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softpascalito · 4 months ago

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I Healing Hands I Marcus Acacius I

Summary: Acacius returns home with an injury—and you try to care for him. But his ideas of healing (and baths) are a little ... different. Especially when you finally have some time to yourselves.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 2.3k Tags: Explicit, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Handjobs, Nipple Play, Dirty Talk, Bathing/Washing, Blood & Injury, Secret Relationship, Mention of Period-Typical Violence, Mention of Period-Typical Slavery, Not historically accurate

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: i can't believe i wrote smut about romans. anyway, i can't wait to see the trailer, enjoy the porn <3

domus - a type of house dulcissima - sweetest anaticula - little duck (affectionate) subligaculum - a type of underwear (i had three years of latin so i absolutely know what i'm doing)

The domus he lives in sits on the edge of Palatine hill, a small house that feels more welcoming to you than any palace could. The atrium is decorated with a variety of plants, the green colors peaking through the columns that line the sides of the open space. You’ve come to know the details of this place well, from the feel of the stones below your feet to the artistically created, coffered ceilings.

As you let your gaze wander over the sunlit atrium, you find yourself looking at the small statue that sits in the middle of a small fountain, both almost hidden by the plants around them. The water below reflects the merciless sun above and sends small reflections of light dancing across the open space. The form of Apollo stands still, frozen in a heroic movement with one arm raised and his head held high.

The god of music, of truth, and most importantly, of healing. You always think your presence in this house must please him, because since being here, you have felt more healing than you have known before.

You hear Acacius before you see him, his breath coming in a little shorter than you’d like. His footsteps sound through the atrium and you catch glimpses of him as he passes behind the columns on the other side. Even from a distance, the way he’s holding himself tells you he’s hurt, not to mention the dirt on him and his armor. The golden details usually shine in the sun—now they look almost ancient, covered in grime.

You sent a silent prayer to Apollo, your eyes briefly flying back to the statue. When you turn back towards Acacius, he has rounded the corner, making his way over to you, though much slower than he usually would. A small sigh leaves his lips as his eyes land on you and you can see his body deflate visibly.

“Acacius.”

You’re by his side in an instant, attempting to let him prop himself up on you, to use your body to support his. Instead, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own arms around him, a hand finding his hair and attempting to brush through it—only to find it matted with blood. He must feel you tense next to him, a sharp breath escaping you as your fingers feel over his scalp, trying to locate the wound.

“Not mine,” he mumbles under his breath. He pauses for a short moment. “I promised I would come back.”

“You always do and yet I dread the day you will break that promise,” you say, a sad smile playing around your lips. You pull back enough to look at him, taking in the small cuts on his face and the deep lines between his brows that you want to smooth out until he looks as peaceful as he does in his sleep.

He does not protest when you try to take some of his weight on you, silently wishing you could take his worries too, and lead him away from the atrium and towards the small bath that is off to the side. You maneuver him through the small archway that is framed by beige columns on either side and into the middle of the room, the scent of the bath salts filling your nostrils as soon as you take a deep breath.

Acacius lifts his right arm—and immediately screws his face up in pain. You send a stern glance his way. “Let me do that.”

You nudge his arm to the side just enough to reach the leather strings that hold his armor together, slowly working your way through them until you can easily slide the dark leather off him, shaking your head weakly when you see how caked with blood and dirt it is. When you’ve placed the armor on one of the stone benches that line the wall, you move on to his braces and his shoes—and finally, the undercloth, taking it off just as carefully and leaving him in just his underwear.

And then, you suddenly see the reason he’s holding himself the way he is.

A nasty cut marks his right side, just below the ribs. You swallow hard, reaching out and tracing the dried blood around it with a motion that comes naturally. You feel Acacius shift under your fingers, bringing his own hands towards yours and wrapping them around it. They fit perfectly, his grip strong despite his injury.

Your gaze is drawn back to his face by the movement and he smiles weakly. “It looks much worse than it is, dulcissima.”

He’s not wrong. He’s definitely had worse injuries, including the time he barely made it to the atrium, instead collapsing into your arms just behind the entrance to the domus. But, quite frankly, it doesn’t mean you don’t worry.

“It stopped bleeding halfway here,” Acacius adds, correctly interpreting your silence.

“Why didn’t you clean yourself at the baths? They would’ve tended to your wound.” You search his face as you speak.

“I wanted to be with you.”

You sigh disapprovingly at his response, though you can’t deny you like to have him close too, especially when he’s injured. Which, with him, feels like it’s every other day.

He leans down to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, mumbling. “It really does not hurt all that much anymore.” His arm sneaks back around you, though his hand is now wandering much lower than it did before.

You bite your lip, trying to give him another stern look but you can feel the way you begin to falter as he smoothes circles into the fabric of your tunic. “Acacius, your servants—”

“They are busy,” he assures you, dragging his lips over your cheek and towards your earlobe. “Besides, if any of them attempted to talk, I’d have their heads.”

You listen into the silence that follows, almost determined to catch a pair of feet approaching or a voice in the distance. But the only sounds that reach your ears are those of the small fountain in the atrium and Acacius’s breath against your skin.

“We won’t be disturbed,” he hums and you sigh in defeat, reaching down to undo his subligaculum, the soft fabric falling away to reveal the trail of dark hair that leads down towards his cock. You’re only mildly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Let me clean you first at least,” you mutter, leading him further into the room and towards the small bath embedded in the tiled floor. You sit him down at the edge of it, letting him dangle his legs into the warm water. You reach for a cloth, wet it slightly and get to work. You start with his arms, watching as the dirt and blood starts to come off, revealing the tanned skin underneath.

You hear Acacius sigh above you and you feel his eyes on you, the soft gaze he looks at you with so different from the one he carries on the battlefield. His hands begin wandering again, dipping below the thin fabric of your tunic and you are just reaching down to wet the cloth again when he manhandles you into him, placing you comfortably on his lap.

You tense for a split moment before he catches your lips in a kiss—and then you hear yourself sigh as the protest inside you makes space for a fire that’s rapidly building in your lower abdomen. You can smell him, his sweat mixed with a hint of blood, you can feel the dirt rubbing off on you but you don’t care. You just want him.

His voice is a growl. “Merda, get out of that thing already.”

You obey, crawling off him and slipping the tunic off your body, carelessly letting it fall to the dirty floor. You see Acacius’s eyes raking over your body, taking in every curve like he’s seeing you for the first time rather than the hundreth.

“You are as beautiful as the gods, my dulcissima,” he mumbles, pulling you back onto his lap, one hand securely placed on your back to keep you from falling into the water behind you.

He’s careful not to lean on his bad side as he sneaks his free hand between your bodies, dragging it down ever so slowly until he reaches your mound, his index finger drawing a few circles around your bundle of nerves before moving on, a smile spreading over his lips when he finds wetness waiting for him between your legs.

You feel your breath catch in your throat as he inserts a finger without warning, the size of them always taking you slightly by surprise. His moves are shallow, never quite pulling his finger out completely but always keeping you on that delicious edge. When he adds a second one and starts curling them, he has you whimpering almost immediately.

“Marcus, please—”

“I thought I was Acacius to you. Just to make sure you do not—how did you put it—slip up,” he mumbles, a smirk on his face. The groan you intend to sound annoyed comes out much more desperate than you would like.

“You know we have to be careful—” you try to start, but with his fingers inside you, your brain simply does not work the way it usually does.

“One of these days, I’ll make you my wife,” he mumbles into your ear, his voice so low you can barely hear it. Without taking his eyes off yours, his thumb finds the spot that, combined with his words, almost drives you over the edge. “And you’ll live with me and we can make as many babies as you want.”

It catches you off-guard, but not in an unpleasant way. It’s just a fantasy, one that may very well be unattainable, but you like to let your mind drift there regardless. Judging by the twitch his cock gives against your skin, you’re clearly not the only one who does.

At that thought, you manage to hold off a bit longer and reach for him in return, enjoying the way his breath catches in his throat when your hand wraps around his attention-starved cock. His gaze flies down, to your bodies already so intertwined, touching each other impatiently. And you know he craves it as much as you do—to be even closer, to feel the weight of him nestled inside of you.

“You are so dirty,” he whispers, withdrawing his hand and making you whine at the loss. He wipes at some of the dirt on your thigh, mixing it with your own juices.

“And you seem to rather enjoy that,” you mumble back, squeezing him slightly. An affirmative chuckles leaves his throat before he lifts you up and lowers you into the small bath in front of him, the warm water immediately soothing your body.

He follows a moment later, stepping into the blue mass. A few petals swirl around on the surface, stirred by your movements in the water as he pulls you close again, his body seemingly all around you as he wraps you in his arms. Then he lowers his head, trailing kisses over your collarbone and down your skin until he reaches your chest, grazing his teeth over your hardened nipple.

“Marcus—” you whine, impatiently pressing your body into his, attempting to get any friction, a task made even harder by the water around you. “I want you inside, please.”

“Always so polite, Anaticula,” he mumbles into your skin but he does satisfy himself with one more nip at your skin before pulling back. “Is that what you want?”

You nod impatiently and feel him lining himself up below you, gently directing you towards the far edge of the bath, where he immediately braces himself against the wall for support with you in his arms—and just a moment later, you can feel him sink into you.

Your bodies mold together, his cock making you feel so deliciously full and complete. You can hear him grunt as he begins to thrust into you gently, his hands on your hips as he guides you onto him again and again, making you moan into his neck as you cling on, half a mind not to touch his injury.

Acacius groans your name, his movements speeding up slightly. “Come on, I want to see your pretty face, dulcissima.” You pull back enough to see him and press your forehead against his. Your thumb comes up to wipe a spot of dirt off his face and brush over his beard, the hairs of it more gray than dark, like they were when you first met, and for a few moments, you both just stare at each other as the water around you ripples with your movements.

“Let go for me.” It's just a whisper—and one you don’t think you could ignore if you tried. You feel the wave wash over you, your vision going weak as you fall apart—knowing that Acacius will hold you close until you’re put together again. You barely notice that he follows suit, spilling himself inside of you with whispered promises of all the things you’ll have one day.

You stay intertwined in the water like that for a while. Eventually, you begin to gather some in your hand and let it run down Acacius’s scalp, beginning to wash the dried blood out of the gray-streaked hair.

“You are going to let me put a proper bandage on your cut once we get out,” you state, earning a loyal nod from him. His eyes are searching yours again, carrying the soft look you know is reserved for you.

“I did come back,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I know.”

You kiss him softly and he kisses you back just as softly as you curl into him, inhaling his scent and pulling him close and ever closer, determined to let noone take you from him.

thank you for reading! feel free to follow my socials or leave a comment if you want more of slutty roman men <3

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months ago

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Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc au #danyal al ghul au #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc fanfic #i was hit with this idea two hours ago and was hit with the intrinsic need to write it down #parental vlad masters #protective vlad masters #vlad is currently going 'OH? OH YOU ABANDON AND REPLACE **MY** SON??? MURDER. DEATH. BEES UPON YOUR FAMILY'#but he's also still like. evil. much less of a creep! but evil. so he comes off a bit possessive. which was intentional.#vlad's reaction is kinda valid if it was accurate and bruce DID willingly and knowingly abandon danny. except he didn't. he has no idea #danny is even alive. vlad doesn't know that tho. we all love a good reasonable misunderstanding :]#hc that vlad needs a cane as a human because the ecto-acne that killed him fucked his nerves up a bit as a result and now he's got a bad le #and is also immunocompromised. which had a slight hand in his 20 year isolation thing.#stillborn? no still born au #stillborn danny au #stillborn danny #vlad masters #this may or may not be canon to the au im still thinking about it #vlad acknowledges that danny is formiddable but he's also not wrong that a media shitstorm like that would hurt him considerably.#diamonds are the toughest known material to man and yet it still shatters like glass when put under pressure. vlad's right he's fragile #ummm anyways yeah Vlad finds out first and promptly decides to go 'oh okay so fuck you personally actually. keep your replacement child'#he has No Plans on telling Danny what he learned mostly for the obvious selfish reasons and also bc yeah. this is gonna hurt danny #ITS NOT FUN IF IT ISNT A LITTLE TOXIIIIC #i absolutely know that vlad only swears in deserts which is why its important that i have him call bruce wayne a bastard directly.

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alessandra-14 · 3 months ago

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Quiet sister, concerned brothers

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Summery: Dean and Sam Winchester have a 15 year old half sister who often feels neglected and overlooked by her brothers. Her sadness and loneliness build up until she can no longer hide her feelings.

Trigger warning: way to much use of Y/N, emotional neglect

Word count: 1.5k words

A/N: I used a different perspective this time. Please please let me know which one you prefer so I know what to continue with! Thanks.

The creaky old bunker was silent, a rare occurrence given the nature of it's inhabitants. Y/N sat on her bed, the flickering light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, feeling the weight of another day spend in the background.

Sam and Dean, her older brothers, had been on a hunt all day. She texted them but unsurprisingly received no answer from any of them. They returned the next day around noon with stories about demons and near-death experiences, hardly acknowledging her presence as they recounted their tiring adventures.

Y/N was used to this. As long as she can remember, she had been the quiet, shy girl who stayed in the shadows while her brothers were always the center of attention.

She loved them dearly, of course she did. They have raised her, they gave her a family. Something she never new before them. But the constant feeling of being forgotten gnawed at her heart. She knew they didn't mean to emotionally neglect her, it was just how things were. Sam and Dean are hunters and she is just…. there

….

A week later they were on the road again, driving to a small town in Nebraska where strange disappearances had been reported. Y/N joined them this time. She felt as if she is going to suffocate if she stayed in that bunker for any longer.

She sat in the back of the Impala with her head resting against the cold window. The low rumble of the engine was almost comforting, a familiar sound in her otherwise tumultuous life.

Dean glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a frown creasing his forehead. "You okay back there kid?"

Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sam turned around in his seat, giving her a concerned look. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet lately. More than usual. You barely talk to us." "Yeah I'm fine, just tired", she lied, hoping they would drop the subject. She didn't want to burden them with her feelings. They had enough to worry about.

Dean just shrugged and turned up the music, and Sam went back to his research. Both of them just believing her lie for now. None of them had the energy to deal with it at the moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to push away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.

The hunt went relatively well. Sure it could have gone way better but it's not the worst one they've had so far. Turns out the disappearances were caused by a little groupe of vampires. Fortunately for them it was easy to track them down to an abandoned warehouse. The killing part was a bit more tricky though.

Y/N helped out a lot this time. She was quite proud of herself for that. Thought that Sam and Dean would be impressed but did they even acknowledge her hard work? absolutely not.

"You did good kid but you could definitely improve your skills with the machete and you also need to work more on your stamina you are way to slow." Those are the first words she hear from Dean as they walk back to the car. Of course it hurts. She tried so hard to make them acknowledge her skills but apparently all they see is her weakness or simply nothing at all.

Sam doesn't confirm Dean's criticism but he also doesn't defend his sister in any way. The walk back to the car is just silent and tense. A feeling Y/N is simply sick of.

It doesn't get any better in the car so all she does is put her headphones in to listen to music to drown her loud bad thoughts and her brother's voices.

....

The next time they went on a hunt didn't go differently. Y/N was allowed to join again. She even tried to show of her great skills against the witch they had to fight but once again it went mostly unnoticed by the two brothers. The only thing that stuck with them was how slow she moved and how much she apparently hesitated when shooting the witch.

She kept quiet for the whole ride back to the bunker. What was she supposed to say anyway.

Back at the bunker Dean is the first one to break the silence between the siblings. "Hey kiddo remind me to teach you how to use a gun properly. You suck a little at that" He said as he went to grab a beer. His words were meant in a playful way but for Y/N it's enough to set her off completely.

"Can't you just stop with that?!" Sam and Dean both turn to look at her with a confused frown. "Stop with what?" Dean asks bewildered.

"With t-this! I just can't listen to you constantly telling me that I am not good enough. Every time I do something good you find something bad to say. Both of you just completely ignored the fact that I killed the witch on the hunt today all that was important to you was to tell me I suck at shooting! And when you don't criticize everything I do, you just don't talk to me. I simply get ignored. That's not fair!"

Y/N stopped once she ran out of breath but she was not anywhere near done letting everything out

"Y/N what-" Sam immediately gets interrupted by his sister. "No! I'm done. I'm done with hunting. I am done doing anything in my power to make you acknowledge my hard work for nothing and I am done with seeking your validation and attention at all times!"

None of the brothers get a chance to say anything because the second the girl is done she storms off to her room. Not that they knew what to say anyway.

The silence that follows is a tense one. Both brothers are at loss for words. Her speech was something none of them expected to hear. "Should we go check up on her? That was pretty intense"

But Sam shakes his head at Dean's suggestion. "No, we should let her cool off for a bit. I'll check up on her later"

....

Dean can't help but think about every interaction he had with his sister after every hunt and he unfortunately has to admit to himself that what Y/N said was true. The guilt is more than visible on his face it seems as if he is drowning in it. Sam isn't feeling any better. He is trying his best to no stand up and rush into his sisters bedroom and apologize for everything he and his brother said to her to make her feel as if she was not good enough.

He is holding that urge back fairly well but the moment he heard loud crying from her room he decides he is done with waiting and giving her space. He just needs to see if she is alright and fix this.

He walks up towards the door of your bedroom and softly knocks on it. "Hey...do you mind if we talk for a moment? I just want to make sure you're okay" Sam waits for a couple seconds which feels like minutes to him. But he receives no answer from the girl on the other side of the door. So he tries again but yet he gets no answer this time either.

Sam knows her silence is answer enough and turns around to leave. Not even two steps later he hears the door opening and his little sister's sad sniffles. He turns towards her and the mere sight of his sibling standing there with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, was enough to break his heart into many pieces. Especially because he knows he is at fault.

"We can talk if you want" Her voice sounds raspy and her words come out quiet. A big indicator that she has been crying for a long time.

Sam simply nods and follows her into her room. Both sit down on the bed. Y/N looks towards her hands and keeps her gaze fixated on that.

"I wanted to apologize for making you feel as if you are not good enough. That was really not alright. You are great kid. You help us out so much. Doesn't matter if it's with research, or hunting or just helping around the bunker. Dean and I appreciate it. We appreciate you"

Y/N scoffs which slightly takes her older brother by surprise. "Well none of you know how to show that said appreciation"

Sam sighs since he knows she is right. "I know we don't but I really mean it when I say that we do care and do acknowledge your help and hard work. Even when we tell you about the thing you could improve. I also know how harsh Dean's words must have sounded to you and he feels bad. He really does."

The teenaged girl stays silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I forgive you. But I still want to take a little break from hunting. I'll help with research, sure but that's all. It's just too much right now" Sam agrees with you. "Sure that's fine. I understand, kid. And so will Dean"

Y/N looks up from her fidgeting fingers and turns her head towards her brother while wiping her tears. "Thank you Sam"

"Don't thank me, sweetheart. Please" Another silence follows after Sam's words. Yet this time it's not tense or heavy. It's comforting.

#dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #supernatural #the winchester brothers #hurt/comfort #slight angst #x sister!reader #female reader

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aventurineswife · 9 days ago

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Dan Heng with a reader who has an interest for dragons, collecting small, detailed sculptures or legends from different cultures, including media (books, movies, shows) etc. But after the Xianzhou Luofu arc, reader seems to suddenly shut up altogether about dragons, especially around Dan Heng. And distance themselves a little from Dan Heng for a while. Reader is dealing with an internal conflict, on one hand having feelings for him, on the other hand, they want to ask him about Vidyadharas, but dont want to come across as only interested in him because of his draconic features.

So, Dan Heng confronts them and maybe an eventual confession?

(Hope I'm making sense, pls take your time with this one, you dont need to rush it)

What lies Beneath

Summary: After the events of the Xianzhou Luofu arc, you, a passionate collector of dragon lore and mythology, begin to distance yourself from Dan Heng. Wrestling with feelings for him, you're afraid he'll think you only care about him for his draconic features and Vidyadhara heritage. Dan Heng notices the change and, worried about the growing distance, confronts you.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Xianzhou Luofu Arc, Mutual Pining, Confession, Light Angst with a Happy, Dragon Enthusiast!Reader, Internal Conflict, Gentle Romance.

Warnings: Slight angst, Mention of identity struggles, Brief emotional vulnerability.

A/N: I'M SORRY IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG, I MOSTLY HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE LOUFU ARC!! 😭😭

You hadn’t realized how quiet you’d become around Dan Heng—not at first, anyway. But the weight of it sat on your chest like a stone, an invisible divide that hadn’t been there before. The journey to the Xianzhou Luofu had changed everything. Your fascination with dragons and mythical creatures, once an easy passion you shared with him, had now grown complex and tangled. Knowing Dan Heng’s true nature—that he was the Imbibitor Lunae, that he was once something more than he claimed to be—changed it all.

Days passed, and you found yourself drawing back, not out of disinterest but out of fear. You could barely meet his eyes, feeling too aware of every question and curiosity still buzzing in your head, all revolving around dragons and Vidyadhara and…him. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him about any of it, feeling an unwelcome twist in your stomach at the thought. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you only saw him as a curiosity, some myth you could pin down like one of the small, polished figurines you collected.

So, instead, you distanced yourself, let conversations trail off when they veered toward your interests, gave half-hearted smiles when he looked your way. You couldn’t explain why it hurt so much or why the silence between you felt like a wound you couldn’t bring yourself to bandage.

One evening, you slipped into the archives to distract yourself, seeking solace in the worn pages of one of your favorite books on myths. As your fingers traced the lines of an old story about a guardian dragon, you felt a familiar presence at the door.

“Mind if I join you?” Dan Heng’s voice was low, quiet, yet it pierced the air with a clarity that made your pulse quicken. He stepped inside before you could answer, closing the distance between you with his usual, measured calm.

“Dan Heng, I…” You scrambled to shut the book and turned away, but he was already watching you with that piercing, steady gaze.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said gently, his eyes searching yours. “I thought… perhaps it was because of what happened on the Luofu.”

You shook your head, laughing faintly, though it lacked any real humor. “No, no, that’s not it. Or… maybe it is, but not how you think.”

“Then why?” He took a step closer, looking down at you, his gaze unreadable but not cold. “I thought you might understand.”

“I do understand,” you said, swallowing, fighting the lump in your throat. “Or, I’m trying to. But, after everything… I didn’t want you to think that… that I just—” You faltered, clenching your fists as you looked down, frustrated with your own lack of words.

“That you just what?” he asked softly, closing the distance until he was standing only a step away. His voice was gentle but unyielding, patient but unwilling to let this go.

“That I’m only interested in you because of… because of your Vidyadhara heritage,” you finally said, barely a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you by treating you like something out of one of my books, like some… myth I could admire from a distance.”

Dan Heng’s expression softened, a hint of sadness and understanding tracing the edges of his gaze. “Do you really think that’s how I see myself to you?”

You swallowed, struggling to find your voice. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I care about you, Dan Heng. And I didn’t want you to think that what you told me, what you shared, changed anything between us.”

He took another step forward, his fingers reaching out to gently lift your chin so your gaze met his. His touch was warm, his eyes holding an intensity that made your pulse race. “What I am… the part of me that’s Vidyadhara, Imbibitor Lunae—that is part of my past. But it doesn’t define everything I am. Not to you, not to the Astral Express.”

You hesitated, feeling your heart beat faster at his words. “I just… I didn’t want to make you feel like I saw you any differently because of it.”

Dan Heng’s hand lingered, his gaze unwavering. “But if I’m honest, I’ve been hoping you would see me differently. Just not in the way you fear.” His thumb brushed your cheek, and he looked away, almost shyly, as if revealing more than he intended. “Because I… I want to mean something to you beyond all that.”

Your heart raced, the weight of your own unspoken feelings swelling within you. “Dan Heng, I… I didn’t think you—”

He silenced you with a small, almost self-conscious smile. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t felt… conflicted about this, too. But when I’m with you, it feels simple.” His gaze softened, vulnerability shining through the walls he so often held up. “I don’t need you to see me as something mythical or fascinating. I just want you to see… me.”

Something in his words broke through the last of your restraint, and you felt your hand move on its own, reaching up to cup his face. “Dan Heng,” you breathed, smiling softly. “I’ve always seen you. Just… you.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, as though searching for something, his own uncertainty fading into a quiet calm. Then, he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that left you breathless. The kiss was soft, hesitant, as though he feared losing you the moment he dared to let himself feel this.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his hands steadying you as he let out a soft, almost contented sigh. “Then let’s leave the myths in the books, at least for tonight.” he murmured, his voice as gentle as the warmth that surrounded you.

You nodded, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you looked up at him, feeling the weight of everything between you finally fall away. “I think that sounds perfect.”

Damn Dan Heng getting on my ask page a lot 🤭, I hope I didn't butcher his character up!

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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago

Text

Stray {Blurb}

Postwar!Remus Lupin x Muggle!Reader

Summery: After drifting aimlessly and struggling with the aftermath of war, Remus finds an unexpected ally in a compassionate woman who sees beyond his scars. Through her unwavering kindness and the simple life, Remus maybe he deserves the similar things in life.

Wc:3860

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, fem reader, self doubt, mentions of major character death, financial insecurity, drifting, self indulgent.

Remus Lupin never really believed in rock bottom. Everytime he thought he'd hit it he would fall harder and deeper than he ever thought possible.

After the war there was a long period of time he was drifting. Not necessarily liking the idea of staying in one place too long, not that he could if he tried. Most of the highlands were packed with nosey wizards and witches, his paranoia getting the best of him every time someone asked a bit too many questions, and then it was on to the next town.

It didn't help that no one was enthusiastic about hiring him after learning of his special requirements. He couldn't hold down a job let alone a stable place to stay, staying in the rougher bits of London and Scotland, too busy wallowing in grief to truly feel sorry for his situation.

His full moons were the worst of it. Without James, Peter, and Sirius, Moony reverted back to its most volatile form. His mental state didn't help much either. He had grown comfortable, complacent, with the nurture his friends provided him those nights. So much so he forgot what it was like to have battered and bruised skin. What the scars on his body felt like.

Everything was back to his normal.

Well, not everything. This was the first time he's woken up to the sight of a gun barrel in his face. His body throbbing and his leg caught in a snare. If he looked just past the barrel, he could see glimmering eyes. Fear. He was used to that look.

Though, he could argue he should be the fearful one, considering his lack of dress and immobile position. Bleeding and scared, with a women he's never seen before saying something his ringing ears couldn't quite comprehend.

Soon, his blood loss and blurry eyes made him unable to stay awake. The last thing he saw was a large white dog coming up to sniff his face.

~~~

It was soft, everywhere he turned. Like he was being held in a cloud, he was sure she must have shot him.

When his eyes opened he was greeted with a dim room. It was small, a cream off white with floral designs, it looked like his mother’s, truthfully. He tried to shift his leg only to notice a sizable weight, looking down to see a large white cattle dog, he couldn't quite place the breed immediately, but the moment he shifted it seemed to wake up. Staring at him in his very soul.

The large beast gave a low and steady grumble before he gave a few barks, something he didn't quite know how to place. He just sunk back into the soft plush bedding, giving a low sigh. “Bloody hell..” He mumbled and closed his eyes.

He was still in pain, a lot of it, and he could feel the throb of his injuries pulsing through his body. But there was also a strange sense of comfort in the softness of the bed and the warmth of the room. Even the soft smell of Shea butter and thick wool. It had been so long since he had felt anything remotely close to comfort that it almost seemed foreign to him. He almost convinced himself to fall right back asleep, screw the consequences.

The dog continued to bark, and soon after, Remus heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching. His instincts kicked in, and he tried to sit up, but his body protested vehemently. Leaving him to prop pathetically on his elbows.

As the door creaked open, he came to the conclusion that he was most certainly dead. And he guessed the muggles were right about God. Why else in Merlin’s name would an angel be stepping into this room? With a tray of food, no less.

Like that, the barking stopped. The dog satisfied he notified his master in time.

The woman who had been holding the gun stood in the doorway, looking significantly less threatening now. She had a cautious yet gentle expression, her eyes scanning Remus with a mix of curiosity and concern. Retracing his now bandaged chest and bruised skin, clicking her tongue before she walked over. Setting the tray down and picking up two pill bottles from the side of the bed.

"You're awake.” She assessed softly, her voice carrying a lilting accent that Remus recognized to be Scottish. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it through the night.”

Remus tried to respond, but his throat was dry and his voice came out as a weak croak. She poured a glass of water from the tray and handed it to him, with three pills in her palm.

He didn't think twice before he took them, his concern for his life had far since left his mind. He just felt.. safe.

As the cool water soothed his parched throat, Remus couldn't help but wonder who this woman was and why she was helping him. He hadn't known genuine kindness from anyone since he entered the war- everyone was a suspect until proven otherwise. He glanced around the room, taking in the subtle details- the worn but clean furniture, the soft light filtering through the curtains, and the faint smell of herbs mingling with the scent of the shea butter that he could now conclude came from you.

"Thank you.” He managed to say, his voice still weak but sincere. "For... everything."

The woman gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're welcome. My name is {Y/N}." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "You're lucky I found you when I did. The Highlands aren't exactly the safest place for someone to be..” She gestured vaguely. “What were you up to? Naked forest dancing?”

Remus let out a weak, humorless chuckle at your comment. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood. His muscles protested every small movement, but he managed to shift slightly, trying to get more comfortable.

"Something like that. I'm Remus.” He muttered, his voice still hoarse. He didn't dare dream of expressing the full length of his woes; the full moon, the transformation, the uncontrollable rage and pain. It was too much to burden you with, not to mention the rapid fire excuses he'd have to come up with. Still, he still felt horrid for lying, especially to someone as kind as you.

You seemed to sense his reluctance and didn't press further. Instead, you busied herself with adjusting the pillows behind his back, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. "Well, whatever it was, you're safe now.” You muttered gently. "You need rest and time to heal. Those pills should help with the pain and prevent any infection."

Remus nodded, grateful for your understanding. "Thank you, {Y/N}.” He repeated, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the cozy room or the medication. "I don't know how to repay you for this."

You waved off his gratitude with a dismissive huff before walking over to set up the simple bowl of oatmeal and apple slices you had managed in the kitchen.

“Seriously, I don't have much but-”

“Your money's no good here, I fear.” You remarked calmly and turned to face him as you handed him the bowl carefully, wrapped in an oven mitt so he wouldn't burn himself. “But your body is.”

Remus blinked, taken aback by the statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but you quickly clarified, sensing his alarm.

"Not in that way.” You quickly corrected with a soft laugh, the first sign of genuine amusement he'd seen from you. "I meant, it's coming up on winter. Once you get better, if you'd like to repay me, there are holes in the barn that need to be patched. There is wood to be collected, there is always work.”

Relief washed over him, and he nodded slowly, understanding the exchange you were offering. That was something he could do. Easily. "I can do that.” His voice was still weak but filled with sincerity. "I'm more than willing to help out."

You smiled, this time a bit more genuinely. "Good. We'll worry about that when you're back on your feet. For now, just focus on getting better." You placed the bowl of oatmeal and apple slices on his lap. "Eat up, you'll need your strength."

Remus took the bowl, feeling a deep sense of,, peace. It had been so long since anyone had shown him patience and kindness this real. He spooned some of the oatmeal into his mouth, savoring the warmth and simple flavor. It was raw. Something unfiltered and unprocessed. You had made these from scratch, while it wasn't impressive, it made the gesture all the more real to him.

As he ate, you busied yourself around the room, tidying up and making sure everything was in order. The large white dog, now lying by the foot of the bed, watched him with curious eyes.

"What’s his name?" Remus asked, nodding towards the dog.

"That's Hugo.” You hummed, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "He's a good boy. A fine worker, too. Found him as a pup wandering near the woods. Much like you, I suppose."

Remus chuckled softly, though it hurt his chest a bit. "Well, I'm glad he found his way to you. And I'm glad I did too."

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a studying looking in your eyes. "We all need a bit of help sometimes.” You said quietly. "No shame in that."

Remus nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. The care you had shown him was a balm to his weary soul, and he couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just maybe, things could get better from here.

As he finished his meal, he felt a wave of exhaustion washing over him again. The combination of the medication and the warm food was making it difficult to keep his eyes open. You seemed to notice and gently took the empty bowl from his hands.

"You should rest.” You said softly, but stern, placing the bowl back on the tray. "Sleep will help you heal faster."

Remus nodded, unable to argue with common sense. As he settled back into the pillows, he felt the soft weight of Hugo shifting in a commando crawl up to his side, offering him a sense of security and companionship. His heavy head resting on his chest.

"Thank you, {Y/N}, Hugo.” He murmured one last time, his voice trailing off as sleep began to claim him.

You watched as his eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're welcome, Remus," you whispered, turning to leave the room. "Rest well."

As Remus drifted off into a deep, healing sleep, he couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, he had found a place where he could finally stop destroying himself and start rebuilding.

~~~

The days turned into weeks, and Remus slowly but surely regained his strength. Each day, he marveled at the patience and empathy you and Hugo showed him. It was a simple life, far removed from the chaos and pain of his past, but it was exactly what he needed.

You never pried into his past, never asked questions, never pushed past what you needed to know in the moment. You hardly even acknowledged the night he showed up on your property. Instead, you offered gentle conversation, warm meals, and a quiet companionship that Remus found deeply comforting. In return, he began to help around the property as he had promised. Fixing the holes in the barn, chopping wood for the winter, and tending to any task you needed of him.

It was symbiotic. You got the help you needed, and he felt like he was contributing to something meaningful without the threat of being chased away.

As the weeks turned into a month, the next full moon loomed. Even as his irritation grew and his stomach sank with dread, you never said a word. You filled his plate, kept him busy with work on your land, and didn't question him when he took a stroll into the woods on the night of the full moon. Though you were a bit baffled when Hugo went with him.

That morning, you were on the porch waiting for him. You said nothing about his tattered clothes and suitcase, just welcomed him home with a warm smile.

It was more than he ever thought he'd deserve. You reminded him of nectar in the mornings and like fine wine most nights. As sweet as honey but as deep and rich as the most ancient oak, your presence grounded him in ways he hadn't thought possible. Each day with you was a melody, a harmony that soothed the tempest within him. He found himself looking forward to your soft laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with unspoken thoughts, and the gentle touch of your hand as you handed him a steaming cup of tea.

Your kindness wasn't just a balm for his physical wounds; it seeped into the deepest recesses of his heart, mending the fractures that years of pain and loss had wrought. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but somewhere between your shared meals and quiet evenings by the fireplace, he realized he was falling in love with you.

It wasn't a whirlwind or a blaze; it was a slow, steady burn that warmed him from the inside out. He cherished the simplicity of your life together, the unspoken understanding that passed between you, and the way Hugo seemed to understand it all, lying at your feet as if guarding this fragile, precious thing you were building together.

In those quiet moments, when the world outside seemed a distant memory, Remus realized he had found something he never thought possible: a home, a sanctuary, and he didn't dare hope for more.

Even as you sat on the small couch, in the simple living room. Knees tucked to your chest as you continued to fight with yourself.

“Writer's block?” He prodded as he walked over, sitting down in front of you. Your eyes flickered up to his, your expression still holding slight irritation. “You've been looking at that page for ages.”

“I have ideas.” You argued, looking back down at your pages with a huff. “Just not sure.. how to work them together.”

“Isn't that supposed to be the fun part?” He teased softly and that earned a playful glare form you. He flicked his hands up in defense, slowly smirking.

You managed a soft laugh, your irritation melting away under his gentle look. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one staring at a blank page.” You challenged, but there was no real bite to your words.

Remus leaned closer, peering at your notes with genuine curiosity. "Maybe you should write something else. Just for today. Heard it's supposed to help, yeah?”

You sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips. "Alright, Mr. Lupin, what do you suggest I write about?"

“Maybe your affinity for strays?” He teased and that earned a belly laugh from you.

“Do you hear him, Hugo? He just called you a stray.” You smirked and Hugo gave a huff and a long sigh from were he laid on the floor by Remus’s feet.

“I meant the both of us, really.” He muttered, eyes drifting away. But he knew you knew that already. You would do anything to make him think he wasn't burdening you, but self doubt was his biggest flaw.

Your eyes softened that way that made him feel his stomach turn. Then, your lips turned upward, eyes sparking with amusement. “You make it sound like a talent.” You hummed before you leaned in a bit. “But I wouldn't call you a stray, Remus. You're no more a stray then Hugo.”

Remus felt his mouth go dry as he stared down at you, his heart pounding with an intensity that made his ribs feel bruised. The way your eyes seemed to look straight through him, seeing every hidden part of his soul, left him feeling exposed, yet desperate for the intimacy of it all. The air between you crackled with a palpable tension, each second stretching out as his expression turned thoughtful.

He watched as you slowly reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his arm. The contact sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but lean into your touch, his breath hitching.

“I mean it, Remus.” You whispered, your voice barely audible but the loudest thing he's ever heard.

He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he nodded, inching closer. The space between you seemed to shrink and expand all at once, his movements hesitant yet driven by an undeniable force he couldn't fully understand.

“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice raw and almost pleading, his vulnerability never felt more purposeful.

“Yeah.” You affirmed without a moment's hesitation, your grip on his arm tightening as if to anchor him to your reality. A reality he wanted to understand more then anything. Your gentle loving reality, one that fooled him again and again into safeties he didn't think he deserved. “You're home, Remus.”

The words hung in the air, a lifeline he desperately needed. The tension between you reached a breaking point as you tilted your head. Every so slightly, your eyes lingering on his lips.

It wasn't long before his lips were on yours, not giving himself time to second guess it all. It was patient. It was sweet. It was ancient and timeless and yet as new as the flowers that were blooming just outside the door. Winter had come and gone and yet here he was, still demanding more of you. As he moved in closer, you felt the book fall against the ground. Not that you minded, it freed up your hands to slide along his chest.

He continued to test the waters, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss. Affection you reciprocated easily. Just as hungry for it as he was. He couldn't find himself wondering if he should think it through. He didn't have much of a choice, the way your hands traveled up to his hair, the way you shifted your legs to make room for him.

“You're home, Remus.” You whispered again, much softer, in between the ever heating kisses. He pushed you fully on your back, his lips traveling the bare skin of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, each kiss igniting a fire that spread through your veins. The words you had spoken echoed in his mind, grounding him in the moment, making everything feel more real and more impossible to resist. He whispered your name, a reverent prayer, as his hands explored the contours of your body, committing every inch to memory.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if afraid he might disappear if you let go. The urgency of your kisses matched his own, a silent agreement that this was right were you both belonged.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up in your bed. Remus was hugging you from behind, his nose buried in your neck and still sound asleep.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You felt the warmth of Remus's body against yours, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a delightful peace. For a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected to someone who had come to mean so much to you. Your heart ached with affection, selfishly hoping he'd wake up so you could stare into his lovely eyes again.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake him despite yourself, and turned to gaze at his sleeping face. There was a peaceful calm there that you hadn't seen before, a loveliness that spoke of a man who had finally found a measure of peace. It made your heart swell with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

As if sensing your gaze, Remus stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. When he saw you looking at him, a soft smile curved his lips, and he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer. Your eyes indulged in his own like it was sin.

"Good morning.” He murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Good morning.” You whispered, your own smile mirroring his. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have in years.” He admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or hesitation. Finding none, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, {Y/N}."

"For what?" You asked, absolutely melting as he continued to trail kisses from your temple to your neck.

"For everything.” He sighed, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "For giving me a place to heal, for your patience, and for... well, for last night." He cheeked.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory of the previous night, but you couldn't help but smile, playfully glaring at him. "I should be the one thanking you, Remus. You've brought something into my life that I didn't even realize I was missing."

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your face. "I'm not easy.” He whispered.

“I've always been one for a challenge, Remus.” You whispered as he leaned down to bury his face into your neck. “Unfortunately, I find falling for you quite easy.”

He chuckled, the base in his voice bringing a shiver to your spine. “... I'm a lot of work.”

“You earn your keep, Remus.” You whispered softly and he slowly began to let his hands slip up to your waist, lowering himself to draw lazy kisses along your chest.

“You'll tire of me. When you know me.” He urged and you closed your eyes blissfully.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“You'll-” Before he could finish and fall deeper into his own self doubt, you covered his mouth. Cupping his jaw to pull him into another kiss. One he returned with full earnestness.

You broke the kiss and stared up at him with your doe eyes he almost caved.

“I'll love you, Remus. I do. I will. I'm not going to give up that easily,” You huffed. “No matter how much convincing you try to do.”

He stared at you a moment longer, leaning in and running his lips along yours. “It's rotten work.”

“I've never shied away from work.” You whispered and pulled him close. Letting him hide away from the world in your room. “I'm never going to shy away from you.”

Remus sighed deeply, the weight of his doubts lifting as he whispered, "Then I'll never let you go."

And in that shared promise, they found a peace that neither had ever dared to hope for.

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surielstea · 3 months ago

Text

A Fatherly Fear

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eris has doubts about how good of a father he’ll truly be, Reader eases his mind.

1.8k words

I winced as a cold breeze entered my bedroom, huffing as I stirred from sleep and held the blankets to my chin as I shifted closer to my mate, who was always there to warm me up no matter the climate. The fire in his veins had been a blessing throughout the long winter months.

But his side of the mattress had been vacant. I squint one eye open, only to find ruffled sheets. I sit up and open both my eyes as I search for my mate in the dark room.

"Eris?" I murmured, rubbing at my eyelids with the heel of my palms.

When I receive no reply I quietly groan, slipping from the warm bed, padding towards the open balcony doors. That explained the chilling breeze.

I go to slide the glass door closed when I spot a familiar redhead staring out at the crescent moon in the sky, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

I frown and step out into the frigid night, immediately wanting to go back to our heated bed and bundle myself in the blankets, but he had already turned to look at me with despondent eyes and I knew there was no way I'd leave him out here.

"What are you doing awake?" I pace towards him, craving his fire. "Come back to bed," I wrap my arms around one of his biceps as I stare up at him.

He looks down at the golden signet ring in his hands, the one that had belonged to his father, and his father's father before him. "Couldn't sleep," He sighed, looking out at the green forest, vibrant under the moonlight. The smell of spring was unmistakable in the night-chilled mist.

I knew that Eris hadn't been sleeping well since the beginning of my pregnancy, I was unsure if that was because he was paranoid about my safety, or paranoid about becoming a father. I wish I could ease his mind about both.

I simply lean into him, his arm coming around my back as I laid my head on his chest. I watched the trees sway with the wind, and the stars twinkle in the night sky, I even spotted a doe trotting freely in the game park below us. I waited in the comfortable silence, letting him decide if he wanted to talk or not. Eventually, he broke our silence.

"My father," He began. "He used to beat me and my brothers with this ring on," He stated, holding the ring up and over the balcony. It was beautifully crafted, and no doubt solid gold. "I can still remember how cold it felt on my skin," He hummed, putting it back on his fourth finger.

I turned away from the railing, wrapping both my arms tightly around my mate, holding him close and bathing in the warmth he radiated.

I hated the idea of Beron still having an effect on Eris, on anyone living really. The late high lord would be rolling in his grave if he knew he was still tormenting souls.

"He's gone now," I say, propping my chin up onto his chest to stare up at him. "He can't hurt you," I brush a strand of loose hair from his eyes.

"No," He shook his head. "He can't," He placed his hands on my waist.

I cup my hands over his, smiling when I feel the chill of his wedding band. "I much prefer this ring anyway," I said, brushing my thumb against it.

He nodded, leaning down and resting his forehead against mine. "You should go back to bed, you need your rest," He murmured and I shook my head no, turning away from him and back to the rolling hills and mountains in the distance.

"You do too," I spoke stubbornly. "So we'll stay out here until you're ready to go back inside," I finalized, leaning back into his chest while he wrapped his muscular arms firmly around my waist.

The silence danced around us yet again, but it was an easy sort of quiet, the kind where crickets chirped and owls hooted in order to fill it.

"My mother used to tell me stories from the past, when my father was a better man," He began, tightening his hold around me, warming me to my very core. "Before he had power, before he had me, she said he had been so different then." His chin comes down onto the top of my head. "I know now that he was manipulating her, hurling her into a royal marriage when she was freshly twenty," He continues, taking a deep breath between his next words. "But still, a part of me likes to believe he had a soul before he became power-hungry."

I let him talk, let him sift through all the thoughts in his mind.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is that I'm terrified I'll be just like him when our child is born," He confesses into my hair and my brows bunch. I whirl around to face him with a stern expression.

"Your father was a monster," I state plain and simple. Eris' eyes darken.

"Yes, and I was his favorite son," He stressed and something inside my gut tightened. I hated seeing him like this, so worked up due to his own mind reeling with no one around to tell him it was going to be okay.

"That doesn't make you him," I bring my hands to his jaw. "Look at me," I whispered and he did as I said, his beautiful amber eyes meeting my gaze. "You're not him, you're not your mother, you're Eris Vanserra. My amazing mate, and the father of my child," I argue. "You're just you, who runs through your blood can't affect who you choose to be, do you understand me?" I lifted a brow and he nodded. "Tell me you understand me," I demanded and he smiled.

"I understand you, my love, I understand you," He reassured and my shoulders fell with the release of tension. He inches forward and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

"You're going to be such a good mom," He whispers, holding me achingly close like I might slip from his grasp at any moment. "I hope he turns out more like you," He pulls back to look me in the eye and I beam up at him, thinking about our soon-to-be son, he matches the grin and I swear I fall in love all over again.

"Only if he has your smile," I bargain and he debates it for a moment before muttering, "Deal." Then leaning in again and attaching our lips.

I melt into his touch, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. "But," I pull away for air. "No matter what he looks like, or how he acts, I'm certain you'd tear this continent apart if anything ever happened to him," I remark and his soft smile was an answer enough that I was correct. He pecks me in reply.

"Come back to bed." I intertwine our hands, dangling them between us as I slowly pull away from him, receding towards the glass doors behind me.

"It gets so cold without you," I whine and he smirks knowingly.

"Says a girl from the Summer Court," He teases and I scowl at him playfully.

"She up, you know I can't use magic while I'm pregnant with your baby," I somehow pin the blame on him and he chuckles, allowing me to drag him back into our bedroom.

I let go of his hands and slid the glass door shut, locking it and keeping the persistent cold out. "Gods, I hope our children don't complain as much as you," He sighs, flopping down onto the bed.

"Oh honey, we're going to be the bane of your existence," I taunt, crawling up towards him on the mattress.

"Impossible," He sighs, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me right into him.

He wrapped his arms around me, the blankets covering the both of us and as if he knew exactly what I needed, the comforter began to seep warmth, the way the sun's rays felt after a rainy day.

"Wait," I perked up to look at him.

"What is it?" His brows furrowed.

"You said children, as in, more than one," I recalled and he looked at me confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said, I hope our children don't complain as much as you," I say, mocking him with a deep voice.

His confusion remained prominent on his face. "What about it?" He arched a brow. "I mean, whatever you want is fine with me but I wasn't exactly planning on only having one," He frowned.

"Well, how many do you want?" I asked, and you'd think this is something we would have talked about before he put a baby in me.

"I want a girl," He confessed. "Once we have a girl I'll be satisfied," He explained and I paled.

The Vanserra family was known for having a very long lineage of only male offspring. Whether it was a curse, magic, or dumb luck she wasn't quite sure. But he seemed entirely serious.

I stared at him with a fearful look in my eyes and he burst out laughing, chuckling at my expression.

"Gods, you should see your face," He hummed between breaths, cupping my cheeks in his hands.

"My pretty girl," He sighed once he got his amusement under control. "I promise I don't want anything that you wouldn't be comfortable with," He reassured and my anxiety declined. "But I would love to fuck another baby into you," He hummed, throwing his arms back around me.

"For a male so worried about becoming a father, you seem horny at the idea of getting me pregnant," I say and he grins.

"You just, I like the idea of having a family with you," He confesses and I lean upward, kissing him gently.

"I like the idea of having a family with you, too," I reply and he flushes so red that I could see the hue in the dark. I don't say anything, just peck his lips, reveling in the idea of being about to have a kid and still being able to make him blush.

"Get some sleep, Eris," I say softly against his lips. "You can tell me all about your plans for our family in the morning," I murmur through a yawn, furrowing deeper into his chest, melting into his warmth.

"Goodnight, beautiful," He whispered, running a hand through my hair until I drifted off beneath his touch.

It took him a moment to join me in a slumber, but the thoughts of his father were wiped away by my comforting words. And after a moment of reciting them, he was able to finally find some rest.

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tinalbion · 3 months ago

Note

heard you were looking for some Logan Howlett requests. What if his significant other was a human ouija board. Like maybe they can talk to dead people or even possess others. What would be Logan’s initiation reaction when they first met and how did they get together?

'𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x gender neutral!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞! Canon typical language, angst, feelings, some self-hatred (typical in mutants), softness, slight fluff, some comfort

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 5k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ahh this was such a fun idea, anon! I was very excited to do something like this considering I have a character who can do similar things to this reader, so the inspiration was easy peasy~ I hope you enjoy it💙

Also thank you Tumblr, for having the WORST handle for quality ugh. Making gifs for them to suck is the worst feeling, if anyone could help me in figuring that out, I'd appreciate it!

The first day you arrived in the mansion was one you would never forget, and no one would let you either, that was for sure. You’d managed to find out way almost halfway across the state to get to the mansion for gifted youngsters, and though the name had you fooled, you were given a place to stay and it made you feel as if you belonged. All walks of life walked the halls, some with incredible powers, while others had some that were questionable, but they were all amazing in your opinion. You would sit there in awe whenever a student would demonstrate their abilities, secretly praying in your mind that no one asked about yours, but naturally, all of the mutants were curious to see what other people like them could do.

You sat back, being one of the older people who were welcomed into the mansion, but Charles Xavier told you that there had been all walks of life in these walls, one of the mutants there being well over 150 years old. You thought this was incredible, knowing people of your kind could have prolonged lives, though the thought to you was terrifying.

“Could I meet them?” you asked him with excitement.

Charles chuckled and looked at you, seeing how hopeful you looked, though he wasn’t sure what kind of mood that particular mutant would be in. “That is a question I don’t know the answer to. You see, this particular mutant is a little…”

“Bitchy?” Scott said as he walked by with a playful scoff.

Charles sighed. “Touchy. We’re looking for ‘touchy’, Scott.”

“Sorry, Professor,” Scott said playfully and gave you a wave. “Hey, new kid, nice to have you here.”

“Thank you!” You said, your tone overly kind. You wanted to fit in, you knew it would be hard to do what with what you could do.

Whenever someone tried to shake your hand, you shook your head and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, can’t,” and you’d drop it there. Thankful people just assumed it was your power and didn’t try to press it, so you would continue with your day.

But the day you met the Wolverine was a day that had you rethink everything, especially being there in the mansion. You were a freak among freaks, even your parents wanted nothing to do with you, but after being in the mansion for several days, that’s how many of them felt. Classes had let out for the day and you were looking for the Professor to speak with him about how to further control your powers when you finally met him, or well, ran into him. The Wolverine.

You stopped yourself just short of running into him and gasped as you stared up at the man, his gaze menacing as he glared down at you as you gathered your thoughts and the books you almost dropped to the floor. “Shoot, I’m sorry, uh, oh!” You realized who it was, the infamous moody mutant.

“Mind watchin’ where you’re goin’, kid?” He snapped as he took a slight step back.

You almost caved under that pressure, your eyes widened and you looked at him in surprise, too stunned to say anything back. But it wasn’t due to his cold response, it was because of the woman you saw behind him. They all looked the same in general when they weren’t properly connected; ghastly pale, almost see-through with an inhuman luminescence. The woman behind Logan had smiled kindly at you and looked almost pained at the man she stood behind, there was a sadness in her eyes as her long, brown hair hung in ringlets and her dark eyes looked sunken in, sad.

You stood frozen to the spot and stared past Logan, but he thought you were terrified of him and had the same reaction when everyone got too scared of him, so he brushed past you, making contact against your arm as he pushed past you.

“Oh no,” you gasped as the woman was suddenly within you, taking over your body, pushing you back into your consciousness as if she were in the driver's seat. She stumbled into your body, not having a hold of you very well, her motor functions slightly off.

“James?” the voice from your body asked, her voice different from yours.

Logan stopped and spun on his heel to glare at you with a look of pure fucking anger, but his eyes widened, the look of fear etched into his face as he was standing face to face with his mother, Elizabeth. He was taken off guard, he couldn’t find his voice, and all he could do was stare at the woman before him.

“M-Mom?” Was he dreaming? He had to have been, he was still in the school as he stared at the long-deceased woman, he wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep or how long he was out…

The woman whose eyes seemed to glow despite being dark had reached out for her son, that looming sadness forever etched into her face. Her emotions seemed melancholic yet terrified, she wasn’t at rest and seemed to never have been at rest. “James, that’s you, my little boy..?” Her hand was still clasped to the man’s arm, her grip tightening. “Why… why did you have to be like him?”

Logan refused to move, staring at the woman as if he were in a trance, a never-ending loop of pain and suffering. “Mom, I-I…” His words fell short as he tried to push away these complicated feelings, these harsh emotions in which he buried. The face his mom wore the night he discovered his mutant ability, the night he killed his father… Her face haunted him for a long time.

“How could you kill your own father!” she wailed.

Charles had been coming to search for you but stumbled upon the scene and acted fast. “Logan, get her off of you!” He called out, and Scott had been walking with him, so he bolted toward you to tear your grip from Logan.

“Professor, what’s going on?!” Scott called to him as he yanked the strange woman by her shoulders, and suddenly, the person in his grasp was you.

You were gasping as you collapsed to the floor, your eyes wide with a thin layer of sweat coating your face. You hoped no one would ever have to figure out what your power was, but the one person you hadn’t formally met, the one many of the others warned you about, he had to be the one you went and probably pissed off. You lifted your head to search for him, and he was still there, much to your surprise, but his expression was not good, he was definitely pissed.

“Logan, I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck was that?! Huh?” He stepped closer, wanting to act out on impulse, on that boiling anger as he stared down into your scared, wide eyes. You trembled in fear of him truly acting on his animalistic urges that you could see reflected within his eyes, but once he caught your expression, he mellowed -only slightly. “What did you do?”

“I’m so sorry, Logan, I wanted to-”

“Logan, this is our new student, they came here in need of help with their powers. You’ve had it demonstrated firsthand, but they can see and speak with people who have passed on, and if they have physical contact, the spirits can use them as a conduit and speak for themselves.”

Logan looked from the Professor and then back at you, but you couldn’t read his expression, was it fear or disgust? You couldn’t tell as he suddenly straightened up and turned off, walking away from you all, leaving you feeling even more sick to your stomach than when you first arrived.

“I’m so sorry about, as I’ve said, he is a being of a complicated nature, give him time and he might warm up to you. He’ll understand.” Charles smiled up at you and clasped your shoulder, not afraid of the consequences. “Come now, we should get to our lesson.”

You looked back at the man who stalked off down the hall, and the overwhelming sadness you felt from the rejection had been a huge blow to you. But this was why you needed this man’s help, you never wanted to do this again unless you meant to do it.

You couldn’t be afraid of the ghosts anymore.

The months passed and Logan had barely stuck around to give you a second glance whenever you’d catch each other in the halls, but Charles assured you he was just still very raw about the nerve that was touched. He felt emotion on a strong level and didn’t know how to approach the situation. You had tried to believe that Charles meant well and that maybe Logan would give you a chance to explain yourself, but you hadn’t gotten one.

So you trained, you tried to take the feelings you had and channel them into learning how to use this power, and you definitely could be of some use around here instead of scaring the hell out of the rest of the students and staff. Charles had you train with Jean and Rogue sometimes, so that’s when you found your ‘mutant’ name, your code name, as the rest of the students called it. ‘Planchette’. It was simplistic, maybe a little silly, but it stuck with you and conveyed what you could do. Charles smiled when you told him the name, and he figured if you were happy then that’s all that mattered.

“Alright now, onto the next lesson,” Charles instructed. “I want you to channel this power without having to feel overly emotional, see if you can will it to happen, alright? And don’t become discouraged if you can’t do it right away.”

You had done what you could during each lesson, and each time you focused, the stronger your ties to the afterlife had become, and a lot of the spirits who would normally surround you had begun to help you with these powers. Some would lend you what power they had for your attacks, which developed rapidly, while others would assist in possession. You no longer stuck with possession of your own body, but could use the helpful spirits to possess others, which initially meant being able to use others for their powers in case things went south.

After a long session, you just wanted to rest and eat, but it had been later than dinner time, so everyone had already eaten while you shuffled into the kitchen, but to your surprise and discomfort, Logan was already in the kitchen. His eyes met yours and flickered away instantly, focusing on the bottle of beer in his hand. How he got beer in here without the kids finding it was a wonder.

“Hey Logan,” you greeted with a simple wave. He just nodded and barely looked at you, so you continued to remain halfway across the kitchen as you shuffled around to look for food.

The man took notice of your careful steps, your attempt to remain as invisible as possible now that he was in the same room as you, though some part of him appreciated the lack of annoyance, there was that side of him that considered you ignoring him was also rather annoying. Did he frighten you that bad that night? It sure as hell didn’t help that he walked out of the room whenever you were there, trying not to see the eyes of his mother as you looked at him. The way you looked at him was maddening.

“Leftovers are in the fridge,” he said simply.

You turned to look over at him and offered a small smile. “Oh, thanks,” you said and walked toward the fridge. You heated a small plate of food and grabbed a drink, then stood in the center of the kitchen, afraid to join him at the counter, but you had nowhere else to sit, he’d have to manage. You took the seat furthest from him and began to eat small bites, your eyes managing to catch glimpses of him until his eyes met yours, causing you to look down, now feeling the fear of being caught.

“You know,” he said with a heavy sigh, his finger tapping the side of the bottle, “I know you couldn’t… control yourself that day.” He wanted to apologize, he felt shitty for how he treated you because of something that was out of your control, but it took him a while to form a sentence that wouldn’t sound downright rude. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You looked up from your plate and placed your fork down, looking at him with a cautious gaze. “I should apologize,” you replied. “I tried to avoid it altogether, but sometimes when my emotions are too high, it can take over… I didn’t mean to upset you, Logan…”

Your discomfort was obvious to him as he looked over at you, staring at you in curious interest. “It’s fine, just… try not to make a habit of it,” he grumbled in his typical way, pushing away any true feelings other than mustering up the perfected resting bitch face.

“Charles has been helping a lot with that, actually, and I can control it… mostly. Sometimes I can’t if the spirit’s energy is too strong.”

Logan looked across the table at you and stared for a moment. “So that really was…”

“Yes,” you confirmed his suspicions, “that was your mother… Again, I’m sorry, I know my power is… inconvenient.” You didn’t want to cut yourself short at all, Charles had made sure you didn’t, but you couldn’t help the feeling of being a burden whenever someone would come into contact with you.

“And it happens when… you’re feeling strong emotion,” he said slowly, as if trying to understand how your power worked.

You nodded and offered a small smile. “I was nervous, scared, it’s all been a lot being here, getting used to being away from home. Then almost running into you, it was a lot all at once and my barriers broke.”

He sipped at the bottle in his hand and watched you quietly for a moment. “I get that.”

His replies were short and sweet, but you didn’t mind, you knew he was a man of few words, so maybe he’d listen now. “Look, Logan, I won’t make this a habit because it’s not my place whatsoever, but your mom… I could feel sadness and conflicting love. She loved you despite being scared, I don’t know the details and I don’t mean to pry, but it’s a message I wanted to pass on… She loved you, she did. She may not have conveyed that in the end, from what she’s told me, but-”

“Enough,” he snapped with a hand raised, signaling for you to stop. “That’s enough.”

You stopped, your eyes wide, afraid you’d upset him again.

“I… get what you’re tryin’ to do, but it’s fine. I buried that a long time ago. It’s done.”

You nodded in response and sighed. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Ghostie, just… warn me before you do it again.” He grumbled and sipped at his beer.

You both remained in the kitchen for a little while and had some time to talk, got to know each other a little more, and that’s when you wanted to curse all those who told you Logan wasn’t worth the time. You sat there, gazing at him when he didn’t seem to notice, smiling at the way he face rarely change, but that faint smile he made when you said something funny or relatable was noticeable to you.

The rest of these people were fools; Logan was something special.

After that night in the kitchen, he didn’t outright avoid you anymore, though he was quiet most of the time as if deep in thought whenever you were around. Could you blame him though? Having to see his dead mother in over one hundred years would shake anyone who hadn’t seen strange things on a regular basis, but the hurt in his eyes spoke enough to you that he wanted to avoid a situation like that again. So, no hand-to-hand combat for the near future until you knew you had everything under control.

And you trained endlessly, even when Charles almost begged you to refrain, you wanted to get better and not have to worry about another situation like that ever again. At some point, you’d spoken to Rogue, another mutant who couldn’t touch anyone around her without doing something awful, but she envied you in a way, seeing how easy you had it. But because of the similarities, you bonded in a way, and she enjoyed your company whenever she had some downtime from her own training lessons.

Today you had both promised to hang out to have some time out by the fountain to talk about life, boys (mostly Bobby), and the occasional mission debriefing, but today she had seemed a tad off. Not in a bad way, mind you, but she kept looking at you with an impish smile, your eyes narrowed as you saw the smile she wore.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Oh, nothin’ much,” she hummed softly as she paged through some of the notes you’d written about your training lessons.

You kept a journal of sorts to keep track of your progression, and you wrote down anything that may have been of some use to remember for later, but you also tended to scribble things or random notes on random blank pages. You wondered if there was something that sounded silly or incoherent to her until you peeked over to see a sloppy sketch you’d done of Logan. Your eyes widened and you snatched it from her grasp as she began to laugh giddily at your reaction.

“Pretend you didn’t see that, besides, that was an awful recreation,” you mumbled as you slid the journal back into your bag.

Rogue just shrugged and watched you playfully. “Oh, I don’t think it looked bad at all, seemed almost too good,” she teased. “So, got a thing for Logan, huh?”

“N-No!” you squealed, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded, but only because it was coming from someone else’s mouth. “I mean…”

“Hah, I knew it!” Rogue giggled at your reaction and knew she had you cornered. “So what set it off, Ghostie?” Using the nickname Logan gave you was a low blow.

Your eyes narrowed and you shot her a warning glance. “Oh my gosh, stop calling me that,” you snorted out, laughing hysterically. “And that is well, I always thought he was handsome, obviously, but we got to talking and we’re actually cool I think?” you said with a tone of uncertainty.

“Okay, and now you’re all sweet on him?” She asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

You groaned and shook your head, completely stuck on how to answer her. “Rogue I did not bring you out here to grill me about my non-existent love life,” you mumbled and stuffed your books into your bag, making sure the journal was buried in the bottom.

“Well, we are friends, ain’t we? I talk to you about Bobby all the time,” she pointed out.

“Oh, I didn’t notice,” you said sarcastically with a smile, grabbing your bag as you stood.

Rogue watched you, confusion etched into her features. “Oh, we done already?” She asked, sounding disappointed.

You shrugged and smiled softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back later, hopefully! Charles trusts me with a small mission, so wish me luck.”

Rogue had walked you back to the mansion and prodded you for all the details of the mission, smiling as you both walked past a group of students while you told her what details you knew. As you looked up toward the Professor’s office, your eyes widened a little as you saw Logan leaning in the doorframe, speaking to the man. Rogue nudged your side while she held in a giggle, smiling wide.

“Oh, hey Logan!” Rogue called out obnoxiously louder than normal. “Your boyfriend is here~” She teased quietly.

You sunk within yourself and groaned as you spun around to bid her goodbye, your face betraying the forced kindness in your voice. “See ya later, Rogue, I hope to see you later so we can chat more,” you said disingenuously as you glared daggers at her.

She just giggled and waved. “Buh bye!”

You turned back to see Logan and Charles staring at you, the obvious flutter in your stomach was almost too much to ignore as you entered the room, feeling Logan’s eyes on you. “Hey Professor, hey Logan. So, about that mission…”

Charles smiled warmly and nodded. “Afternoon, Planchette, I wanted to debrief you on your mission, and I have to insist you bring a seasoned X-Man with you, and I suggested Logan. He said he had no qualms if you don’t.”

Your eyes widened at the thought of hanging out with Logan on a mission of all places, and your heart couldn't be beating any faster. “Oh,we-well that's great, what will the mission be?” You asked with a large smile on your face as you tried not to get distracted by Logan’s presence.

“He has me running errands?” You asked aloud to yourself as Logan drove. “This is what I’m subjected to? Errands. Wow.” You leaned your head against the glass and sighed in frustration.

Logan just scoffed and shook his head, his gaze focused intently out the window. “What, you expect to leap into danger the first chance you get? And then what, throw what talent you have away almost getting killed?”

“I wanted to do something useful, to prove myself,” you muttered.

“You are, Charles is giving you a hell of an opportunity right now just being out here with me and not babied by an entire team, like Scott,” he scoffed. “But there are always dangers in something simple as ‘running errands’ as you so graciously put it.”

You sighed again and groaned, knowing what he was saying was true, so you turned to him and gave him a face since you had to admit you were wrong. “Yeah, you’re right, sorry… I just… I wanted my powers to actually do something positive instead of make people hate me.”

“No one hates you, Ghostie,” Logan assured as he looked over at you, his eyes stuck to the disappointment etched onto your face.

The look you gave him when you turned to look over at him was priceless. “I was pretty convinced you did,” you chuckled softly.

Logan’s brows furrowed at you and he couldn’t hold back the scoff. “I don’t hate you, you just… threw me off is all, hasn’t happened since, either. Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“For someone your age, you sure are clueless, ain’t you?” He grumbled with that sardonic grin.

“If you only knew,” you huffed and shook your head. “But I am glad you don’t hate me.”

Logan peeked over at you, his smirk growing wider. “Is that why Rogue called me your boyfriend?” He asked.

You’d never shot up so fast with your face flushing in embarrassment. “W-What?” You asked, unsure if you heard correctly.

“Oh you know, what she said to you outside of the office,” he pointed out.

You swallowed the lump that grew in your throat and looked back out the window, hiding your face. “Ah, yes, that, just teasing me is all, nothing to worry about!” You said in a higher tone than you wanted, waving off any accusations with a nervous smile. “I was teasing her about Bobby, so she got me back. Anyway-”

“Is it true, then?” He asked, once again, his tone playful as he avoided looking at you while he drove. “Wanting me to be your boyfriend?”

You weren’t sure how to look at him after he asked that, wondering just how much damage it would cause to what you two had built since that first day in the mansion. You weighed the pros and cons and there hadn’t been many cons in your mind, but despite everyone warning you of the ‘animal’ that he was, you weren’t sure you could see what they did.

As your mind was processing his question, Logan mistook your silence for embarrassment and he just chuckled. “Sorry, did I pick on you too much, Ghostie?”

“What if… I said yes. How much would that completely screw up our friendship?”You asked as you suddenly turned to look at him, his eyes met yours briefly as he drove, but went back to the road.

It was his turn to remain silent now, thinking about the weight of your question when he was just trying to tease you. In all seriousness, there was that ‘what if’ scenario that played in his mind, and even then, would he allow himself to feel that warm feeling that he sought out? Jean proved to be a real heartbreak, her dedication to Scott was almost nauseating, but he always respected her choice, it was her choice. But you? You weren’t her, no, you were something completely different and you never lived up to anyone’s expectations but your own. You’d fought hard to make a place for yourself in the school, you worked your ass off, and you proved yourself to Charles.

“I’d say… that it wouldn’t screw anything up,” Logan finally replied, his head turned slightly to look over at you with an almost stoic face.

The smile that grew on your face was one of a lovesick idiot, but it was one of the best feelings in the world as you sat here in the car with him, and you had to be sure to thank the Professor when you got back from running your errands.

When you arrived back at the mansion, you ran straight from the Professor’s office and then straight back to your room, needing time to process the words Logan had spoken to you in that car, thinking you were hearing whatever it is you wanted to hear. He had sought you out after you both got back, but you needed this moment, you needed to think. By the time you’d barricaded yourself in your room, the mansion was getting quiet, about time for the others to get to bed. Finally, some peace.

Your back was pressed against your door, you leaned your head against it, and let out a sigh. “Why am I running?” You asked yourself. “He’d just leave, shove me away like they did...” The mere thought of your parents caused your stomach to feel uneasy, you hated thinking of them and the faces they made when they found out what you were capable of.

A gentle knock on the door startled you and caused you to jump. “Hey, Ghostie, it’s me.”

Your hand was shaking as you reached to open the door, and you peeked out to see Logan standing there in his light grey hoodie, staring down at you. “You okay? You took off runnin’ as soon as you left the office.” He wouldn’t admit that he was worried, not quite yet, but he had to see for himself.

You nodded, unsure of the expression you wore, but you offered a small nod. “Y-Yeah, I’m good,” you told him.

He searched your face and huffed. “Bullshit. What is it? Did I say something? Was it what we said in the car?”

“No!” You gasped. “Well, yes, sorta… You see, my… powers may have been worked on, but, I’m scared to…hurt you again. I can’t do that again.” You stood between him and the door, but you weren’t sure if you should have moved.

Logan didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he stared at you through the opening. “Ghostie, can I come in…?”

You hesitated but nodded after a moment and stepped aside to let him in. As you stepped off, you closed the door behind him and remained silent as you averted your gaze, afraid of anything that was to come of this moment, afraid of the rejection and disappointment you’d been so familiar with. “Seeing the dead isn’t natural, Logan,” you said softly.

The man sighed and looked down at you, wanting to embrace you in a moment of comfort, but with your high emotions, he didn’t want to trigger your power to burst through again. “Look, I never said this was gonna be easy, but I was bein’ serious back there, you know.” He held up his hand after waiting a moment, staring at you, expecting you to take it. This was him showing that he trusted you.

With a deep breath, you sighed and reached out slowly, allowing yourself to calm your nerves as you set your palm against his, your fingers wrapped instinctively around his. You both stood there, breaths stilled as you looked at one another, waiting for something to happen. When it didn’t happen, your body visibly relaxed as you let out a deep breath, your smile growing wide across your face.

“See? Nothin’ to be worried about, give yourself more credit.”

You continued to smile up at him and nodded, knowing he was right. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry for not trusting you sooner, I just… I never want to see you look at me like that again-” The way you could recall his face as he stared at you like some sort of… freak that first day, it haunted you.

Logan took a bold step closer and gave your hand a gentle squeeze, showing you that he was there, that he had you. “Ghostie, that was before everything, okay? I… I’m sorry.”

You nodded your head, smiling softly up at the man who seemed to surprise you around every corner, and you couldn't help but feel the way you did for Logan. “I'm sorry too,” you replied. “So, does this mean you really wanna hang around the Sixth Sense kid?” You chuckled and tilted your head to look at him, eyeing his softened gaze.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle as he released your hand, wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and pulled you into a half hug. “Good thing ghosts don't scare me much.”

241 notes · View notes

siren-of-agony · 10 months ago

Text

Answers to "please stop"

No.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't want to.

I don't know how.

I will soon.

But then how will you learn?

We're almost done.

It's almost over.

Ask me again!

Oh well, if you're asking that politely…

Fine. For now.

Only once I've come up with something more fun.

Only once you've come up with something more fun.

Or what?

I know you can go a little bit longer.

You know I won't.

I love it when you beg.

I hate it when you beg.

I'm so bored by your begging.

Not until you're too weak to ask me to.

But I don't have anything better to do.

I wish I could.

Alright! See? All you had to do was ask nicely.

I'm not doing anything.

What, exactly?

Just once more, I promise!

Just once more, I promise! (🤞)

You're doing this to yourself.

You wanted this.

You want this.

You know you made me do this.

Are you ready to give me what I want, then?

I will once you give in.

What will you give me in return?

Why should I?

You know there is only one way to end this.

You know there is only one way this will end.

(Answers to "it hurts")

#whump #whump dialogue prompt #whump dialogue #whump prompt #whumblr #i had 2 ppl request a part two to the it hurts one #and i couldnt come up w enough stuff i liked #so here #have this instead #I wrote this all down yesterday when i was trying to fall asleep and i kept coming up w new things so i just kept unlocking my phone and #writing stuff down #i thought i had way less than last time but it's actually much more #granted i rly leaned into the differences just slight wording changes make #also i feel like half of these would do so much better with some sort of term of endearment stapled onto theme #them #so when reading them just imagine some of them with a darling or a sweetheart or a honey tacked onto them bc that's how i imgined them #also if these writing prompts end up on kinblr again and someone accuses me of forgetting safe words just know i'm gonna break into your #house and put mustard in your shoes

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collectivecloseness · 2 years ago

Text

Beautiful Swan

Eddie Munson x reader

(Summary: When Hellfire starts a fun little game of ‘what animal does everyone look like?’ your self-esteem plummets to the floor. But your best friend and crush, Eddie, can tell. And he’s there to not only defend you, but make sure he’s around to help pick you back up <3. Tw: negative body image. Reuploaded from my ao3. 9.4K)

You’d finally finished today’s session. Eddie decided the cliffhanger he’d brought up was the best place to leave it, the worst for you and the rest of Hellfire unfortunately. But that meant you guys had a few minutes where you could all just chat and hang out.

Eddie waddled up to you, nudging his shoulder against your own to get your attention, and when you looked to him, all he did was smile at you. You chuckled smally back, rubbing your shoulder against his playfully too.

You loved the fact that when Eddie enrolled you in his campaign, he pulled out the seat right next to his for you, on your very first day. Pushing it in with a genuinely charming smile as you sat, and a short bow of his head, as you thanked him. Gareth seemed to get a pencil thrown at his head right after that, although you were too busy starting at Eddie’s pretty smile he was giving just to you. So you guess he’s the one who lost his chair.

It wasn’t just his genuine and effortless charm that made you fall in love with Eddie Munson though, even before he was your best friend, although that certainly added to it. From the moment you saw Eddie, you were completely enamoured. Not just romantically, but he had such an aura around him it just made you want to be someone close to him till the end of time. You’d love, more than anything, for Eddie to ask you out. On a proper date, not just asking his friend to chill at the arcade or smoke weed in his empty trailer. Although you still enjoyed every interaction with him. Him asking you to do those as his girlfriend would be a great day! But it wasn’t going to happen.

Even though Eddie didn’t see much about himself, you tried to talk him up, as much as you could, even if sometimes it fell into the not completely platonic category, you would tell him, because he deserved to know every good thing about himself. You truly saw how amazing Eddie was. And while you two were best friends... you feared there was no way in hell, he would ever even consider thinking about you like that.

Not that you’d hold that against him! Of course not! He didn’t owe you anything, he was perfectly fine being attracted to who he was attracted to. But you sometimes just wished, you looked a little less like yourself, because now and again your gut just whispered to you all the parts of your body that made you unlovable to another person. Especially someone you admired so much, like Eddie Munson.

Eddie nudged you with his hip this time. And a laugh seeped from his bitten smirk as you shoved his arm with your hand, easily regaining his balance but using your shoulders to do so. You giggled back, offering your help by steadying his own shoulders, and letting go once he was on his feet. Eddie however, did not let go of your eyes. Still grinning, his body turned to give you his full attention. “How was today’s session princess?” His hand coyly flipped half over his grin, holding his elbow, like he was rocked with anticipation for your answer.

Your character wasn’t even royalty. And you refused to ever play the damsel in distress role, in a group filled with only boys. But Eddie still called you that pet name. And it made you smitten every damn single time. You at least presumed, it was a dnd reference.

“Was I an... adequate dungeon master?” He leant closer to you but didn’t whisper it. You sucked your lips in even though you made it clear you were smiling, just trying not to giggle, with the way Eddie made you feel. “Well... adequate may be a grand understatement, my noble dungeon master.”

Eddie’s fist skyrocketed to his chest, eyes closed as he let out a grateful sound. “You’re too kind sweet princess! For I surely would’ve been strewn in twain, if you thought any less of me.”

Eddie never gave up the silly voices, and he only peeked open one eye to see if you were amused, teeth gleaming in glee as he saw your cheeks raise as you laughed. He winked that open eye at you, before dropping his hands to his sides.

You went to swat at his chest teasingly again, but Eddie easily brushed away your hand with his own, smirking at his easy victory over you. His smirk soon transitioned into a smile, and his lips opened as if to say something else. Until Mike spoke up loudly.

“This is boring! Let’s play a game.”

Eddie didn’t even take his eyes off you before dramatically rolling them. You giggled, hiding it in your hand, but at the sound Eddie’s slumped shoulders bounced right back up, and he beamed at you proudly.

“Aw. Do the babies all need to play games to stay happy?” Gareth teased, flicking Mike’s forehead, who then bat at the band members hand like an angry cat.

“Dude shut up. You’re making us look like babies!” Dustin smally whacked Mike, Lucas agreeing. You laughed a little into Eddie, who’s shoulder was still close to yours and not going anywhere. The poor freshmen did still have to fight a little bit to get taken seriously sometimes. Although no one would debate that Eddie held the most power in this room.

“Let’s say what animal everyone looks like!” Jeff smoothly input, pivoting immediately around to his friend. “Gareth is naked mole rat.”

“A WHAT?!” All of the boys erupted into laughter, expect for Gareth who was hitting Jeff with a book. Even Eddie’s chorus rang out behind you and you loved that sound. But oh God.

A cold slimy feeling ran down your throat and seemed to climb up your spine in canon. This game would not be for you. You know you struggle with self-esteem issues, you realise that. Sometimes you felt bad even being in Eddie’s Hellfire logo shirt. It could feel too skin tight and suffocating, nothing to do with Eddie’s printing, but your own nauseating feeling like you somehow didn’t deserve to be wearing it.

You would really prefer if you guys could’ve just kept talking instead. If you could be chatting with Eddie right now, instead of standing here with literal goosebumps on your skin from the threat of this conversation. Would there be anyway you could get out of being picked at this that wouldn’t look odd? You weren’t sure.

Eddie crossed his arms, biting back a smile as he looked at his young warriors, Lucas energetically shaking Jeff and Mike who stood beside him. “Who should we do next?”

God you hoped they didn’t pick you. You knew Eddie wouldn’t be cruel, you knew he was a very empathetic guy, who from his own experiences, knew when words could hurt more than most. You loved that about him, and he loved that you could actually see how kind he could be, and not just because he had such kind eyes. Some of the things he told you in private, only you, were things only a genuinely emotionally intelligent person would know. And even though the other guys were your friends too, you dreaded the thought of them all staring at you and judging an animal from that. ...What would they even pick?

‘A slug.’ Is what popped into your mind. But you shudder, hating yourself for thinking that way. And hating yourself because you almost believe that is an animal you could resemble. It’s stupid. You have to clear the thought away immediately, focus on something, Eddie’s smile at liking this new game, just so you didn’t actually think hard about what you could argue might’ve been an intrusive thought. If you think too hard on it, you’ll bring yourself down and you can’t do that around the others, it’ll just bring them down too.

“Dustin... Dustin...” Mike pondered, now realising he got to make fun of his best friends too.

“Oh shit. Yeah, Dustin...?” Lucas piped up, swivelling more to his side as they both, all of you, stared down your cap wearing friend.

Mike continued. “Hmm... Dustin.”

“You guys better be careful.” Dustin warned, holding up a karate chop hand to show he was serious, making you and Eddie giggle into each other.

Into each other! Your giggles shifted your bodies about until Eddie’s shoulder was leaning against yours. And he stayed in that position! Normally you wouldn’t be this excited because you were physically close as friends, it wasn’t unusual, but when your heart’s already going, everything seemed bigger. You tried desperately not to move, self conscious about your own breathing now, was it rubbing Eddie the wrong way, was it loud? Nasally? And oh my god this is an uncomfy position. Did you look unnatural positioned like this? Like you just wanna touch Eddie? Which is ridiculous because you touch him all the time! You literally hugged this morning. And Eddie held your high five after he’d graced you with one, swinging your hands down and wrapping it in his own as he continued his description of the, courtesy of you, slain goblin. Swinging your hand for a few seconds so it was enough to be causal, not enough for someone to call anyone out on, but enough to be long enough to make you question. And have something to giggle over in bed that night when you thought about it.

Mike and Lucas just laughed at Dustin’s display, before the former decided. “An ostrich.”

It seemed to not be anything Dustin was expecting at least, if his whole body leaning back was enough to tell. “An ostrich? Why the shit?”

“I don’t know” Mike fake stroked his chin, Lucas following in suit as all the members now tried to see the relation in the curly haired boy. “It’s something to do with the eyes. Too beady, too... untrustworthy.”

Dustin scoffed. And there was silence, only for a few seconds in the club room, which was still rare. But everyone was busy contemplating Dustin. Until Gareth spoke calmly. “Jeff’s a blobfish.”

“What the hell is a blobfish?!” Jeff double taked, looking at his best friend incredulously.

“The ugliest animal in the world.” Everyone snickered. “We can probably find a pic of it in the library, if you’re okay breaking into the scary adults only section.”

You were part of the ensemble of laughs everyone gave, including Jeff’s cheerfully fake one before he tackled Gareth, noogieing him hard as the other boy cackled in his grip. You were glad everyone could joke around as friends like this. At first the guys were all a little nicer to you. The freshmen of the group were clearly already friends, as were Gareth and Jeff, but Eddie, even being friends with all of them, accepted you into his close circle almost immediately. You were glad when the guys realised they could just treat you like their other friends, they didn’t need to coddle you just because you were a girl. Although you were a little nervous about the rough housing around this topic.

Sure you could take some light teasing, you weren’t a baby, and you hazed the guys right back, but you had a feeling whichever animal they all said looked like you, is something that’s going to be spiralling into the back of your mind quickly. And you were a bit nervous for any disatourous consequences that could come of that.

The two band members were getting a little rougher, still laughing away, but knocking into the table now. The freshmen all eagerly cheering them on. And even though the session was over, the pieces were about to be put away from their strategic positions on the map, Eddie still raised his hand as he watched his beloved hand painted figures topple.

“Hey hey HEY!” Eddie called out, his hand spread out and everyone, you included, falling into silence under your leader, a smile on his face that got you all invested in whatever wise words he’d say. “I’m the dungeon master here!” Eddie threw both his arms wide open dramatically now, smiling fiercely at his little group. “Have you all forgotten who’s God when you’re wearing those shirts?” He scoffed at the guys who were settling down, smiling to you as you watched them all fall in line, his hair bouncing as he rolled his eyes with his whole head. It made you smile. “I’ll decide who’s what!”

Eddie dropped his arms once you all were grinning, eagerly waiting for him to cast his opinions. And firstly, Eddie turned on his heel to you. Both his feet plopped in place firmly, hands swinging behind his back as he hummed to your self, looking you up and down.

Now your heart was truly pounding. You hid the worry on your face easily, just smiling back with such a nice look that it almost was daring him to be mean to someone so loveable, and loyal in your group.

Finally Eddie resigned, with a hand extending to yours, smiling with heart as he finally got the animal he was searching for. “For y/n... a swan.”

Now that hadn’t been what you were expecting. You could feel your head flinch back from the unexpected declaration. For a moment you tried to decipher if there was anything physically about you that was truly swan like that surpassed all the, well, you. But coming up with a blank for that, you felt your heart spike in the good way you’d only felt around Eddie in recent years. A genuine smile crept onto your features and this time you didn’t hold it back.

You and Eddie were still looking right at each other, and he grinned as he saw you spark up at the name. But before you could ask, in a voice you dreadfully knew would be smaller and higher pitched than your usual but you for once didn’t care about, Mike popped up with a question of his own to your dm.

“Soooo, is that because of the ugly duckling thing, orrrr?..”

The rest of the club burst into laughter, Mike more than anyone, looking to you with pride at his jab. You guys did tease each other quite a lot, it helped solidify a lot of friendships early on. The only one who didn’t laugh was Eddie.

You’d laughed at their joke. Not in a large way, but you pointed your finger and stretched out as if to hit their shoulders as they teased, but you laughed along with your friends in their game. Even though as soon as the joke left Mike’s mouth, and the laughter started up, you felt a stabbing pain, starting from your heart, wreaking havoc all over your body. In your life you’d gotten used to laughing after a while, you knew it was easier for everyone else. And it was easier for you if you just played along and didn’t make them uncomfortable. ’Ugly duckling...’ you thought, ’couldn’t have picked better myself. My friends clearly know me so well.’ A glum cloud was moving over you.

Eddie wasn’t too thrilled though. “Hey knock that shit off.” He growled warningly at Mike, who only raised in hands in fake surrender before bringing them to his knees to laugh again. Eddie telling them off almost made it funnier to them. Well, his reactions did really.

With Eddie’s eyes on Mike and Lucas, Gareth raised his hand behind Eddie’s back quickly “Have you turned into the pretty swan yet?”

He yelped and ran as Eddie span around to whack upside his head, hiding behind Jeff with a playfully startled look on his face. Like a dog wanting to play chase.

You didn’t answer his question, and you didn’t even have to laugh as everyone’s attention was on the scene Gareth was making with Eddie. It allowed you to just sink into the background, wishing the shadowy room, a perfect set up by Eddie, the auteur of Hellfire Club, would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to grin till your cheeks hurt, and hide the redness you knew would eventually stain your eyes.

“No I meant swan! Just swan!” Eddie whipped his explanation to the room, frustrated everyone was making such a big deal about what was supposed to be his compliment to you, twisting his words like everyone else in town did. Except this time it made his heart hammer like it hadn’t since he’d accepted the fact nearly everyone hated him, because you were on the receiving end, and not him. “That’s not what I mea- shut up you guys!” His eyes found yours now, and you were just standing exactly where you were before, a neutral look plastered across your expression, minus your upper lip you sucked in.

“You have never been, and are not, an ugly duckling.”

There was a pregnant pause. Your wide eyes were held on Eddie’s soft ones, one hand pressed out to you, the other behind him where the majority of the guys were, like he was trying to forcefully separate you from the bullies, even if they did think it was all joking, and you thought he knew you wouldn’t try and distance those opinions yourself, from the way he kept looking at you. His own lips mirrored yours, the only movement in the room apart from his chest rising and falling as he breathed, sucking it in as he waited for you. He hadn’t meant to start any type of conversation like this, and you knew he didn’t like where it’d gone. With just a few moments of him watching you like that, you felt a small smile start to tug at your lips where they were previously tucked away, heartbeat softening under his gaze and words.

That was until words not spoken by Eddie, broke the graceful moment supposendly only noticed between the two of you.

“Like... so what, is y/n aging backwards, orrrr??” Dustin asked the group, snapping the silence of the room. It was quickly completely shattered as everyone praised Dustin for his comeback. You watched Eddie’s shoulders fall in a sigh, squinting his eyes just a little harder than usual.

Your stomach flipped as the boy you almost felt was a little brother to you cut you deep.

Great, even Dustin was properly joining in now. His words almost stung the most. But even as your brain thought that, your heart thought another thing ’not him too...’

“Seriously, knock it off!“ Eddie growled deeply at his members, more firm than the last time he said it. But the guys just didn’t get it. They weren’t taking him seriously, they didn’t realise they were supposed to. Dustin hadn’t even looked at Eddie, he just kept waiting for you.

And when his big goofy grin was looking to yours, and the others as he got such an uproarious reaction to his joke, Eddie being ignored, your own practice perfect smile reacted too. “Oh not you as well?” You rolled your eyes, thankful it gave you an excuse to blink any wateriness away. “Shit Dustin, I thought at least you’d be on my side?”

“I am.” Dustin nodded, feigning seriousness in a straight pose as he embellished upon his joke. “It’s therapeutic for people to not live in denial after a while.”

You laughed again, giving a small punch to his shoulder as you were half relieved that your serious words came in a light enough tone that no one could decipher them. The other part of you begged them to realise this was too much. That they were hurting you. But you knew you couldn’t handle that. If you started acting like a baby, acting out against their words like a brat who couldn’t take it, they’d all just pause and stare at you, even Eddie. None of them would know what to say and you’d have ruined everything by making it awkward. The ugliest animal thing earlier showed they were all joking as friends, but you couldn’t apparently take a joke. They were all good kids, and your friends. They couldn’t help your uncomfortable truth.

“Has it happened yet in that case?” Mike faux whispered to the other younger boys, slinking away a little with a giggle as Eddie stepped closer, chin out and teeth gritted in frustration.

You couldn’t see that though from your vantage point at the other side of the end of the table. You managed a chuckle at Mike’s add on, it was smaller than your laughs before. You didn’t really know how to react now that Eddie was sticking up for you the way he was, but even that small laugh was enough to bring Eddie physically back to you.

“Y/n you don’t have to laugh,” Eddie told you, eyes twitching downwards in sadness. Why weren’t you discouraging them? “Guys, shut the fuck up already.” He told them off, stepping closer to your side whilst he glared at them.

You felt something in your jaw twitch, a muscle or something, and you hoped Eddie didn’t hear the sound your throat made in response. You leant closer to his warmth, not touching him yet as his slightly widening nostrils made his breathing audible to you, but your jacket material brushed agaisnt his own. “It’s fine Eddie, don’t w-“

“No it’s not y/n.” Eddie quickly interrupted you, looking down at you with a softer glance, even though he’d snapped his disapproving look from the boys in under a second. He still looked disappointed at you though. Although you weren’t sure if he’d had time to control that look aimed at them, or if it was your fault.

You were stunned into silence. You almost felt ashamed, bowing your head as you looked at Eddie’s feet, noticing them shuffling nearer to you. He didn’t solidly touch you yet, but his arm and left side was slightly behind you now, closer like this. You didn’t think the guys were making that much of a big deal, especially since in this case, part of you knew they were truly joking. But the words they spoke still came out. You weren’t expecting Eddie to really defend you, not when you didn’t even try and defend yourself anymore, not even subconsciously. It felt... warm, that he did though.

In the tiniest of movements, you leant your back into his torso.

Your back only grazed against his cotton shirt, but it still felt better than before. Better than most things.

“C’mon, it’s not like she’s gonna start sprouting white feathers any time soon!” Mike retaliated against Eddie in a brave offence.

Your instinct is almost to laugh again. But Eddie’s was to drop his hands onto your shoulders, and that touch completely whirlwinded your thoughts, as well as snapping you out of that learnt behaviour. Things were different when Eddie was behind you. After a few seconds of them still laughing, Eddie began gently rubbing your shoulders. You didn’t think this was because they were still laughing at you. Eddie just naturally fell into it. It felt too good as he rubbed his hands quickly up and down the top of them, the friction buzzing beneath your skin in a way that made you feel heated in your face and chest, not in a way that made you want to itch your skin off, for how disgusting your body felt it was. Eddie was now fully behind you, but his head still leant over yours as he spoke. You felt shrouded by him, including, from your own umbrella of thoughts. “Don’t pay any attention to those shitheads y/n.” He commanded you.

You meant to nod. Really. You meant to show Eddie that you were strong. You were good and could do what he asked. But instead, with the soft weight of Eddie’s palms rolling against your skin, your body gave off more of a defeated shrug. Maybe that’s what your mind intended your body to show anyway. Even with Eddie’s support. Something you didn’t know you needed quite this much, even if you were having somewhat of a hard time properly accepting it.

That seemed to do it for Eddie. He peered down at you, leaning more to the side. You had to look away after a certain point, when his eyes grew scared, it was like he could see right into you. His voice was stable as he moved in front of you, hands still clapsed to your shoulders, and eyes full with hurt. “Stop that y/n, you’re beautiful.”

Loud enough that the club members could hear. Which was in Eddie’s plan. He just wasn’t thinking super far ahead, his chest squeezing for a second too hard, when after a small obvious pause the guys all called out in unison. “Ooooooh!”

They all started teasing him. At a similar level they were doing so to you. And you didn’t miss the sudden panic that hit Eddie’s eyes, especially as his hands dropped from your body, twiddling his own rings instead. “Well you know not beautiful I didn’t mean it like that I just m-me-meant...”

You guessed it wasn’t worth defending you at this point. Now more than ever you had to keep in control of your face, with Eddie looking at you still stumbling over his own words. His confidence quickly fading.

And while it hurt hearing him call you that initially, ’beautiful’, even though you knew something was wrong with you that that did hurt, it hurt even more when he said you weren’t.

And you knew that was stupid. That wasn’t what he meant, he just didn’t want you to think he was hitting on you inappropriately or anything (or at all). He didn’t want the guys teasing you about him having a crush. Especially when he almost definitely didn’t, so Eddie would’ve found it annoying you were sure. That bad part of your brain still took what it could grab at though. Eddie did not mean to say you were beautiful, he didn’t think that was true at all.

Probably only said it to shut up your blabbering for a second. You were that pathetic, just bringing the vibe down for everyone, so much Eddie had to lie. Good job he quickly redacted it you guessed. At least he still had his values there.

Wallowing in your own self-misery, something Eddie was very clealry not missing, he was shook out of his concern for you by Gareth sticking his tongue out at him. “C’mon Eddie, you’re never this nice to us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back with a dramatic grunt to him. “Yeah well that’s because I actually like y/n! Y/n is actually nice.” He turned back to you, still concerned that you weren’t looking at anyone’s face, not even his as he tried to grab your attention. Only his kept being stolen back by those little pricks.

“Is it because y/n’s the only girl in the group?” Lucas asked, getting a “Yeah Eddie. Is it?” From Dustin as back up.

Eddie grit his teeth, shaking his head in frustration. Talk to you, get them to back off, get you to look at him, talk to his group. “No-“

“Well it has to be something.” Jeff suggests, earning a snicker from Gareth.

“Look, you’re all assholes.” Eddie chides. Not in a super serious way, but letting them know he was getting tired of dealing with their bull. He was trying to shut them down, at least get them to talk amongst themselves so he could have you. But as soon as his head snapped back to you, everyone’s went to Gareth, as his digital watch started to beep.

Eddie’s heart sunk, and yours fluttered in relief mixed with discomfort. Time to leave.

Everyone started packing up. Eddie quickly shoving all his things into his bag because leaving them there was a death wish for any figurines or other creations, but he didn’t want to get caught behind by everyone else’s cleaning up.

Dustin hit your arm lightly only to snicker at you when you looked up. You laughed along with the joke. Your head was red because you were bending at an angle under the table to quickly pack your bag. No other reason.

At least with the growing members, no one would notice if you didn’t talk to anyone on the short way out of school. You hoped.

All of you flooded out the theatre rooms door, the club chattering amongst themselves down the empty hallway as you tried to keep your head buried even further now, in less dim light. Although the sudden change of leaving had given you a small spark of rejuvenation, that you were riding out so as not to cry. Eddie was sticking close by you, not talking to the others either, but apart from your mouth breathing you were doing, which you had to keep up to stop from fully cracking, you tried to act normal.

And considering both of you were surrounded by the group walking to the exit doors, Eddie didn’t try and talk to you until you all dispersed there. Even though you were the only thing he looked at the entire walk.

Exiting into the Indiana sun, that was definitely about to start setting with how late the session had gone, the rest of the members started going to their methods of transportation, the parking lot pretty silent as most clubs finished at a reasonable and precise time. Unlike Hellfire.

The kids had their bikes to haul back today, and Gareth’s mom was picking him and Jeff up, so it meant Eddie had a free seat. Not that he wouldn’t be driving you, or anyone, in the back of his van anyways. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” Eddie offered, trying to act causal like he could tell you wanted, but the inside of his mind buzzing with ’Please say yes, please ride with me so we can talk.’

But you quickly shut that down, panic evident on your face, which Eddie hated to see, as you quickly spoke out “My mom’s picking me up.” Too quickly for normal.

Eddie opened his mouth again, just letting it take over what he was next to say without his mind’s involvement, a bit like you clearly were, but as he did, you both spot about the only car rolling outside.

Heart dropping disappointed, Eddie put on a small smile as he waved to your mom through her window, just as you started to run over, not even saying bye to Eddie. Not even hugging him goodbye... which he looked forward to every single day. You hugging him hello and goodbye were the only hugs, the only true physical affection, Eddie really ever got. And he didn’t get it today.

But all he could do was keep waving, not able to see if anyone was waving back thanks to the sun’s reflection on the car window, as he was forced to watch you driving away...

You hated that you had school the next day. You almost wanted to take the day off, you had the very real stomach ache as an excuse. Plus the fatigue from staying up until 2am - it was hard to sleep when all you could do was cry. Scared about what Eddie was thinking right now, knowing he’d be up. How all your friends see you. Would they see you any differently today?

But there came the cost of not showing up, and them possibly figuring out you were hurt by yesterday. Then you holding in your crying the afternoon before was pointless, because they’d all know you’re a baby who makes her friends feel bad. God you hated how anxiety made every decision feel like a crappy one.

But you decided to go to school, prove to yourself that you were brave and not stupid. Even if you still secretly planned to avoid Hellfire as much as possible. Wherever physically, and in places like shared classes with Eddie (in which being the only two to share desks previously always seemed like a blessing), and lunch with all of them, you’d just have to practice avoidance by being quieter.

Unfortunately, none of this was on the table for you.

You got out your moms car and started to walk up to the school doors, busting through the ones closest to your lockers like you did every day, only for your heart to freeze and constrict in your chest, at seeing a pained looking Eddie leaning against your locker.

He was looking every which way, peering over most students heads. And you quickly made the decision to let autopilot run free on your body so you could continue your usual walk up, before Eddie could see you just stood stiff staring at him. Not weird at all. You trudged on.

Eddie’s face lit up when he saw you, but not in the usual happy way. It was more of a relieved look this time. He waved you over though, his curled hand raised above people but not shouting for your attention, which was a bit lower profile for the metal head than usual. You managed a small smile, taking a breath you knew you’d need, as Eddie managed to give a smile that looked all to much like your own as you swanned closer. “Hey princess.” He breathed out, calmer than he looked before.

As much as that nickname made your heart beat faster, you were distracted by the fading smell of smoke on him, and a small frown twisted onto your features, as Eddie only usually smoked right before classes when he was stressed, and needed a cigarette. Oh no, you hoped he was okay.

Eddie pretty much blocked you off from the rest of the school goers, and the world, as you got to your locker. Scooting over because he was literally leaning on yours, his hand moving to rest one to the left, but his entire body leant behind you, a breath as relieved as his smile leaving his lips as he could finally look over you. “I’m so glad you’re in today.”

Your face burned, heart swelling and tingly.

“I mean, I was worried you weren’t gonna show. I was totally gonna ditch and steal your neighbours ladder to check up on you though, if you didn’t.”

You heart was palpitating now, your lips opening into a small fish like shape as you blinked furiously, charmed. Eddie would’ve climbed through your window to check up on you if you’d missed school? How long was he worrying about you? How long had he planned that?

The gesture was so sweet, too sweet to you, electricity stormed through your stomach and your legs, not sure whether to smile or bury everything down deeper because you knew negative feelings were still being held back by a very thin damn. You turned to your locker, keeping a side eye on Eddie as you spoke, organising your books. “I’m fine. I promise. Why wouldn’t I be Eddie?”

It didn’t sound like you were faking. But that’s because it didn’t come out sounding causal at all. Like you weren’t even trying to be convincing. It sounded like you truly didn’t mean any of that and the both of you knew it too well.

’Maybe he just wanted to skip school’ floated briefly through your mind.

Eddie clicked his tongue, unseen to you, running his sweaty palms against the skin and denim of his ripped black jeans. “Well, after yesterday, you seemed a bit upset. Which was fair. I know they were just messing around because you’re their friend, but the guys were being total assholes and losers.”

Fair? Eddie thought you were okay being upset? You knew it was true, realistically. Of course you were allowed to feel upset. But it just felt so... comforting, to have Eddie confirm that for you in his own way, without any prior prodding. It was just a genuine declaration of how he felt.

“O-Oh.”

That wasn’t being hidden from Eddie. The crowd of pupils and teachers was thinning, but Eddie still drew closer, a shield against all those people, the noise of outside the two of you. People could be mean to you guys, mostly him, and he hated the fact people were only mean to you because you were friends with him, so he just wanted a break from that so he could focus on you right now. His face furrowed, already fallen like before he’d even seen you, lips twisting every which way and being bitten on the inside.

“W- uhh, thank you. That’s really nice of you... But yeah, um, I’m fine. No need to worry, honest!”

“Are you being honest though?”

Eddie leant closer and his breath on the nape of your neck drew a loud shudder of a gasp. You turned around quickly, only to be even more intimated at his determined look, now you two were front to front. Your back closed your locker for you, bag dead by your shoes.

“Uhhhh I-“

Eddie put his thumb to your lips, his hand following after and oh so gently cupping your chin. You couldn’t even breathe at this point, too scared to, and Eddie had this geuinine look in his eyes, emotions full in the dark brown, that you didn’t know what to do with. “Y/n please talk to me. You’re my best friend, right? I know you were lying yesterday when you laughed with the guys and I don’t think...” Eddie struggled when he didn’t let his heart run with the words, tongue flicking against his lips as it usually did, while his thumb still graced yours. “I don’t think they were playing along with me.”

In Eddie’s head it made sense. But it had yet to be translated to you. Instead, it was taken as wrong. “Oh? And what game were you playing?” You spoke, lightly unable to avoid brushing against his warm finger.

“No I’m not playing a game I just mean...” Eddie sighed, his brown puppy eyes so sad, as they held yours. Everyone had gone to class now, no one bothering to remind you two of the last bell. “I mean the guys and I... no fuck, hold on.” Eddie inhaled through his teeth, his hand finally leaving your face, which at least allowed you to breathe, but made you feel solemn and hollow at the same time.

Eddie was level with you. Looking like the normal boy you knew he was, who could feel unsure, and scared, and nervous. His ringed hands wrung together, swearing to himself as he tried to hold your eyes in his, desperate for you to stay right now. “I think- I mean I know, I see you differently than them...”

Eddie’s hand braced his chest as he said that, staying splayed there over his white Hellfire shirt. Meanwhile you were overlooking your flustered crush, rolling your shoulders as you exhaled unsurely through your nose. It made you nervous having a one on one conversation with Eddie that was so serious. No distractions. And seeing him so flustered and open was a vulnerable side you’d seen before, but not when you both felt this exposed, with something you were so hesitant to say. You bit your lip, only realising for a split second after that Eddie’s thumb had been on there, but you pushed that thought aside for later as you watched his tongue almost reaching the top of his nose again, sticking out like that nervously. About as on the spot as you felt.

“So... you see me as a swan and they see me as the ugly duckling?” You asked unsure, flinching back and feeling bad when Eddie winced harshly at your words. Shaking his head vigorously. Voice cracking a little through the first few words.

“No! Fuck no, that’s not. That’s not even true what they said y/n! They were just trying to find a joke and they locked onto it, they don’t think anyone looks like what they said, Jesus H Christ none of us look like animals. Least of all you y/n!”

You blinked away the last sentence, pinning it again for later, like your brain couldn’t be split between conflicting emotions, but unfortunately was picking the negative ones to experience now. The negative ones to experience with Eddie, and the positive ones for when you were alone. Christ couldn’t you be positive and happy when you were around people you loved instead today? “Look I’m not mad at them okay Eddie?” You spoke up. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to yell at them or something for me. I mean I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, it made me feel nice but-“

“What? I’m not mad. Y/n-“ Eddie strode close and took your hands softly in his, flipping them over and grazing them in his own calloused touch, holding them warmly. “I’m not even trying to talk about them right now. They were being little dicks yesterday but they were just messing around. You know I know you’re beautiful don’t you? I mean, I do have eyes.” He chuckled softly only on that last sentence. The first and only time he hadn’t seemed serious apart from when he finally saw you. Almost like you relaxed him, made him feel good, better.

But now your brain was pushing away the positivity, that was becoming more in volume than the negativity, on purpose. Because it stuck onto one part that it could warp, and stab into you like a knife.

“Look Eddie I really appreciate you, and you know I love you.” You squeezed his hands softly, and Eddie looked like he was melting at your touch. His cheeks seemed softer, slightly pinker as they raised in an honest to god smile, medium sized, but perfect to the situation. And you both took a step closer to the other, not knowing each other would do the same. Still a parting, but wrists resting on your own stomachs. “But you don’t have to say that, I know yesterday you got kinda screwed over and tried to take it back and it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad or-“

“Y/n stop!!” Eddie snapped, shocking you a little as you jumped. Eddie held your hands closer in apology, pulling your wrists so near your hands were in his stomach now. “I mean Jesus Christ! Y/n. You are beautiful. I meant it yesterday and I mean it now. And I’ve always known it. Maybe I should’ve said it more but...” Eddie used one conjoined hand to shift back his curls in his face, huffing out quickly. You could feel how hot his poor forehead was becoming as he moved so.

“You are beautiful. You’re gorgeous.” His brown eyes looked deeply into yours, open, and face contorted in a mixture of confusion, but being pure, and fully unendingly loving, as he held you close. Hands smoothing down your shoulders, shaking as they tried to keep you from running, tried to soothe you into his words. Like a charm roll a bard would throw for a restless dragon.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever been graced enough to lay my fucking eyes on.” His tongue darted out, eyes blinking sheepishly as he kept looking right at you. “Why don’t you see that, all the time?” Pain and confusion. That’s what was in his voice. Love and fear mixed into all his touches, hands smoothing over your back and shoulder blades in his need to fidget and be touching you, someone he always wanted to never not be touching, ever since the moment you first lit up when talking to him. That’s the only thing he ever saw when he looked at you, and he just couldn’t fathom a world where you somehow didn’t see the exact same thing, staring blatantly obviously back.

“Because I’m not!” You wriggled harshly out of his grip, the genuine hurt in Eddie’s eyes, only fuelling the burst of passion you were having. “I’m not anything! I’m not anything good, Eddie!” You were yelling, no one had seen you yell before, least of all Eddie. And Eddie teetered on nervous feet, worried about reaching out for you, but scared of what you’d do if he didn’t ground you.

Your breath felt ragged, head pounding. “I look at myself, I think about myself, and all I can feel, is how ugly, and disgusting I am.”

Pure and simple shock was spread across Eddie’s features. The kind of disappointed shock where he couldn’t understand how, or why you’d ever felt this way. Eddie was heartbroken.

“Whenever I remember this body I’m in, I want to cry because I feel like nothing good is deserved for someone as fucked up as this. I feel sick in my own skin. Every cell of me feels wrong, and that’s how I live. Terrified that someone’s going to look at me, someone who’s seen me a thousand times, and suddenly see this me that’s just a monster when you look again.” Your hand was to your heart, and you were crying now. Tears itching that disgusting skin people should wash their hands after touching. God you felt awful getting it out there, this was bullshit.

Anger was about to start seeping into Eddie too, just a little, grief and heartbreak was overtaking him right now. “Is this to do with what the guys said?”

You were hyperventilating now. Very aware of breaking down in front of your crush, and unable to breathe because you were crying so hard. Terror striking you from speaking the truth, because your best friend would see you that way now. Upon his words, a gasp bubbles through the saliva in your throat, but before you could answer Eddie finshed.

“I’m going to knock their teeth in.” Eddie felt hot tears in his eyes. He’d let you go home thinking about this. You were hurting. “I don’t care that they’re stupid, I’m going to tell them all that-“

“No!” You finally got close to Eddie again, your hands the only strong part of either of you as you lightly gripped his forearm. “No it’s not their fault.” You knew Eddie would only drag them somewhere and knock their heads together, but you didn’t want him guilting your friends, you didn’t want them hurt. You didn’t want them to know either. “It’s not them. I’ve always felt like this.”

Eddie felt lost. Eddie was crushed. His whole face collapsing to show it. His tears dripped onto his shirt, defeated by them. The white staining in the hollow hallway as he just looked at you, about as broken as you feel. ”But why?”

Eddie was genuinely confused. And it made your heart skip. To the point it felt so good, it was painful.

This whole conversation was painful. Your head dropped as your tears slunk to the floor, Eddie gripping your wrists in return, before pulling you warmly into a hug. Eddie’s embrace so tight, so scared to break you but needing you to stay, safe, with him, so you wouldn’t. Eddie would never let you break. He promised to himself now to always pick up your pieces before you could fully fall apart. Eddie would never let that happen, not on his watch. Not when you were under his oath. He sniffed, licking up his tears as he nuzzled his cheek into your head. Dreaded mumbles falling from his lips with small cries. Even his hips pressed to yours, his feet entangling thoughtfully, so you couldn’t fall, or retreat, just hugging you.

“I just. I don’t know.” You sobbed once. “I’m sorry.”

“Ssh. Don’t you dare apologise.” Eddie stroked the wetness away from your head, into his hand. “I’ll kick your ass.” He kisses your head instead, heart delighting, but not enough to give a smile, as you laughed at that. Hearing your small purr of a giggle was enough to tell himself to keep going, that he was doing an alright job.

“Sorry.”

Eddie pressed a hard kiss into your temple, growling lightly at you. Clearly still teasing you though. For once you didn’t have a single fear Eddie was mad at you. You could just breathe out laughs, even as you were crying. “I don’t know. Don’t you see that? See that... see an ugly duckling, in me?” You asked genuinely. For once your brain didn’t give you a million versions of the future, you just felt blank as you waited for his answer. It was peaceful.

As Eddie thought, he grazed against your head. Lips nibbling your skin, and your hair caught there, laughing lightly back when he felt another round of your chuckles, vibrating through his own chest, his warm hand smoothing down your back. He loved that feeling. He always wanted to make you laugh, but now he resolved to do so as he had your chest pressed against him, all the time. “I’ve... since the first moment I saw you, I’ve always thought you were jaw-droppingly stunning.” He revealed.

You felt conflicted, your heart pulled, brain just... not able to picture him seeing you like that. But you knew he wasn’t finished, and he held you impossibly closer, always being able to tell what you were feeling, even if it could be irritatingly accurate.

“But... the more I fell in love with you, the more and more I just kept seeing you as someone so perfect, it felt like the sun lit up her hair through every window on purpose. To shine down on her specifically. That the weather was made that day, so she could wear an outfit that made your legs, and stomach, and arms, and hands, look so desirable to hold. Someone who’s smile literally made the people around her smile for the rest of their entire day, and how that kinda magic could only be possible from you. That every day I’d see a different person spin around and do a double take at you with that look on their face, that look because they know they’ve just walked past the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and they’ll never get that chance again to brush past your shoulder, and meet-cute you, ever. And that I’m the luckiest man on this earth, because somehow, through your own kindness, and through the wind and the sun and our peers and the earth beneath our feet and stardust that made everything, I was lucky enough to be someone, who gets to see someone so beautiful, every single day.”

Eddie breathed out. His brown eyes warm in yours. His touch craving. His body glowing after all that.

And there were no words. A white sheet in your mind and a white glow over your body. You only knew you felt light, you felt... right. And your heart was full. And the thing that kept circling over and over in your mind, finally spoke out.

“You love me?”

Eddie’s breath collapsed in his laugh. Full and hearty, and the tears in his eyes were now spilt because of how they crinkled, smile spreading to his cheeks and his warm palms cupped your own cheeks, like he was so grateful to be able to hold you safe like this, like he was so happy to have your face beating in his hands. “Of course I do. I love you y/n. I’m madly in love with you! I love you so much it’s consumed every part of me and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you more than fucking anything! I love you more than anything y/n!”

“I love you too!” The air tasted different when you gasped, Eddie’s heart swelling was something you could see throughout his entire body, as his chest rose and his feet curled, and his eyes warmed, and his lips opened in such a smile. You took Eddie’s face in your own hands and everything fit together perfectly. He was so warm, so full of life, so Eddie, and so full of love for you. Eddie was the love of your life, and you could hold his tear ridden smile in your hands.

Eddie leant in close, using his hands to pull you further as his open lips spread, and your eyes fluttered stickily shut as you just smiled leaning in. Finally having his full, wet lips slotting against yours, and feeling each other’s smiles into the kiss, as you felt him kiss you like it was the best memory he’d ever make.

He pulled you in closer, almost tripping over your own feet as his hands on your cheek coerced you, but only one foot slipping, as you kissed him deeper. Lovingly moulding his lower lip that wanted to live in your mouth, and feeling his thick upper one kiss you back with so much deep adoration. Affection and love oozing out of Eddie as he kissed you happily. Sweet sounds coming from the both of you as your hands curled in his dark hair by his ears, and his cradled your nape and your lower back. Cheeks brushing and noses nuzzling, as you sweetly tasted each other, kissing like it was the only thing that was right in this world.

Finally, after stopping a little, and feeling Eddie’s nose nuzzle and brush at you in return, you pulled back. Eddie having literally stolen your breath away. You both backed up just an inch, just enough to see each other, and you were both beaming smiles through the warm sun rays. Eddie leant in to kiss you again, this time a small peck that you reciprocated, both his lips sweetly pressing against yours, and you could just tell they were Eddie Munson’s lips.

A noise of deep happiness and satisfaction finally broke the air and Eddie couldn’t help but nose at your cheek playfully again. “That was even better than I imagined.” He fondly grinned.

You tilted your head, wrapping both your arms around Eddie’s neck, as you felt a different energy, making a home in your new home. “You imagined kissing me before?”

Eddie went momentarily bright red. Before he remembered it was you he was with, and it was okay to be this vulnerable because you loved him too. “‘F course!” He sang. “Although minus the crying.”

You burst into laughter, Eddie following along as you rubbed at your drying tears, stomach fluttering as Eddie’s calloused fingers went to softly swipe at your cheekbones instead, the warm metal of his rings from how clammy his hands were, actually feeling nice as he brushed them away, “Pretty princess...” Getting at his own tears with his sleeve before you could return the favour. “Yeah.” He took both your cheeks in his hands again, before he leaned in to kiss you once more. Then your two red cheeks, and he leaned back and smiled, then both your eyes, still smiling, as he just had to look at you again “Can’t have my gorgeous girl crying. Never.”

Somehow, that didn’t start it again. Your lip wobbled but no tears came, only as Eddie kissed your nose fondly, was your movement to hold his face back, squeezing those adorable cheeks as you kissed all over his face. Every single inch got covered in your loving kisses, and feeling Eddie’s excited giggles fanning so close on your skin just made you kiss his lips over, and over, and over, and Eddie kiss yours, over, and over again. Your “I love you Eddie”’s being caught in between each and every kiss. Only stopping when Eddie pulled back to look at you, so happy in his hand, so he could smile at the sight of you. “My beautiful y/n.”

You two both skipped school that day eventually anyways. Only this time, as you walked hand in loveable hand down the empty hallways, not looking at each other only and purely because you were too busy kissing to have your eyes open, you were leaving to spend your first moments together as a couple.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson hurt/comfort #protective eddie munson #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things #Hellfire Club #fic #dustin henderson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #slight miscommunication #crush Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #negative body image issues #Eddie Munson/reader

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theflowerrooms · 1 year ago

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to request • Eddie’s masterlist • main masterlist

Lingering Discomfort

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary; usually you and your boyfriend Eddie are all over eachother, but after an awful experience with a stranger, you can’t handle anyone’s hands on you

wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: descriptions of sexual assault and lingering affects of it, light angst, Eddie’s so sweet and lovely

another request from the lovely @tracymbcm, thank you so much for requesting <3

It was yesterday, when you were at the bookstore, standing in between the fantasy and horror isles at the bookstore when someone tapped on your back, between your shoulder blades. It was a man, significantly older than you but not elderly by any means, he was incredibly average looking man, apart from the scary grin he wore on his face, and his beady eyes that stared at your chest rather than your face.

"Don't see many pretty young girls listening to Metallica." He smirked at the band tee you wore and your heart raced with anxiety. You wondered if he could tell the shirt was too big for you, if he could tell it was a man's shirt- Eddie's. "What's your favourite song by them honey?" He asked and the petname made you feel sick.

"Um-" "Um!" He cut you off mocking you and you pouted, backing up, wiping your sweaty palms on the sides of your skirt.

"I don't- I don't listen to them. My boyfriend, he loves 'em." You didn't talk more than that and you almost flinched at the very unsubtle way the corner of his lip rose in irritation.

"That right? How old is he?" He asked, a step closer to you as you took one back. Your eyes watered as you realized any further back and you'd just be trapped against the bookcase.

"He's twenty." You hoped he didn't see your lip tremble, you hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating so fast.

"Twenty? See young guys- little boys like that don't know how to treat their girls." That's all that was said before the situation escalated and ended with you running out of the store crying. He didn't do anything more than grab your ass, but it was revolting.

You took deep breaths before you pulled out of the parking lot. Your first instinct was to drive to Eddie's house, cry into his chest and complain about the creep in the bookstore. You could see him in your head, hugging you, rocking you as he kissed the crown of your head. You didn't understand why the thought of that made you uncomfortable, you just didn't want to be touched again. What you needed was a shower, and then bed.

✽-

The next morning, Eddie picked you up as usual, he did every morning. Usually you loved it, getting to spend time with him before you started your day, and it got him to school on time, not wanting to make you late. Today you'd rather walk, every car ride Eddie would stroke your thigh, kiss you at every stop sign, squeeze in a quick make out session before you left the car.

You avoided all that. Grabbing his freehand and holding it so it wouldn't venture to your legs, fake yawning and leaning your head against the window with your eyes closed, too tired to kiss. You left his van before he got the chance to try and make out with you.

He did call you pretty, and cute in the span of three minutes, which brought a smile to your face, especially since you didn't feel pretty or cute, wearing a loose fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants instead of the skirt and tighter top you normally would've worn, too uncomfortable to wear anything very revealing.

He walked with you into the school, slightly behind you like he usually did and you distanced yourself just slightly, so his hand wouldn't find the small of your back.

You chewed your lip as you turned around to face him. "'M gonna go talk to Robin before class." You smile softly, albeit anxiously at him, but he didn't read into it too much thankfully.

"Alright baby, tell her I said hey." He grinned and you nodded, guilty you hadn't been giving him the same attention and intimacy you normally would. He leaned forward to kiss you and you turned your head, he was fine with just kissing your cheek. "You okay baby?" He asked, glassy brown eyes searching your own. You told him you were, and you both knew you were lying, but he didn't press it.

You swallowed thickly as you turned from him, wiping the invisible kiss off of your face when you knew he couldn't see you, walking on shaky legs until you found Robin.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked, and you sighed, shrugging even though you knew. Her eyes burned into yours until you leaned against the lockers with a pout. Finally you told her what happened.

She scoffed. "Men. So many of them are fucking creeps, I thank the gods every day for the fact that I swing the other way." She rolled her eyes with a grimace on her face that matched the one that was starting to grow on your own. "Was Eddie with you?" She asked and you shook your head. "That's- well maybe that's a good thing. He would've totally lost his shit." She laughed.

That last sentence stuck with you. Why would Eddie be mad? It wasn't your fault. But then maybe it was, you could've moved away sooner, told him to stop, you could have just not interacted with him in the first place and moved on. And now Eddie would be mad at you.

✽-

It stuck in your head until lunch. And when it was lunch, you felt anxious again. You felt so guilty, especially seeing Eddie smile so big the second he saw you. When you reached the hellfire table, you pulled your usual seat a few inches away from him, so you wouldn't be pressed flush against him like usual.

You sat and he wrapped his arm around you like usual, so you leaned forward letting his arm rest on the back of your chair, that was fine.

Things were okay for the next ten minutes. You got less anxious, joining in on the conversation, things seemed normal again, despite the lack of Eddie's tongue down your throat which was common for every other lunch period.

Suddenly that normalcy ended. "You're too far baby." Eddie tsked, easily picking you up and putting you in his lap, arm over your lap and gripping the underside of your thigh, the same place that old man's hand was less than a day ago.

You leaped up without thinking, heart racing, all the eyes of hellfire on you. "Stop! Stop- just don't- don't want you touching me." Your voice shook, and tears welled in your eyes when Eddie's smile fell completely. You mistook the concern on his face for anger and you bolted, you didn't go far, only to the library, you'd favourite place in Hawkin's High, save for Eddie's arms.

You sat in the back on a soft chair, you weren't there long before Eddie found you. He kneeled in front of you, making himself look small as he peered up at your teary eyes. He placed his hand on the arm of the chair, not on your skin.

"I talked to Robin baby, do y'wanna talk about what's bothering you?" His eyes didn't look angry like you thought they would, only sweet and inviting. His lips turned to match the pout on your face, he always did it and it made you giggle, you felt your lips twitch with the beginning of a smile. It was hard to stay upset around Eddie.

"Are you mad?" You asked and his eyes immediately widened, curls swaying with his head as he shook it.

"Of course not sweet girl, I could never be mad at you baby. Especially not for something that wasn't your fault." He assured you. Immediately the guilt in your chest floated away. "Do you wanna talk to me about it baby?" He tilted his head and you nodded.

"Yesterday, at the bookstore there was this older guy." Your lip trembled. "He was askin' about my shirt 'n he called me pretty. Then he started asking about you when I told him I have a boyfriend. He said twenty year olds dunno how to please girls, and he- and he touched me." You brought your knees to your chest as the tears on your waterline started to drip over your cheeks.

Eddie's jaw tensed. "Where did he touch you?" It was tearing him apart to not be able to hold you right now, wipe away your tears. But he understood there was a new boundary as a result of what happened, and he'd respect that, keep his hands to himself until he knew it was okay to touch you again.

"He rubbed my leg- 'n he grabbed my butt." You whispered, he didn't look angry, upset yes, worried, absolutely, but he wasn't mad. "I told Robin about it 'n she said if you were there you would've lost your shit." You kept your voice down and he shook his head quickly again.

"No- no baby, well, yes. But I wouldn't have been mad at you at all, just at that guy. It's not okay for him to go around touching girls, 'specially my girl. But that's not your fault baby, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise you did good, and I'm not mad at you at all." He promised and you sniffled.

There was a beat of silence before you threw yourself from the chair onto your knees, burying your face in his chest. His arms immediately squeezed you close to him, brushing your tears away gently.

"How about we skip the rest of our classes today, head to that bookstore, 'n I'll buy you whatever book you didn't get to buy yesterday. And if that guy's there, you point him out and he and I can have a little talk, I'll make sure he doesn't touch you, or anyone else like that again, hm?" His voice was soft, calm as he pet your hair and you nodded.

"I love you." "I love you"

You didn't see that guy again when you went to the bookstore later on, Eddie's arm protectively hooked around you through each isle. He got you your book, and you even got to read the first couple of chapters to him in his arms that night.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #petalwrites #slight angst #hurt/comfort #sa warning #fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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tyrian-witch · 2 months ago

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Some B.S.

(Steve x Reader)

Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles

Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf

A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me

~~~

“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”

Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.

Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”

“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.

~~~

Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.

Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.

He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.

You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”

Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.

“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”

“Yeah? A milkshake?”

You nod.

He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”

~~~

You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.

“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

You nod while sipping on the drink.

He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.

“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”

Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”

You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”

“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”

“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.

“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”

Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.

“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”

Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.

“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”

You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.

“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.

Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”

You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”

You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”

Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.

“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”

Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.

The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.

The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #hurt/comfort #fluff #slight angst #slight vent

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queer-little-demigod · 5 months ago

Text

i wish i were special - clarisse la rue

summary glory matters more to her than you do.

fic type angst/hurt

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!hades!reader

word count 1k

warnings clarisse being mean, neglect, sadness, hurt, breakup, implied su!c!de

masterlist

That evening in the Hades cabin was lonely as per usual. You sat there, feeling stupid as you stared at the black candles flickering their orange light against the silver candleabra you had so painstakingly found out from the lost-and-found (ironically).

The dinner had been set, with Clarisse's favourite pasta with meat sauce, and two glasses of cranberry juice. All for her.

It had started with shying away from your touch in public, passing a comment here and there. But over time it got harder and harder to ignore.

Why didn't you do anything, Y/n? You might be thinking.

You just couldn't bring yourself to tell her she was being shitty, because more often than not she'd dedicate a win to you. With a speech, her lips on your skin, her hands on your body.

But ever since Percy came to camp, it’s always been about glory. It’s always been about being one step ahead of that random little twelve year old who just had a bout of good luck (in Clarisse’s opinion) and killed a Minotaur on his first monster encounter?

It was obviously more than that, too, but it still hurt the same.

It hurt even more that you had planned this date all by yourself, when she knew what a problem attachment and intimacy was to you, and she just didn’t show up.

You had poured your heart and soul into this, a way to show her how much you love her. A way to show her that you cared and weren’t just some unemotional Hades kid like everyone else thought you were. You actually wanted to show that you were different from everyone, not just the girls, because your godly parent, for the last eight years, had dictated how people saw you. How they assumed you were.

You gave up after a while, and lay back in your bed, staring at the ceiling after blowing out the candles on the little desk you made a makeshift dinner table.

‘What did I do wrong?’ Was your only question. ‘Was she tired of me?’ ‘Am I too much for her?’ ‘Is it because I’m a Hades kid?’

Little by little, you felt your heart break. Like a sculptor’s stone being chipped away bit by bit to make a painful masterpiece. You loathed having such a godly parent, you wished with all your might that things were different.

That maybe you were still special to her.

The next day, she came up to you with excitement. “Y/n, baby guess what—“

You didn’t want to hear it. Your whole body screamed at you to leave that situation, to walk away, make her feel shitty the way she made you feel shitty.

But you just couldn't.

You thought it would mzke you too vengeful, thought it would potray you as petty. It was just a missed date, she could've been busy, she forgot to tell you.

Intentional or not, it still hurt.

"That's amazing," you smiled tightly, resisting the urge to slide out of her touch as she swung an arm across your shoulders.

You loved her, but why did her touch feel like it was knives dragging down your skin? Why did it feel like she was not your girlfriend, but an outsider? An outsider who was trying to touch you.

She was just a stranger wearing your lover's face.

Three days later, it happened again.

You sat at the campfire alone, feeling far too shy to talk to the other campers, noticing how they shuffled away from you or formed such close-knit groups that you were physically excluded as well. How they whispered and stopped when you came. You saw it all. It sucked.

But what sucked the most was Clarisse not saying a single thing against it. How she, too, stayed with her group, not bothering to include you in any way whatsoever.

Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong again? Why was she doing this?

You saw that unlike usual, she didn't come to you in the evening to stargaze or just talk. She was at the training grounds. Again.

You understood that the battlefield was her temple, her spear her idol, the battlecry her prayer, but you also wished that you were as special to her as you once were.

You were a battlefield, but just the aftermath. The battlefield when it was littered with bodies, blood clumping up the soil and the air hanging heavy with the stench of death.

But you wanted more. You wanted something different.

You wanted to be the battlefield she was so devoted to. You wanted to be the spear she was with every evening, you wanted to hear the loving prayers she whispered to her spear once she finished her training.

Was it the loving prayers you wanted or the sound of her voice in that sweet tone once again? The tone which held all the adoration the world of war could offer, all the gentleness a child of the fierce battle could provide.

You wished you were special.

"Clarisse, you wanna hang out this evening?" You asked her again the following night.

"Can't," she said after ushering her friends away. Atleast she still valued private conversation.

"Why not?"

"I'm busy,"

"Doing what?"

"Why do you need to know?"

The way she snapped that last sentence, it made something in your heart ache. She knew you hated it when she snapped at you. She knew that you did feel lonely.

She knew it all.

You stared at the ground and sighed softly, "I don't,"

"Exactly," she scoffed. "Stop being so clingy, Y/n."

Clingy? Were you...was this her actual thought? Every time she said she loved it when you spent time with her...was it a lie? A petty lie sold to the naive, lonely Hades kid?

"Sorry," you shrugged, "I'll stop asking," you punctuated your sentence by turning around and walking off.

Why didn't she call back for you?

Why didn't she run after you?

Why weren't you special?

The next week went by the same. She would say she'd show up, she wouldn't, you'd ask, you'd be insulted. Over and over and over again.

One night, after you had spent another evening alone, you took a deep breath in and tapped on her shoulder, stating firmly, "We need to talk, Clarisse."

She was shocked. Shocked by the fact that you used her full name. You never used her full name. Ever.

You felt your palms sweat, your mind race, and your whole body almost seize up with nerves.

"Look, I get that you want glory in the upcoming capture the flag, you want glory at camp, you want glory in some quest or the other," you firmly stated. "But is glory worth more than me?"

A small, amused smile spread over her lips. "Is someone jealous?"

"Don't fucking tease me," you snapped, having had enough. "I'm not jealous, I'm--I'm angry. I hate being angry, but I especially hate being angry at you."

"Me? What did I do?"

An incredulous laugh escaped your lips. "What did--what did you do? How about we focus on what you didn't do?"

"Didn't--? Get to the point!"

"So you don't remember the missed dates, forgotten evenings, times where I wanted to talk but you called me--" You inhaled deeply, keeping yourself from bursting into tears. "You called me clingy or annoying or attention-seeking. I have ignored your shitty treatment for far too long Clarisse!"

Your heart ached as you saw her deadpan expression, her emotionless gaze. You felt your throat close up. You were in the middle of the ocean, salt water filling your lungs, stealing the breath out of them.

"I think you're overthinking it," she shrugged.

The water vanished. Now all that remained was fire. A new fire that coursed through your normally cold veins, that made you see red. It took everything in you not to punch her in the face.

"Really? You said that I was special," you snarled, glaring at her. "You said you'll never leave me alone, you'll never make me believe the bad thoughts in my head, and now I see that it's exactly what you do!"

Her silence is what hurt the most. She wasn't denying it, she wasn't apologising.

"Clarisse, don't you know how I feel? When I try to talk to people, they turn their heads with an awkward smile. When I walk into a room, people stop talking or laughing. When I sit near people they shuffle away, and for what? Because my father is the god of the dead. I'm punished day and night for something that I can't fucking control.

"You were the one who got me. You made me feel wanted, you made me want to wake up and live to see another godsforsaken day! But now..." you looked at the ground. No, you glared at the ground. You couldn't see her face.

"I always emerge victorious in the end," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Gods, you wanted those hands to hold you close and wipe your tears away.

You felt your heart break. "What?"

"I always emerge victorious in the end. Glory is what I live for," she said plainly.

Each word felt like a stab to the gut. Each word cut through you like a knife, like her spear tip cut through the training dummies in the arena.

"Glory matters more than me?" You whispered, looking up at her.

Clarisse felt her heart break at the look in your eyes.

You looked...hollow. Empty, a shell of a person. There was no twinkle in your eye, there wasn't the flash of laughter within them that she always saw. They didn't glow with an aura of love.

Empty. Like every child of the god of the dead would have seemed to be.

"Glory matters more than everything,"

"You said I was your everything,"

"Did you note the past tense, death girl?"

You didn't want to reply. You couldn't. You refused to talk to her after that sentence. Death girl?

If this is what love is, you didn’t want it.

Why did glory matter more to her than you did? You probably would never find out.

You wished you were special.

And you would just have to keep on wishing.

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #x fem!reader #pjo #wlw #gl #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue x y/n #angst #hurt #slight tw #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue gif

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upon-a-starry-night · 5 months ago

Note

There's this idea in my head that's causing real brain rot. So that one time, when Connor and Hank are on the rooftop, and he almost kills Hank? Can I request something like that, but with an f! reader? Maybe f! reader is on the deviant's side, and Amanda has already taken over, as a result, fight ensues. Major hurt/comfort. You choose how this ends. Thank you in advance 😭

Connor Rk800 x Gender Neutral Reader!

DBH Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, minor violence

A/n: I always thought Connor should’ve had another chance to become deviant at this rooftop scene so this is the perfect opportunity to write it! I hope you enjoy!

The night air is cold as you step out onto the roof, a distant alarm blaring as it fights to be heard against the harsh wind.

You flinch and pull your coat tighter, watching your breath fog out in front of you, snow scattering in every direction. It’s a night you’d rather be spending in the warmth of your home, curled up with a good book and good company. Unfortunately, your good company chose to go bad cop on you and now you’re out here trying to get him back.

You can already feel your fingers growing numb and you regret not bringing gloves up here with you. As if life being a detective wasn’t hard enough.

You squint at the light illuminating from the giant Android billboard and instead focus your gaze on the figure near the edge of the roof. It’s the last place you want to see him right now. On this roof- on the wrong side of history. Making a mistake you know he’ll regret.

It’s all you can do to hope you’ll be able to convince him to come back.

You don’t know what happened. One day he’s kind and funny and even a little flirty and the next he’s cold and calculating. Had he just been pretending the whole time? Did he tell you all those sweet things just to eliminate you as a threat to his mission?

Whatever the reason, even if he was faking it with you you weren’t faking it with him. Over the past few months, you’ve formed a genuine connection with Connor. A connection you thought was more than just partners working on the same case.

You think back to all those late nights Connor stayed up with you as you wrote your reports, cracking jokes so the police precinct felt a little less cold and dim. The time he helped you move your furniture after your previous apartment almost got broken into. The little moments where he’d walk you to your car no matter the time, or go out of his way to pick you up a coffee.

That couldn’t have been fake, right? Nobody went through that much effort just to make sure you were friends. It was because of the way he treated you and cared for you that you found yourself in love with him in the first place.

You sucked in a sharp breath and shook that thought from your head. You’d only just realized it last night. You’d planned to tell him today but something about him was different, he didn’t look at you the same way, though his body still lingered near yours. Then you’d gotten the call this evening about where he was headed and you knew you had to stop him.

The Connor you knew wouldn’t do this. But maybe the Connor you knew wasn’t real…

“You don’t want to do this Connor” He doesn’t even flinch at your voice. He probably heard you from the second you got there and was just waiting for you to say something.

Perhaps that was a sign? Your Connor was always polite with you.

“You shouldn’t be here, Detective.” His voice bites at you with more coldness than the night air and it makes your heart sting. It’s a tone you’ve only ever heard him use with suspects or Gavin. Even when you first met and he seemed devoid of emotion his voice was warm, friendly. What happened?

Was it something you had done? Something you said that gave away your feelings about him? He was built to read body language and pick up on subtle clues after all. Had he known even before you? Was he disgusted by you? That a human like you could fall so easily for an Android?

He shifts the position of his gun, getting a better shot on Marcus and you take another step forward, if you could just reach him then maybe-

“You won’t stop me from accomplishing my mission.” Him and his stupid mission. It’s all he ever used to talk about before he started being open with you. You thought you’d become more important than his mission. Guess not.

“What mission Connor? What? You think you shoot this guy and it’s all over? The whole rebellion falls down? Is that it?” You scoff, shoving your hands into your coat pockets to try and garner some warmth. “You shoot Marcus, someone else will just take his place. Do you really want to spend your life hunting down Androids until you’re the only one left with a soul?”

He doesn't speak but you see the way he squeezes the gun tighter, your words clearly having an internal impact.

“Come home Connor,” You say it out of instinct, your home had become a shared space with Connor, a place he knew you’d always welcome him into. “We can find a good movie and-”

“And what? Huh? Sit there and pretend like we could be anything other than a human and a machine?” His words cut deep, slicing your heart open and revealing all the ugly fears that had been festering in your brain. The urge to throw up fills your stomach but you push the feeling down.

What Connor thought you could or couldn’t be didn’t matter right now. Even if it hurt, you had to make sure you stopped him no matter what.

He places his finger on the trigger and you know you have to resort to the last thing you wanted to do. The last thing you thought you’d ever do to Connor. You pull out your gun and aim it at his back. Emotions well up in your throat as tears threaten to break free

“Get away from the ledge” You wish he couldn’t hear how your voice trembles but you know he does. You don’t know if you have the gall to shoot him and he knows that. Still, he stands up and turns around to face you anyway.

It’s the worst sight in the world- the image of him in front of the barrel of your gun. His eyes are cold and unrecognizable, and you take note of the fact that he doesn’t drop his gun. A strong breeze roars through and you shiver, watching the wind ruffle his hair.

The same hair he used to let you brush your fingers through as you spent hours talking on your couch. His head in your lap, his eyes closed, his LED spinning blue, and a content smile on his face. You remember wanting to take a picture of how cute he looked then, just like a happy puppy.

Oh, how things change.

Your hand shakes as you hold the gun, maybe from the cold, maybe from the anguish, probably from both.

“Go home detective. It’s not my mission to kill you but this is none of your business” You nearly flinch at the word ‘kill’ but manage to hold your resolve. You couldn’t show weakness in front of this version of Connor.

You scoff, “None of my business? You call you killing an innocent man none of my business?”

“It’s not a man. It’s a machine-”

“He has a family! He has people who care about him and depend on him! He has a partner and friends! Like you and I were-”

“We weren’t anything but coworkers Detective. If you thought we were more, you were mistaken.” He cuts you off with the words you feared to hear more than anything. Words he promised you he’d never say when he told you “I’ll always be here for you detective” with that stupid sunny smile of his.

Wiping a tear with your shoulder, you shake your head as you try to get a read on him.

”you don’t mean that”

“I think I do” He tilts his head, in a way you always found cute but now just find menacing.

“I can’t let you kill that man Connor” You tighten your hold on your gun and he narrows his eyes, sizing up whether or not he thinks you’ll shoot before going to put his gun down.

Your body relaxes slightly only to be met with the full force of his gun being thrown at you. You try to block it but it crashes into your arm, causing you to hiss out in pain. In the next second Connor is coming at you, disarming your gun and throwing it across the roof.

You try to throw a punch but he swiftly blocks it, grabbing hold of your shoulder and throwing you to the ground. The impact is harsh and the cold only makes it worse. You can already feel the nasty bruise it’s going to leave but you don’t allow yourself time to dwell on it.

Grabbing a metal grate from nearby you launch it at Connor and use it as a moment of distraction, rushing towards your gun near the ledge of the roof with Connor hot on your heels.

Connor sweeps your legs from under you as you’re inches from the gun, sending you crashing to the ground in a fall that stings your palms. At least it helped that your hands were practically numb from the cold.

Army crawling as hurriedly as you can, you manage to swipe your gun as it teeters precariously off the edge of the roof. In a motion that sends pain through your injured shoulder, you manage to flip onto your back and point your gun at Connor just as he stands directly over you.

For a brief second, you can’t help but think that Connor was taking it easy on you, but then he smirks like an asshole and your flame of hope dies out

“You really gonna shoot me, detective?” The cocky disbelief in his eyes is the most emotion you’ve seen from him all day and in a moment of weakness, you hesitate because you’ve seen that look when Gavin throws his fits about Androids or when the other detectives think they can do his job better than him. Cocky was an emotion Connor didn’t often show but it always made you laugh.

He takes advantage of your moment of hesitation, twisting your gun from your hands and throwing it off the roof. It lands with a solid ‘clack’ in the snow below. You try to sweep his feet but he blocks your legs with his arm, grabbing them and pushing them to the ground. He reaches down and grabs you by the collar of your sweater, angling you so that you're dangling over a fall that would definitely kill and for the first time, you truly feel scared of Connor.

You struggle in his grip to no avail, eventually giving up as you stare into his eyes for what might be the last time. You feel tired and angry and heartbroken and you don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. You let the wind rage around you as you hold out your arms, daring him to drop you.

“Moment of truth Connor…what are you gonna do?” You struggle to catch your breath as his LED violently flashes red. “You gonna kill me for trying to be a good friend?” You wait for anything to happen, for him to throw you off the roof or respond but all he does is stand there staring blankly. His LED goes crazy, flashing from red to blue to yellow and back again, like he’s having some sort of internal struggle.

His grip on you seems to loosen a bit and you inhale sharply “C-Connor” You cry out desperately and he gasps, his grip tightening as he pulls you into his body and clings tightly to you. He takes a few steps back from the roof, forcing your body to move with his as he brings you both back to safety.

His arms wrap around you in a tight embrace and you’re unsure what to feel until you hear his pained voice

“I’m sorry.” It’s more raw than you’ve ever heard it before and soon enough tears are streaming down your face as your arms reciprocate his hold. His hands clench tighter to your jacket at the sound of your sobs. “I’m so sorry i-” His voice breaks off and his chest starts shaking and you look up to see tears streaming down his face.

You’d never seen him cry before, you didn’t even know he was capable of it- and from the looks of it neither did he.

“A-amanda- she took control and I couldn’t-” His eyes refuse to focus on you, staring at the swirling snow behind you, so you release one arm to cup his face and bring his gaze down to yours. “I tried to kill you” He looks absolutely heartbroken at what he’s done and he quickly begins to scan you for injuries. His hands coming up to cup your jaw and tilt your face this way and that.

You manage a smile through your tears as you realize you have your Connor back. Relishing the gentle way he holds your face and the concern that never leaves his eyes as he looks over you.

“No harm no foul” You attempt a joke and Connor’s lips quirk up for the briefest moment before his gaze zeros in on your shoulder and he frowns

“I hurt you” You pursed your lips, unable to deny that fact but not wanting to ruin the moment. Reaching up, you wipe the tears from his cheeks with a gentle hand, watching as he leans into your touch.

“It’ll heal.” You tell him instead, just happy to be bruised and safe rather than dead. “What happened back there?” He looks like he wants to say more about your injury but after reading the look in your eyes he drops it.

“ I broke free. I was stuck in this frozen garden for so long. I couldn’t control my own body or words but then I heard your voice and I had to save you” You lay your head on his chest once more, feeling the steady flow of Thirium pumping through his body, the cold long forgotten from your mind.

He rests his chin upon your head, pulling you into a hug once again.

“You’re more important to me than any mission.” His voice trembles and it takes everything in you not to start crying again “I didn’t mean any of it- those awful things I said, I didn’t mean any of them… I Love you, Detective”

Your gaze snaps to Connors, a wide smile and a light blue blush dusting his cheeks. Those three words- three words ten minutes ago you were sure you’d never heard from him. You had to make sure you hadn’t misheard him

“What?” your heart pounded in your chest

“I said I love you, detective” This was really happening. Connor loved you back. You couldn’t help the tears that fell at the genuine emotion in his voice.

“I love you too, Connor” A delighted laugh escapes you as you pull him in for a kiss, soft cold lips meeting yours. Sure this wasn’t your ideal confession but with Connor, nothing ever went as planned, and that was perfectly fine with you “Now let’s go home, it’s freezing up here”

A/n: peep me watching the roof scene over and over to get this right (and also just to admire Connor) ~ Starry

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