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pappydaddy · 4 months ago

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made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her.

From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.

Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour.

��I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

“It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt.

Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.”

Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.”

“Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.”

Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself.

Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else.

“I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.”

“What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft.

“Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.”

“W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her.

They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him.

Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers.

The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over.

“Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.”

____

By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house.

A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car.

“You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair.

Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button.

“Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye.

He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.”

“You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.”

“Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face.

“I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.”

Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-”

Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live.

He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon.

Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more.

“Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night.

His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

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ladyofthenoodle · 1 year ago

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fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:

So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!

To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.

She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo.

So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.

Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.

Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.

She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.

Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.

When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.

Was he blushing?

Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—

He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.

Crash!

Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.

“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’

She scowled at him.

“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.

Right.

Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.

And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.

She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”

Alya looked unconvinced.

“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”

“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”

Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.

Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.

Marinette took several deep breaths.

“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”

Adrien smiled and nodded.

Alya shoved her forward.

Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.

Her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”

Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”

His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—

Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”

Adrien blinked.

“Bye!” She shooed him.

“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.

Nailed it.

“Girl, what the actual fuck?”

#miraculous ladybug #ml paris special #miraculous fanfic #marinette dupain-cheng #toxinelle #shadybug #noodles writes

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apute11as · 6 months ago

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Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

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bellesdreamyprofile · 3 months ago

Text

a baby miracle: part 3

You were officially due in a week. This was the last day where you and Benny were being generous hosts to your friends from the club as the doctors advised you not to exaggerate anything. To be fair, even instructing Benny how to bake the perfect dessert did a number on you, so you didn’t mind resting.

“Anyhow, if you need more clothes I got some, honey. Although just girls stuff.”, Betty laughed and grasped her juice glass, taking a sip from it. You nodded and lovingly patted her arm. “Do you guys know the gender yet?”

“Thank you, Betty.”, you said. “And no, we don’t. We thought to keep it as a surprise.”, you smiled and glanced out of the window, catching a glimpse of Johnny showing his car to Benny. “Also thank you for the car. I don’t think I would make it to the hospital on the motorcycle.”, you laughed and turned her way again.

She just shook her head. “Ain’t nothing to thank us for, darling. You guys are our family.”, Betty’s sincere words got to your heart, to the point were lucid tears were forming in your eyes. She took notice and smiled lovingly at you, grasping your hand.

“I remember my first pregnancy…”, Betty smiled at the memory and twirled her drink in the glass. You couldn’t help but smile at the story she was about to tell, your hands immediately found your baby bump.

“I was doin´ okay… I really wanted this baby and since Johnny and I were married, I assumed we were on the same page.”, your smile slowly faded away from your lips as the story started sounding a little too familiar to your own. “He left. Said he couldn’t do it— but then he came back to me— back to us.”

Silence followed up as you swallowed thickly, unsure whether or not to share your personal experience. “Benny wanted to leave too…”, you looked down, unable to meet her piercing gaze. “I convinced him to stay and he did… Just weeks ago we bought a little denim jacket for our little one.”, you chuckled and wiped away one stray tear.

“I’m scared, Betty.”, you revealed to her. “He’s been so perfect. But I’m afraid… I’m afraid that once the baby comes—“, you shook your head and lowered your gaze as a sob escaped your lips. Betty’s eyes widened in surprise.

“No, no, no, honey. It’s gonna be all good.”, she wrapped an arm around you and mentally cursed herself for bringing up that kind of story in your kind of state. “I just wanted to tell ya… Because look at Johnny with our girls. He’s an amazing father and you won’t have to worry about Benny, Y/N.”

You looked up and sniffled. “You think so?”

Betty smiled lovingly at you. “I know so.”, her smile widened as she suddenly remembered an event that occurred a week ago. “You know, last week someone made a huge deal about his wife being pregnant.”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“My Benny?”, you almost laughed at the scenario you created in your head. “What’d he say?”

“Well, you know me. I was smokin’ and chattin’ away when I heard glass breakin’ and shit.”, she explained, making you nod. “You know the usual things. But there was yelling too and it was Benny and some guy.”, Betty continued and glanced over her shoulder.

“Anyhow, in a nutshell, this guy was saying things about you and this little bundle of joy over here—“, she pointed at your bump. “And Benny gave him a lesson or two about messing with his family.”, the glint in her eyes made you believe there was more to her story, but for your sake she kept it short and simple.

You blinked at her and tapped your bump, almost in desperate need of a kick from your little baby. “That explains the bruises on his arm.”, you said absentmindedly.

Betty smiled at you lovingly as you had yet to realize the point she was trying to make. “He loves you, honey. The both of you. There will be disappointments along the way - for this ain’t no easy men to deal with. But the outcome at the end will be sweeter than you think.”

“You even got the license for this, man?”, Benny blew out the smoke from his cigarette and raised his eyebrows at Johnny. The older man laughed and shook his head, lighting his own cigarette. “I’m kidding.”

Benny leaned against the car and looked straight ahead, catching a glimpse of your smile from the window. His lips twitched at the way your dimples showed and your nose scrunched. He sighed and looked down.

“You’re overthinking it.”, he wordlessly turned his head to Johnny, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I ain’t thinking at all.”, Benny remarked and brought the cigarette to his lips. Johnny shook his head and moved to lean against his friend’s motorcycle.

“The day Betty told me she was pregnant, I ran away.”, Benny looked up at his words, feeling the familiar burning feeling in his chest. “I didn’t come back until three months later.”, his jaw clenched at the memory and kicked the cigarette butt away.

“I don’t wanna ask ya nothing, man. I don’t know what you went through with your Y/N, but let me tell ya something.”, Benny looked away again and swallowed thickly. “It’s gonna be alright. Everything is gonna turn out just fine.”

Benny shook his head at his words, keeping his gaze down. “I’m gonna be… A terrible father.”

Johnny’s brows furrowed as he grabbed another cigarette. “You? A terrible father? C’mon man.”

But his head kept shaking in disagreement. “I can’t provide for myself. I have no idea how I’ve provided for Y/N for this long. But for a kid? Someone that looks up to you?”, he grabbed another cigarette and glanced at his motorcycle. “I can’t.”

Johnny looked at him and all he could see was a broken man. Shoulders slung down, a wandering gaze and a frown on his lips. “You can. It’s done. I’ll tell ya what you can’t do right now, Benny.”, Johnny moved away from the motorcycle and walked closer to his friend. “You can’t leave her or the kid. So what? You don’t think I fuck up every now and then? It’s in the job description. It’s natural.”

Benny sighed and moved off the car. “You don’t understand nothing.”

“There ain’t nobody that understands this better than I do.”, Johnny knew what was going on in that messy head of his, which was why he was so keen on showing Benny the way. He didn’t want him to make the same mistake he did.

Benny pulled out the car keys he was given from Johnny and handed them back to him. “Give ‘em to Y/N. I gotta go. Clear my head.”, the older man grabbed the keys and wordlessly watched him take off on his motorcycle.

You usually weren’t too worried when Benny disappeared for half a day, but since the talk with Betty about all of your concerns, now you didn’t feel all too relaxed.

The bed was cold and the baby had been kicking more than usual - almost as if to tell you that it was time. Right on time you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, making you wince and grasp your baby bump in comfort.

“Ow, not now. Please not now.”, your voice was a little whisper above the occasional roaring motors from the cars outside. You slowly moved to sit up against the headboard and took a deep breath.

Benny hadn’t come home yet and the car was still parked outside. Could it be that he was gone for good? No. Not your Benny, no. Right?

Deciding to finally stand up and distract yourself, you passed by the now fully equipped nursery and smiled at the sight of teddy bears and colourful little clothes. Your baby was going to be a pretty little baby.

But the pain made you snap from the mental film you had created for yourself. You still made it downstairs with a dead grip on the railing. Sitting on the couch in front of the tv, you prayed for Benny to show up at the door at any moment. Whatever was happening to your body right now wasn’t supposed to be happening for a week.

“Alrighty baby. Hang in there.”, you murmured and reached over for the remote to turn on the tv. It was two in the morning, so you didn’t really have high hopes for any entertaining shows - just anything to make you forget about the pain.

One hour in and the shitty show had just finished and still no sight of your husband. The car keys, that Betty and Johnny had so kindly given to you, were calling your name as the pain increased.

Letting out another puff of breath, you grabbed the hospital bag you had prepared weeks prior and clumsily grabbed the car keys from the bowl.

Tears were streaming down your face as you adjusted the seat for yourself, pulling it closer to the steering wheel. Still no sight of Benny. You backed off the driveway and abruptly stopped as another contraction shook your body.

Your forehead met the steering wheel, the pain you were in making it impossible to keep calm. But you couldn’t give birth in the car. No, no, no. You had to make it to the hospital for the baby - with or without Benny.

With a heavy heart and abundant strength, you finally drove to the hospital, occasionally speeding or abruptly hitting the brakes as another contraction came through.

You hastily parked in the lot and looked at the hospital lights, sighing as more pain took over. Your eyes moved from the baby bag to your bump. How could you do this on your own? How?

“I can do this.”, you said shakily and brushed the tears off your face. “I’m strong and—“, you winced at another contraction. “I can do this.”

You let out a deep breath and got out of the car, taking the baby bag from the passenger seat. Wobbling like a little duck, you made your way to the reception, the woman’s eyes widened at the sight of your distressed self.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Cross and I’m very—“, you stopped, squeezing your eyes shut at the pain. “I’m very pregnant.”

The woman walked around the table and grasped the wheelchair, moving it towards you. “Please, take a seat. You’ll be seeing a doctor in just few moments.”

They made you change into the ugliest hospital gown you had ever seen. Your eyes darting to the door even when the doctors said it was now safe to push.

You still had the audacity to shake your head in protest. “I-I can’t. Not without my husband.”, you cried and the doctors exchanged worried glances.

A nurse approached you and gently put her hand on yours. You looked up and noticed a kind smile framing her face. “You can do this. If there’s anyone who can do this, it’s you.”

You shook your head and let out a scream at the pain. “I can’t without my Benny— Please call my Benny.”, your sobs filled the room and your head shook once more. But then there was the reminder from earlier. Do it for the baby.

I’m doing this for the baby.

When Benny came home at six a.m., something felt off. The lights were off and the car was gone from the driveway. Brows furrowed in confusion as he opened the door - it was unlocked.

No sights of robbery, just a television playing a shitty show and your nightgown on the couch.

Benny walked upstairs and felt his heart in his throat at the sight of your now empy bed.

Before he could think about any possible scenarios, the phone started ringing from downstairs. He didn’t waste any moment to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Where the fuck were you, man?”, the unmistakable voice was Johnny’s.

“What the hell do you want?”, Benny couldn’t stand a lecture so early on, especially since he didn’t know what to do at your missing presence.

He heard Johnny sigh. “It’s a girl.”

Benny’s throat went dry. “What?”

“Y/N gave birth. It’s a girl.”

A/N: currently on vacation! will edit this once I’m back with full on wifi - hope you enjoyed xx

MASTERLIST PART 4

#fanfiction #benny cross x reader #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross #imagine #the bikeriders

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stvrlightgirl · 4 months ago

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✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part one

part two ←

summary: Running into your new daughter’s teacher in the school hallway was a real surprise, and you can't help but feel certain feelings towards him. It’s a good thing, that you two seem to feel the same way about your little meeting.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: Reader’s daughter has her own name (Molly), fluff

wc:1,2k

a/n: I don’t know if it’ll be a series, but seeing how my previous post blewed up, it gave me motivation to finish this small shot.

Reblogs and comments are always welcome!

Enjoy!

„There will be a new teacher in school, mommy and he’s going to replace Mrs. Smith!” Molly told you one day when you were picking her up from school. Her little tiny hand swayed in yours as you made your way through the crowded hallway.

You smiled, sensing excitement in her voice. She always loved to meet new people. It was something she inherited certainly not from you.

„Oh, yeah, I remember. are you excited, bug?” You squeezed her hand affectionately, pushing the exit door with your other hand. The gentle wind blew against your face as you fished out the car keys from your trench coat.

„Yeah!” She nodded eagerly „I will miss Mrs. Smith tho, she was my favourite” her voice suddenly saddened. You smiled down at her, feeling a tug at your heart. Molly's attachment to her teacher was something that you were well aware of. She was just great with kids, always happy to see them. It was sad that she retired so soon.

“I know,” you replied softly as you unlocked the car and helped Molly into the backseat. “You'll miss her, but it's okay to feel that way.” You buckled her seat and reached with your hand to gently caress her little cheekbone. “I think that the new teacher will be super cool too.” You gave her forehead little kiss, and she giggled when your lips touched her face.

You walked around to the driver's side, settling into your seat and starting the car. The heater kicked in, chasing away the chill of the cool autumn afternoon. You took off your leather gloves to rub your hands together, seeking some warmth.

“What do you hope your new teacher will be like?” You spoke again after a moment of silence.

Molly pondered this for a moment, her tiny brow furrowed in thought. “I hope he’s nice like Mrs. Smith.” She said finally. “And funny. And smart.” She started counting on her fingers.

You chuckled softly, pulling out of the parking spot and making your way down the street. “Yeah, these are some good traits.” you agreed.

Molly continued to chatter away in the backseat, her voice still full of excitement. "What do you think he will look like, mommy?" she asked, her head popping up from the backseat.

You couldn't help but smile. Clearly, she was getting excited about the new situation. "Well, I can't say for sure, honey. We'll have to wait and find out." You gave her another smile from the rear view.

And he turned out great. Even better than you thought he would. A week later, when you were waiting for her in the school hallway, you watched in anticipation as the classroom door opened, and Molly came running out with a huge grin plastered on her face. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement as she made her way to you. As she got closer, you could see that her little cheeks were flushed pink, and her breathing was a bit ragged with the exertion of her run. When she finally reached you, she wrapped her tiny arms around your legs in a tight hug.

"Mom! You won't believe how great Mr. Lupin is!” she exclaimed, looking up at you with big, shining eyes. Her little hand found yours, and squeezed, while jumping around.

The hallway became full within a seconds, creating a chaotic scene, filled with bustling parents and swarms of excited children hurrying towards the school entrance.

You turned around, still holding Molly's hand, when the sound of the door closing behind you caught your attention. As you glanced over, you saw someone who you assumed was Mr. Lupin standing there, locking up the classroom. His eyes suddenly met yours and your breath hitched. There was an intensity in his gaze that drew you in, making you feel a strange pull.

Before you could react further, Molly's voice shattered the moment. "Mom, that's him!" she exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. "That's Mr. Lupin!"

He looked down at Molly, a smile lighting up his face as he recognized her. "Ah, if it isn't our little chatterbox," he said, his voice warm and friendly, and as he took step closer, you could now see him better.

"You even got a sticker, did you show your mommy?" He pointed to her jean jacket, before his eyes slowly traveled up to you, meeting your gaze once again.

And you felt a strange, almost electric connection. It was as if a thousand tiny lightning bolts had passed through your body in that moment, leaving you feeling both startled and yet strangely drawn to him. He was a handsome man, you couldn’t deny it even if you wanted. His hair was slightly messy, falling in soft, brown locks across his forehead. Those intense chocolate eyes framed by thick eyelashes stared right into yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the sharp, yet boyish, cut of his jaw. Even his outfit, a simple blue sweater and jeans, seemed to look better on him than on anyone else.

The strange connection between you and him was snapped out of by Molly, who with all the enthusiasm a child can have, showed off a sticker that was proudly attached to her denim jacket. The words "Rock Star" were written on it, and she looked up at you with a huge smile on her face, clearly proud of her accomplishment.

The atmosphere felt charged, filled with a magnetic energy, but you managed to collect yourself, plastering a smile on your face as you responded to her.

"That is indeed very cool, sweetheart," you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m sorry.” You chuckled looking back at him. “She can be a lot on a daily basis. I can’t imagine a classroom full of little kids like her.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "It's alright. To be honest, she's an absolute angel compared to the others, but don’t tell them that.” He winked at you, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“That’s good to hear then.” You offered him a slight smile as you held Molly close, sensing that she was growing weary and more clingy. She always become like that when she was tired. A school bell saved you from the awkwardness between two of you, because when it ranged, Mr. Lupin gave you an apologetic smile, glancing up at the source of the noise.

As the hallway cleared out, leaving behind only two of you, he broke the silence with a gentle cough, his voice a soft whisper. "Duty calls," he said, a hint of regret in his tone. "I must prepare for my next class," he continued, his smile tinged with a hint of sheepishness. "And I'd hate to keep you any longer."

She clearly knew the bell was an excuse for him to get away from the slight tension that had hung in the air between you two, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that your conversation was being cut short.

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. "Yeah, I'd better get going as well," you said as you held onto Molly's shoulder, feeling her weight leaning into you due to her increasing tiredness. "I need to feed this gremlin before she falls asleep on me." You ruffled her blonde hair.

He smiled warmly, casting a glance down at Molly who was clinging to you. "Yeah, I can see," he said, his voice soft and pleasant. "It was nice to meet you. By the way, don't forget to attend the class meeting this week!”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” You giggled nervously. “I’ll be there.”

He gave you a final nod, taking another step away. Then, with a small wave, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing from sight as he rounded the corner.

And you saw that before he disappeared from the view, how he casted one final glance over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours. A subtle, gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took in the sight of you and Molly last time.

You let out a sigh, feeling the tension finally starting to melt away from your shoulders. It took you a few moments to calm down and regain your composure, but when you were back in the game mentally, you felt that warm blush still coloring your cheeks.

What a strange conversation.

“I told you, he’s awesome” Molly whispered, looking up at you, with her big, but tired eyes, while you still couldn’t move your legs from a slight shock.

Oh, you were so fucked.

part two ←

#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #marauders #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #stvrlightfics

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shaunamilfman · 11 months ago

Text

your name has echoed through my mind

Summary: "You find a camera full of pictures of you from every angle, clearly taken by a stalker left in your backpack. Your left in shock as you consider who possibly could have done this. Certainly it couldn't be Lottie Matthews who has the exact same backpack as you."

nsfw warning

A/N: stalker lottie takes photos of you idk how much clearer i could be lmao. gotta be honest i wrote the plot around the smut sooooo.

You'd noticed before that you and Lottie had the same backpack. It was never something you'd paid all that much attention to, beyond wondering why Lottie Matthews would carry a nondescript black Jansport, but you'd noticed it in passing. Needless to say, it wasn't all that surprising when people mixed up your bags; The two of you would share a smile and just laugh it off.

That was until Misty had doubled back to the locker room during practice and noticed Lottie's camera had fallen out of her bag in her rush to get to the field. Misty, as helpful as ever, slipped it back into Lottie's bag and zipped it up on her way out. That would have been the end of the story, had that been Lottie's bag.

You were in a rush to leave practice– having barely enough time to make the dentist appointment that your mom had ever so helpfully scheduled 20 minutes after practice on the other side of town– and didn't end up checking the contents of your bag until much later.

You stared curiously at the camera as you pulled it out of your bag, never having seen it before. It looked expensive, you knew that much, and well cared for. You wanted to return the well-loved camera to its owner so you spent some time fiddling around with it until you found the saved pictures hoping to find a hint as to who it belonged to. You found some beautiful pictures, it was clear whoever this belonged to was an extremely talented photographer, but you didn't pay much attention to that.

No, your attention was drawn to something very different indeed. You stare in shock at hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of yourself in various locations, and states of undress. You send a horrified look at your window, storming over to close the blinds immediately: that seemed to be a favorite location of your stalker.

Who the fuck owned this camera?

…

You were noticeably paranoid for a few days following your discovery. You’d carefully watch anyone whom you passed in the halls, looking for any hint of your mysterious stalker. Certainly, they’d have to notice that their camera was missing by now, right? You hadn’t seen anyone looking at you suspiciously, or staring for just a moment too long before they looked away. You’d believed that your stalker would end up exposing themselves in a moment of panic looking around for their camera, but whoever it is was careful not to react in front of you at the very least. The only truly suspicious thing you saw was the amount of yearning stares Shauna and Jackie exchanged when the other wasn’t looking, but that was par for the course.

You even went as far as to stop by the school's art show, intending to find out who had any talent for photography at the very least. You had almost given up hope when you saw it: a blown-up version of a picture you knew was taken by your stalker. It was a beautiful shot, admittedly, and you’d spent a lot of time looking at it. It was nothing truly scandalous, just a shot of nature, but there was just something about it that made it utterly captivating. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, causing irritated members of the crowd to grumble as they moved around you. There was so much more detail in this blown-up version, you could almost hear the ripples in the water and the way the wind blew the leaves off the trees. You were so captivated that when someone placed a hand on your shoulder you nearly swung at them. You clear your throat awkwardly, sending Lottie an apologetic look as you turn to face her.

“Hi,” Lottie says shyly, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. You smile genuinely, always happy to see Lottie outside of practice.

“Hey, Yourself.” You greet fondly. You gesture vaguely around the room. “I didn’t know this was your type of thing.”

Lottie shrugs as she takes a quick look around the room, turning back to face you. “Kinda has to be,” She admits with a touch of amusement. “I’m a photographer. That’s my photo you’re looking at.”

Your eyes widen as you visibly fight off the anger. Lottie fucking Matthews was your stalker? Your teammate Lottie Matthews? Your blood was practically boiling at this point, but you fake a shocked look as you look back and forth between her and the photo.

“You’re really talented.” You admit honestly, choking back your rage. Lottie blushes as she looks over at her photo, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She seems to be incredibly pleased at the compliment but doesn’t quite know how to react to it. She must have gotten a lot of practice taking pictures of me, you think darkly. Never in a million years would you have suspected Lottie to be capable of such a thing, but you figured you could hide a lot of things behind a smile. Even one as undeniably charming as hers.

“Thanks.” She says softly, smiling widely down at you. She holds eye contact for a fraction of a second too long, seeming to realize her mistake as she glances back up around the room. “Do you want to look around with me?” She asks, looking a little unsure. You’ve already looked at every other piece here as you tried to nonchalantly work your way to the photography section, but you figured this would give you a chance to learn more about your stalker.

You finally got to do some watching of your own, staring intently at her as you follow her around the art show. You take perverse pleasure in the way she fidgets uncomfortably under your watchful gaze. She keeps trying to sneak a peek at you when she thinks you're not looking, flushing every time as she pretends to look at something behind you. Lottie Matthews I almost feel bad for you, you think in amusement. You’ve never realized how obsessed with you she seemed to be, but it was undeniable in the way she couldn’t stand to keep her eyes off of you for any significant period of time.

You could work with this.

…

You’ve spent a significant amount of time watching Lottie at school lately. You’d feel bad about practically stalking the girl, but you figured it was fine since she never felt bad about literally stalking you. You weren’t sure if you had just grown paranoid with everything going on, but you swore you saw flashes of brown hair whip around a corner when you turned around suddenly. You never had more than a gut feeling, but you were almost positive that Lottie had resumed stalking you again. You wondered idly if it was different without her camera to photograph you with.

You’d lost a lot of your initial disgust the more you watched her. There was something intriguing about having someone like Lottie Matthews obsessed with you. You’ve been walking on cloud nine ever since; You’ve never felt less insecure in your entire life. You grew to enjoy how responsive she got to your attention, no matter how little you gave her. You smiled at her in the hallways a few times, and she’s since taken to trailing after you like a lost puppy. She paid such close attention to the smallest little comments you made– she even started bringing an extra jacket after you offhandedly mentioned you tended to forget yours. She claimed it was for her, of course, but you knew that she was desperately waiting for a chance to offer it to you.

You keep getting stuck on that thought. What does she get out of seeing you in the jacket? Is it just seeing you in her clothes, or is there something more perverse she’s looking for? You spent many a late night thinking about what she’d do with the jacket if you wore it. Still, you refused to give in to something she obviously wanted desperately. You couldn’t let her get off scot-free for stalking you, after all. Even if you’ve decided you were more into it than previously thought.

…

You're nearly jumping for joy as you slam the door of your car shut. You normally waste your Wednesday nights babysitting your cousin, but thankfully he was too sick for your aunt to leave him alone. Obviously, it wasn’t good that he was sick, but you found yourself happy enough to have the free time anyway. You eye the unfamiliar car parked across the street curiously, not expecting to have any visitors. No one was usually home at this time, your parents were out working and you were normally at your aunt's.

You're about to open the handle to your room when you suddenly become aware of the sound of something bumping against your creaky closet door. You’ve spent enough time living here to familiarize yourself with the noises of the house settling, so you knew for sure that someone was definitely in your room right now. You're filled with an intense fear, shaking terribly as you try to pull your phone out of your pocket to call the police. You pause suddenly as you hear a distinctly feminine moan coming out of your room. Your eyes narrow in anger. Lottie fucking Matthews.

You slam the door open, startling Lottie who pops up quickly out of your hamper. The first thing you notice is the look of immense guilt and fear on Lottie’s face as she stares back at you. Her big brown eyes are wide with terror with her mouth slightly open in shock. Her outfit is nice, a little too nice to be rummaging around in someone's hamper in all honesty. Leave it to Lottie to overdress for her creepy stalking activities. The last thing you notice is your underwear clenched firmly in her hand. She follows your eyes and guiltily worries her lip between her teeth as she realizes what you’ve seen.

“Give them here.” You say firmly. Lottie whimpers, actually whimpers, as she holds them out to you. You snatch them out of her hand, feigning a look of disgust as you look at her. She can’t even look you in the eyes, face going bright red as she stares down at her feet. You reach up to grab gently at her chin, jerking it up and forcing her to make eye contact with you.

“What were you going to do with these?” You ask sternly.

Lottie sputters, actually speechless, as she tries to come up with something that couldn't possibly excuse her actions. “I think you were going to go home and touch yourself, pervert.” You say mockingly. Her face burns with the evidence of her shame, fruitlessly trying to lower her head again to avoid your forced eye contact. You drop her chin and she immediately zeroes in on a stain in your carpet as she tries to pretend she isn’t there.

“Look at me.” You say gently. Lottie slowly looks back up, looking lost and a little unsure. “Do you want them?” She eyes you wearily as if she’s wondering what kind of trick you're going to pull on her as she slowly nods. You hold them out towards her as they hang off of one finger. She raises a hand out to snatch them, but you yank them back before she can. She gives you a pathetic look as her eyes follow them even as her body can’t. You enjoyed your power over her even more knowing that she let you have it. Lottie Matthews was a big girl, and if she wanted to overpower you you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop her from taking them from you.

“I’ll give them to you, but you're going to show me what you’re going to do with them.” You offer smugly. Lottie's eyes go wide as she blushes scarlet.

“You… You want to watch me…” She trails off unsurely. You nod encouragingly for her to finish her sentence. “You want to watch me touch myself?” She asks quietly as if she can barely force the words out.

Not quite so easy when you're the one being watched, is it? You think vindictively. You’re self-aware enough to admit to enjoying her humiliation as she looks back and forth between you and your underwear with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. She nods after a long moment, glancing around your room awkwardly. You slip your underwear into the back pocket of your jeans as you resist the urge to celebrate your victory too soon.

You step forward and lead her back to your bed, crawling up after her as she scoots up your bed. She sits unsurely in the middle as she looks up at you for guidance as you hover over her. You eye her outfit decisively for a moment before you lean forward and slowly unbutton her blouse. Her eyes are blown wide in disbelief as she intensely tracks your movement as your fingers nimbly expose her chest to the room. She whines quietly as your fingertips brush ever so slightly against her stomach as you untuck the bottom of it from her skirt, letting it fall uselessly against the bed beside her.

You scrutinize the exposed skin closely, reveling in the way it makes her fidget uncomfortably. Your eyes inevitably get drawn up to her nipples and how they firmly poke their way through her bra. “Cold, Lottie?” You ask as just a hint of a smirk graces your lips. She pouts as you tease her, but doesn’t otherwise comment on it. She looks at you with a look of utter adoration, as if she couldn’t believe she got the chance to be teased by you. It was undeniably pathetic, and yet you found yourself growing hot at the thought regardless.

Lottie jumps slightly as your cold fingers slide down her sides, arching her back towards you as you reach behind her to unclasp her bra. You greedily take in the sight of her newly revealed breasts, barely resisting the urge to take one into your mouth. You pull her bra slowly down her arms, gently pressing your hand against her chest to push her into laying flat on the bed as you toss it off the edge.

You slide your hands up the outside of her legs slowly. Lottie’s hips jerk up against nothing as your fingers finally curl around the waistband of her panties. Lottie’s breath stutters as you slowly drag them back down her thighs, exposing her to your gaze once again. She curls her legs to help you get them off. You murmur praise at the action, carefully noting the way she worried her lip between her teeth as you did. Seems you found something else she enjoyed. You drop her panties off the side of the bed, not wanting them to get lost, as you take her in. You’ve kept the skirt on, enjoying the way she's just barely dressed as she’s spread out in front of you.

You spread Lottie’s legs as you shift up to kneel between them. You drag her down the bed slightly so that her hips rest on the bed near the front of your knees, her long legs forced to spread around your hips. She gasps at the action, eyes blown wide in arousal. “Well?” You ask expectantly. Lottie slowly moves her trembling hand to her stomach, inhaling sharply at the feeling of her own fingertips brushing against her. She presses her palm flat against her stomach, staring up at you to make sure you’re still watching, as she drags it up her torso teasingly slowly.

She moans softly as she cups her breast, squeezing none too gently as she moves her other hand up to mirror the touch. You watch the action intently, almost shocked by how rough she’s being with herself. She doesn’t immediately go for her nipples, carefully avoiding them even as she plays with the rest of her breasts, which gives you a sneaking suspicion that they must be pretty sensitive. Slowly, ever so slowly, does she finally slide her fingers up to start circling her nipples with her thumbs. She gasps at the touch as her eyes slam shut, confirming your suspicion of her sensitivity.

You’re almost salivating as you gaze down at her. Her eyes flutter back open as she looks up at you, breathing heavily as she starts to get rougher under your constant supervision. She whines as she pinches her nipples between two fingers and tugs, back arching off the bed in response. You press your hand against her stomach, pressing her flat against the bed. She moans all the more at the pressure, almost struggling against you to avoid the pinch she’s given herself. She lets go as she reaches her limit, fingers gently circling her nipples again.

“Are you always this rough with yourself?” You ask curiously. She blushes shyly as she shakes her head, squeezing herself even rougher at the sound of your voice.

“I like to be rough when I’m imagining you touching me.” She admits breathily, head thrown back in the pillow as she enjoys her own stimulation. You gasp at the admission, not quite expecting that answer. She’s breathing so heavily she can hardly get the words out, completely overwhelmed with the entire situation.

“Am I always so rough with you?” You ask quietly, eyes fixating on how red her nipples are becoming. She shivers as she moans out a yes, chest quivering at the touch. Her rough touch is just making herself even more sensitive, seemingly becoming more and more painful the longer she goes on. Just like she imagines you’d like. You wonder how much time she spent imagining your touch, imagining what it would be like to lay under you. You hope she touched herself like this in her car as she sat outside your house all night watching you. The thought of her getting herself off like this while you were innocently sleeping inside is almost too much to bear.

“Tell me how what I'd do, Lottie.” You demand. She looks down at her hands on her breasts as she imagines they are yours. She stutters slightly as she tries to find the breath to answer.

“Fuck.” She breathes out, her heart racing against her chest. “You’d be gentle with me at first, making it so much better when you started getting rough when you realized how badly I wanted it.” She moans at the thought, getting distracted as she pinches her nipples between her fingers again. “You… Your fingers. They’re so big. So rough with me.” Her voice breaks a little as she gets lost in her imagination, her cheeks flushing at the thought.

“Tighter.” You instruct, the corners of your lips quirking up as she whines painfully at the pinch. You watch the tears prick the corners of her eyes. She’s so sensitive now that she can barely stand it, but she’s so desperate to please you. Every brush of her hands against her breasts leaves her twitching and moaning. “Such a good listener.” You praise gently. “You can let go now, Lottie.”

She sags back down against the bed, smiling weakly at the praise as she catches her breath. She gives you a questioning look when you shake your head as she starts to touch her breasts again. You reach into the back pocket of your jeans and pull out your underwear, making her eyes go wide as she watches them intently. You hold them out for her and she snatches them greedily, almost as if she couldn’t stop herself. She looks a little apologetic as she holds them, but quickly brings them up to her nose to breathe the scent of you in. Your eyes widen slightly at the action, not entirely sure of how you feel about that. Still, the effect they have on Lottie is undeniable.

Her face slackens as her entire body relaxes back against the bed. Her fingers curl in the fabric as she brings it down to her lips to lick them intently. You breathe out shakily at the signs of her obvious enjoyment. She almost seems to forget you were there for a minute as she goes to town on them, her legs trying to shut around you as she's desperate to get some friction. She whines as she finally drags her eyes away from them, eyes blown wide in arousal. “Show me. Show me what you’d do with them.” You remind her shakily, unable to take your eyes off of her.

She releases a muffled moan as she slides her hand down her stomach, bunching up her skirt around her hips so you can see her better. She inhales sharply when you place your hands on her knees, spreading herself for you as you lean closer.

Lottie has strong thighs, the muscles clenched tight like they're begging to be touched. It takes everything you have to resist the urge to slap her hand away and do it yourself. “Can you see it?” She asks, nearly begging. “Can you see how much they've made me want you?” You give her a jerky nod, unable to tear your eyes away from her. She's so wet that it's dripping down her thighs. She's made a real mess of herself on your bed. You wonder what she tastes like, what she would feel like in your mouth. Your mouth waters as you imagine the way she'd twitch against your tongue, how she'd feel clenching around your fingers.

“All for me, Lottie?” You murmur. She whimpers in agreement, nearly sighing in relief as her fingers finally make contact. You can hear how wet she is as she slides her palm down, thighs tensing as she grinds up against her hand as if she can't stop herself. She maintains eye contact with you as she slowly slides two fingers inside herself, whining greedily at the stretch. Her legs squeeze against you as she instinctively tries to close them, once again forcing her to remain spread open before you.

She throws her head back with a loud moan as her hips chase her own thrusts. You can't bring yourself to even blink, not wanting to miss a second of watching her pleasure herself in front of you. She whimpers when she starts grinding up against her palm, too sensitive by far but unable to resist the urge. Her hips jump back but she powers through her own sensitivity, so desperate to show herself to you.

She's got her other hand clutched around your underwear, periodically bringing it up to her nose as she writhes against her touch. You watch for a long while as she revels in her pleasure, her motions getting jerkier and jerkier the closer she gets. Finally, you decide to interrupt.

“Is this what you do when you take your little pictures, perv?” You taunt, enjoying the look of shock as her eyes flew open. She looks at you guiltily, hand never stilling, as if she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Eager for the treat, but embarrassed at being caught red-handed. “Oh, Lottie. Did you think I didn't know?” She nods her head shamefacedly, unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“I'm sorry,” Lottie murmurs shamefully, looking at a spot behind your head. You might believe her if it wasn't for her pleasured sighs and the way her fingers had sped up their motions as her legs started shaking against you. You knew it was turning her on to be caught like this. The humiliation only made her wetter.

“Close your eyes, perv. I think you've seen enough.” You command gently. She whimpers at the name but obediently closes her eyes again. You watch to make sure she's going to keep her eyes closed tight as you reach for something you've kept hidden behind you.

…

Lottie clutches her camera to her chest the entire ride home. She'd felt so lost without it and was so relieved to finally have it back, despite how surprised she was that you had given it back to her at all. She dove into her gallery the second she got home, hoping against hope that you hadn't deleted all of her pictures of you. She flushed slightly knowing she would have deserved it for how creepy she's been, but she just couldn't stop herself.

She nearly drops the camera in her shock, whining at the sight that greeted her. She wondered when you'd managed to take those pictures of her without her noticing. How long were her eyes even closed? She wonders, taking in the view of her back arched as she ground up against her hand. Was this how you saw her?

She grins as she puts her camera down, reaching for your underwear in her bag as the other sneaks back under the waistband of her skirt. She has a desperate hope that you'll consent to let her take more photos of you in the future, but for now, she'll have to make do with what she has. If you didn't consent… Well, there was always your window.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #lottie matthews x reader #minors dni

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dentos-wife · 2 years ago

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Let’s talk how about Chrom and Robin’s bond evolved over time

With everyone clamoring over the new emblem I wanted to take a look back how we got here with their relationship and why I think at this point Chrobin is the intended or inferred Chrom pairing when it didn’t used to be.

In 2012 we got Fire Emblem Awakening, and as Chrom was related to Marth, his inferred pairing was Sumia a pegasus knight as a nod to Caeda, Marth’s canon wife. Granted because part of Awakening’s charm is you could pair anyone up, you didn’t have to pair Chrom up with Sumia if you didn’t wish to. But to IS she was the intended choice.

She had special scenes with Chrom and was the most likely to end up paired with him if you weren’t gunning for a specific wife for him

And you see her here in the opening with Lucina

Robin is you, the avatar, they don’t even have official art, just them with a hood

They had a canon design what we all know now but it wasn’t really used. And that should have been it as far as IS was concerned. Awakening was their last hurrah. And then FE blew up.

Robin’s canon design is now getting used, both the male and female version are now in Smash Bros. Then we have Warriors and Heroes and the Awakening cast shows up more. But not Sumia. Perhaps it’s because she’s not popular or the people flocked to Cordelia instead but she is the pegusus knight everyone loves. Sumia isn’t even in Warriors or the base FEH she gets added much later to FEH only with other less popular Awakening characters.

It’s here when FE became more maintstream I believe that IS changed their tune on Sumia being the intended wife and retconed it. I fully think Sumia was dropped and they no longer had an intended pairing for him all because she just wasn’t popular. Him and Robin were close of course they always were, obviously some would see it as friendship others would see it as something more the usual nothing really changed there.

And then 2022 ten full years after Awakening’s release...this happened

Couple things here. I fully believe the reason Chrom was paired with MRobin here instead of FRobin is for two big reasons reasons.

1) If they paired him with FRobin it canonizes a pairing so MRobin is the safer option, FEH doesn’t usually pair men and women unless they’re already a pairing. So MRobin got paired with Chrom and FRobin was on her own but she still has lines about how much Chrom meant to her.

2) MRobin is the more popular Robin as has been shown every year in CYL and he’d even win next year

So Chrom and Robin were always close it was a no brainer to make them a duo unit, they picked the male version on a very family oriented banner.

That said some of these lines...well let’s just say if a man and a woman were saying that to each other there would be no doubt here. Imagine if this Robin was the female version

Robin: There's Lissa, Emmeryn, Lucina, Frederick... I think we've got gifts for everyone. Don't we? Chrom: Well, all but one. What would you like your gift to be, Robin? Robin: What? Me? You can't just come out and ask like that, you know. There are rules! Chrom: You know I don't care about that. Just tell me what you want. Robin: Truthfully...I can't think of anything. Chrom: You don't want anything? Aw, come on. Think of the bind that puts me in. Robin: You gave my life meaning when I had nothing—not even my memory. The sense of purpose I've found at your side, working for peace in the world, is all I could ever ask for. Chrom: You're not alone in that, you know. I feel the same way. That's why I wanted to give you something nice. To show you how I feel. Robin: All right, all right. In that case, why don't you give me one of those flowers you're wearing? Chrom: It's only going to wilt. Robin: I'll press it into one of my books. That way I'll never forget this Day of Devotion.

Snippet from their duo convo. Usually when someone gives flowers it’s considered a pretty romantic gesture I’ve heard plenty of people call this alt playfully the gays and yeah this is very strong.

FRobin even comments on them in one of her lines.

“That man with Chrom is a Robin from another world, right? They get along so well, I'm almost jealous...“

There was no need for that line at all, we can tell from their lines how flipping close they are but they felt the need to have another character comment on it in base lines

I do believe MRobin was used not to canonize a pairing...at first. And then they gave up because it looked like people really liked it going even further in the next year.

In Awakening Chrom and Robin refer to themselves as two halves of the same whole which is already a loaded term. But it’s never been used after and was just part of the game

Enter the next time they pair up as the Emblem of Bonds which brought that back for the first time since 2012, in full force

Correct me if I’m wrong but no one besides them have referred to each other as their other half in Awakening

Lucina does it in Engage. For reference other half means husband, wife or partner (romantic). I think after the Valentine’s alt they decided sure why not and now they’re really going in with Robin being Chrom’s other half when they only touched the term once past Awakening in a FRobin cipher card. Other half in Engage is Robin and he pops up when engaged with Chrom to mix magic with the attack. I don’t doubt you can mean a friend with this term but when paired with everything else they say to each other, it’s pretty strong evidence it’s further than friendship.

Okay now for the the ultimate Robin is now Chrom’s intended partner view, Legendary Robin also released this year

“Tactician of Ylisse. Celebrated as Exalt Chrom's other half in the legends that followed their exploits. Appears in Fire Emblem Awakening. “

I saw some people argue exalt could mean Lucina too but no it doesn’t, it clearly means Chorm it says so and if you didn’t believe that, we got a map that was the two called Chrom and his other half. Which is Robin.

His art also references his other half status, he now wears blueish green jewelry which stands for Chrom and the brand of the exalt is on his chest plate

Finally in his damage art he once again has the symbol of the exalt formed in magic.

And a ring, some have argued it’s his clothes but usually the magic gauntlets he wears are on his middle finger and not under his gloves; pretty sure it’s a ring, it’s even on the ring finger of his left hand, where you generally put a wedding ring.

All this together is some very strong evidence, but put it with everything else they’ve done since last year and it’s clear to me, IS now is pushing Chrom and Robin as the intended pairing. Not canon like Marth and Caeda or Alm and Celica, but intended like they do with Eliwood and Ninian and some others I’m probably forgetting. And because MRobin is who they use and their “canon” sort of like FCorrin is the “canon” Corrin, IS is strongly hinting at MChrobin

Which fascinates me, we went from Chrom with a intended implied wife to scrapping it and pretended it never happened to this, Chrom with an intended husband. Him and his best friend, both two guys, very much in love. In ten years IS changed it’s mind on the intended canon pairing that isn’t even possible in the base game. They are a fate defying duo, the emblem of bonds, the exalt and his other half, two halves of the same whole and they are showing that in symbolism harder than ever. I think that’s really cool

To end this I’m aroace and see romance a little differently from the amatonormic norm Chrom and Robin could just be really good friends lord knows I also think friendship should be just as important as romance BUT if they were, it’s very clear they are each others most important person over any wife they might separately have. But even that doesn’t follow a typical heteronormative relationship no? Chrom and Robin’s bonds are so strong they transcend the concept of romance and friendship as we know it, there is no name for the type of love they share it’s beyond us.

But what about Lucina? (and Morgan) In a world with magic, dragons, people dying and coming back to life, time travel and more the idea of two guys somehow having a child is no longer far fetched at all really, or even surrogates exist.

Also they act like kind of like dads with her and it’s really cute

Now granted IS could remake Awakening and MRobin will still not be able to marry Chrom and this whole analysis would have been for naught but I think if they do remake it they’ll add it. Look at how many people have been introduced to them just through Heroes and Engage you don’t think people are going to want to pair up the exalt and his other half in their game?

To sum it up, yes there literally is no heterosexual explanation for where IS has taken this. It wasn’t originally the intended pairing but it sure is now, I don’t think there is any room for denial anymore until we see what they do with a remake.

#chrobin #fire emblem #MChrobin #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem engage #analysis #like at this point if you don't like it you can ignore it but it's VERY clear to me IS is going with it now #if Sumia was more popular would we still have ended up here? Dunno #this all is still the same for FRobin btw but she's not who IS is pushing as the canon Robin but it still stands #anything she gets with Chrom? Take the same way Chrom loves all Robins #if you read all this I love you

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mrs-gauche · 3 months ago

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So, I *think* I've calmed down enough to form coherent sentences about this trailer now, after watching this about a gazillion times. 😂 There is just SO much in this and I still can't believe it's all real.. I feel like people have already dissected every single frame anyway, so here are just my poor two cents (that's a lie, it's an essay lol), I'm sure 90% of this has probably already been said lol, but I just had to write my thoughts down, so there you go. 🫠

But first, can I just ask you guys this.. Does anyone else feel SO friggin overwhelmed every time something huge like this drops? 😂😭 Like, I LOVE the collective excitement and freaking out over all this with the fandom together in real time, and maybe it's because I'm not a native English speaker, but I'm watching the trailer live and within like fifteen minutes there are already a bazillion notifications, messages, people have already made hundreds of theory posts, edits, fanart and shitposts, meanwhile I'm sitting here still looking at the FIRST FRAME and trying to process what I'm even looking at. lmaoo Like, it takes me SO long to take it fully in, calm down and look at ALL of it in detail, while I go radio silent for like two hours, making people think I just died watching the trailer, I guess. lmaooo So.. sorry if it takes me forever until I even go on here and look at everything you guys are posting. 💀 <3

Anyway, so first of all, I'd like to just generally say... Everything about this blew. me. away.

Look. After like 20 years of watching BioWare's entire animation catalogue of the same 25 movements in every cutscene, that it would make you jump every time a character but even slightly moved differently than everyone else, we're now getting a game that is SO INCREDIBLY CINEMATIC, SO SMOOTH, unlike any BioWare game before. A game where everyone just moves and expresses emotions like their own person, making everything a hundred times more immersive and impactful!!

Not only that but there's a BioWare game now with PHENOMENAL LOOKING HAIR and REALISTIC HAIR PHYSICS. Guys, do you understand this is HISTORY??? lmao We've been asking for this for YEARS and it's happening!! 😭

And the cinematography? THE CINEMATOGRAPHY?? Just looking at that very FIRST LOCATION SHOT alone. The camerawork, the composition, the fluidity of movement, the shift of focus, the lighting, the use of MoCap, the facial expressions... As someone who spent a *LOT* of time using the flycam to make cinematic gifsets of DAI, where - with all respect to the devs - 90% of the camerawork basically consisted of "zoom in/zoom out"... this. blew. my. fucking mind.

Like, they did it. They mastered the Frostbite engine on all fronts. And it truly hurts my heart seeing people compare this to Fortnite or whatever, when in my opinion this time they actually managed to find a perfect mix between stylized and realism, in favor of making the characters even more expressive and this coupled with the use of MoCap and the incredible cinematography will make these emotional scenes hit SO hard and.. ugh, I just love it so much. 🥹❤️❤️

With this being said, let's dive into it!

Okay, so I know this is super random, but it was literally the first thing I noticed about this trailer. lol Did you noticed that it said "BioWare" *before* "Electronic Arts" in the beginning, unlike that first... controversial reveal trailer, where it was the other way around? 😂 Not reading anything into this of course (or do I? lol), but.. Idk, I thought it was.. interesting. 👀

So we start off with the first of many amazing tracking shots, with the camera orbiting around Rook in this place devoid of color or life. The note at the bottom made me chuckle "Game engine footage with some costum camera angles", I was like "Oh, so they used the flycam to make this?". lol So some shots of these will look different in the final version (what kind of spoilers are they hiding?? 👀👀).

I do hope that next shot DOES end up in the game though, because holy SHIT, that FIRST wide shot already blew. me. away.

Look at the COMPOSITION of this.

Actually, you could probably take every single location/wide shot of this trailer and hang it on your wall. lol But seriously, the way this place just looks... dead. It makes me think of "void" rather than Fade.. like an ancient graveyard. The raw Fade looks generally creepy, but this is haunting even for that. There's no life, no color, no motion. It's all broken and crumbled. Almost like it reflects Solas' feelings. People are speculating if this place might change depending on Solas' state of mind.. This is the Fade after all, but Solas is here physically and this being the place that was supposed to be the new prison for the gods.. It's probably different from the rest of it.

We also see all seven statues of the pantheon from the ritual site again. Solas "I have the high ground", *literally* talking down to Rook, while standing on two separate cliffs (how did Rook even get there, I wonder? lol), like there is quite literally a rift between them (for now..!) and Solas is keeping a distance, as always. We still don't know how that connection between the two even works, I assume Rook can only contact him while asleep? But to think that this is the place where he is trapped now, where he is even more isolated than ever before, is making me so emotional. ;-;

I love how it's just black and white though. It gives the scene a destinct atmosphere that might be important, if this is where we get to see Solas doing a lot of introspection. In the art of filmmaking, the absence of color is often used to force the audience to focus on the contrast, textures, and tones present in the image, which can evoke a deep sense of emotion.

And speaking of emotions...

"You have no idea what you have done."

We had already heard that line before, but something about that booming, echoing effect they used on his voice sent a shiver down my spine!

"The blighted elven gods walk free. And all because you disrupted my ritual."

To me, he *sounds* much more frustrated here than he *looks* when saying that. lol He looks incredibly worried though, and just so tired. A moment ago, he was SO close to achieving his goal after hundreds of years of preparation and then he failed again... and now there is this completely clueless stranger who got him in this situation, but who he has to rely on now to stop these gods, when he's unable to trust anyone, and yet he can't even yell at them too much, because he *needs* them. He must be so exhausted.

And yes, it is kinda funny how they put "elven gods" in quotation marks. lol

Thank god he still has his freckles though. ❤️ We're actually seeing a lot more texture on his face here than in the gameplay showcase. And yes, not only did he get his eyebrows microbladed but apparently he's also sporting eyeliner and lipstick now. 😌✨✨ The only downside to the lack of colors here is that his super purple eyes are not poppin' anymore. lol

"You battle against gods. They will not rest until you are on your knees. Fearful. Cowering. Helpless in the face of such power."

I love how they play this line so early on in the trailer, that it makes you go "WAIT... IS THAT- NO WAY" and not until the end do we get the confirmation with the most amazing entrance ever.

We then get a shot of what I think has to be Treviso in flames and Ghilan'nain symbolically coiling her tentacles around a crow statue's head, as she's probably about to take over the city. 👀 *falls on my knees the second I meet her in the game* lol

Then there's the shot of this horrifying Blight.. lump.. growth thing that has completely devoured an elf (and several other bodies it seems) with a hair style that has everyone wondering if this could be Felassan! 🥺🥺�� As much as I would LOVE for Felassan to make an appearance.. I kinda hope this *isn't* him.. because good god, whatever happened to this persom here must be pretty traumatizing (are they even still alive?) and also, how do we get them out of there? lol Either way, seeing as there are Harding, Bellara and Neve accompanying Rook here, this might be earlier in the game (and this is them dicovering that the Blight is already spreading rapidly?) and yet it already shows us that this Blight is on a whole other level than anything we've seen before, and it's taking every living thing.

Then we see another snowy place (or might this be within the same area?) that's also in huge parts taken over by the Blight. You can also see a dead(?) dragon lying on the ground at the bottom right corner? 🥺

Then Elgar'nan literally pops up right next to Ghilan'nain, and btw, I love how I can't even tell where her body begins or where it ends in this shot. lmao What ARE you, Ghili?? 💀

It looks to me like maybe she was struck by a bolt/spear from a ballista or something? The Grey Wardens tried to take her out maybe? Looks like the power of Elgar'nan's mere presence blows the Wardens away then lol, like they're just insects to him.. and in the blast we can see a person that looks like Evka?? <3333 (please don't die here though 😭)

Then we're getting a first glimpse of a dragon that shows up multiple times in this trailer. Also, to me, it looks so much like the dragon from the Golden City vinyl cover, which has me like 👀👀👀👀

Next there are a few scenes from the prologue we've already seen in the gameplay showcase, but it's coupled with new lines from Varric, that have me super worried. :(

"Rook, you've got this. I've seen your work. You're clever, adaptable. And you don't know when to quit.

My first reaction to this was "Oh god no, that sounds so much like a "passing the torch" kind of dialogue to me" as in Varric either dies (PLEASE NO but it IS super suspicious how he's not seen or mentioned in any other scene so far) or retires his role as the leader of this group and hands it over to Rook. And he just sounds... weary. 🥺 I wonder what he means by "your work" though? Is he talking about things Rook has done before Varric recruited them? Or is it maybe later down the line, after Rook has already proven themselves to be a great leader? 🤔

Then we get another shot of that one dragon and our first look at Harding with the bruised face (whoever did this, come fight me!) and some poor person tangled in.. something, I'm not sure. lol

Then there's a super quick shot of the floating building in Minrathous, followed by Rook opening a gate Aragorn style, which leads me to believe that this is actually somethere IN that floating building maybe?

But the fact that Rook and everyone else seems to be wearing casual clothes in the following shots, plus the architecture in the background has me wondering if they might be at the Lighthouse actually? 👀

Especially because in the very next shot we see Rook, Bellara, Neve and Harding all in casual clothes again in front of a giant eluvian and I wonder if that's the mirror that we've read about in the Game Informer article. The special eluvian at the Lighthouse that can take you anywhere? :o

Speaking of the Game Informer article, it also told us that Rook, Harding and Neve went back to the ritual site after what happened in the beginning, which is probably what we're seeing here!

"You want allies to go after the elven gods. I've got places to look."

Well, good thing we have a clever detective on the team that apparently knows people who would willingly fight some gods. lol Notice how Harding's face is still injured in this scene. 👀 So I assume whatever happened to her must've happened at the ritual site? Btw, I love how the trailer makes it look like they're all in casual clothes and the second they're stepping through the eluvian, they're in full gear? 😂 (I'm sure those two scenes take place at different times though.) It's crazy how much different the Arlathan Forest looks now, without the cataclysmic storm and all. I love the lighting, the colors and the soft rain! :3

Then we get another gorgeous location shot to hang on the wall. <3 My guess here is definitely Anderfels, given the landscape and those "pillar ring" things we've seen before (I still have no idea what those are, the funniest guess is still griffon training flight path 😂 But something tells me those things will be important.).

"I'll be damned! A griffon!"

Davrin and Assan!! <33333 And the dialogue makes it sound like this might be the first time they meet each other?? 🥹🥹 Followed by a scene of Davrin taking care of business and what might be the return of children in DA?? 😭 Seeing that little girl made me so happy, because that was actually one of the few things on my wishlist for DA4, because I always felt like children make the world feel SO much more real and immersive and besides Kieran, children were completely absent in DAI.

Am I trippin or does it look like this child is smiling here, while running away from a horde of darkspawn?? 😶 Kids in the Anderfels are build different, I guess. lol

"In war, victory."

CHILLS!!

Then we see Assan again, who is pinning down a.. thing I can't identify. lol I'm very curious about all those cages in the background though.. 🤔

We then get one of the shots that made me freak out the most, because it's a flippin *underwater* shot of elven ruins??? 😱😱

We know it's elven because if you look very very closely, you can see a Halla statue in the distance, to the left side. I'm immediately reminded of the stories about Arlathan having sunken to the ocean floor! There's also still all that mention of Ghilan'nain's grey "goop" that smells like the ocean and another shot later on of a dragon (Elgar'nan?) emerging from the ocean! 👀👀👀

And aside from all that, it's just such a sick level design!! 😍 What do these ruins look like if you enter them in the game? How do we get there?? There's an eluvian in the middle of the ocean on the newest map that's included in the Collector's Edition! 👀👀 If that one flippin theory of mine actually turns out to be true and there are somehow two parts of Arlathan, one on the ocean floor and another in the center of the Fade/the Black City, I'll do a triple backflip. lmaoo

Then Lucanis jumps in with some incredibly smooth fighting moves against the Venatori... and PURPLE WINGS!! So we were right with our speculation about the reveal trailer! Why does he have them? Is it some connection to a pride demon that revived him? 😂 I don't know, but it looks SO cool!! And after showing off, we hear his first line "I'm ready" with that sweet sweet accent, which is just the cherry on top!! <333

What the heck is up with the sky in this one?? My first thought was the Lighthouse?? 😍😍 Because if you look closely, there are a few wolf head ornaments on the walls? 👀 And this could be in the Crossroads and just like a real Lighthouse, there's a light on the top..? 🥹

Then there's Bellara using some magical device, that looks super similar to the things that were next to the big eluvian in that other scene!

Which makes me think that this might be where we help Bellara find this artifact in order to get the eluvian at the Lighthouse to work properly (since it doesn't seem to work right without Solas, according to the Game Informer article).

"I've never seen this before. There's something kind of exciting about it!"

Not gonna lie, that line and that weird looking device gave me Peebee flashbacks from Andromeda, which I honestly wasn't the biggest fan of. 😂 But Ghil Dirthalen (member of the community council) responded to me a few weeks back on twitter and confirmed that Bellara is nothing like Peebee at all. lol So that's a relief. 😂 I'm really looking forward to learn more about her and every time I see her magical gauntlet, I'm reminded that we're *definitely* not in Ferelden anymore. lol

Anyway, we then get a few shots of the Deep Roads?? Kal-Sharok??? 👀👀 And of course, there's Harding's big reveal of her new magical powers! The animation on this looks sooo amazing!!

Like many suspect, the Titans' awakening might have something to do with this! I totally agree with what Ghil Dirthalen said on twitter recently and, rather than this being Harding having Solas' petrification powers, it's actually Solas who has the powers of the Titans/stone sense/whatever Sandal did to those ogres back then lol. (I need Sandal to return and be her "teacher" or something 🙏❤️) We know of Solas' orb, which was likely created by obtaining the heart of a Titan. And if the Titans are connected to the Forgotten Ones, Fen'Harel was once considered their ally in Dalish legends. 👀

Also, if you look closely, you can see that the moment her powers are triggered, we see the blue glowy effect all over her body, like glowy lyrium veins almost?

And that in turn could hint at something in connection to her blood? So that big injury we see on her (which is still visible in this scene btw!) was maybe the moment her blood came in contact with something that awakened these powers? (We need Valta back to explain! lol)

"What is happening to me?"

That delivery gave me chills again... She is frightened. Ali Hillis is so good. 🥺🥺🥺

Next up is the Grand Necropolis and people have already pointed out that the ceiling we see at that entrance hall or something looks like a GIANT rip cage?? 💀 (What kind of creature would be THIS big???)

First look of Emmrich in-game!!! And he's wearing a fancy new outfit!! And I paused at the perfect moment to catch Rook already falling in love with him, clearly. lmao

There are two characters next to the gate that could be anybody, really. Myrna from Tevinter Nights or Joanna from the short story "The Flame Eternal"? The guy on the right is actually giving me Executor vibes?? 👀👀👀

Then there's Giant Skeleton Monster (Manfred's mom?), and don't even ask me what this could possibly be. 😂 I just hope we don't have to fight THAT (we totally will 💀). I got flashbacks of the Human Reaper endboss in ME2. 😭😭

"Let the Fade draw close!"

There's something kinda... posh about the way he says this? 😂 Like, he's not really intimidated by Giant Skeleton Monster and it's just another Tuesday in the Grand Necropolis and Professor Volkarin is just doing his every day job. lol

Then there are two shots of what I think is somewhere in the Anderfels but snowy again, like that area in the beginning where Elgar'nan and Ghili showed up? And a destroyed watchtower that is occupied by the Wardens. Then we get a *third* and final shot of this beauty again.

"Draw the dragon out into the open. Then attack."

I assume that's Taash?? Sadly, that shot of her drawing her weapon is all we got from her in this trailer, but she looks awesome!! <333 We're gonna be Lord of Fortune buddies, even though we might disagree on the matter of dragon hunting lol (look, I don't want to *fight* dragons, I want to be *friends* with them 🫠😂❤️ I want to see them live their best lifes.. for the most part (I get to the Elgar'nan dragon and the blighted "twin dragons" in a second lol))

We see the docks of Minrathous for a split second and then a first glimpse at a romance scene between Rook and Neve? 👀 At the Lighthouse maybe?

"You and me Rook. Maybe that's what scares me."

What does she mean by that exactly? Does Neve have commitment issues? lol Or is this more like a "We're a dangerous match, Rook. We'll be too powerful of a couple. Like Bonnie and Clyde." kinda statement? 😂

And THEN... Well, then we get probably THE most badass looking introduction/entrance of any character in DA yet. lol And YES, I freaked out SO hard.

SHE'S BACK. Returning like the QUEEN that she is. 🙏 And of course, she has to come down a flight of "stairs" again. lol (And no, Claudia Black did not lie, she just wasn't contacted at the time. 😁) Gosh, that transformation is so SMOOTH. I could watch that forever, it's so darn beautiful. 😍 Again, the way this is done, cinematically.. just *chef's kiss*.

In retrospect, it seems almost like a given that she would be back because.. well, everything about the way DAI ended. lol Flemeth wanted her to inherit her "godhood", and she looks more than ever like her mother now. Remember the designer notes on that last scene in DAI.

Flemeth intends to let Solas have the power, so long as she can pass the essence of her godhood onto Morrigan, a gift Flemeth had always planned for her daughter yet one Morrigan misunderstood as hostile possession.

So, what exactly is she now? Did she receive whatever Flemeth sent through the eluvian at the end of DAI? Does she carry Mythal now?? If so, does Solas know (I NEED a conversation between those two technically "half-siblings", because Flemeth/Mythal is both their "Mother"? 😂)?? Remember when I said that this one dragon that appears multiple times here reminds me a lot of the dragon on the vinyl cover with the Golden City, which is very likely Mythal? So my very first thought was that the dragon is actually Morrigan?? lol Just throwing that out there.

It seems to me that she is with the Dalish/Veil Jumpers in the Arlathan Forest now? (Btw, if you look closely, you can see elven mosaics in COLOR in the background? :O)

"These are the times in which legends are born or slain."

That line goes so HARD aHhhh. Also, speaking of slain, that new outfit is slaying too. <33 Her return also means that the Well decision and potential consequences are back on the table, which will definitely keep me up at night again. 💀

That moment right there. She is everthing. ❤️❤️❤️ I wonder if we're gonna see Kieran again?? 🥺🥺

We then get the most impressive tracking shot and choreography of what I think is Teia and Viago fighting some Venatori?? <333333 Like, seriously, the way the camera is following his movements in this shot without a single cut, makes me think of something like flippin Games of Thrones' Battle of the Bastards. 😱 And those hair physics on Teia as she's swinging around?? Absolutely amazing.

Followed by Lucanis and.. is that Zara Renata (the character with the best name ever lol)?? Fighting over an ominous glowing staff. lol We know these two still had unfinished business with each other after the Wigmaker Job in TN.

Then we get our first in-game look of my man MANFRED (🎉🎉🎉🎉), proving yet again to be the most fashionable character in the whole game, using his pelvis effectively. lol I love him so much.

Then there's another terrifying shot of Giant Skeleton Monster, which almost looks like it's in command over the crowd of people here, like they're possessed or something? Uhg.. As if this thing wasn't scary enough. 💀

"Our gods are back. Our gods! How do we stand up against that?"

Again, CHILLLLS!! Chills all over. It's gonna be so interesting to hear what the Dalish, Bellara or Davrin think about all these revelations!

Then we see the Wardens again, confronting one of the super duper blighted "twin dragons" we see at the end (more on that later).

We see Neve using a barrier or something against a guy who wears the same armor as her, so maybe the Shadow Dragons are corrupted, too?

Then we see Rook dramatically tossing a sword on a table at Weisshaupt? And holy moly, Davrin in that new armor here looks FINE. 😍

Back in Treviso, we see a cool finishing move from Rook, obliterating a poor Venatori guy. That bow on Rook's back though (I need it)! :O

"I believe in all of us. So let's get it done."

That little pep talk from Rook certainly worked for me. lol Like, whatever it is we're doing here, I'm so pumped, let's gooooo!

Then we get literally a millisecond of a frame, where you can see Ghili lying on the floor.. with the lyrium dagger stuck IN HER CHEST??

EXCUSE ME?? They wouldn't just spoil her death like that, right?? lmao Also, that adds another billion questions about this damn flippin dagger and at this point the list of questions is getting so long that I've completely given up speculating. 😂💀 We see how Rook tries to retrieve(?) the dagger but the power it emanates pushes them back?? What the heeellll.

And then I died. No, really. lmaoo

What can I say.

I cried. I screamed. My soul left my body. It happened. We FINALLY saw him. The Dreaded Wolf, He Who Hunts Alone, Roamer of the Beyond, God of Rebellion. The one everyone's been talking about since flippin 2009. And by GOD, he lives up to his NAME.

He's dreadful, he's horrifying. He's a monster, a nightmare. He's perfect. And just like Solas, he's just a Little Guy and bald. 😭😭😭

...At least in comparison to this dragon!! Look at that friggin SIZE DIFFERENCE. Someone measured the size by comparing them to Rook, who we see for a split second before Fenny leaps in. So, make no mistake, Fen'Harel IS the size of a high dragon, like he was described in Tevinter Nights... It's just that this blighted dragon is HUMONGOUS. lol That dragon, let's call him Elgar'nan, because we all KNOW, right?? Who else could it POSSIBLY be?? He's got the horns, he's the dragon on the vinyl cover with the Blighted Black City, he's ENORMOUS!! I've been saying this forever. Fen'Harel vs Elgar'nan, Battle of Gods was all I ever wished to see and FUCK, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT WISH CAME TRUE. 😭😭😭

And look WHERE they are fighting!! It's Minrathous, you can clearly see the floating building in the background!! Which means the Dread Wolf is OUT. He's no longer trapped, or in the Fade. Remember Sandal's prophecy "When he rises, everyone will see". And he HAS RISEN. lmao And look at the lighting!! It's the same dim, gloomy RED we've seen at the end of the reveal trailer with the eclipse. "AN ECLIPSE AS FEN'HAREL STIRRED". IT'S HAPPENING. Remember the 2020 teaser MURAL.

Is this the Black City or is it the floating building?? Either way, it's BLIGHTED. In the trailer, Minrathous has clearly been completely taken over by the Blight. "All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign", that's what Elgar'nan said at the end of the 2023 teaser, and what better way to take over the world than to start with the biggest capital in Thedas, a nation which built their own empire over the ruins of Elvhenan, ruled by the most powerful mages!

And I am SO scared. You can see Elgar'nan snapping Fenny. The dragon is blighted, and maybe so is Fen'Harel. He's also clearly been through so much. "The Wolf chews his leg off to escape the trap.", is what Cole said in Trespasser. I don't think he always looked like that. In the murals and the 2022 cinematic, he has a lot more fur. And I can't help but think about the devs saying that Solas wasn't always bald either. lmao How are they connected.. are they one and the same.. are they bound to each other.. we still don't know. But I'm SO. F*CKING EXCITED. TO FIND OUT.

Those few seconds of this scene were breathtaking and whoever made this trailer knew exactly what they were doing, because the editing is so perfect as Fen'Harel charges at Elgar'nan in slow-motion and the music cuts out completely while that beautiful wolf howl can be heard and you can almost HEAR everyone's jaw dropping on the floor. lmao THAT's. how. you. do it. *standing ovation* *sobbing*

Okay. Breathe. Moving on. We gotta get to the end. lol

The very next shot is SO funny to me, because we literally just got to see Elgar'nan, the biggest flippin dragon we've ever seen in DA and it's followed by a shot in which Elgar'nan looks SO tiny next to Ghilan'nain. lmaooo

His ego doesn't allow to appear small though, I guess, so he f*cking levitates to top her in height. lmao These two ancient clowns are already killing me.

What's interesting though is that this is the exact same angle from which we left off in the gameplay showcase. And Solas is nowhere to be seen, so... did he literally just "poof" away right there into that Fade prison?? lmao

We get a quick montage of all the lovely monsters we will face. Like I mentioned, there's the Elgar'nan dragon taking a swim in the ocean, I guess? (I hope he drowns. lol) And a shot of what I think is Irelin (from TN and The Missing) doing.. something with some magical device. Someone fighting a magical "automaton" in the Arlathan Forest. lol Harding doing her THING again, acting like Toph from Avatar, literally bending the flippin earth, like a true Child of the Stone!!

And right before the end, there's one of my personal favorite shots, Rook basically bitch slapping a Pride demon into full K.O.?? lmao

The trailer ends with a final beautiful shot of Pokemon Ruby & Sapphire. lol No, seriously. A SUPER blighted pair of angry dragons, seemingly at the same snowy place that Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain popped up earlier in the trailer. 👀👀👀

So, they might have something to do with this? There was a dead dragon lying on the ground in an earlier shot, so maybe the elven gods revived them? If I see Blue and Red, I'm of course immediately reminded of lyrium.. whatever that means. Or, given that they seem to be attacking Grey Wardens in this place... maybe we are looking at an altered form of Archdemons?? Or something similar to Corypheus' dragon? 👀 There is an interesting theory floating around that Ghilan'nain might look like *that* because she somehow merged with her lover Andruil. As I mentioned in the beginning, Ghilan'nain seemed to have been struck by a spear or something.. and in this shot, you can see that the red dragon is pulling a spear out of its body! Sooo... maybe that actually IS her?? And she somehow transformed into two different blighted dragons, representing herself and Andruil??? The tinfoil hat is strong with this one. lol

ANYWAY. The release date is revealed to be 31st of October, making this the best Halloween of all time!! Not only is it perfect because of its origin, Samhain, the thinning of the Veil between the living and spirits.. But also because we all get a chance to dress up as Manfred, walk into the store, buy the game and then go Trick or Treat (but mostly trick) in the name of Fen'Harel, the Trickster God. 😂😂💜💜💜

And that's it!! Now we only have to wait two months before we can all lose our collective shi— NO WAIT, OF COURSE WE'RE NOT DONE YET.

WHAT THE HELL

IS THIS

EXCUSE ME, how do you throw this in there in the background at the very last second, HELLO??? A rocky object, split in half. HUH, WHERE HAVE WE SEEN THAT BEFORE.

Oh, you sneaky sneaky people. The mural depicting a Titan's death.... Remember the description of this place in DAI's files.

"A final eluvian is situated in a beautiful bolt-hole where Solas has painted murals. Fen'Harel was here and wanted to make sure nobody ever found what the other gods were doing. This place was the breaking point for him that turned him against the gods."

Whatever this is... I think it might be the very reason why all of this is even happening. The Evanuris mined the Titans' blood and "something else" before they collapsed and sealed the Deep Roads with stone and magic.

"Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

"What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

I'll leave it at that. I'm so so so flippin excited. I want to thank all the devs involved, I'm so full of joy and can't wait to finally return back to Thedas in October. 🥹🥹🥹 (And if anyone wants to get me that "Rook's coffer" collectibles thing for my birthday two days after release, my address is— naah just kidding!! ..or AM I?? 👀😂😂)!! 💜💜💜💜💜

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #tinfoil time #datv #datv spoilers #solas #da4 #and now I go lie on the floor lmao #until October 31st lol #*crying of happiness*#the hype is REAL

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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

Text

The Enemy’s Embrace

a/n: This doesn’t really has any big background. I saw a book quote on TikTok and thought that the scene would fit so well in a yandere scenario. So I wrote it! Hope you guys enjoy it :3

Warnings: Yandere, Mention of Stalking, Mention of unconsenting actions, Mention of Killing, Soft Yandere

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A shuddering sigh escaped your shivering lips as your gaze fell from the lattice above your head to the cell bars keeping you locked inside the cell.

There were so many things wrong with you being thrown in the dungeon. You didn't commit the crimes you were accused of and never fought the guards to deserve the resentment they've harbored. They had been downright glad to deliver you into the outdoor cell despite the early-winter cold setting in already, telling you you 'deserved' it.

Why did this happen?

Even after days, you lamented the questions of why and how, but the realization—a realization that made you angry beyond measure, furious and wild—had long set in. No matter how much you tried to ignore it for the sake of your own sanity, it wouldn't let you forget the reason you were here.

Not least because the reason kept talking to you with an awfully smug grin on his face as he waited for you to break.

"I don't mind sharing, you know?"

"I know," you mumbled, turning your back towards your cellmate and hitting your head against the cold stone to remain composed. You knew. You knew so well. The man wouldn't stop talking, belittling you with every word he uttered. And you knew he didn't mind sharing at the cost of you giving in to him.

It was driving you mad.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched your arch nemesis, the man you hated most in the entire world, flap his beautiful fur coat into the air, exposing the free space he had underneath to spare for you. That was if you could lose your dignity and sit between his legs, allowing this awful man to envelop you in a warm embrace.

He was grinning, as always, when he caught your eyes. Smugly. Challenging. Aware. Aware that you were slowly freezing to death in just your clothes while he had cozily bundled up in luxury unbefitting of a prisoner. He had been here longer than you, thrown into this dungeon for his crimes before they even came to get you. Someone took pity on the man who presented himself oh-so-dramatic and charming when he wasn't an insane villain. He just had to wail to and flirt with some of the noble ladies passing by the lattice until one of them decided to drop the poor man such a fine fur coat to survive the cold.

It wasn't like he could come near you or hurt you again from his position, bound by chains around his wrists that weren't short enough to immobilize him but not long enough to walk away from his spot. But even after all this time, he still enjoyed the torment of your suffering; every breath you blew against your icy fingers sending a shiver of excitement down his spine.

Sadly, no one thought of gagging him as would be appropriate for a notorious liar. Though the court believed you initially when you told them about his misbehavior—the following, the touches, the murders all in your name—somehow, he convinced them that you weren't an innocent part in all of this. There was nothing you could have done to convince them of your innocence after he charmed his way into the hearts of the jury with fake reasoning and pleading for justice. He opened his mouth, and everyone played his game—except you.

For these reasons, you hated him. And for your rejection, he loved you.

He could have had anyone, even a noble knight or the princess of the kingdom. But he wanted you, specifically, and preferably on your knees, begging for him. His taunting invitation to a warm huddling under the fur was just another way to torment you. He simply wanted to have you just because he decided you belonged to him, and crush your mind to fill it with the same insanity as his.

You had fought him for years. You barely escaped him on so many occasions. But while it had felt like victory to see him being dragged off by guards to his new home, the outdoor cell you hope he'd never escape from, in the end, it had all been in vain. And as you stood in the cell, facing the grey stone wall, this realization was the hardest to accept in all your life.

Because you were really fucking cold.

Even if you had thought about the possibility of yourself dying while getting rid of this lunatic, the thought still pained you. Things had gone wrong many times, but you always made it. You wanted to live. You fought so hard for your freedom and to survive. How could you possibly just throw it out now and allow him to lure you into his grasp?

"What must I do to make you come here and stop being so wary of me? When have I ever done something for you to hate me so?"

Even when he let out a defeated sigh before he spoke, his voice was nothing but mockery. He once again played the role of a savior. A gentleman, a soft-hearted soul in a cruel world. He was right that the world was a cruel place, especially for a genuine and kind person like you. But if you needed saving, you didn't want it to be from an actor who played the role of the selfless hero while grinning at the blood on his own hands.

"I'm good," you replied coldly, much like you were feeling. Hugging your body, you sunk to the ground, rocking yourself back and forth while trying to ignore the annoying villain on the other side of the cell. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine the summer sun shining down, warming your skin instead of the cold winter breeze ramming into you. Things would have been much easier if he had stopped talking.

"Not to unnerve you, but despite always being stunningly beautiful, the color of your lips is slowly making me nervous, too. We both know you are freezing."

He just wouldn't shut up.

"I. Don't. Want. You. Near. Me," you repeated the same phrase you've been telling him from day one. A phrase he usually liked to ignore and keep sputtering. However, not this time, and suspicion forced you to open one eye to see what he was doing as he didn't reply.

He was simply staring at you. Blankly, unnervingly. You had to look away because his unblinking eyes were unsettling to look into, wide like those of cats staring at an object of desire but void of the empathy of a human.

"Frankly, I don't care what you want," he muttered quietly, barely audible over the howling of the wind. "But if I beg you to come here and let me warm you, will that help? Would you stop torturing me with that pitiful sight of you if I pleaded and said 'please' and 'pretty please'? If I could, I would already be by your side regardless of if you'd let me, but don't you have pity on me, too? Pity on the man who has to watch the love of his life slowly freeze to death while he can't do anything to save you?"

You were so tired of his tirades. The endless amount of garbage he spoke as easily and freely as a bard sang of overdramatized adventures of heros without flinching about their lies. "Please," he breathed. "Please let me warm you."

Another shiver ran through you—from the cold or the desperation in his voice, you weren't sure—but you didn't move from your seat. Didn't give him the gratification of acknowledging him even if your body began to burn from the cold. You heard the rustling of chains, and when you finally looked up, you could see him twist and turn his wrists in the cuffs, trying to loosen them somehow. Only when he noticed your gaze on him did he change from fighting the restraint to giving in.

Letting his hands sink to the ground as far as the chains allowed, he kneeled on all fours before reaching up one hand, ignoring how the cuff cut off the blood flow to his hand. He could never reach you, but he was still trying. No matter what, he never ceased to pursue you, even in the most impossible situations. It made you shiver even more to know the person that selfishly claimed you as his, had the determination of a starving lion to get what he wanted even when he was chained and immobilized.

"I'm begging you," your enemy emphasized. "I'm begging you to let me help you. Let me hold you, so we can survive this together—or die trying. Together. Don't die so far away from me where I can't reach you. Can't even follow you... I can't even hold your hand. Please don't leave me like this. Please just... forgive me. Have mercy on my unworthy, oppressed heart."

Your eyelids were growing weary from the cold, and your mind even more so from his words. But as your movements slowly stilled, conflicting, old thoughts came to mind. Thoughts that you had chugged into the deepest drawer of your mind after he had been imprisoned. Thoughts you hoped never to have to resurface.

I'll survive this. I can escape him no matter what happens. This is not the end.

Slowly, weakly, your arm stretched out. The realization turned your enemy's expression into a surprised one, then he lept forward, ignoring any restraint and the impact on his body as he reached for your hand. His fingers barely grazed yours, but as you collapsed forward, he managed to snatch your wrist, keeping your face from hitting the dirty ground you two were seated on.

And before you knew it, you were enveloped in warmth.

He shifted all around you for a while until your feet were tugged in and under his legs, body covered by the fur and his—probably hurting—arms, one hand holding the coat closed around you so no draft could touch you, while the other one pressed your head into his chest, his chin resting on top of your hair. Completely absorbing you into the little warm orb that was the world he lived in.

"Finally," he sighed, turning his face downwards to nuzzle it into your hair, ignoring the grime that must have built for days. As if nothing about you could scare him off. He didn't seem bothered by anything as long as it concerned you, but you ignored anything he did for once, letting out a long sigh as the warmth slowly thawed you.

"You're not getting out of this one," he mumbled, planting a reverent kiss on your head, filled with the fulfillment of his longing for you, drawing it out as long as possible. Hand reaching up, he cupped your face and warmed your cold cheek with his palm while his thumb caressed you as if you were the most precious object he ever held in his grasp. "I finally have you," he muttered, and you couldn't help a weak huff as the words ever so softly reached you.

"You can't escape me now. You're all mine. Finally. I waited so long for the day you'd finally give in to me. I'll get us out of here, and you'll never have to want for anything, I promise. I'd do anything for you. You know that."

You simply let him keep brabbling while he kept you warm. Fearing that if you refused him now, he too would reject you. That this really would be the end despite all the hardships you had overcome up to this point. You felt nothing of the worship he felt for you, for him, but if this was the only way to stay alive, you'd bite your tongue and let him confess a million more of his crimes to your ears only. You'd overcome this all the same.

You'd survive this, too.

But for now, you'd be warm, cradled in your enemy's embrace.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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eddiesghxst · 1 year ago

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 2/12)

hiii here's these two again, enjoy!!

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie still hates you, you're way too nice, and gareth fucked up big time

contains: enemies to lover trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, reader gets injured (nothing crazy), eddie hooking up with someone that's not reader, mean eddie, sexual themes, a glimpse of needy n sad eddie, mild violence (eddie punches someone), and Eddie being nosey <3

word count: 5.6k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie can’t do it.

He can’t fucking stand you. He hates that you’re everywhere, always around, always lingering— like a fucking hawk— just silently watching and waiting for one of them to fuck up. And he hates that you carry that fucking journal everywhere, always jotting down notes about whatever bullshit you write about— and he’s sure it isn’t any good either way because most of the time, the band does the same shit every day. There’s nothing for you to write about. They do a show, hang out backstage, catch wind of some party, stay out until they can’t physically walk anymore, and crash as soon as they get to the hotel.

It’s the same shit. Yet, you’re always writing something down as if something new has happened— as if it’s something intriguing and eye-catching.

You barely talk for the first few days; you just watch and observe, and Eddie thinks this must be how animals at the zoo feel— on display and putting up some fascinating show. He hates it.

After the third show, you start to loosen around the edges and start actually talking, like a normal human being. You talk to Jeff the most, laugh at his shitty jokes and ask him questions about songs and lines he’s written in past songs, and Eddie hates that. He hates watching you sit next to Jeff and scribble in your journal as Jeff strums out a new hook.

He hates that whenever he brings you up to Jeff and makes some snide comment about you, Jeff never joins in— just shrugs and says, ‘She’s not too bad, actually.’

As if Eddie would ever believe that.

Gareth hardly pays any mind to you; he's too busy checking out chicks and just… being Gareth, but you’ve talked to him on multiple occasions. Eddie’s caught glimpses of you two chatting at rehearsals or in the green room. You even sat with him at breakfast the other day, and Eddie— Eddie almost blew a gasket because that was his fucking seat.

You’re ruining everything, and nobody seems to notice except for Eddie, and it’s driving him nuts.

“Dude, you’re gonna scare her away if you keep glaring at her like that,” Jeff mumbles, turning back to his guitar as he runs a dust cloth over the neck of the instrument.

They’re in the studio today because there’s no show tonight, and against all of Eddie’s wishes, Richie still invited you to come sit in for their session. Eddie watches through the glass of the sound booth as you settle in on the brown couch, pulling out that stupid journal and a pen, mindlessly clicking it a few times before writing a note. Ridiculous.

Eddie glares at Jeff and works the gum in his mouth as he pulls a face, “Good. She can blow off the face of the earth for all I care.” He grumbles, sitting down in the metal chair beside Jeff.

Jeff looks at him, raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and shakes his head, “She’s not going anywhere, man. You’re gonna fuck it up if you keep being so… hostile toward her.” He points out. Eddie leans back in his chair, pulling out a box of cigarettes and sparking up. “I’m not gonna be the one to fuck it up,” Eddie mumbles through smoke, “You guys are practically feeding her all the information she needs on a silver fucking platter. She’s a goddamn shark.”

Jeff scoffs and says nothing more as he continues cleaning his guitar. Eddie glances at you and watches you talk to the producer, smiling and laughing at something that Eddie can’t hear because the mic is off and the door is closed.

Aside from how annoying and creepishly lurk-y you are, Eddie can admit you’re pretty. You have a pretty face, pretty smile, pretty hair, a bright look in your eyes that Eddie can’t stand because you look at the rest of the band like they hung the fucking moon when they speak. You look at everyone as if they’re so important, and Eddie thinks that’s dumb.

He glances at Jeff, watches him silently for a moment, and glances back at you, takes a hit of his cigarette before speaking, “You like her?” he asks.

Jeff glimpses at Eddie and laughs with a shake of his head, “Isn’t that precisely what you’re pissed about?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, like,” he kicks the heel of his shoe into the floor, “Do you wanna fuck her?”

Jeff pauses his task and watches as Eddie puffs on his cigarette. “I have a girlfriend, Eddie.” He reminds the boy. Eddie glances at him and scoffs, “That chick from Chicago? Thought that was just for fun.” He responds.

Eddie remembers the girl from a few weeks back, remembers Jeff sneaking her on the bus while they had dinner. He didn’t know they were serious.

Jeff shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, “No, man. She’s come to like every show— and her name is Naomi; she’s not a chick.”

Eddie grunts in response, burning to the end of his cigarette when Jeff stands up and nudges him with his foot, “Just talk to her, dude. She’s not as bad as you think she is, and she asks good questions— actual questions, about the music and shit. None of that,” he waves a hand in gesture, “stupid shit we get from reporters. She’s good. Just try.”

Jeff leaves Eddie to mill about it and finish off cigarette, snuffing it out in the ashtray sitting on the amp. Eddie doesn’t believe Jeff one bit; he thinks you’re a liar who’s mastered the art of manipulation and has weaseled your way into gaining his friends' trust. He doesn’t believe you are here for the music, as Jeff had said; he thinks— knows— that you’re here to find the cracks.

You’re here to find the cuts and bruises and press into them so you can tear them apart piece by piece. A starved monster, preying on his band for some sick and twisted story to feed the media so you can climb the ladder of your industry. Eddie has met and knows people like you, and he can call your bluff from a mile away.

He doesn’t believe Jeff. But he does, however, know how to play your game.

The next day is show day— the fifth show of the residency, and Eddie is in a good mood. He woke up with a girl in his bed, got high, went for a short walk to a nearby cafe, and even signed a few autographs for some lovely fans. On top of that, you haven’t shown up for rehearsals yet, and Eddie thinks the world is working in his favor today if you skip.

He’s playful today. He jumps on Gareth’s back and makes him run down the rows of the arena, screaming and hollering like wild animals. He and Jeff take Richie’s golf cart and go for a spin backstage, giggling when the security chases them and tells them speeding backstage is prohibited. They don’t listen, though; Eddie ignores everyone’s warnings and keeps hauling ass down the nearly empty hallways, swerving around boxes and equipment like a madman.

And Eddie may be mean sometimes; he may push people's buttons for the hell of it and do things he knows he shouldn’t just to get a reaction out of it, but Eddie isn’t cruel. He isn’t a psychopath who likes hurting people, so he doesn’t mean to speed past you and spook you badly enough to stumble into a stack of road cases.

Eddie saw you, and he tried to warn you, yelled out for you to move out of the way, and even honked, but you had a pair of headphones stuffed over your ears so that you couldn’t hear the squealing wheels of the golf cart or Eddie’s warning. He almost took you out. Almost. But he didn’t because he swerved at the last second, and you panicked and stepped back, stumbling on the heel of your shoe and falling onto the cold cement floor, slamming your back against the black boxes.

Eddie curses and comes to a screeching halt, parking the golf cart and following Jeff as he jogs over to you, quickly asking if you’re okay and helping you to sit up. As you speak, your face is twisted in confusion, wincing and sitting up, “I’m fine, I just— I just fell, it’s fine.”

Eddie watches from a few feet back as Jeff helps you stand up, face pinching in an expression of pain when you put your weight onto your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t believe it for a second. “I think you might need to get that checked—” Eddie cuts Jeff off and speaks the first thought that comes to his mind, “Why didn’t you move out of the way?”

You look at him, anger replacing your look of pain as you glare at Eddie. You grip the band of your headphones and wave it at him, “Because I didn’t fucking hear you, jackass.” You snap. “What, you couldn’t see the big ass machine hurling your way?”

“No,” you seethe, “You shouldn’t have been driving that fast anyways; this isn’t my fault. The least you could do is say fucking sorry.” You spat. And Eddie just thinks you’re a brat. Before Eddie can respond with an even bitchier response, Jeff is cutting in with a wave of his hands, “Okay, this is fucking stupid,” he scoffs, “just let me drive you to medic so you can get checked.”

Eddie doesn’t even bother helping Jeff get you to the golf cart; he simply watches as you fake your limp all the way to the vehicle and thank Jeff for helping you get in. Jeff looks back to Eddie and raises an eyebrow, “Are you coming, man?”

Eddie wouldn’t willingly spend a minute with you if someone paid him to do it.

He shakes his head with a scoff and tells them to go on, he’ll meet them at the stage later on, and Jeff takes off without another word.

“Did you try to hit the journalist with a fucking golf cart?”

Eddie’s good mood is long gone.

After the whole golf cart fiasco, Eddie took his time walking around backstage and burning through cigarettes before finding himself in the room filled with snacks and drinks. He’s standing at the table filled with chips and sodas when Richie storms in and starts causing a goddamn scene.

“What—” “You know what I’m talking about.” Richie snaps. Eddie’s face twists in annoyance, “I didn’t try to fucking hit her; she didn’t move out of the goddamn way because she’s an idiot,” Eddie grumbles, returning to his task of sifting through the different brands of chips. Eddie doesn’t believe you’re actually hurt. That pathetic fall was as minor as a fall can get, and he thinks Jeff and anyone else who believes your shitty acting skills is dumber than a rock.

Richie snatches the bag of chips out of Eddie’s hand and tosses them onto the table, ignoring Eddie’s protest as he speaks, “She sprained her fucking ankle, man.”

Eddie scoffs, “She’s faking it, Richie; anybody with brains can see that from a mile away.” He rolls his eyes. Richie looks at Eddie as if he’s lost his mind, as if Eddie is the worst villain to ever grace the goddamn planet, “You’re fucked up,” and Eddie’s stomach twists in some weird way he can’t explain.

“You have some serious fucking issues, man. That girl did nothing to you, and you treat her like shit.” Richie spits, and Eddie hates how his throat feels tight, like someone shoved a golf ball down his throat. “Get over yourself.”

Richie leaves Eddie in the empty room, silent and, against Eddie’s wishes, feeling like the shittiest man alive.

Eddie’s good mood feels like a dream now.

He’s silent throughout rehearsals. He sings his parts half-assed and plays his solos half-assed, too. You watch from the side of the stage, propped up on one of the road cases to take the weight off your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t even glance in your direction the entire time. He avoids you at all costs, leaving the room when you walk in, going the other direction you’re walking in, and even skipping lunch to avoid crossing paths.

You’ve been like a ghost all day; everywhere Eddie goes, you’re somehow there, walking with a shitty limp as if trying to rub it into Eddie’s face that, ‘You did this. This is your fault.’ and Eddie can’t stand it. By the time the doors open to the arena, Eddie is more than ready to finish the show and steer clear of all traces of you.

You watched the show on the TV in the dressing room, silently snacking on a bag of Ritz crackers with your foot propped up on the coffee table beside the couch. The medic advised you to avoid putting pressure on your ankle for the next few days so you couldn’t have your usual front-row view of the show.

The boys do good; they perform a new song they’re working on, and the crowd seems to have loved it. As usual, they get up to their ritual backstage antics, pregaming for whatever party they’ll attend, loud and obnoxious music, and cheering on whatever drinking game they’ve made up. You’re silently writing in your journal, updating the last entry on what you’ve witnessed today. Interpretations on the new music, drabbles on what you and Gareth briefly discussed about his childhood, and quick notes on whatever comes to mind while writing.

You hardly notice Eddie stumbling through the dressing room door until you hear him bumping into the side table with a curse. You look up, silently watching as he looks around the room, searching for something you’re unsure of. You try to keep your voice level to not scare him, but he is startled either way, “What are you looking for?”

His eyes are low, puffy around the edges from the alcohol he’d tossed back earlier, hair tousled with curly strands clinging to his lips. His lips are slick, swollen, and red, clothes askew on his lean frame. His jeans are unbuttoned, belt clinking as he sways a bit, licking his lips as he stammers, “Uh… my uh, my jacket—” he blinks, stumbling to lean against the door and blinking hard, “M’looking for my jacket.”

Your eyebrows raise as you watch him, the disheveled and captivating mess he is, bleary eyes gazing at you through a cloud of eyeshadow and whiskey. You breathe and point to the chair in front of the vanity, “It’s over there.”

His gaze follows your lead, landing on his strewn jacket, cursing as he walks across the room. You busy yourself with your journal, picking up where you’d left off. You can hear Eddie rustling behind you, and you try to avoid glancing back at him, but you fail, glancing in time to watch as he leans forward into the mirror to tug at misplaced strands of his hair.

He’s silent for a moment before clearing his throat, glancing back at you through the mirror, “I’m uh… I’m sorry about,” he gestures to your elevated foot, forgetting you’re not even facing him, and rubbing the back of his hand to rub his nose and sniffling, “About your foot… Was really shitty of me.”

You glance back at him, a ghost of a smile gracing your lips, “Thank you, Eddie. I appreciate your apology.”

Eddie scoffs, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and shoving a stick between his lips with quivering fingers, “Yeah, well, that’s the first and last apology you’ll ever get from me so…” you silently watch as he lights his cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke and glancing at you through the mirror, “cherish it.”

You quietly sigh and shift in your seat, ignoring his remark, “You going out tonight?” You ask.

You watch as he steps away from the vanity and walks over to the couch, plopping down on the farthest side from you with a deep sigh, “That’s the routine.” He mumbles around a cloud of smoke.

You nod, an uncomfortable silence settling over the two of you as you continue writing. Eddie is slumped down in his seat, quietly puffing on his cigarette as he gazes at you through low lids, “What are you writing?”

You look at him; pen paused over the sentence you’d been writing as you tilt your head, “I’m working on my piece… you know, the piece you’re starring in.” Eddie grumbles in response with a single nod of his head, and his eyes are so low you’d almost think he’s falling asleep if it weren’t for his determination to finish his cigarette.

“Why— why haven’t you asked me anything?” Eddie asks.

You look at him, doing your best to keep a neutral expression as you fold your hands over the paper of your notebook, “I wasn’t under the impression you wanted to be… bothered.”

Eddie glances at you, scoffing, and you remind yourself that you’ve already somehow made the man despise you, so it’d be better to hold your tongue, opting not to remind him of the shitty attitude he’s had since you met. “I’m part of the band, aren’t I?” He shrugs, picking at the loose threads of his ripped jeans. “Shouldn’t I have as much coverage as… Jeff?” He mumbles, and you think he might be under the impression that you can’t hear him, but you do either way.

Your eyebrows raise, and you shift in your seat once again, “Well… would you like me to ask you some questions?”

Eddie is more gentle when he is drunk, you think. More pliable, softer. The stone-hard deflective shield he has thrown up for you has withered beneath the alcohol. Where his eyes are usually cold and sharp, they are now softer and telling— of what, you’re not sure yet. He shifts further into the couch and shrugs, and you take a deep breath and flip to a clean page, scribbling Eddie’s name in the corner.

“Okay, Eddie,” you begin, turning ever so slightly to face him. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me about who you are aside from the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” You glance between your notebook and Eddie, patiently waiting as he takes a drag of the burning paper. He looks at you, the majority of his face shielded behind unruly dark curls, and the room is so silent it’s nearly deafening.

Eddie shakes his head so gently you almost don’t notice the movement, “I don’t…” he bounces his leg once, “I thought this was about the music.”

You nod, “It is.”

Eddie gently blinks, like if he blinks too hard, the earth might shatter, and you think it’s beautiful, and you think you might hate that.

“It’s about the music, but I can’t write about the music without knowing the creator, can I?”

Eddie looks at you, eyes almost clear with lips parted around smoke. He blinks again, and you smile in encouragement, situating the pen in your grip. He looks at you, studies you, his gaze dropping to your awaiting hand, and his face twists in some expression you can’t put a finger on.

Before Eddie can speak, the door opens, both of your heads snapping toward the door as a tipsy Gareth pops his head inside, “Eddie, come on man, the car’s here.”

If Gareth had noticed the odd combination of you and Eddie sitting on the same couch, willingly enduring each other's presence, he wouldn’t mention it.

You look back to Eddie, and you almost want to stop him as he gets up because, god, you were so fucking close. So close to finally touching Eddie. But he’s gone quicker than he came, the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering like a ghost, and despite Eddie giving you absolutely nothing to write about, you find yourself writing about him either way with nothing but his scent to aid you.

Eddie is drunk, and he can not, for the life of him, stop thinking about you.

A girl is climbing over him in the back of a taxi, and Eddie can only think about you. The look of pain you had when you stood up after falling, the way you looked at him as if he was the bane of your existence— it makes Eddie’s stomach churn, and he wishes the culprit for his nausea was the alcohol, but it’s not. Eddie knows it’s not because the second he thinks about the way you smiled at him in the dressing room, the way you said his name, the way you spoke so gently despite how much of an asshole he’s been to you, Eddie’s sick stomach settles and erupts in this annoying warm flutter.

Eddie can’t think of anything but the fact that he wants you to smile at him more, wants to hear you say his name again, and talk to him in your gentle way.

His face pinches in frustration, fingers gripping the girl's waist as she mouths at his neck. She moans against his skin, grinding down against his bulge and grinning when she feels him rut up against her. Eddie mumbles something, he’s not sure what he mumbles because his brain is split between worlds of scary feelings and arousal, but the girl laughs, scraping her teeth against his thumping pulse, “That journalist?” She asks.

Eddie blinks away the foggy cloud, “Huh?”

Lany pulls away from his neck and looks at him, biting her lip and tilting her head as she rubs up against him again, Eddie grunting in the back of his throat as his face twists in pleasure. “The journalist. You said her name.” Lany hums, drifting her hands up Eddie’s chest and grappling at the collar of his unbuttoned sheer top. Eddie blinks again and shakes his head, “I didn’t,” he denies.

Lany giggles, “You did, Eddie.”

Eddie glances over her shoulder, making awkward eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and he slightly grimaces and looks back to Lany as she leans in, ghosting her lips over his and tauntingly whispering your name. Eddie grunts in protest, squeezing her hips in a warning. Before he can say something, Lany kisses him with a hum before pulling away to where her lips brush against hers as she speaks, “Did you fuck her?”

Eddie pulls away from Lany, a look of distaste on his face as he glares at her, “Did I— what? No,” Eddie cringes as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard— and it’s not, and Eddie… Eddie hates that, he thinks. “No, I didn’t fuck her. Are you serious?” “You want to fuck her then?”

“I want you to stop talking about her,” Eddie counters, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip and watching as he drags the plump flesh down, grinning when Lany nips at his fingertip. “Maybe put these pretty lips to good use, hm?” He taunts, grin widening when she nods and sucks his thumb down to the last knuckle, his jeans tightening at the feeling and sight.

And if Eddie did say your name, he doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he’d been thinking of you for whatever odd, fucked up reason, and he doesn’t try to figure out what that weird flutter feeling is when he thinks about your softness, the softness he’s been depriving himself of.

He doesn’t dwell on any of it because Eddie is drunk, and when Eddie drinks, he thinks of and does stupid things, things that sound good at the moment but will screw him over in the long run.

And Eddie wants nothing to do with you anyway, and it’s not like one half-assed drunken conversation changed that, right?

Eddie’s got a blistering headache and a churning stomach as he stands outside the studio the following day. It’s drizzling, gloomy clouds drooping over the looming buildings of New York, and Eddie always hated this kind of weather; he preferred a full storm over the tease of a shower.

New York has never been Eddie’s favorite place, it’s dirty, and reeks of trash, and the people are shitty, but he likes how easy it is to blend in with the crowd; not many people notice him here, and that’s rare these days.

He’s leaning on the stoop of the building, tiny drops of rain dripping from the portico onto his leather-covered shoulders. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he watches the traffic go by, taking slow puffs to ease his body.

He hardly notices you when you bounce up the stairs until you stand just two steps below him. He glances at you and sees the coffee cups in each of your hands. You extend one out to him, “Would you like one? They accidentally gave me two.” You offer.

And you’re fucking nice. Despite how shitty Eddie has been towards you, you’re still nice to him, and Eddie, for the life of him, can’t stand it. He thinks you’re weird, insane, stupid. Thinks you were probably dropped as a baby more times than anyone can count because there’s no way somebody in their right mind would willingly give him the time of day when he’s treated them as shitty as Eddie has treated you. He nearly ran you over, for Christ's sake.

Still, Eddie doesn’t falter, “No. Probably spit in it on your way here.”

You laugh, and it irks Eddie in a way that makes him want to shiver as if the sound were nails scraping against a chalkboard. He distracts himself with a drag of his cigarette as you say, “I didn’t, but thanks for the idea.”

Eddie grunts in response, focusing on the last of his smoke as you tell him you’ll see him inside before walking up the rest of the stairs. Eddie barely acknowledges you as you pass him, but he acknowledges the sound of something dropping beside his feet. He looks down with pinched eyebrows, eyeing the notebook lying on the wet ground.

It’s your notebook— obviously— he’d know that stupid journal from anywhere. It’s a pale yellow with two leather straps you like to tie in a lousy bow, and Eddie believes it’s an annoying color, but he thinks that has more to do with the fact that you chose it. Mindlessly, Eddie picks it up, shaking off the rainwater before it seeps into the pages, and he turns to give it to you because he’d assumed you realized you dropped it, but you’re gone.

Eddie blinks, eyeing the door and the book in his hands, and Eddie knows he should just follow you and give it back because that’s the right thing to do. Knows he shouldn’t peek inside to see what your mind is like, knows you’d probably kill him because Eddie would do the same if anyone looked into his thousands of journals back home, but his fingers itch, and before he can stop himself, he’s flicking his cigarette bud away, leaning against the building and cracking the front page open.

Eddie’s not sure what he’d expected. Maybe something interesting, like a list of dudes you’ve fucked or some rant about a friend, but Jesus, how much more boring could you get? Grocery lists, reminders to book appointments, dates for work meetings, boring shit that Eddie could care less about. He flicks through nearly half of the book before anything piques his interest, snickering when he comes across a page of you talking about a guy named Danny, “What a sap,” Eddie mumbles to himself, softly chuckling and turning the page.

He flips through a few more pages before halting because Eddie's name is right at the top of the page.

The door opens, and he jumps, fearing you might be searching for your lost journal, but it’s only a staff member. Eddie watches them trot down the steps before returning to the treasure in his hands, eagerly reading as if the book will turn to dust before he gets a chance.

And Eddie thinks he’s fucked up, screwed up in ways he never really wants to address. Despite Eddie’s outwardly attitude of thinking he’s the best at everything and knows all, there are still ugly parts of him that he so badly wants to reach inside and pull like weeds from a garden, crack his chest open, and take it from the root; pieces of him that can make him crumble quicker than a house of cards on a rickety table.

However, the way you write about Eddie— the words you use and the so careful placement of each thought— it makes Eddie feel something he forgot he ever could about himself, and he doesn’t like how it makes his insides twist. He hates it. Eddie hates that you can read him as if he’s a fucking children’s book. Hates that you can see and point out parts of him that have been lost for so long he’d thought it was a dream. He can’t stand it.

But as much as Eddie swears he hates what you’ve written and as much as he hates that it makes him feel something other than disdain, he can’t stop reading. He wants to read all you can say about him and only exist in the imagery you create of him because Eddie, for once in a long time, is someone in your eyes.

You write about Eddie like he is a person, a human being with real feelings and depth and a history of memories you’ve never seen or heard of before, but you still somehow manage to paint him so clearly. Inside your words, Eddie exists as more than the entity that fame has created him to be, and Eddie can’t remember the last time he read something about himself and didn’t feel like a pawn.

It’s… refreshing.

Eddie flips the page, thinking there will be more you’ve written about him, but he’s selfishly disappointed when he realizes it’s just a personal entry. He scans the page, nearly deciding to close it for the day, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar name— Gareth.

It takes Eddie a moment to fully grasp the words you’ve written, the meaning of what exactly you’re explaining that you’d apparently discussed with Gareth. As soon as he lets the words settle into his chest, he’s storming into the building quicker than he can comprehend.

Bursting through the room of Richie's rented studio, Eddie makes a beeline for the sound booth where Gareth is busy tapping out a steady beat.

Eddie barely acknowledges you and the rest of the band in discussion off to the side, but his abrupt appearance has halted all conversation in the room. He storms up to Gareth behind his drum set and wastes no time gripping the man’s collar, gaze lit with fire and words seething as he leans in and glares down at the man. The room goes silent as soon as the question leaves Eddie’s lips, “Did you fuck Chrissy?”

Chrissy Cunningham was Eddie Munson’s high school sweetheart.

As the story goes, Eddie spent the better part of high school crushing on the cute captain of the cheerleading squad. For as long as he can remember, Eddie had been labeled as the school freak— something to do with his love of fantasy games and ‘odd music taste’— so he’d never imagined he would get a chance with Chrissy, but that all changed after a weird spiral of events they experienced together.

Eddie and Chrissy dated for a few years until Corroded Coffin went big. The long-distance trial of their relationship didn’t last long; Eddie rarely called Chrissy, and when he did call, they could only ever find time to argue about whatever Eddie had been photographed doing. Chrissy never came to watch the band once they moved out to LA, and she broke Eddie's heart the one time she did.

So, it’s no surprise that reading the words in your journal has twisted the knife that’d been lodged in Eddie’s chest for so long that he was sure he couldn’t feel it anymore— he was wrong.

Gareth is looking at Eddie as if Eddie has asked him if the sky is blue and Eddie’s mind is a whirling wind of fire. “What are you talking about, man?” Gareth’s eyebrows pinch in confusion.

Eddie sneers and pulls him closer, Gareth leaning so far off his stool that Eddie's grip on his shirt is the only thing keeping him from the ground. Gareth drops his drumsticks to grab Eddie’s wrists as Eddie speaks, “Don’t bullshit me, Gareth. Did you fuck Chrissy, yes or no?”

Eddie looks at his best friend, and he sees lies, something he’s never had to associate with their friendship, and it almost hurts him more than what Chrissy did. Gareth stutters, shaking his head as if he wants to say no, tries to say no and deny that he slept with his best friend's girlfriend, but he can’t.

Gareth whispers Eddie’s name so quietly Eddie nearly misses it, but the quiver in his voice is all Eddie needs to hear to know the truth. Eddie doesn’t take a second to think before he cracks a closed fist down on his best friend's cheek, sending him back, crashing into the symbols in a clatter of noise.

He doesn’t wait to hear Gareth’s spew of apologies, and he doesn’t wait to listen to the pathetic excuses he makes up because he’s marching over to you next, a scowl on his face as he tosses your journal into your lap, and you look up at him in shock, “You dropped this on your way in.”

And if this is the end of Corroded Coffin, then Eddie’s sure you’ll have one hell of a story to write. That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?

A good story.

————

part three

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a/n: AHH U MADE IT TO THE END, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975

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edenesth · 7 months ago

Note

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Dear Soulmate

I'm sorry it took me so long, anon! I didn't know how to approach this and was waiting for a friend to do it first🙈

For my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast💖

Choi San — soulmate au (idiots to lovers)

In a world where soulmates exist, most people discover their other halves before reaching twenty-five, you struggle to find yours, even when he had been right in front of you all along. You've witnessed those around you revelling in the bliss of finding their destined partners, all the while blindly awaiting your own.

"I cannot believe this, I'm dying alone!" you cried.

"Pooks, he'll come when the timing's right, I just know it," Eve, your closest friend and platonic soulmate, reassured you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you poured out your frustration. Despite being on the cusp of turning 26, your soulmate remained elusive.

"How did you and Hwa find each other again?" you asked, desperate for answers.

Eve sighed, "Whenever one of us gets hurt, a flower tattoo appears on the other in the same spot of their body. You know how clumsy I am, he found me through those blossoms. But each soulmate pair has their own unique connection. Haven't you felt anything special?"

See, in this world with soulmates, each pair discovers their connection in their own way. There's no universal formula, and you despised that fact vehemently. It only added unnecessary complexity to the already challenging quest for love.

Your parents had found each other through their inner voices, where their internal voices are the other's instead of their own. Your sister had found her soulmate through a compass on her body that led her to where her other half is.

And then there was you. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Absolutely nothing at all.

And as your birthday drew near this year, panic set in. You'd soon be a year older than the age when most people found their soulmates. Maybe you didn't have one, maybe he died, maybe he got aborted as a foetus, maybe—

"Woah, woah, just take a deep breath, everything will be okay," your friend reassured, trying her best to help in any way possible, "Hey, didn't you say you've been having a lot of dreams lately? And it's always that same dream?"

You blew a raspberry in frustration, "Yeah, but I doubt my recent dreams have anything to do with my soulmate, assuming I even have one. They're always about that art museum I go to on weekends. I think it's just because I spend so much time there."

She pondered for a moment, "Wait a minute, didn't you mention that San guy you always see there? What if—"

"Oh, hell no," you exclaimed, shuddering at the possibility of that annoyingly gorgeous mountain of a man being your destined lover, "I'd rather be alone forever than end up with someone like him."

It all happened on a day when you sought solace at the museum after a taxing week at school. Exhausted from dealing with incompetent classmates and antagonistic professors, you longed for a moment of peace as you approached your cherished spot in the corner. But to your dismay, you discovered an ignorant man occupying not just one seat, but the entire bench with his belongings. And not just any bench, your bench, the one everyone knew better than to occupy.

So you did the first thing that came to mind, you might have uttered some unkind words out of irritation. Looking back, you acknowledge it was all very unnecessary, considering it was likely his first visit to the museum and he clearly didn't realise it was your spot. However, your pride prevented you from admitting fault.

Consequently, he responded with equal unpleasantness. Even the museum guards had to intervene before things escalated into a fight. Like dealing with children, they persuaded both of you to share the bench since there was clearly more than enough space for two.

You adamantly refused to yield your spot and relocate, asserting your presence since you were here first. Similarly, it seemed his foolish pride prevented him from budging as well; thus, you both found yourselves locked in a silent standoff, exchanging wary glances as you engaged in a weekly silent war.

"Ugh, was hoping I wouldn't have to see your face today," San sneered, earning a glare from you as you settled down beside him. You were running slightly late, having trouble getting up after yet another frustrating dream, one slightly more annoying than usual.

Deliberately nudging his bag aside with irritation, you narrowed your eyes, "You wish, loser. This spot is mine, and it's staying that way."

He smirked in response, "Someone's in a foul mood, but then again, when are you not? Hope it's not because of that dream where your precious bench gets snatched away for good."

"Shut the hell up—"

You stopped short, a sudden realisation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You hadn't shared that dream with anyone, not even Eve. No one should know about it except... No freaking way. He couldn't possibly be the one you've been waiting for all this time. It seemed too absurd to be true. Why, out of all people, would fate pair you with this insufferable, infuriating, irksome yet undeniably attractive, bastard?

"Surprise, genius. It's me, your soulmate."

"I knew," he confessed, his voice carrying frustration and resignation, "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my other half. That's why I came here in the first place, why I was in this exact spot."

Your breath hitched as his words sank in. All this time, he had known, yet he had still chosen to engage in your petty conflicts.

"But when I met you," he continued, "I was excited, hopeful even. But your attitude, your stubbornness... it's unbearable. As much as I feel the pull towards you, I can't ignore how immensely annoyed I am by your behaviour."

His words landed like a punch to the gut.

"I know that if I had a choice in who my soulmate is," he admitted, his gaze intense, "it would never be you."

After a moment of processing his words, you gritted your teeth in anger, "Well, joke's on you, buddy. I don't want you either. Maybe it would be best for both of us if you stop showing up here from now on."

Days turned into weeks, and true to your request, San ceased his visits to the museum. At first, you felt a strange sense of relief, but soon, that relief morphed into a tumult of conflicting emotions.

You didn't know how to feel. Did you truly mean what you said, or were those words simply born out of anger? Your emotions were a tangled mess. On one hand, you had just turned away your soulmate after yearning for his presence for so long. On the other hand, you couldn't shake the resentment that it had to be him, of all people. Part of you longed to be near him, to reconcile and embrace your destiny. But another part recoiled at the thought, recoiled at the frustration his presence brought.

Unbeknownst to you, San wasn't doing much better. His heart felt hollow, the absence of your presence leaving a gaping void. He tried to carry on with his life as before, but the weight of your rejection hung heavy on his shoulders. But his pride also kept him from reaching out to you.

He suppressed the pull towards you, buried it beneath layers of denial and indifference. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, your essence lingered in his dreams, haunting him with visions of what could have been.

Then, one day, fate intervened in a way neither of you could have predicted. You fell ill with food poisoning and ended up in the hospital. In a panic, San saw it in his dream, a vision of you lying pale and weak in a hospital bed. Without hesitation, he raced to your side, his heart pounding with fear. As he stood in the hospital room, watching over you, he realised the depth of his feelings. Despite everything, he couldn't deny the truth any longer. You were his soulmate, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

You furrowed your brows at his unexpected appearance, "What the hell are you doing here? Who invited you?"

His heart sank at your coldness, but before he could form a response, Eve intervened, giving you a playful smack on the shoulder, "Stop it, you! He came all this way, and you're still going to be mean to him?" Turning to San with a warm smile, she continued, "You must be San! I'm Eve, her best friend. It's nice to finally meet you. Oh, and please don't take her words to heart. She likes to pretend as if she hadn't been dying to see you again."

Blushing furiously at her blunt revelation, you shot her a glare, but she simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Behave yourself. I'll be back shortly after settling the bill with Hwa," she said, brushing past San. As she passed him, she gave a polite nod, "Please take care of her for me, won't you?"

"Of course, Eve," he replied, nodding in return.

As soon as your friend left the room, he took a step closer, his tone serious, "Listen, I'm tired of playing games. I came here because I realised I can't bear to lose you again. So, tell me if you feel the same right now. If you still want me gone, I'll leave and never show my face around you ever again."

His words struck a chord, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He couldn't resist the pull any longer, sitting down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you. Relief flooded through him as he felt you relax in his embrace.

"I don't want to lose you again either. I'm sorry I was an idiot," you whispered.

"You should be," he teased, planting a kiss on your hair, "But I'm sorry too. Perhaps I should have told you who I was from the start. Let's just... not say things we don't mean and hurt each other again, okay?"

You nodded, squeezing him tightly, "Okay, Sannie."

#edenesth #lovely asks #my pookie #itstheghostofmypast #ateez fanfiction #choi san #ateez san #soulmate au #choi san x reader #choi san x you

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emmaxdelicate · 28 days ago

Text

dating the girl on the football team | ts x fem!r

summary: Taylor watches you play for the Lionesses

pairings: taylor swift x football player! fem! reader

warnings: badly described football match, no use of y/n

a/n: based off this request, I know nothing about football lol. This is pretty bad 'cause it was rushed but I had fun writing it, enjoy <3

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

Taylor got off the black car with discretion, but not enough to go unnoticed. A murmur spread among the crowd around the entrance of Wembley Stadium, and in a few seconds, camera, flashes, and phone screens directed towards her multiplied.

She was wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, and she walked confidently. Her presence was magnetic and drew attention, as always.

Security guards cleared the way for her while she greeted something with a smile. She was there for a special reason, and it didn’t matter if she would’ve appeared on some gossip site the next day. This moment wasn’t about her, but the girl she loved.

When she reached the VIP section, Taylor took off her glasses. Her seat was surrounded by other people wearing the number 13 jersey, your number.

She then adjusted on her chair, reaching for her phone in her purse to send a quick message.

Taylor put away her phone, ands she smiled to herself. As the teams started to enter the field for warm-up, the crowd’s noise grew in intensity.

Sat next to Taylor, was your family, everybody with the number 13 on their backs. Everybody couldn’t help but to feel nervous. This wasn’t just any game. It was the game.

The referee blew his whistle, the crowd rumbled, and you were ready. You were so ready.

The first half didn’t exactly go well: your team was struggling to keep possession of the ball, the other team scored a goal, and one of your teammates even got a red card.

Once it was finished, you grumpily went to speak with your other teammates in the locker room.

You were doing so bad, you didn’t want to disappoint your fans, your family, but especially Taylor.

15 minutes passed and it was time to go back to the field.

Unexpectedly, you made a comeback in the second half. Your team had scored one goal and you also saved one. Everything was perfect, but the game ended with a tie. And so you went to penalties. The time came for the last one, and it was your turn.

The stadium lowered its volume, and you took a deep breath in.

You kicked the ball. It went in. You did it. You were the champions.

You were the champions!

As the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted in cheers. Taylor’s heart raced as she pushed through the crowd, her eyes locked onto you. The moment she reached the field, the chaos of the match faded away. The players were celebrating all around, but Taylor only had eyes for you.

With a huge grin on her face, she ran to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

“You did it!”

“I can’t believe we won!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look into Taylor’s eyes. The pride was evident on your face as you both shared the moment, laughing and crying at the same time, completely lost in your own world amidst the jubilant chaos around you.

As you celebrated, Taylor noticed your teammates joining in, clapping you on the back and welcoming you into the joyous scene. It was a moment of pure bliss, a celebration of love and victory.

"Wait, I wanna introduce you to someone" you said and turned around, waving for your teammate.

You beamed with pride. “This is my girlfriend, Taylor. Taylor, this is Beth Mead, one of the best players on the team!”

Taylor smiled warmly, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you! Congrats on the win!”

With laughter and joy surrounding you, the three of you celebrated together, caught up in the magic of the moment. Suddenly, Taylor pulled you in close, looking into your eyes with that spark that made your heart race.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said, still beaming. “You were amazing out there!”

You laughed, still buzzing from the win. “I was so nervous... I thought I was gonna mess it up. But then I saw you in the stands.”

Taylor’s smile widened, and she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You never disappoint, you know that? You’re a champion now!”

You felt your cheeks flush at her words. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“Right?” she grinned, leaning in closer. “And it’s only going to get better. I want to celebrate with you. How about we go out, just the two of us?”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, feeling a flutter in your stomach. “Just us, away from all the craziness?”

“Absolutely! But first, let me do something.” Taylor glanced around, then grabbed your hands and pulled you away from the crowd just a little. “I want to tell you how much you mean to me,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “You’re not just my girlfriend; you’re my inspiration. Watching you play today, knowing how hard you fought… it made me fall even more in love with you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at her words. “Taylor, you’re going to make me cry!”

“Good tears, I hope,” she laughed lightly. “But seriously, I’m so proud of you. And I’m glad to be here for this moment, celebrating not just your win but everything you are.”

With that, you connected your lips into a soft kiss. “I love you, Taylor,” you whispered, feeling every bit of emotion surge within you.

“I love you too."

#taylor swift #taylornation #emmawrites୨୧ #taylor swift fanfiction #swiftie #taylor swift x fem!reader #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x y/n

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remuswriting · 8 months ago

Text

Cut the Cameras

Match Cut

When Tooru was nine years old, he met a pretty boy with long hair and a bright smile on the playground. It was the first time he’d ever seen him, which probably meant the boy was new to the neighborhood. So Tooru told him he was pretty, and the boy shoved him to the ground, telling him not to call him that.

“I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he said, a little starstruck as he stared up at the boy from the ground.

The boy looked at him, slightly concerned at the reaction, but introduced himself. Tooru believed that name to be his favorite word until he heard the name Y/N. That was far better than anything he’d ever heard before. Looking back on it, he’d fallen in love far too fast without even knowing it.

It was early winter during Tooru’s third year of junior high when Y/N received his first confession from a boy. He learned about it during their weekly phone call since they were in different prefectures—too far away from each other. He didn’t know who Aoi was, but he knew that he liked Y/N, and he knew that Y/N had uncomfortably rejected him.

Even though Tooru knew Y/N wasn’t interested in him, he thought about how Y/N could be interested in someone. He could be interested in someone who wasn’t Tooru, even though he was so interested in Y/N. Interested to the point that he’d write an over-the-top girly love letter to Y/N if he had to. It was the nausea and frustration that washed over him that made it hard to breathe.

“Are you there, Tooru?” Y/N asked, voice timid. Tooru tried to breathe normally, but it hurt. All he could picture was Y/N holding a faceless guy’s hand, and his chest hurt from how hard his heart pounded.

“I love you,” Tooru said, and his voice shook. He wished he sounded confident, but apparently, that wouldn’t be happening today. “This is me confessing to you: I love you.”

There was silence for 30 seconds before Y/N blurted. “I’m a boy!” He sounded completely frazzled. “I’m not a girl—never felt like one. I’m a boy.”

Tooru didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. Both of their confessions were unplanned, and he was trying to process both of their words—trying to process the weight their words had on each other’s shoulders. He didn’t understand what Y/N said—didn’t know what it meant—so silence seemed to be the better option over asking insensitive questions. But the tension between them thickened, even over the phone.

“Okay,” he said, and Y/N let out a shaky breath. “Does this mean I like boys?”

Y/N’s laugh was filled with tears. “I guess?”

They spoke about it. Things were ironed out, and Tooru realized he’d never liked anyone but Y/N. The details of if he liked boys or girls weren’t relevant in that case, because Y/N could be anything in the universe and Tooru would still only want him.

One day during summer break, when they were both in high school and finally in the same prefecture again, Y/N confessed more. They’d been dating for nearly two years, and it wasn’t their first date by any means, but Tooru’s excitement always felt like the first date.

They were at a park, drinking soda from the vending machine, and Y/N sat so close to Tooru. Their sides were nearly touching. Tooru wanted to lean closer to him and feel the heat radiate through Y/N’s clothes.

“What do you want to do after high school?” Y/N asked as he looked over at Tooru. Tooru was already looking at him, admiring the way Y/N watched the world around them.

“Play volleyball,” Tooru said without hesitation, because that was all he’d ever seen himself doing. Volleyball was a core piece of him, and he didn’t know how he’d ever be able to part with it, so he hoped he’d never have to.

Y/N chuckled, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight. The wind blew Y/N’s hair back, exposing his face some. He’d recently gotten a haircut, and it was shorter, but not the length he wanted.

“I should’ve figured,” Y/N said, mild amusement in his voice. He looked away from Tooru, and his hair blew into his mouth. Tooru tried to bite down his laughter at Y/N’s reaction to spitting it out. “I want to edit videos.”

“Like our YouTube videos?” Tooru asked.

Y/N shook his head. “No, like movies or TV shows. Big things.” He got quiet for a second. “But I can’t stay here and do that.”

Tooru’s brows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”

“I… I’m never going to get to be myself here,” Y/N said, and his brows furrowed as he stared at something in the distance. “I’m always going to be forced to be”—he motioned to himself—“this person I’m not. And I don’t know how much longer I can do it for.”

“Then we’ll leave,” Tooru said, as if it were that simple. At 16 years old, it seemed that simple. Just about everything but getting to Nationals seemed that simple. “After high school, we can leave and start over.”

Y/N slowly nodded before looking at him. “Okay,” Y/N said softly. “Start over after high school.”

Y/N didn’t wait for Tooru to start over. He graduated high school before Tooru, and he had university figured out. Yes, the train ride to Kyoto would be expensive, but Tooru would figure it out. He was already setting money aside, and Y/N hadn’t even graduated high school two days ago. But then they were in the park they met at, and Y/N wasn’t himself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Y/N said, and he forced distance between them. Whenever Tooru took a step forward, Y/N took a step back. “It’s not fair to you or to me.”

“What’s not fair?” Tooru asked, and Y/N wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t make eye contact with him, as if it’d hurt him. But then he looked at Tooru, and Tooru wished he hadn’t. The coldness in his eyes hurt more than not being looked at.

“Being with you,” Y/N said, and his voice was so dismissive. “It’s been going on for way too long. I can’t pretend to be in love with you anymore.”

Fear rushed through Tooru, making his fingertips buzz and his chest ache. He didn’t understand. Yesterday they had shared secret kisses as they whispered that they love each other, but now Y/N was saying this? He didn’t understand.

“It’s all been out of pity,” Y/N said. Tooru felt faint and ill and he couldn’t do this. “And liking the attention you’ve given me. None of it has ever been real.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Tooru asked, even though part of him wanted to yell that Y/N was lying. He was lying, because none of it made sense. This wasn’t him.

“Yes,” Y/N said as he sighed. “I never wanted you, and I can finally be free of you.”

“But I want you,” Tooru said, because he did. His chest had always ached with want when it came to Y/N, from the first day they met. Tears burned his eyes, but he tried to fight them off. “How can I make you want me?”

Y/N’s expression remained devoid of anything like him—compassionate, scared, hopeful. “Nothing. You can’t do anything to make me want you.”

Tooru clenched his jaw as he tried to not cry. Y/N had always been good at hiding himself, but never in front of Tooru. They’d always been open and honest with each other, especially after Y/N came out to him and Tooru realized he loved Y/N more than words could describe. This wasn’t Y/N. It wasn’t his Y/N.

“Why are you doing this?” Tooru asked, and Y/N simply tilted his head to the side as if to ask what Tooru could possibly be talking about. “Why are you breaking up with me?”

“Because I don’t love you—I don’t want you,” Y/N said. His voice was unforgiving in a way that made Tooru flinch. “I’m tired of being miserable every day because I have to pretend. I don’t want to be miserable, and I don’t want to pretend.”

That was when tears finally streamed down Tooru’s face, and he couldn’t stop them, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw or closed his eyes. His cheeks turned wet, and Y/N just stared at him. No reaction came from him, and Tooru didn’t cry harder from it, but he nearly did. He nearly completely broke down, but he had to keep some part of himself together. Even if Y/N knew he’d driven a knife into Tooru’s chest and turned it in a way he may never recover from, he couldn’t let himself fully feel that yet.

“Fine,” Tooru croaked out, his throat slowly turning raw from crying. It wasn’t loud crying by any means, but it still tore through his entire body as if to tell him he had been ruined. “We’re broken up.”

Y/N’s breath hitched so loudly Tooru could hear it, and there was a faint flicker of hope—hope that Y/N was lying. Perhaps Y/N was playing a part that Tooru knew nothing about. He wanted to scream at him, but he feared it’d make no difference. He feared fighting would only make all of it worse, and he couldn’t do that. What if fighting forced Y/N and Masaru apart? What if it forced Hajime and Y/N apart? Tooru couldn’t do that to the people he loved.

“Finally,” was all Y/N said before walking toward his house. It was so close to the park—closer than Tooru’s house. So Tooru watched him walk all the way there and into the house. His breakfast sat heavy in his stomach, some of it begging to come up his throat and onto the grass beneath his feet.

Tooru had never thought there could possibly be a world where there wasn’t him and Y/N. Maybe being in love and dating your best friend was the worst thing to do when it led to this, but Tooru knew there was no universe that he wouldn’t love Y/N. There was no universe where Y/N didn’t love him, even if Y/N said he didn’t—even if Y/N said he never did. Tooru didn’t believe it, and maybe his delusion caused him to run to Y/N’s house. He pounded on the door, and he didn’t know what he was doing—he didn’t know what he was going to say, but Y/N’s parents weren’t home, so he could talk freely.

Y/N opened the door, and he still looked so passive. Tooru shoved inside, not waiting for him to speak or invite him in. “We’re not fucking doing this,” Tooru said, and Y/N’s eyes widened a little. “We’re not breaking up when you’re the love of my life.”

“But you’re not mine, Oikawa,” Y/N said. Hearing him use Tooru’s surname stung, but he tried to ignore it. “So, we are doing this.”

“No.” Tooru grabbed Y/N’s shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, and God knows if you’re going to actually tell me right now, but you can’t seriously tell me this is what you want.” Y/N was quiet. He stared at Tooru with an annoyed expression, and Tooru couldn’t figure any of this out. “Talk to me.”

“Get out,” Y/N said as he knocked Tooru’s hands off his shoulders. “Get out of my house and leave me the fuck alone. That’s what I want.”

Tooru shook his head. “No, it’s not. I know you, and that’s not what you want.”

“You don’t know me!” Y/N yelled as he pressed a finger into Tooru’s chest, and it dug into the material so hard it’d wrinkle it and the pressure would cause a fingerprint bruise to rest there. “You may know my secrets, but you don’t know me!”

“But I do,” Tooru argued back, and he leaned into Y/N. He let the pain of his heart and chest ground him. “I know you better than I know myself.”

Y/N dropped his hand as he shook his head. “Get out.”

“Why are you lying?” Tooru asked, exasperation consuming his voice. “Why are you doing this to us?”

“Why won’t you leave?” Y/N snapped, and he took a step forward, which caused Tooru to stumble backwards slightly. “Why won’t you leave me alone when I’ve asked you to?”

“Because I don’t know how to,” Tooru admitted without hesitation.

Y/N stopped for a moment as his mouth opened slightly. He finally looked like he didn’t know what to say—like the act was finally melting away. “Have you really become so attached you don’t know how to say goodbye?” he asked, completely surprising Tooru. “Do you not know a version of you without me?”

“We’ve known each other since we were children,” Tooru said, as if reminding him. As if Y/N somehow forgot that information. “It’s inevitable for who we are to be connected to one another.”

Y/N turned away from him as he shook his head. “No,” he said, weak and wobbly. “No. I hate you. God, I hate you so much right now.”

For once in this entire fight, he didn’t sound like he fully meant it. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. It sounded as if there had been a script and he was deviating from it.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Tooru asked, far softer than he’d been speaking. “Just tell me.”

Y/N barely turned toward him, and Tooru couldn’t even see Y/N’s face, but he tried to picture the expression Y/N wore. He tried to, even though he feared it’d hurt him more. The idea of Y/N looking angry—genuinely hating him—made Tooru sick to his stomach, but he pushed that thought aside. It was all he could do.

“I can’t,” Y/N said, voice strained, and he was crying. “Just leave.”

Although he wanted to keep fighting—wanted to keep Y/N—something in Tooru paused. That urge to get him back faltered, because Y/N was crying. The boy who stayed strong for everyone else—feared that his weakness would only bring others down—was crying. Tooru had seen him cry before, but it’d been so long. It’d been so long since Y/N broke down.

“Okay,” Tooru said, even though he didn’t want to. “Okay, I will.”

It all felt robotic how he turned and left, the spring wind brushing over his face as if to tell him it would be okay. It wouldn’t be, though. It wouldn’t be okay at all, because he just possibly ended Y/N’s friendships with Iwaizumi and Masaru as well. That guilt and heartbreak would consume his entire chest until he couldn’t breathe anymore. He should’ve told Y/N to not bring them into this.

The walk to his house wasn’t far—only 20 minutes. He’d be stuck in his head for 20 minutes, and he knew it wasn’t a smart idea, but there was nowhere else to go, though. His steps were slow, because there was nothing left to him. He’d never been so drained in his entire life, and it was so bad that he didn’t even know how long he’d been walking. It’d all just been repetitive of one foot in front of the other until someone crashed into his back. Crashed into him so hard he stumbled, but the arms wrapping around him made it to where he didn’t completely fall.

“Don’t leave,” Y/N said, desperate. “Don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

Tooru took a deep breath in and let himself melt into Y/N’s embrace. “I won’t,” he breathed. “I’m staying right here.”

Y/N’s plan had been to cut off contact with everyone and disappear, because he knew his family wouldn’t support him. They’d most likely kick him out and make his life miserable, so he thought that going no contact would simplify things. To do this, he had to break up with Tooru. He had cut off all ties to everyone he loved or else they’d get caught in the crossfire.

Tooru told him he’d do whatever he had to in order for them to stay together. If that meant making up that he’d met someone new, then he’d do so. He’d do whatever Y/N needed him to do. He’d follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s what it took to keep him.

Now, three years later, Tooru gets out of his car and sees Y/N sitting on the swing he once told Tooru is his. It’s the only swing that doesn’t have creaky chains, and the seat isn’t completely worn to a faded gray when it’s meant to be black. Tooru always saved it for Y/N, not interested in it if Y/N was with him. It’s strange seeing Y/N back there, sitting on a swing in their childhood park, because he looks like himself now. No longer is he playing a part he never signed up for but now plays the part made for him. He looks like the boy Tooru fell in love with.

“There you are,” Tooru says, and Y/N looks up at him. Even though there’s distance between them, Tooru sees how puffy Y/N’s eyes are from crying.

“Tooru,” Y/N says, and his voice cracks. It’s so raw and full of emotion. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

Tooru hurries to his side, knowing things will only fall apart if the distance remains. Y/N has always loved close proximity, even if they’re not touching. He’s always preferred being in person over texting, because he believes it changes the experience entirely. Quality time is so meaningful to him, and Tooru knows this.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Tooru says as he crouches in front of Y/N. He doesn’t reach out for him, letting him take his time to come to him.

“I’m so scared,” Y/N says, and his voice is soft but not a whisper. “I—I don’t know what to do.”

Then he breaks down into tears, and he leans forward to press his forehead against Tooru’s shoulder. It’s an awkward angle, but he puts an arm around Y/N to ground both of them.

“We continue on,” Tooru says as he presses his cheek against Y/N’s hair. “We deal with everything as it happens, just like we’ve always done.” He lifts his face so he can press a kiss to Y/N’s hair. “It’s the two of us against the world. It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/N’s crying dies down a little, and his heart pounds so hard Tooru feels it through his chest. Tooru wants to fix all of this. He wishes he could make everything bad fade away so Y/N can breathe without fear and pain. The wind is gentle, brushing through both of their hair like a fine-tooth comb. Y/N has stopped crying, but his heart doesn’t quit beating so hard.

“I like Kenma,” Y/N whispers, but it’s loud in Tooru’s ears. He doesn’t pull away from Y/N, because he knows that’s the only way Y/N can say this.

“You like him?” he asks softly and slowly. “Romantically?”

Y/N pauses, far too long for Tooru’s liking. “Yes.”

It’s not the first time Y/N has liked someone else before, and it didn’t surprise Tooru the first time it happened either. He’s always thought of it as Y/N has so much love in his heart that he can’t just pin it down on one person. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt a little whenever it happens, because Tooru is only human. And what makes it worse is that he saw it coming. He saw Y/N’s crush on Kenma coming from a mile away.

Tooru takes a deep breath, and all he smells for a moment is Y/N’s shampoo. “Do you want to be with him?”

“I want to be with you,” Y/N says without hesitation.

That’s always been Y/N’s answer when asked that. He always says he loves Tooru and wants Tooru before wanting anyone else. He doesn’t have to say that for Tooru to say. All he needs to say is that he still loves Tooru, and Tooru will stay.

“I want to be with you too,” Tooru says, because it means more to Y/N than just saying he’s not upset. “But do you want to be with him, too?”

Y/N lets out a shaky breath, Tooru feels it against his shoulder. “Yes,” he says. “But I don’t want to be with him if it means losing you.”

Tooru pulls away, just enough for them to look each other in the eyes. Y/N reaches out and grabs at Tooru’s jacket, right over his heart, just to keep him close. “You will never lose me,” he says, and he puts a hand over Y/N’s. “I will admit that it’s hard to hear that you want to be with someone else—”

“I want to be with you,” Y/N says again, annoyance in his voice. “Don’t make it sound like we’re breaking up, because we’re not. I refuse.”

Tooru doesn’t know how to explain that this isn’t them breaking up—that he’s not sure he even knows how to do that. This is him trying to process everything as Y/N tells him, because Y/N has never said he’s wanted to be with someone else before. It’s just that it’s always been only a crush that he’s not sure where it’ll go. So Y/N’s been keeping this to himself, probably terrified of what Tooru will think—what he’ll do. So Tooru has to choose his words carefully.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” Tooru says slowly, and he hates that tears are pooling in Y/N’s eyes again. “I—I just don’t know what to do. You’ve never wanted to be with them before.”

Y/N looks away from him, but he doesn’t knock Tooru away, so Tooru’s hand squeezes Y/N’s hand, even if slightly uncomfortably. They both need the skin-to-skin contact. If they lose it, then all of this may crumble around them. Y/N will lose all the courage he has if Tooru lets go of him.

“Kenma is different,” Y/N says softly. “I don’t know how or why, but he is.”

Tooru lets the words sit with him for a moment, not saying anything because he fears the first thing coming to mind will hurt Y/N. There won’t be any comfort, because hearing that doesn’t bring any comfort to him. He knows Y/N doesn’t want this to happen. He knows that, but it’s still so hard.

“I knew you were forming a crush on him,” Tooru says, and he knows it’s not what Y/N wants to hear. He’s not sure if it’s what he needs to hear, either. “Always making comments about him with a smile on your face or hanging out with him more than you hang out with our other friends.” He pauses. “I knew. It was just easier to look the other way.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says, and a sob rips through him. He leans in and presses his forehead against Tooru’s shoulder, not wanting to be seen as he cries. “I’m so sorry.”

Tooru’s other hand makes its way to Y/N’s hair, where he rests his hand for a moment before gently petting him. He doesn’t comb his fingers through Y/N’s hair—he just pets his hair in hopes it calms both of them down.

“Don’t apologize,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to the side of Y/N’s head. “You’ve done nothing wrong. This is just how you are—full of love.”

“I don’t want to be full of love if it makes us feel like this.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, because he doesn’t know what to say. This is territory they’ve never crossed before. It’s always been small crushes that they’ve laughed off after a couple weeks, but he knows this is bigger. He fears what this means, but Y/N is here in his arms. Y/N is here and concrete and saying he still loves Tooru.

They only pull away because Y/N initiates it. His crying stopped minutes ago, and there’s still panic in Y/N’s eyes, but Tooru knows it’s okay to let go of him now. He knows that now is the time for some distance, so they can breathe their own air while being next to each other.

“I love you,” Tooru says, and Y/N looks him in the eyes, even though he looks nearly broken. “I love you, and you know that. I’ve loved you since I met you when we were kids.” Y/N’s breath hitches, and Tooru fears Y/N will start crying again. “I’m not upset. I’m not angry. This is not the end of us. I just need time to process it before we truly talk about it.”

Y/N nods, but it’s not full of certainty. It’s a small nod filled with nerves. “Okay,” he says, and he chews at his bottom lip for a second. “This isn’t a break, right? Because I don’t want a break.”

“It’s not,” Tooru says, and he knows Y/N is asking because they’ve done breaks before. Never for anything like this, but for when things felt like too much. However, their breaks aren’t like normal breaks. They still lived their lives with each other, not cutting each other out. The difference is during that time they’re best friends first. Almost acting as a reminder that their relationship relies on that friendship before it relies on romance. The breaks never lasted long, though—only two months at most. That’s not what Tooru wants this time. “We’re together.”

“Okay,” Y/N says before he leans in a little, and Tooru leans in to softly kiss him. Gentle and reassuring, telling him that they’re okay. This situation here is okay. Y/N pulls away and presses a kiss to Tooru’s forehead, as if Tooru is the only one who needs reassurance.

It’s quiet for a moment, and the park is so quiet. The only time it’s been like this before was years ago, and maybe it’s a sign that the important things discussed here will have silence. They’ll have the space they need.

“They moved last year,” Y/N says, and he’s looking over Tooru’s shoulder at his old house. Tooru looks at it before getting up and sitting on the swing next to Y/N. “Do you think they miss me?”

“Yes,” Tooru says, because he knows Y/N’s family. None of them are inherently cruel people, but they aren’t accepting. They wouldn’t be who Y/N needs in his life, and it’s okay that Y/N cut off contact. Tooru will never judge him for it, because that’s what Y/N needed and he’ll stand behind him in that. “But I don’t think it matters.”

Y/N is quiet for a moment. “I wouldn’t miss me if I were them. The way I left still feels so cruel—a letter saying goodbye and that I’m okay. It’s still a miracle they didn’t contact the police or try going after me like I feared they would.” He chuckles, but it’s sad and airy. “I feel like I messed up.”

“You didn’t,” Tooru says without hesitation. Y/N looks away from the house and at Tooru. “You did what you had to, Y/N. I will always be here to remind you of that and remind you that you’re a good person, because I know you think you’re not. I know you think that you’ve caused so much pain that you can’t be good, but that’s not true. You are good—you’re the best person I know.”

Y/N looks down at the ground, and the creaky swings are the only thing heard between them. “This wasn’t how I planned on coming out.” Tooru watches Y/N start crying again. “I—I don’t know how I planned to come out, but not like this—not with a photo from high school and someone telling the world for me.”

He looks at Tooru, and how much pain he’s in rips Tooru in half.

“We’re going to get everything sorted,” Tooru says, because that’s what matters. Y/N needs to know that this isn’t the end of the world—he will be okay. “It’s just going to take some time, but everything will get sorted out.”

Y/N slowly nods. “Okay.” He looks at Tooru. “Where do we go from here?” Tooru tilts his head a little. “Do we go home? Or do we go somewhere else?”

“That’s up to you.”

Y/N looks at the sky, which is so cloudy but beautiful. Tooru can’t look away from Y/N, though. Something that he’s always struggled with is that he’s never been able to look away from Y/N.

“I can’t… I can’t face anyone right now—or anyone but you and Masaru, maybe Hajime as well,” Y/N says, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know what to do. I just feel so lost.”

“Have you eaten yet?” Tooru asks, which may be the silliest question for some people. However, he knows Y/N. He knows Y/N will forget to care for himself when the world crashes around him. Y/N would rather save those around him than save himself, and Tooru has always loved him for it, even if it hurts him just a little.

“I… I don’t know?” Y/N says as he looks at Tooru. “I think I may have had breakfast at the hotel this morning, but I don’t remember.”

Tooru stands up and turns to Y/N. “Then let’s get something to eat. We’ll figure out our next move after,” he says, and he extends his hand to Y/N, who looks up at him with fond yet sad eyes. Tooru wants Y/N to pull him down and kiss him. “You ready?”

Y/N looks at Tooru’s hand before back at Tooru’s face, searching for anything that’s off. Tooru doesn’t move. He just holds his hand out for Y/N to take when he’s ready. When the muscles in Y/N’s body slowly loosen, Tooru knows everything is catching up. The reality is that this moment is okay. They are okay. There’s no reason to be scared, because Tooru is here to stay, no matter what.

Y/N slowly nods as he takes Tooru’s hand, and Tooru has always believed their hands were made perfectly for each other. He’s always believed every aspect of their beings was made for each other—soulmates who found each other early on.

“Yeah,” Y/N says, and it’s the most confident he’s sounded the entire conversation. “But let’s get takeout and eat it in the hotel room.”

Tooru grins as he nods. “Of course,” he says as he pulls Y/N up, and their bodies press against each other. “As long as I get a kiss.”

Y/N’s smile is breathtaking, as it always is, and his kisses are even more so. Tooru can’t breathe, but this time it’s a good thing. This time it’s because Y/N loves him so much, and he loves him so much in return.

Tooru glances at Y/N’s empty childhood home as they walk to the car. Part of him wishes for Y/N’s family to find out and to welcome him with open arms. They’d forgive the years of no contact because they’d understand why he did it. However, he knows them, even if they’ve not spoken in a while. Although he’d been a constant at family dinners growing up, he wasn’t a constant without Y/N. Yes, he is as much to blame as they were for their loss of contact, but he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret it, because he knows that they will never welcome Y/N with open arms. They will never see Y/N as their son, and Tooru wants nothing to do with people who treat his boyfriend that way.

He knows that Y/N is happier with the family they’ve collected over the years. Sugawara is similar to an annoying brother-in-law who cares for them both but will always pick Y/N first. Daichi, who came along with Sugawara, is the person to bring them back to reality. The boy next door or maybe even cousin if he truly needs a title, but Tooru believes Daichi to just be Daichi, and that makes sense to those who matter. Iwaizumi and Masaru have always been their family, from the very beginning to now.

Then there’s the people they’ve only known for a couple months, but they’ve grown into something that resembles a family—a slightly dysfunctional one. Tooru knows Y/N wouldn’t change it for the world, though. He knows Y/N is grateful for these people and for more than just being part of his film.

Tooru looks away from the empty house, and there’s no longer any sadness when it comes to that part of their old life, because they’ve made a new one. They’ve made one full of love and acceptance, and that’s what they both need right now—Y/N more than him.

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