll go off and find a nice man or woman that isn’t cursed to brutally ruin the relationship from the start, no problem. He doesn’t need to waste his time with someone as unfixable as you.
But the very thought of him with someone else, though imaginary, still makes you sick to your stomach, so you force it out of your mind.
A few episodes of your program later, you get one last string of messages.
> I’m going to call you when I get off work
> If you don’t want to answer, that’s okay
> That will be my last attempt, because I want to respect your feelings here
At 5pm sharp, the telltale noise of your device going off blares from next to you in bed. The lit-up caller ID clearly says ‘Carlyle’ in your darkened room.
You simply stare at it for a few moments. You want nothing more than to pick up the call, every muscle in your body screaming for you to move and answer him, to hear his voice and ask him to come over and just forget everything that happened yesterday. You could forget everything about the curse and how even being around him is a danger to his continued wellbeing and just be happy.
But instead, you shove your device under your pillow and smash it down, like you’re trying to smother the non-existent breath out of the inanimate machine. It doesn’t fully drown out the sound of your ringtone and the vibration, but you hold it there until it finally stops going off.
You want to scream, but you don’t even have the energy left anymore. You simply sink back down into your bed, covering your head with your duvet and quietly sobbing.
You eventually have to pull yourself together, to see the workers repairing the shop out for the evening and locking up behind them. You’re sure you look horrible, but you can’t be bothered to care much. You just silently hope behind your forced smile that they didn’t hear you crying your eyes out.
When your device goes off in a series of buzzes again when you come back upstairs, you can’t resist almost diving onto the bed to look at it. Luckily you didn’t think to just silence it in your sadness before.
To your relief and disappointment, though, it’s not Carlyle this time.
> Hey. so.
> Just FYI
> I do have the legal clearance to come break into your shop if I have cause for worry
> and you are causing me to worry
> Get ready for a welfare check :)
You’ve been ignoring their texts checking in on you all day, so you suppose you’ve brought this on yourself. You find yourself smiling a small, fragile smile for the first time all day.
< okay but please don’t break the door in
< enough things are broken around here
You barely have the motivation to drag yourself over, even when you hear the pounding on the door. You finally manage to, if only because you have no doubt Kirby was serious about breaking in. As expected, Kirby’s standing there on the landing of the back stairs, unwieldy with a huge takeout bag in one hand and an overstuffed bag from the corner store in the other.
You must look even worse than you thought, because their cheerful expression morphs into one of concern and undisguised pity almost immediately as you open the door.
“Oh. Honey.”
Kirby embraces you with genuine care, despite the awkwardness of them not putting the bags down first.
“I’m like- soooo sorry.” They squeeze you surprisingly hard around the middle, but it’s not unwelcome. “I was supposed to fix this and- and all I can do is sit around and watch it get worse!!”
You struggle to not start bawling again from the comfort.
“It’s not your fault,” You say weakly. “You’re doing your best.”
“Yeah, well, here~!” Kirby pulls back, motioning with the bags in their hands. “If I’m suddenly useless at cursebreaking, the least I can do is be present, hehe!! So!! I brought takeout and treats and we’re gonna have a chat!”
You peek into the bags they’re holding open- a copious amount of takeout from your favorite place, your favorite flavor of ice cream from the corner store, and various other supplies, including tissues; luckily for you, since you’ve already ran through your own supply of them.
You get situated on the couch, and to your surprise, the words start flowing out of your mouth like a waterfall. You had thought you didn’t want to talk, that you didn’t even want to think about it anymore. But having a supportive presence here that wants to listen is apparently enough to break the dam of feelings you’re trying to keep bottled up.
It’s a weight off your shoulders to talk about how you’re feeling with someone besides the cruel voice in your own head. You haven’t even called Emer about it yet- you were worried about burdening her with your second earth-shattering heartbreak in not even as many years.
And to be honest, it’d be majorly embarrassing to explain this after asking for the kardemummabullar recipe only a couple months ago.
“I just feel like there's no point in even trying to fight it,” You sum up your tirade as you forlornly prod at the food in your to-go container. “If magic's made me unlovable, maybe I'm just unloveable.”
“Stooop.” Kirby, who has been otherwise attentively listening and only offering words of support as you spoke, finally refutes something. “Nope! No, no, nope- not even a little! You're PLENTY loveable!! Just because we're stumped right now- it doesn't mean there's not a solution!
“If you put it like that…” You sigh, but find yourself smiling. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”
“Hahah, yeah you will! Soon this'll be all nicely solved and tied up with a pretty bow and we'll look back on how silly it was to be so down. You. Just. Wait.”
Kirby stays until late into the night, and after the first explosion of extended venting about the situation with Carlyle and your feelings about the curse, you don't find yourself mentioning it again. Instead you fall into a comfortable time chatting about nothing and watching the most brain dead programming you can find, over the takeout and snacks Kirby brought. It almost feels like a normal, pleasant evening in with a friend.
It’s a welcome distraction, and you’re thankful for them being here for you. You just wish that the darkness didn’t start to creep back in as soon as they’ve left and you've crawled back into your empty bed…
The next few days are much the same.
Miserable.
Unable to work through your feelings by working with your hands, like you usually would; being cooped up in your room alone, trying to fill the hole in your heart with sweets and distract yourself with mindless entertainment (and failing) like this - it reminds you so much of right after Trevor left.
You’re an absolute mess. Drowning in that exact same nagging, raw sense of emptiness…
…Who are you kidding?
This is absolutely worse.
Maybe it’s the same kind of agony, sure, but this is so much more vicious.
You thought after how things with Trevor ended, you'd never experience anything like that sort of heartbreak again. You never thought you’d have the capability to miss someone this much.
You were so wrong.
You can barely keep yourself from looking at your screen. Everything you try to distract yourself with, from the recipes you’re scrolling through on your device, to the well-groomed lead in the movie you’re half-tuning out, reminds you of Carlyle. You would give just about anything to go back to how things were before your curse started getting in the way.
There is one particularly glaring difference that you can’t help but appreciate, though. This time, you had people in your life that cared enough to check on you- something that simply didn’t happen with Trevor. At some point, all of your friends had become friends that were his first, so it made sense that he kept them in the breakup. But this time, Kirby wouldn’t let you wallow alone, and Carlyle had really tried to get through to you…
It just makes it hurt more.
You fight the urge to sigh as you pipe another pitiful, wonky rosette onto the cake in front of you. You have several orders to catch up on now that the shop is open again; you don’t have time to be making careless mistakes, but your heart just isn’t in your work right now.
Grumbling, you scrape the top layer of icing off the side to start over.
It’s an otherwise normal Saturday in your shop- pops of business here and there, with enough lulls for you to get your icing and decorating in.
It feels good to be back in your shop. Now if only you could do your job properly…
Kirby is over in the corner, and while chatting earlier was the bright spot of your day so far, them being at that table working on your case just reminds you about who would usually be joining them about now…
You’re used to missing people- you did move overseas from your familial home fresh out of school. And yet… You don’t think you’ve missed anyone this bad before.
If you close your eyes and focus, you can almost remember what it feels like to have his firm, comforting arms around you, or his solid hands skimming lightly on your skin, or his hungry lips against yours…
“Uh… Hey. Are you… okay?”
You snap back to attention to the familiar voice, realizing that in your mental haze, you’ve just been absent-mindedly squeezing a slow, steady stream of icing onto the counter in front of you from the chokehold you have on the piping bag.
“Oh- Um, yeah. Sorry. Hello again, Rosario.” You plaster a smile on your face as best you can. “Can I get you something…?”
“...The same one as before.” She brandishes her credit card at the payment terminal like a viper ready to strike. Or maybe a deer ready to flee? It’s hard to tell. “Please.”
“Oh, don’t worry about paying.” You fetch one of the overly chocolate cupcakes from the case and slide it over on a napkin. “It’s on the house.”
“Huh.” She puts her card back in her wallet, a dubious expression on her face with a single thick eyebrow quirked up. “You sure? Isn’t it bad for business to be constantly giving your product away?”
“It’s fine! Really.” You laugh warmly, waving your hand. “I’ve got a certain amount budgeted for giving away freebies. And I think you’re swell. So- Enjoy.”
And even if you can’t see Carlyle, you can at least be nice to his friend.
“...Thanks.” A flash of a smile shines through her typically sour demeanor. But it looks… almost guilty, the way her eyebrows furrow for a split second.
To your surprise, she leaves the counter and instead of going on her way… approaches Kirby? Who immediately greets her and pulls out a chair at the table before motioning to the papers in front of them.
Now you are intrigued. You’ll have to swing by their table when you find time to take a break from the work you have piled up.
It takes a while to carve out the time with your current failing job performance, but you do finally find the time to take a break and go over to their table.
Though, as you get within earshot, it takes all you have in you to not drop the drinks in your hands on the floor.
“-fact of the matter is it can’t be a geas unless there’s a mandate, either physical or verbal. That’s-”
You’re gutted. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Oh heeeeey~” Kirby grins up at you, leaning their chin on their palm as their other hand reaches over and (unsuccessfully) surreptitiously casts a silence bubble over Rosario’s device, if the reflective flash of cyan in their irises and the sudden silence of from the speaker is any indication. “You here to sit with us for a bit?”
You know Kirby well enough now you’d probably pick up on the slight stress in their voice.
“Yeah,” You manage, your mouth suddenly dry. You choose to not even address what you just heard. What’s there even left to say about it? “It’s been a while so I thought you could use something to drink…”
Impressively, Rosario has a poker face of steel, judging by the absolute lack of break in her composure. She simply pulls out the chair next to her.
You try to be present in the conversation, but the vibe is fatally off now. You find yourself zoning out, eyes fixed on the too-white grout around the replaced tiles on the floor until you get back to work.
A few hours later, you’re cleaning up in anticipation of closing time, stewing in your own negative headspace. You do tune back in long enough to see Rosario wave goodbye, which you at least have the presence of mind to reciprocate.
Kirby checks in on you before they leave. You pretend that you’re not affected by hearing Carlyle’s voice earlier, and Kirby seems to decide to not push you to talk about it, but does their best to cheer you up before they leave for the night regardless.
The next day is more of the same, with Rosario now acting as a surrogate Carlyle as far as working on your case goes, or so it appears. Kirby is more diligent this time to conceal the sound from the speaker if they see you coming.
Soon, it’s been an entire week, then another day. You wish it was getting easier.
It’s any other Tuesday, but there’s the nagging reminder that it’s the weekly order from the ladies at Carlyle’s law office tonight. Last Tuesday the shop was closed, so it had slipped your mind. But now, here you are again, but instead of the usual happy anticipation of your usual weeknight visit, you’ve only got a knot in your stomach.
How is this even going to go? Is he still going to order? Will he show up?
What would you even say to him…?
You’d be lying to yourself if you deny that you’d be overjoyed to see him walk through the door of your shop again, no matter how awkward it’d be.
But the hours go by, with no order coming through under his name, or resembling the normal order he picks up. It’s well into evening, and you’re starting to accept that you didn’t need to worry about it in the first place.
And then, the jingle of the POS system. You glance, not expecting much- just to see his name pops up on the order screen. It’s perhaps the most beautiful arrangement of letters you’ve ever seen. You hurry to get the order together perfectly, despite the ample time you have to prepare it.
You only torture yourself more from the time the order appears until the minutes are ticking down to the scheduled pick up time.
It’s almost close on a Tuesday night, after all. There's nothing else to do but wait.
And wait you do, an exhilarating and sickening mix of apprehension and expectation building inside you.
Finally, the pick up time approaches.
The door bell jingles…
You turn to look.
And in walks…
A delivery driver.
They’re pleasant enough as they say Carlyle’s name to confirm the order. You’re pleasant enough back, despite there being a massive faultline breaking your heart in two.
You wait for the delivery driver to leave with the box, then you flop down on the stool behind the counter, shoulders slumping and spirit absolutely broken.
Of course he’d do that. It’s the most logical course of action. Of course he’s not going to come in. You clearly told him to stay away.
Is… that it? It’s done? Just like that?
It’s over?
You had hoped, against your better judgment, that he would turn up and you could smooth things over.
You’re so tired of this.
You fold your arms and set your head down on them against the surface. You don’t want to cry again, but you can feel the sting of tears on the rim of your eyelids.
It’s too much, it’s not enough. He should’ve showed, He’s right to have not. You wish more than anything you could see him again, you wish you had simply never met.
If it’s for the best, why does it hurt so badly?
It’s just not fair.
As you’re sitting there, wallowing in sorrow, you feel something brush against your elbow, then along your forearm. You barely have the energy to care, but curious, lift your head just slightly to see what’s touching you- probably a loose napkin that got stuck to your arm or some other bit of detritus.
But there’s nothing there.
You’re left sitting there, equal parts confused and creeped out.
Whatever Rosario failed to exorcize is still here indeed, it seems.
Maybe even a particularly stubborn wayward spirit for company is better than being alone. The thought gives you a bit of comfort, and the chill in your spine slowly dissipates.
You’ve almost convinced yourself to stand and go lock the door for the night. There’s only a few minutes left before you’re closed anyway, and you might as well. It’s not like anyone will show up…
Just as you’re thinking that to yourself, you see a form appear in the window- but after a glimmering, red-hot ember of hope, you recognize the form as someone you absolutely did not expect, nor want, to see.
It’s Trevor. And before you can react or even fully process it, he’s casually walking through the door, then right up to the counter, with something in his hand- it only takes a moment to make out that it’s a heart-shaped box.
You’re struck with terror for a moment, but too dumbstruck to react.
“Hey.” He nods, like this is a normal thing to do.
He carelessly sets the item down on the counter, revealing that it’s indeed a heart-shaped item- a pink, frilly, cutely decorated box of chocolates.
You stare down at the item on your counter.
GET WELL SOON; it reads.
This can’t be happening.
This has to be a joke.
“What the fuck.” Is all you can manage to scoff out quietly, completely done with any cordial pretense.
“Pfft. Wow. That’s how you say hello to someone bringing you chocolates these days?” Trevor says, clearly offended, but brushes it off as humorous with that annoying little huff of a laugh he’s always done. You used to think it was cute. “Dating must not be going well for you then.”
You steeple your hands over your mouth, struggling with all you have to contain yourself. You let out a long, drawn out sigh, centering yourself, and then finally speak in a restrained, measured tone.
“You have 30 seconds to explain yourself before I throw you out into the street.”
“Look- They’re from Dev! But she forgot she had a workshop to teach today so like, she asked me to bring them here- Well. Begged, more like it. And you know. The whole puppy dog eyes thing she does. Like, how can I argue with that? She said your shop exploded or something.” He says, exasperated, before adding in a grumble; “It doesn’t look very exploded to me…”
You simply give him the most dead-eyed look you can muster.
“Just read the note if you don’t believe me.” Trevor points at the “You always make things so difficult.”
You bite your tongue and read the note instead of giving in to the urge to strangle him.
Hey,
They didn’t have a box with “sorry your shop exploded” on it??? This one was the closest. Get well soon, shop!
XOXO Devin & Trevor
You’re much less disgusted by the gesture knowing the chocolates are from her, but a bit of the sick feeling in your stomach remains, being face to face with their deliverer. And of course, you can’t help but notice that both of their names are in Devin’s handwriting.
There’s a pang of guilt in there somewhere, too. Or maybe pity? After all, it wasn’t too long ago that you were in a position similar to Devin’s- planning a wedding basically by yourself, and not even able to get a scrap of help with minor errands without begging.
“There was an accident with a light falling. I had to close up shop for a tick.” You begrudgingly explain, but don’t even know why you’re bothering- it’s not like he ever listened to anything you had to say, anyway, even when you were supposedly the most important person to him. “It’s sweet of her to have thought of me.”
“Yeah, she’s always doing this sort of thing. She’s so kind and selfless- She’s perfect.”
Your molars grit a bit at the statement, but you choose to ignore the slight in favor of continuing to appreciate your friend.
“Tell her I said ‘thank you’- or wait. Actually, nevermind. I’ll just send her a message myself.” You sigh, remembering that your chances of him actually passing the message along is slim to none. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s past close...”
“Cool. See ya.” Trevor nods, seemingly just as relieved as you are that the interaction is over, if the way he scurries out of the shop like some sort of vermin is any indication.
That’s it. You angrily scrub at the counter with the sanitizer. Champagne. Bubble bath. NOW.
After a much more vigorous end to your closing procedures than the stalling you were doing before, you finally walk over to your shop’s front door. You’ve been putting off turning off the light the entire time you’ve been closing down for the night. Somewhere in the back of your mind survived the hope that perhaps Carlyle would show up today, regardless of current circumstances…
You know it’s stupid to wish he’d show up. You’re the one that told him you shouldn’t see each other, after all. This is just how it has to be.
And yet…
You let out a long, withering sigh, and switch the neon sign off, extinguishing its pink glow.
>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI
#exophilia#monster lover#monster romance#monster x human#monster x reader#gargoyle x reader#gargoyle#male x male#mlm#mxm#male monster#male reader#series: something borrowed#oc: carlyle#oc: declan#nine of words
13 notes
·
View notes