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thedensworld · 2 months ago

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Chill Dad | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: Mingyu always wanted to be the chill and cool dad for his kids, however the world don't let him.

Mingyu remembered the exact moment he fell to his knees upon hearing the news—you were pregnant. After years of waiting, his dream of becoming a father was finally coming true. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter to him. But, as if fate had a plan, he was blessed with both—a beautiful baby girl and a baby boy. God had granted him twins. The day they were born, his heart nearly burst with pride. He named them Kim Kayi and Kim Kiha, and from that moment on, they became the center of his world.

Mingyu loved nothing more than showing off his babies. When the twins were just a month old, he threw a house party, eager to introduce them to everyone he knew. In his big arms, he proudly held Kayi and Kiha, beaming with pride as he introduced his friends and family to “the cutest babies in the world.” He wasn’t just saying that because they were his blood; they truly were the cutest—at least in his eyes. He adored every inch of them, from their tiny fingers to their chubby cheeks.

But, as the years passed, those adorable babies grew into spirited four-year-olds, and with that came the inevitable challenge: rebellion. Despite their cuteness, Kayi and Kiha had quickly learned how to test their father’s patience.

“I don’t want it!” Kayi’s small voice rang out defiantly one evening, her lips firmly pressed together as she refused to eat the vegetables on her plate.

Mingyu sighed, sitting across from her at the dining table, while you, seated on his left, were busy helping Kiha with his meal. Gently, he placed a carrot on Kayi’s fork and handed it to her again, hoping for cooperation. But with a little too much force, she pushed it back onto the plate.

“Kim Kayi…” His voice rose a few decibels, a warning in his tone.

You intervened softly, your voice a balm to his frustration. “Kayi, that’s okay. Just finish your meat, and then we can have your favorite fruit for dessert,” you said, standing to clean the small mess Kayi had made. Your other hand gently rubbed Mingyu’s back, calming him.

Another day, it was Kiha’s turn to test his father’s patience. “Kiha, we’re late, come here!” Mingyu called out, clothes in hand, as his son stubbornly refused to get dressed for an event. His small body was still glued to the floor, protesting.

“I don’t want to go…” Kiha mumbled.

“Mom and Kayi are waiting, everyone’s waiting,” Mingyu said with urgency, trying to reason with his son. “You shouldn’t be like this!”

When you walked into the room and saw the scene, Mingyu sighed in exasperation. “He refuses to wear anything,” he explained, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked gently, kneeling down to Kiha’s level and pulling him into a warm embrace. The two of you shared a quiet conversation that Mingyu couldn’t quite hear. Before long, you turned to him with a smile.

“Why don’t you and Kayi go ahead to the event? Kiha and I will stay home today,” you suggested softly, rubbing Kiha’s back as he clung to your neck.

Mingyu frowned. “Why?”

You smiled and gave Kiha a reassuring squeeze. “Kiha doesn’t want to go today. That’s okay, love. We’ll wait here for you.”

Though these moments tested Mingyu’s patience, he had a very healthy relationship with his kids. He adored them, and they adored him right back. Still, parenting during this rebellious phase often left him stressed, struggling to be the cool and chill dad he had once dreamed of being.

Later that evening, after the kids were finally asleep, Mingyu climbed into bed, visibly worn out. “You really need to stop spoiling the twins, love,” he said as he lay beside you.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “I don’t spoil them.”

Mingyu shook his head. “You let them get away with everything. That’s why they fight me on everything I ask them to do.”

You let out a soft laugh, recalling the five rounds of dance battles you’d just had with the kids before bedtime. “They’re just babies, love. They’re supposed to be spoiled.”

“They’re babies, yes, but there are still rules in this house,” he said, his tone exasperated. “I’m exhausted, and I swear they still had energy left even after I forced them to close their eyes. But eventually, they passed out.”

He sighed. “And earlier tonight, Kiha said he doesn’t want to go to daycare tomorrow. He wants to stay with you.”

You nodded. “Then I’ll take him to work with me.”

Mingyu gasped dramatically, yanking the duvet over himself. “See! This is exactly what I mean. You’re spoiling them too much! And don’t think I forgot about the ice cream yesterday—you got them ice cream without telling me!”

You giggled, guilt evident on your face. “I’m sorry… They were so cute; I couldn’t say no!”

You snuggled closer to him, kissing his neck softly. “You’re an amazing father, Love. You’re doing such a great job. Trust me.”

He turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I know…” He smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Is this your way of telling me you want another kid?” Mingyu teased as he hovered over you, kissing you again.l

You grinned up at him. “Maybe…”

The next morning began like any other—filled with the usual whirlwind of activity as Kayi and Kiha ran around the house, their laughter echoing through the halls. You were busy getting breakfast ready, while Mingyu tried to wrangle the twins into their clothes.

“Kayi, Kiha, come on! We’re going to be late,” Mingyu called out, his tone growing sharper as the twins continued to ignore him, engrossed in their game of chase.

You glanced over, noticing the tension in his shoulders. “I’ll handle Kiha,” you offered, but before you could move, Mingyu sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“No, I’ve got it,” he muttered, though the strain in his voice was clear.

The twins, oblivious to their father’s growing frustration, continued to run around, giggling as they eluded his grasp. Mingyu managed to catch Kayi, but Kiha slipped away, squealing with laughter.

“Kiha! Get over here, now!” Mingyu snapped, his patience fraying. When Kiha only giggled in response, Mingyu slammed his hand down on the counter. “I said, now!”

The sudden loud noise made Kiha freeze, his smile fading as he stared at Mingyu with wide eyes. Kayi, still in Mingyu’s arms, shrunk back, her playful energy draining away. You watched the shift in the atmosphere, your heart sinking.

“Babe…” you began softly, but he shook his head, setting Kayi down a little too abruptly.

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “Every day it’s a fight. I’m just trying to get them dressed, and they act like I’m the enemy!”

Kiha, still frozen in place, looked from you to Mingyu, his lower lip trembling. Kayi wrapped her arms around her father’s leg, her small voice barely audible. “Daddy… I’m sorry…”

But Mingyu didn’t hear her. He turned away, muttering something under his breath as he walked out of the room, leaving you and the kids standing there in stunned silence.

You knelt down, pulling Kiha into your arms as Kayi clung to your side. “It’s okay, babies,” you whispered, kissing their heads. “Daddy’s just upset right now. He doesn’t mean to scare you.”

They nodded, though you could see the hurt in their eyes. Your heart ached, torn between comforting your children and wanting to check on Mingyu. You knew he didn’t mean to lose his temper, but moments like this had been happening more often lately, and it was beginning to take a toll on all of you.

Later that day, Mingyu retreated to the bedroom, wrestling with his emotions. He felt a heavy weight in his chest, the guilt settling in as he replayed the morning in his head. He hadn’t meant to yell. He loved his kids more than anything, but sometimes the pressure of parenting, combined with his own fears of failure, made it hard to keep his composure.

It wasn’t until you walked into the room, your eyes soft with understanding, that Mingyu finally let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“They’re okay, Mingyu,” you said gently, sitting down beside him on the bed. “But they were a little scared. You know that, right?”

Mingyu rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a groan. “I messed up. I didn’t mean to yell, but I just… I don’t know. I’m trying so hard, and it feels like I’m failing. I just want them to listen to me.”

“They’re just kids,” you reminded him, your voice calm but firm. “They’re going to push boundaries—that’s what four-year-olds do. But you have to remember that you’re their dad. They look up to you. And when you lose your temper, it affects them more than you realize.”

Mingyu closed his eyes, the tension slowly melting away as your words sank in. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. “I’m sorry I yelled. I just… I feel like I’m failing.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You’re not failing, Mingyu. Parenting is hard, and we’re both learning. But you’re not in this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and self-doubt. “I need to apologize to them, don’t I?”

You nodded. “It’ll mean a lot to them.”

That evening, after dinner, Mingyu gathered the twins on the couch, pulling them close. Kayi and Kiha sat quietly, their big eyes watching him, sensing something serious was about to happen.

“Hey, guys,” Mingyu began, his voice softer than usual. “I want to talk to you for a minute.” He took a deep breath, glancing at you before turning back to the twins. “I’m sorry for yelling this morning. I was upset, but I shouldn’t have raised my voice. That wasn’t right, and I don’t want you to feel scared of me.”

Kayi crawled into his lap, wrapping her little arms around his neck. “It’s okay, Daddy,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest. “We love you.”

Kiha, still a bit hesitant, scooted closer and leaned his head against Mingyu’s arm. “We love you, Daddy,” he echoed quietly.

Mingyu’s heart clenched as he held them close, his eyes misting over. “I love you both so much,” he whispered, kissing the tops of their heads. “I’m going to try to be better, okay? We’ll work together.”

You watched from the doorway, your heart swelling at the sight of the three of them. Mingyu wasn’t perfect, but he was trying—and in the end, that’s what mattered most. Parenting wasn’t about being flawless; it was about showing up, even in the difficult moments, and finding your way back to love.

As the night settled in and the twins eventually drifted off to sleep, Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For always being here. For helping me through this.”

You smiled softly, resting your head against his chest. “We’re in this together, love. Always.”

And as you held each other in the quiet of the night, you knew that, no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you would face them side by side—just as you always had.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu smut #mingyu imagine #mingyu recs

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wndaswife · 10 months ago

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trying your hardest | wanda maximoff & gn!reader

After moving to America to join the Avengers, Wanda wants to finally make a friend to ease her loneliness. She hopes to become friends with you, and frankly, Wanda idolizes you, but her social skills are... subpar at best.

Word count: 5020

Tags: fluff, humour, some angst, emo wanda being a baby, a little thing, a small very tiny little thing, wanda has a very big crush on you :3 (she doesn't know it yet tho cuz she baby)

A/N: for plot purposes, imagine the avengers didn’t have a catfight after aou

gif credit to (i tried really hard and i CANNOT find who made this gif im sorry)

Wanda Maximoff never really had an education as a child. What education was available in Sokovia was expensive, and despite her father’s late working hours, the twins’ parents could only ever afford their apartment’s rent. The twins were homeschooled as well as their parents could teach them, but after the bombing, they were on their own.

Government-funded schooling helped them for only so long. The schools they were sent to were decaying, and always under dwindling government watch from ongoing airstrikes. The ground shook with explosive tremors as they commuted to school on foot. Wanda and Pietro stayed at an orphanage with hundreds of other children whose parents had passed due to the war — and the Avengers.

Even the government’s debt caught up with what was left of Sokovia. Billions of foreign debt not paid, volume of imports that had increased exponentially since Sokovia worked on rebuilding their country weren’t making enough revenue to pay exporters back. Hundreds of children were booted from government care and onto the streets. The twins attempted to learn on their own, to become informed educated people if they were to ever make a difference in the world, but in Sokovia, even resilience could only get one so far.

Then, Doctor Strucker came along, promising them the extermination of the Avengers, the Western terrorists who had made the already politically-unstable and war-torn country their battleground.

In hopes to cure the world from their terrorist reign, both Wanda and Pietro agreed to Strucker’s experiments, but the education they were given intended for them to become weapons. They knew little of real geography and world history — only HYDRA’s propaganda meant to poison their minds with blind hatred and little else.

When it seemed like you couldn’t be any more different from Wanda as it was, you were also the team’s brain. Stark and Banner specialised in physics and mechanics, but you were the team’s hub for everything else. From computer science to philosophy, you knew everything. No one exceeded you in developing team strategy, setting the stages for mission locations, profiling adversaries, and a dozen of other things Wanda couldn’t have even fathomed when she first met the Avengers in person.

It took Wanda only several moments to realise you weren’t a frontline fighter from your muffled voice in the Avengers’ earpieces to their callouts of your name as frequent, and perhaps even moreso, than their teammates that fought alongside them on the field despite your physical absence.

Y/N — that was your name.

When she had fought the Avengers in Novi Grad, creeping behind the Western superpowers like a heavy looming shadow, Wanda had looked for you. Strategically, it was a rational move. You were the centre of their battle, the heart of their teamwork.

And yet, you were nowhere to be found.

It was only until she had crept up behind Clint Barton when your voice grew clearer than ever before. From the tiny earpiece, you were controlling the field. Perhaps you were just outside, or maybe you were in another country. No matter the distance, Wanda supposed your hold on the battle would be no less effective.

It was the distraction of thinking about you, perhaps — Y/N, the invisible hand — or Barton’s sole intuition, Wanda did not know, nor did she have very much time to think it over, that had made it possible for him to counter her magic.

Then there was pain — immeasurable pain that Wanda hadn’t felt since Strucker’s experiments. It shot through her forehead like a dozen bullets had permeated through her skull. Pietro grounded her, and soon after, the twins targeted Banner.

Despite the rumours about him, the insatiable angry force he was told to be, his mind was the easiest to corrupt. Mental instability and insecurity racked his mind, and he quickly shifted into the green beast the Maximoffs had heard so much about.

Carrying his younger sister, Pietro took the two of them back to Ultron’s base.

They had won that day.

You were all Wanda could think about even while she and Pietro were off missions. You weren’t the Avengers’ frontline defence like Steve Rogers, nor were you the brute strength of the team like Bruce Banner. You held your team in your hands rather than tugging them along by their leashes although you likely could if you wanted to.

Y/N.

Who were you?

On the television after the fight on Novi Grad, Iron Man and Hulk’s brawl in Johannesburg was on the news. The city was in shambles. Pietro said something about the deaths of innocents and the success of his sister’s magic in having the Avengers turn against themselves. But Wanda could only think of what you had thought when Stark and Banner came back to their compound, beaten and sore from none other than their own fists. Wanda assumed the Avengers’ compound — wherever that was — was where you were too.

Wanda wondered how you were dealing with the fight at Johannesburg. What were you saying about her and Pietro?

Later that day, Ultron approached the twins in their bedroom and turned on the television. Despite having been offered separate bedrooms, they insisted on sharing one. Sitting atop their respective beds on the opposite sides of the room, there was someone speaking on the television about Johannesburg across from the interviewer. Their expression was stern but their eyes were solemn. Eyebrows were furrowed together, masking concern and worry; if Wanda knew anything, it was how to read someone.

“Y/N,” the interviewer began, and Wanda’s eyes widened, her head lifting from being held up by her hands, elbows on her pillow as it laid flat atop her crossed legs. “As the Avengers’ strategist, as many put it, how are you planning on handling the devastation that came upon Johannesburg, and the inevitable contact that the Avengers will continue to have with innocent uninvolved civilians?”

The question was packed, and the news station quite clearly had their own sentiments about the Avengers; they were setting you up.

So that was how you looked. Wanda swallowed and felt her chest flutter.

With your upper lip stiff and your posture unbelievably straight, you answered without equivocation. “A common misinformed perspective of any conflict follows the belief that there is any one party entirely responsible for the consequences of violent confrontation, such as the one we witnessed in Johannesburg,” you were saying. With the way her wide eyes were pinned on the television screen, Wanda didn’t notice the way her brother eyed her obviously piqued interest.

“I don’t believe the Avengers are the world’s most honourable superheroes,” you continued. Ultron shifted and Wanda’s head tipped to the side, her interest in you ever growing. “I don’t think anyone is, no matter whose side you’ve taken since the conflict recently — and perhaps even after the invasion of New York’s in 2012.”

That was The Incident, Wanda recalled, when the Avengers terrorised New York. That’s what HYDRA had always told her and Pietro.

“Despite whose side you may be on, as differing as our collective opinions may be, one thing is undeniable — we are all trying to reach a goal of peace for the world, fighting for what we believe is just. There is nothing more powerful than that. Perhaps, it is idealism that serves to be the strength of humanity.”

Ultron laughed morosely. He ridiculed your words, but Wanda wasn’t listening. Whatever you were talking about wasn’t only about Johannesburg. What were you referencing? Who were your words meant for?

Suddenly, your head turned to the camera and Wanda met your eyes. Everything in her froze, her eyes undeviating from your face.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” you spoke. Pietro looked over at Wanda, shock written on every inch of his face, and Ultron’s eyes darted between the twins, almost accusationally as he undoubtedly suspected coercion. Wanda almost expected you to step through the television screen and into her bedroom. “I know what you want.”

The screen was shut off suddenly, the black mirror of the television reflecting Wanda’s astonished expression. She looked away, shutting her eyes as she felt the burning gaze of Ultron on her. But your words reverberated in Wanda’s mind until your every feature and movement of your lips was memorised. Like a promise, like an ode, your words were immortalised within her.

Pietro wasn’t there when you took Wanda in your arms and saved her from a falling Sokovia. He wasn’t there when you laid her down onto the Helicarrier, nor when you took her hand and told her she’d be taken care of. Wanda cried into your chest at the sight of her brother’s body.

What would he have said if he saw the way your arm refused to leave from around Wanda’s shoulders as the two of them trailed behind his body while he was carried into the compound?

Pietro liked you, and would’ve loved to meet you. He referenced your broadcasted interview several times during their fight in Sokovia. He was proud to work with the Avengers, and proud to finally work towards their goal to help people just like them. He wanted to meet you.

Your voice was different from what Wanda remembered from the broadcast, and not because her memory had failed her, but because you were just… different. You were real, and not a picture on a wall or an untouchable reality forever separated from her by a television screen. As she watched you talk and laugh with the other Avengers, you were real.

But if Wanda was honest, she was much too shy to even start a conversation with you. Perhaps it might’ve been easier to approach you if you were an admired character on one of her favourite television shows, but it was exactly what made her admire you so much that also made her feel so shy around you.

Granted, there was much to adjust to now that she lived in America and was now a part of the Avengers, and she did believe herself to be a generally introverted person, but she was especially nervous around you.

Wanda had gotten enough confidence to speak with some team members. Natasha was welcoming and kind. Thor was easy not to feel nervous around, but his energy was far too much for Wanda to handle just yet. Bruce was much more comfortable to chat with, and Wanda found that he was able to be rather nice once he forgave her for her associations with Ultron. Steve was always very kind to Wanda and she felt very safe around him, with Steve always trying to make her feel like part of the team, but she found that they didn’t have very much in common.

And there was Vision, who seemed to have taken a liking to her since even before the final battle against Ultron. He was nice company, but she found her mind preoccupied thinking of you while in his company, wishing that it was you who gave her as much attention as Vision did.

However, she’d been wanting to start a conversation with you since the day she arrived at the compound. Initially, she needed time to herself, and along with Steve, you also made the effort to check in on her and give her your support.

Once she was finally able to gain some footing in adjusting to things while shouldering the weight of her losses, Wanda started becoming more active within the team by joining training sessions. During them, she found herself unable to stop looking at you, watching what you were doing, seeing how you interacted with everyone.

Even as the Avengers’ primary strategist that was almost never in the field, you still made efforts to train and stay connected and involved with the team — and Wanda quickly learned that training was a major part of team building.

You were everything Wanda wished she could be more like; you were the kind of person she had never thought existed in a world she believed was only full of cruelty and injustice until recently.

There was an upcoming party at the Avengers Tower in celebration of the assigned team’s return from a successful mission tracking down a recently-located HYDRA base still hiding out. It was almost any ordinary mission, but it was the first step towards steadily eradicating all of HYDRA’s bases, even after Strucker’s primary base was taken down in Sokovia. Though Steve did also tell Wanda that he felt that Tony also primarily wanted to find any reason to celebrate since it’d been some time.

Wanda hadn’t been to any of the parties yet, and she thought that she’d be able to use this one as a chance to start a conversation with you.

Wasn’t that what people did at parties? Talk?

Truthfully, she didn’t quite know for sure — she’d only ever heard about them through the sitcoms she watched as a child. She knew only of dramatised American portrayals of teenage parties through television.

Whatever it was people actually did at parties, Wanda was certain she would be able to make some effort to talk to you. At least in a social setting, it wouldn’t be strange for her to start a conversation with you.

Wanda made herself look nice and presentable, but not too formal since she didn’t want to overdress or bring too much attention to herself. She wasn’t sure what might happen if her plan to talk with you didn’t end up working, and if she was somehow left with nothing to do, she wanted to be able to slip away without anyone noticing, as if she had never made any attempt to come at all.

While deliberating whether it was better to arrive on time or a bit later once the party had been going on for some time, Wanda realised that at some point too much time had passed and her only option now was to join the party a bit later.

It was only once she arrived at the penthouse floor where the party was being held that Wanda finally realised how terribly thought-out her plan was.

What would happen if she didn’t get to talk with you? What would happen if she did, and she only made a fool of herself? Would it be better, then, to stay as two people who’d never conversed so that she might retain what impression you had of her now? Even if that meant she would never get to talk with you the way she wanted?

It was far too late now to change her mind if she wanted to, as she soon found herself walking further from the elevators and into the party.

The party was rather filled; mostly, they were familiar faces, but it looked like many brought guests, and some guests had brought some of their own. It seemed that Steve was right — atop of celebrating the taking down of the HYDRA base, this was also a social get-together.

She was still relatively at the edges of the room, so she was still going unnoticed. As she walked over to the bar, fidgeting with her fingers as she did, she took the time to look around and try to spot you. She reached the bar, crossing her forearms on top of its counter, and tried to draw the least attention to herself while avoiding eye contact with anyone as her eyes raked through the crowd.

Eventually she caught sight of you also at the bar, but at the very edge with your own drink, your back facing the party. Wanda’s chest fluttered and she felt she nearly stumbled moving one foot in front of the other when she turned to walk towards you.

She worried what would happen if someone suddenly approached you from behind, which would force her to then stop wherever she was standing and pretend she hadn’t just failed at her attempt to come up to you.

The pressing concern aided her greatly, and she was well on her way to coming up to you without hesitation. But once she actually made her way to your side and once you raised your head from your glass and looked at her, Wanda damned herself for being so distracted, now without a plan or even a terribly-planned script to follow in making conversation with you. She didn’t even get to look at what you were wearing.

It would be too strange of her to look you up and down before greeting you, right?

“Hi,” she said, hoping that the small smile she felt on her face was actually there lest she look like an absolute fool.

You turned around in your seat in order to face her, and now having your complete, undivided attention made Wanda’s legs feel like mush. “Hi,” you replied with a friendly smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a party yet.”

Wanda swallowed and nervously drew shapes against the bar counter with her fingernails, also trying her best to maintain a steady, friendly smile. “No — this is the first I’ve gone to. I haven’t been here for very long. I decided only a moment ago to come.”

“I’m glad you chose to come,” you told her and suggested for her to take the barstool beside you. Wanda lifted herself onto the seat and sat, facing you.

While you were talking, Wanda took the chance to look at what you were wearing. You looked nice, and Wanda thought you always dressed in a way that put-together, respected people did. She saw you in some likeness to the well-dressed characters on the sitcoms she liked — but, of course, modern.

Maybe she had been taking too long to respond, for you spoke again: “How have you been doing? I know that the move must have been rather hard to go through.”

When she took a moment to respond and found that a response wasn’t immediately escaping her, Wanda felt panic settle in her chest. She knew she should have planned out what to say. She looked like an idiot in front of you. She didn’t know the first thing about socialising or making friends.

“It was hard,” she said finally. “It is hard. Not so bad now. I mean, I’m trying to adjust.”

You nodded in understanding and Wanda felt herself losing your interest; she was sure that your responses’ intentions were now only to remain polite, to keep conversing with her because you knew she didn’t make very much effort to go out.

Then you asked, “Did you want me to order you a drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay — I don’t drink,” Wanda answered, fidgeting with her fingers between her knees. Truthfully, she’s never tried alcohol before. Maybe she should have taken you up on your offer.

“How have you been getting along with the team?”

“I think well. I like everyone. They’ve been very kind to me,” Wanda said. She could hear herself as she spoke to you; she sounded robotic and uninteresting. She thought she might try her hand at being honest about what she was thinking then and there. “But Pietro was always the most social of us both. It is hard to get along with others without him leading the conversation.”

Wanda must have not noticed how solemn she became after she mentioned Pietro, for you reached out and brushed her shoulder with your hand supportively, your fingers squeezing gently around her and lingering for a moment before letting your arm drop.

“I understand,” you sympathised. “You don’t need to pressure yourself into anything — really. I think you fit in here well, and I think you’ve been doing a wonderful job.”

That was the first time anyone truly supported Wanda like that; she was supported by the team as she was grieving the loss of her brother, always being told that she had a shoulder to cry on or a helping hand if she ever wanted someone to talk to.

There was something frustrating about the way the team approached her grief. They had to have anticipated that she would feel a bit better at some point — or at least well enough to get back to team member material.

In the way she was spoken to, Pietro and her struggles with his death were always approached as something she would get over at some point or another — like Pietro was something she was going to get over. She didn’t expect anyone to understand how she felt nor to share in her grievances, but it seemed to her that what she was going through was seen only as a temporary distraction to the rest of the team.

They were kind in giving her their support, but her grief never seemed quite real enough to them.

Granted, she was rather new to the team, so she understood, to some degree, their inability to understand her pain. But it was frustrating, nevertheless.

But with you, it was different.

You didn’t talk about Pietro or her struggles and pain like it was something to get over. You valued her as she was now, and saw her efforts as they were now.

Wanda felt slightly pathetic for how worked up she was getting over your response, be it as brief as it was, but what you said meant quite a lot to her. She felt, for the first time, that she was being spoken to as a real person rather than a ball of temporary grief and pain.

“Thank you… I really appreciate–”

She was cut off when you were called to meet one of Tony’s friends, an expert in software development who had even helped program some of the software you used for communication with the team while they were working on the field. Naturally, they wanted the two of you to meet.

For a moment, Wanda forgot how popular you were amongst your colleagues. Why wouldn’t you be? It was only that you had a certain kindness and authenticity about you that seemed signature to you. But if Wanda admired that about you, and if she idolised you, why wouldn’t anyone else?

You looked at Tony calling you over then at Wanda, who was awkwardly staring at the floor in some pitiful stance of defeat. It made your chest tighten.

This was Wanda’s first time joining in at one of the parties, and you were the first she spoke to. Moreover, there was a kind of sensitivity to her that you knew lay beyond her typical timidity.

Through the conversation with her, you could vaguely see Wanda’s eyes flickering behind your shoulder occasionally, where the floor’s balcony was. From there, one would have a view of the spacious training fields and the expansive forests beyond that separated the base from the main roads.

Tonight, there were clear skies and a rather prominent moon.

Gently, you tapped the back of Wanda’s hand that was resting on the edge of the bar to get her attention, and she raised her head and met your eyes.

“Would you like to step out onto the balcony with me?” you asked. “I’m not quite in the mood to talk with them right now.”

Wanda seemed to perk up and she straightened in her seat. She nodded, and when you stepped off from your barstool, she followed and trailed behind you as you headed for the balcony.

She watched from behind as you led her forward. She played idly with the tips of her fingers as she watched your hair brush against your back, watching the back of your head attentively as if it could tell her anything about you.

Frankly, she felt a bit starstruck.

A certain panic settled within her as you opened the balcony door and ushered Wanda outside and into the warm evening air; she didn’t know what to say now.

She wasn’t certain if she was interesting enough at all to have such intimate conversation with.

What could she say that could possibly be of interest to you?

In spite of the disappointed chatter and lighthearted jabs from the rest of the team in response to your very-obvious aversion to socialising, you closed the balcony door behind you until it clicked shut softly until it was only you and Wanda outside.

“Is it okay that you’re out here with me?” Wanda asked, looking at you as she stepped beside you.

“Of course,” you answered and walked forward until you could stand against the rails of the balcony. “Why not?”

Wanda appreciated how easy it was to talk with you, and how your relationship with the team wasn’t all that you were. “I thought that maybe you might prefer being out there.”

“No — I want to be here.”

Wanda flushed and she looked away, using the excuse of looking out past the training fields as an excuse to hide her face from you.

Making a bold move, Wanda thought that she might be honest with you; she had the real opportunity to make a friend, granted she pulled it off. “Y/N, I really appreciate you being so kind to me.” She garnered some confidence and turned her body and looked at you.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you replied bashfully, and Wanda noticed that you also seemed a bit timid. She thought you were sensitive, and she liked that.

“But also,” Wanda added, taking in a small breath, “I really appreciate your effort in being sympathetic towards Pietro and I, even when we did not deserve it — especially after Johannesburg. Before your interview broadcast, I had never known of such kindness. It seemed you knew more about what Pietro and I wanted before even we did.”

Without a thought behind it, Wanda’s eyes left yours and she added, “I wish he was able to meet you. I am sure he would have felt equally as stunned by you.”

You asked, “I stun you now, do I?”

Surprised by the realisation of what she said aloud, Wanda looked at you and at the sight of your slight smile, also realised that you were teasing her. She flushed and rubbed her warm cheek with the back of her knuckle and distracted herself with two of the party guests walking through the field.

Wanda reminded herself that she came to make a friend — to be friends with you. So she spoke again. “To be honest, yes,” she replied. “I think you are admirable; everyone seems to like you very much, and the kind of bravery and kindness you have is of a kind I did not previously know could ever be sincere.”

She finally said it, and now, Wanda felt anxious about what you might say next.

You shifted and repositioned yourself as you pondered for a moment in consideration. “Well, I have to confess that most if not all of my bravery is rather insincere — I’m truly not as brave as you might think. In fact, I would argue that you’re more brave than I; you’ve experienced so much, undergone so much change, and yet you seem to have more drive than anyone to try your hardest at adjusting and getting back on your feet.”

You thought she was braver than you? Wanda could collapse. She felt her chest flutter.

“But… the kindness,” you said, “is very sincere. I’m glad you see it that way.”

Wanda found herself stepping closer to you, feeling more comfortable in your company and feeling that she wanted to be closer to you physically, to hear your words within a closer vicinity and to see your face free of the soft shadows that the moonlight casted along the curve of your nose and the angle of your cheekbone.

“I think you’re really special,” you told her. “I’m happy that you’re a part of the team. I’m glad you’re here.”

In all her life, there was only one place Wanda ever felt she belonged — with her family. Over some time, what this meant was redefined with the bombing of her home when she was ten and, recently, with the loss of her brother. There was a feeling of loss, an empty pit that burrowed itself within the deepest depths of Wanda’s identity where Pietro and her family and some sort of identity should have been.

It was not only others and her country that she lost, but a part of herself, when all the landmarks she had ever belonged to were stolen from her. But if she could learn anything from still being able to stand where she was and try her best and be brave — like you said — in spite of all her loss and grief, it was that she was not all that she identified herself with.

She still existed, and was still worth something, even without all that was lost.

It would be difficult to even begin finding who she was, exactly, without Pietro and Sokovia and her parents and the truths of herself and the world that HYDRA had always taught her. But she hoped that you might be at least the first step to her self-discovery — you were her first friend.

“Are you alright?” you asked, tipping your head down slightly to try getting a better look at Wanda’s face.

Wanda had lost herself in her thoughts and forgot to reply to you. She must have been silent for a bit of time. “Yes, I’m okay.” She subtly swiped at her cheeks when she realised she was crying — perhaps it was from thinking of her family or of Sokovia, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the moment was that she started crying — as she looked over at the field for a distraction again.

Without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Wanda’s shoulders, bringing her against your body in a soft hug. It was wordless and quiet and casual — support and comfort without any conditions.

Every time Wanda believed that she’d fully grasped the world’s capacity for kindness, believed that there couldn't possibly be something more gentle than what you have thus far shown her, you prove her wrong.

She hoped she would never be right.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #elizabeth olsen

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sincerlyus · 1 month ago

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Reverse Falls!!

Soo this is my take on Reverse Falls!! I don't really know which are the original designs or which are the new personalities that each character adapts, so I made my own headcanons!! :3

It should be noted that there are characters who do not change personalities with anyone, but rather their personalities are more exaggerated or are opposite to the originals. Or (in the case of McGucket) their relationships are different so they change their way of being progressively.

EXPLANATION TIME:

This is quite long, I'm going to explain the personalities of each one and how they relate to various characters. Credits to: hours of daydreaming and Google Translate (TW: child abuse, emotional and physical abuse, homophobia, classism. I don't know if there's anything else, just in case)

Pacifica Northwest: Outgoing and very expressive. She didn't know Gideon very well until her parents sent her to Reverse Falls. She likes to knit, draw, and has a lot of stuffed animals. She has a lot of hair, and likes to do different hairstyles every day ("to be innovative"), cries when she has to cut it. She is very affectionate with Gideon and tries to get him out of his shell. She is a little insecure, but likes to see the positive side of things. She gets along very well with Bud, although sometimes she feels he is a little weird. Symbol: Llama (on her sweater)

Gideon Gleefull: Insecure, has little self-confidence, very skittish and anxious. Has a habit of chewing when he is thinking, like OG!Dipper (chewing on pens, his shirt, etc.). He didn't really know how to talk to Paz at first since the first time they met they were very little, what was she going to say?, was a "Hello" enough?, a handshake?, a complicated handshake?, was she going to ignore him? Paz simply gave him a big hug when she got off the bus (+ gave him a sweater she made on the way). Symbol: Telepathy star (in his hat)

Bud Gleefull: Ultimate scammer. Very friendly and funny, although sometimes a little intimidating. Bye Hawaiian shirts. Very patient with Gideon. He is basically the “cool uncle/dad”. He put Paz to work the day she arrived, although he became attached very quickly and gave her family privileges (he does the same with Gideon).

Mason “Dipper” Pines: He is still very insecure but is able to feign confidence when standing on stage with his sister. He still has a lot of passion for science, he is not very affectionate, he holds back his emotions as he does not want to look vulnerable, especially in front of Stanford. He has a lot of respect for Ford (or rather, fear), being his apprentice he sees him more as a teacher, a superior figure than as an uncle; however he has very little respect for Stan, threatening him and making fun of him. He does not usually use his amulet much, only to practice tricks or in his shows. He has a very distant relationship with his sister, similar to that of the Stan twins. They have many disagreements, but they still have each other's back, especially when Ford is aggressive with one of them. The most sincere relationship he has is with F, although he still treats him like an employee, knowing that he was one of the brilliant minds behind the portal he respects him. Sometimes he discusses theories and shares discoveries with him (although he is embarrassed to think that his only "friend" is an employee of his uncle). Once he met Gideon and Paz, he was able to show his more fragile side and be himself, although he doesn't consider them completely friends (that changes post-weirdmageddon). Symbol: Pine tree (a small pin)

Mabel Pines: A spoiled brat, basically. She's very charming and friendly on stage and with guests at the Pines' many parties, but she's very whiny and selfish behind the scenes. She's not at all affectionate, to the point that she hates physical contact, especially if it's from townspeople. She resents her brother a lot for being Ford's "favorite" (he doesn't really have favorites, he's just less strict with Dipper because he's useful to him). She's Stan's spoiled child, giving her what she wants when she wants it (they have a nice relationship actually, Stan being one of the only ones who comforts her when she's sad). Instead of knitting, she likes to design her own dresses and accessories for shows and parties (her guilty pleasure is arts & crafts, since it's a very "childish" activity for a Pines). Obsessed with Paz, but learns to respect her limits throughout the story. Symbol: Shooting Star (a small pin)

Stanley Pines: He basically swaps personalities with Bud, runs the Telepathy Tent, is very friendly, and is scared of his brother and the twins. He never gets involved in Ford's experiments, having a very tense relationship with him. He loves the twins very much but knowing the power they have with those amulets he prefers to go along with them and not question too much what they ask (he knows when to be firm but the one who really has an impact on them and can make them see reason is Ford). Symbol: Oyster(?? (on a necklace)

Stanford F. Pines: Did you think OG! Ford was a jerk? Well now he's twice as much! He doesn't have an ounce of empathy in him, he's very narcissistic and only cares about his projects and his image. He doesn't care at all about the twins, only seeing them as a way to make money, demanding the most out of them, and he doesn't hesitate to use violence if any of them get out of line. He's very distant with Stanley, speaking to him very dryly (or rather, barely speaking to him at all). He's almost a hermit, living in his laboratory, not letting the townspeople get to know him; although unlike OG! Ford, he cares a lot about how he presents himself in front of the public, taking care of his image and clothing. He's very demanding with Mabel, as he feels she's nothing more than a spoiled child, the image of the Telepathy Tent along with her brother. He is a bit kinder to Dipper, as he realizes that he has a brilliant mind for his age (though not more so than his own), so he includes him in many of his experiments and research if he proves useful; but excluding that, he is just as insensitive as he is with his twin, mistreating him if he does not comply with what is due. His relationship with McGucket is kinda weird: although they were friends in college, the power that Bill/Will offered him completely consumed him, being abusive to F, forcing him to work long nights, keeping him awake by force. He only sees him for his use: his great skill with mechanics (which Ford does not have, although he hates to mention it). Although he was in love with F while he was at Backupsmore, he currently has no romantic feelings towards him, considering him an employee, his assistant, nothing more. He has internalized homophobia (a gift from Filbrick) and classism, so he hates to remember when his relationship with F was one of equals, friends. It disgusts him to think about when he would get so emotional around him. Symbol: Six Fingered Hand (the diaries)

Fiddleford H. McGucket: He is still the brilliant mind he was in his youth, but stress eats him alive. He started to age very quickly thanks to it. He invented the memory gun to try to forget all the horrible things he witnessed or that Ford made him suffer, but his boss doesn't allow him to use it too much since it can damage his mental health and erase knowledge, making him less efficient and useful. He doesn't have a very deep relationship with Stanley, since he practically lives in the lab where Ford forces him to work, but they are able to talk whenever F has a break (almost never). He can't stand the twins too much, not only because he feels that they are very annoying, but because the simple presence of children in his day to day life reminds him a lot of Tate, with whom he no longer has contact. Everyone knows about the abusive relationship he has with Stanford, they are not indifferent to it but they try not to mention it or get involved in his affairs (practically out of fear of Ford). Throughout his stay with Stanford he started developing an emotional dependence on him: not only did he make him feel that he was useless without him, but he uses violence on him when he is not fulfilling his duty, causing F to blame himself when this happens (What did he do wrong? What can he do to improve?). This got to the point where he started to hurt himself when he did not do something right. Ex: hitting himself when he noticed that his leg was bouncing in front of his anxiety (something that bothers Ford a lot), pulling out clumps of hair in front of the stress of not being able to achieve something, biting his nails, scratching himself, hitting his head (imagine Dobby from HP). Such actions and the mixed feelings he had towards Ford, made him develop masochism, enjoying when he inflicts pain on himself and when he is the victim of Ford's physical and psychological abuse, he clearly hid this for a while since it would look very unprofessional on his part. Eventually his boss found out and used this to his advantage, being quite sadist himself (he enjoys watching or inflicting pain and/or humiliation on others, in this case, he gets sexual pleasure). So every time Ford needs to let off some steam, vent his frustrations (or is just horny), he uses Fiddleford to fulfill his fantasies, making F's wishes come true as well. He basically uses him as a sex toy, and F doesn't complain, having suffered so much emotional manipulation, he even considers himself lucky that his boss wants to be with him like this, even if it's NOT healthy. Symbol: Spectacles

Bill Cipher: I don't like the idea of changing his name, so Bill stays. He's still the same chaotic demon as in the original series, but this time he's been tricked by Ford into working for him and doing his bidding. He's also forced to do the twins' bidding. We already know that Bill can change his shape and color, so I think all of his shame and self-pity manifests itself in his appearance, turning blue over time (any strong emotion makes him change his appearance). He manipulates Gideon and Paz, making them feel sorry for him so they'll do his bidding (it doesn't work, clearly). The people he has the most contact with are Ford and Fiddleford, as they spend most of their time in the basement where he's locked up.

So that's it. I don't really know how this timeline would work, considering the portal and the journals, but I just wanted to have fun with the character designs and relationships (I feel like the weirdmageddon would happen sooner than in the original timeline). If you want me to go deeper into certain relationships or characters, let me know!!(≧▽≦) I'll see if I can go deeper into the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford that you guys liked so much (you guys really like toxic yaoi, huh??). I'm thinking of making a fanfic or smt to explain their day to day life in the lab and how Ford invited F to work with him (SPOILER: it didn't go well...).

That's it ig, LIKE AND SUSCRIBE!!!1!!1!Σ(°ロ°)

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vividxpages · 3 months ago

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౨ৎ˚⟡.⭒˚no parents, big house⭒˚⟡˚౨ৎ

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 4400

summary: with his family out of the house for one night, Jacaerys and you decide to make the most of it.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, wine drinking, they’re both just really in love with each other, smut (making out, dry humping)

a/n: This is my first time writing smut for Jacaerys, I hope you like it, let’s get through this big hiatus and be good to each other! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤍🍕💋୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you rang the doorbell of the Targaryen-Strong household, you could already hear screeching coming from behind the door.

Smiling to yourself, you shifted on your feet, the staple of pizza cartons in your hand warm on your palm. A bag hung over your shoulder and excited shivers ran through you at the prospect of spending the entire night over at Jace’s place.

Your boyfriend’s mother and her husband had decided to go out tonight, a rather rare occurrence with multiple boys under their roof and Jace and you had decided to make the most of it. Privacy often was an unknown word here and to both Jace’s and your embarrassment, the two had been caught making out on his bed (in various states of undressing) by his siblings enough times already.

Tonight though, there had been a compromise.

Jace was allowed to spend the night with you, but only if Lucerys took the others to see a movie tonight and the brothers were in charge of making dinner for everyone beforehand. Jacaerys had agreed in a heartbeat and butterflies had taken wing in your stomach when he texted you the plan later, accompanied by three red hearts.

Although Jace was a decent cook – you could confirm this, talking from experience – the pizza had been your idea. And if Jace’s brothers did not love you enough already, the door opened and you and the stacks of pizza were greeted with shouting and frantic hugs before these whirlwinds of dark curly hair disappeared down the hallway in excited chatter and you stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Hi.” You smiled brightly as he quickly took your important delivery from you.

“Hi.” He breathed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as always when you two shared a moment. He was wearing his favorite pair of gray joggers and a white shirt, his hair adorably put back in a bun that had you staring at him, utterly in love and anticipating your stay in his home tonight.

Behind his back, a sudden scream could be heard and a pillow flew through the air. You grimaced at the chaos seemingly going on in the living room and your boyfriend’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he threw a stern look over his shoulder.

“I swear they were behaving before; I think we had too many sugar cookies earlier.” He sighed, stepping aside to let you in, his hands subconsciously finding your waist on its own. You leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, inhaling the delicious smell of his cologne.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mom.” You joked. You two quickly closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to suspect someone was getting murdered in here.

He chuckled. “Lucky me then.” Into the vague direction of the living room down the hall, he ordered: “Guys, be quiet or we’re going to eat all this pizza by ourselves and I tell mom you’ve terrorized me and Luke all evening.”

This threat brought silence to the house and you snorted.

“Always works.” He told you before grabbing your hand and leading you to the massive living room, big panorama windows offering a look into the garden of the property. Luke was waving at you from the kitchen, his smile still a little sour since he had to take care of their smaller brothers for tonight, as he prepared plates for everyone.

The twins, now relatively calm and obedient, sat side by side on the couch, smiling brightly at you. You dropped your bag by the staircase, kneeling in front of them and ruffling their light hair. “Hey, you two. Jace told me you’re watching a movie tonight?”

Jacaerys adoringly smiled at you as you talked to his baby brothers, his heart melting as always when he could see how well you were getting along with his family. You had been over enough times to earn yourself a permanent spot in the hearts of all his family members and it fulfilled him deeply to know you were his and you belonged with them just as you belonged with him.

Soon, his family was going to go on vacation and last week, his mother had told him she would be delighted to have you there with them as well. He could’ve cried with happiness and the two of you certainly had celebrated, in your own way.

But tonight, he couldn’t wait to play house with you, only for a little while until you were going to move in with each other one day.

“Thank you for the pizza.” Luke mumbled through his bites and you waved it off, leaning into Jace’s side as the group all settled down on the big couch in the middle of the room. You tugged your legs underneath you and sighed happily as you bit into your first piece, one of Jace’s hands that wasn’t occupied with his own slice resting on your naked thigh.

It had been hot outside tonight and you were still wearing shorts. While you listened to the twins’ stories and chatted with Luke, Jace began to slowly circle his thumb on your knee, the gesture as delicate as the brush of a feather. But it was enough to make you falter, all your nerves seeming to travel down to the small patch of skin being touched by him.

It was enough to distract you and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But this sweet torture of his and inevitably, you giving in to it, had to wait for now.

“Want a slice of mine?” You asked him sweetly, offering him a piece of your pizza covered with cherry tomatoes, arugula and hearty cheese. He nodded, leaning forward and letting himself be fed by you. When you wiped a little blob of sauce from the corner of his lips, Luke had enough.

“Can’t you use your own hands, Jace?” He teased, a knowing grin on his mischievous face.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave to see the movie soon?” Jace shot back, unbothered and unashamed as you laughed and licked your finger clean, causing Joffrey to watch the two of you with a disgusted face. Once, when he still had been a little smaller, he had compared the two of you to his own parents because of the way you always gravitated towards each other, always touching when you could, but you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t regretting this comparison now.

Luke looked to the clock on the wall, startling. “Oh shit, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” The twins echoed and the two older brothers shared a look.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you taught them this.” Jace declared nonchalantly and Luke groaned, taking his plate to the kitchen and telling everyone wanting to see Paw Patrol tonight to hurry up.

You chuckled, kissing Jace’s bony shoulder and standing up as well, taking his plate from him.

“No, no, I’m not letting you wash our dishes, you’re my guest tonight.” He protested and took them to the sink himself. You once again shivered at his words, the prospect of having the whole house to yourselves for a few hours more than enough to spark your wildest fantasies of him…

There was some hustling and bustling going on in the hallway as Jace and you worked together by the sink - a compromise because you always wanted to help - before Joffrey shouted a quick goodbye to you.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” Luke asked his brothers on their way out and Jace groaned, quickly shouting after them: “Don’t give them more sugar!” The door fell shut behind them and soon, you heard the engine of Jace’s car start.

“Don’t worry too much about them.” You told him softly, seeing the way Jace bit on his bottom lip, a common sign that he was overthinking. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know…” He took one of the plates you held up and dunked them into the full sink. “I’m very happy you’re here tonight. I was thinking about it all day.”

“Me too.” You whispered, suddenly short of breath.

It wasn’t the first time you were sleeping over, but with a house full of people, indulging intimacy with your boyfriend was…difficult. Dinners were spent by the big table with his family and once you retreated into his room upstairs – sometimes after roasting marshmallows over the fire pit outside or playing board games with his competitive parents – the two of you were mostly too tired to stay up any longer. Jace shared a bathroom with Luke, so taking advantage of the luxurious big shower was too risky, and the walls were not as thick as you would’ve guessed for such a big mansion.

So, most of these nights ended cuddled together in his bed, sated and happy and tired, sleepily kissing each other in the darkness until you either fell asleep together or Jace would sneak his warm hands underneath his sleeping shirt on you, ghosting over your body until you’d eventually let out a needy whimper he had to cut off with a kiss or his hand. How often had you come around his skilled fingers, silencing your little moans and gasps in the crook of his neck or breathing them into his mouth? And how often had he softly bitten your neck or shoulder to stifle his moans while you sweetly jerked him to completion, giggling to yourself when he had to stagger out of bed shortly afterwards to find a tissue for your sticky hand?

“Is there something you’d like to do?” Jace asked you, ever so eager to make sure you were the most comfortable you could be. You thought of the sun chairs outside on the terrace and how lovely it was the stargaze together or the pool, its crystal-clear waters flickering seducingly. You thought of the shower, your gaze flickering down to Jace’s subtle but strong muscles, subconsciously licking your lips.

But you also had not seen him all week and you desperately wanted to relish the quietness of his home with him before everyone else came back later tonight.

You shrugged, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I just like to be with you. Maybe we can finish up here and watch a movie and cuddle?”

Jace wanted to melt at your innocent suggestion. “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll dry the plates; you grab us two glasses? Dad brought a fancy wine yesterday.”

You found the bottle in question quickly, your eyes widening at the fancy label around it. “I’m not sure if this is meant for us, Jacey. This is expensive-expensive.”

Jacaerys threw the towel over his shoulder, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to him. You had listened to the radio as you worked and an old school love song was echoing through the kitchen now, your boyfriend goofily swaying to the beat and wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll buy a new one first thing tomorrow. We can act like we’re adults tonight.”

“Jace, we are adults.” You laughed as he twirled you, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers playing with the stray curls in his nape. You sloppily swayed to the beat, lost in each other’s eyes and smiles and you knew you were not ever going to love anyone else the way you loved Jacaerys. There wasn’t space for anyone else, because you were sure your whole heart only consisted of him.

Eventually, you filled – and emptied - those wine glasses and danced through the kitchen, your laughter echoing through the house, making it your home for the night. You exchanged some giddy kisses and his lips tasted like heavy wine and when you pulled back, his dark eyes laid hazily on you.

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth once more, the wine in your system making it hard to think.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

Neither of you had any idea how you managed to stick to the movie, but a little later, you found yourself on the couch, one leg thrown over Jace’s, your head safely nestled in the crook of his neck. Jace had dimmed down the lights of the living room and prepared a bowl of snacks for the two of you while you had changed into something more comfortable.

Now, it had gotten dark outside and the black void of the garden rested to your left while Jace rested his chin on your head, absently picking up some popcorn from time to time as you watched the movie. Earlier, you almost could’ve not hidden the mischievous grin on your face as you quickly snuck under the blankets on the couch, Jace’s back still turned to you. You had picked one of his soft shirts to wear and underneath it, which he had not noticed yet, you were only wearing panties. The lacy, soft pink ones he loved oh so very much.

Jace had returned to caress you mindlessly, his fingers wandering up and down your naked leg and the steady motion made your eyelids drop from time to time, a small yawn escaping you as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

Jace squirmed, not entirely unpleasant. “Hey…’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You breathed back, one of your hands finding a good spot on his toned stomach, the fabric separating your palm from his warm skin almost too much to bear. Like this, it went on for a while, both of you focusing less and less on the movie on the big flatscreen and more and more on the little touches you gifted to each other. Wanting, unspoken questions, disguised by innocent affections.

A while ago, he had turned a little, one of his clothed legs having found the perfect spot between your thighs, still held back by the fluffy blanket draped over you. But you were slowly having enough of useless fabrics between the two of you and Jace’s lean leg between you wasn’t exactly helping to ease the growing pull in your stomach.

You shuffled even closer and Jace tore his dark eyes away from the screen to look deeply into yours, his plush lips slightly agape as he watched you grind your hips forward, your hand drifting beneath his shirt to ghost over his skin. You felt the muscles in his stomach tense underneath your touch, his breath ghosting over your lips and when he finally dared to capture your mouth with his, you let out a relieved sigh.

Forgotten was the movie that had not interested you from the start as Jace blindly grabbed the bowl of snacks and moved it out the way. His hand drifted over your thigh as he delicately cupped your cheek, making your blood tingle underneath his soft touch, and finally snuck underneath the blanket.

You grinned against his lips, tilting your head to give him more access as a shaky sigh escaped him, his fingers trying to feel where the seam of your shorts began. Instead, his fingertips brushed over silk and lace and his mind short-circuited.

He pulled back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looked at you through them. Both of you were breathing hard, with flushed cheeks and arousal coursing through your veins. He looked at you like you were a miracle, not believing how he managed to end up with such a lovely creature. You pushed your thighs together as he slowly licked his lip, feeling already that your precious panties were going to be soaked very soon. And to think that he had not even gotten started…

“Jace…” You whispered, almost a whine as his thumb brushed over the lacy material, his pupils blown wide as he leaned forward and kissed your neck. You threw your head back, whimpering as his teeth dragged over a sensitive spot. “Please.”

He peeled away the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and looked down, your shirt messily pushed upward to reveal your tummy and the soft pink panties. You swore you could see the dragon in him, his family symbol just lingering underneath the surface. His knee was still resting between your thighs, not yet giving you what you craved so much. Your mouth watered as his darkened gaze landed on you again, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip. He whispered, his hoarse voice sending goosebumps through you; “You’re the most beautiful girl…god, you’re driving me insane with how much I want you.”

You exhaled shakily. “You got me.” You nodded, trusting him with your whole being. You both had known how this night would’ve ended and yet, you could never prepare yourself for the intensity of your feelings for Jace. Your hand freed his hair from the scrunchie tied to it and you brushed through his soft curls.

“I love you.” Jace murmured and attached his lips to your neck once more, finally having some mercy on you as he pushed his knee forward and making you cry out. The rough fabric of his joggers pressed against your thin, wet panties, the delicious pressure making you weak in the knees. You threw your head back, your arms naturally resting around his neck as you pushed your chests together, sinking into the pillows behind you in bliss.

Jacaerys paced the rhythm, slowly grinding against you with his thigh, feeling your legs quiver as little lightning shot through your core with each of his motions. Cuddling with him for so long had heightened all your senses, making it hard to concentrate as you pushed your hips forward, riding his thigh as he peppered kisses against your skin, drawing aside the shirt from your shoulder so he could leave a loving mark there, too.

With a particular enthusiastic buck forward, you made him hiss, your little whines and whimpers having made him rock-hard and straining against his own pants. You placed two fingers underneath his chin, drawing him up into a desperate and messy kiss and his hands on your waist tightened their hold.

“C’mere, baby.” He murmured into your mouth, his thigh still rubbing against your most sensitive part. “In my lap, up you go.”

You let yourself be hoisted up until your knees were placed on either side of his slim hips and you gasped into his mouth, your core now deliciously pressed against his length. He placed his shaking hand into your hair and your hands found purchase on his chest, helping him to take it off and throw it somewhere else.

You giggled, head spinning with pleasure as you were juggled around in his lap by him wriggling out of these damn joggers off, your laugh suddenly cut off when he bucked his hips up into yours, the outline of his dick fitting perfectly against you.

“Can I take this off?” Jace asked you breathless, playing with the hem of your shirt and you pecked his lips encouragingly.

“Yes, please.” You could feel his heart beating fast underneath your palm. “I might go insane if you don’t.” You bit your lip and Jace groaned, quickly nodding as he lifted your shirt over your heart and tugging you close against him so you wouldn’t be cold at first.

“Anything you want.” He mumbled, eyes glazed over with love as he looked at you, his fingers ghosting along the underside of your chest, his thumb soothingly touching one of your nipples. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and then, you did not talk anymore, driven by the growing need for each other now. You started to grind your hips forward again, hissing at how amazing the friction felt for now, the little gasp Jacaerys let out only encouraging you to continue like this.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to brush your hair back, caress your chest or guide your hips with them. You felt the mixture of the wine from earlier and the warmth in your core get to your head, the room around you spinning as you found another fantastic angle which made his clothed dick rub over your wet clit just right.

You let out a long-drawn moan, doubling your effort and leaning close to Jace so he could hear every little sound he lured from deep within your body. And in return, he made sure you heard him, his gasps soon turning into the sweet whines you loved so much. There was a wet patch on his briefs as you looked down and you had been a mess anyway and none of it mattered the slightest if he only continued to move you around in his lap like he did now.

“’m close…” You told him, brows scrunched together and eyes closed in pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him. Jace was watching your every movement, fascinated how someone as delicate and sweet as you could really belong to him, peppering kisses on your exposed chest and tugging you forward hard, back and forth on his dick, again and again, a thousand nerves in both your bodies alight.

“So perfect for me, so sweet…” He mumbled and your core clenched around nothing at his sugary affirmations. He kissed your cheek, your neck, over and over again, feeling as your grasp on control continued to slip. “Wanna see you come, my love, fuck- I love you so much…”

“Love you.” You whimpered, mouth a little o-shape, sweat on your forehead and Jace could not help himself, he needed to feel you.

His hand disappeared in your panties, one of his fingers finding your achingly hot clit as the other gathered up your wetness. You keened loudly, doubling over in sweet and utter defeat, immediately caught by his arms and held against his chest. You could’ve sobbed with pleasure as he rubbed one, two, three circles on your clit and then you exploded into a million stars, shattering into stardust right in his safe embrace.

Your orgasm tore through you like a crashing wave and Jace held you through it, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, groaning deeply from his chest as he felt himself spill into his underwear, the friction and your sweet sounds too much for his system. You still rode him and his soaked fingers, chasing the high he had gifted you, his fingers continuing to guide you through it all, only slowing their efforts when he felt you twitch with little aftershocks and overstimulation.

Your body slumped against his, breathing heavy and hot as you let out a satisfied smile.

He kissed your temple, hugging you close and closing his eyes as your heart beats slowly calmed down again until they were almost beating as one. You let yourself be held by him, tiredly drawing little hearts on his chest and smiling happily as he kissed your cheek.

“Feeling good?” He asked quietly and brushed back your sweaty hair.

You lifted your head, nodding timidly as you kissed his freckled nose. “Amazing. And you?”

“Perfect.” He smiled blissfully and when you shifted to get more comfortable, both of you grimaced at the sticky feeling. “We made quite a mess, huh?”

Your eyes widened and you hid your face in his neck. “Oh god, do you think anyone will notice?” Suddenly you could not believe you both had let this get so far, in the living room of his family as well-

“Nah, everyone won’t be home for another couple of hours and we can air out the room through the terrace doors.” His eyes sparkled as they looked you over, tucked against him, perfect in every way. “We’ll clean up here and go up to my room to clean you up, okay? Does that sound good?”

“And we’ll cuddle?” You wanted to know, a safe and sacred part of your soul only coming to show itself when Jacaerys was taking care of you like this. To know he knew what you needed and to simply let yourself be led by him made your mind blissfully empty yet full of love and adoration for your boyfriend.

“Yes, love, of course we’ll cuddle.” He pecked your cheek and helped you stand up. (But then again, this whole thing had started out by simply cuddling too, didn’t it?) When you lifted your arms obediently, he slid his shirt back on you and collected his own from the floor, arranging the pillows neatly and folding the blanket like nothing inappropriate had ever happened here.

You laughed as you tried to walk on wobbly legs, only to be scooped up by Jace before you could even reach the staircase. “I think we ruined your favorite underwear.” You whispered into his ear and he blushed madly.

“You can wear one of my boxer shorts if you want.” He offered and you nodded quickly, always a little thief when it came to his clothing. He carried you upstairs, mindful so your legs wouldn’t bump into anything, and gently set you down on his bed once you reached it, kissing your forehead one more time before he rummaged through his closet and found you something to sleep in.

It was ridiculous how happy you felt, how unbelievably in love you were with Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong. You watched him with soft eyes, nearly melting when he cleaned you up with a warm washcloth first, then helped you dress and slid into his twin size bed with you in his arms.

You kissed his smooth jaw, getting comfortable in the familiar safety surrounding you. His fingers were stroking up and down your spine in an easy rhythm.

“I think I’m going to give your brothers gift cards for the cinema for their birthdays.” You mumbled sleepily against him and he laughed, the sound like bells in your ears.

With it, you drifted off into a wonderful, dreamless sleep and he followed you soon after…

When Rhaenyra came back later that night, finding her sons passed out in their beds, she couldn’t help but peek into her oldest’s room, finding the two of you sleeping peacefully and entwined with each other.

In the morning over breakfast, she kept it to herself that the TV had still been running and you two had left the terrace door open…

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @earth4angels @princessvelaryon

If you would like to be tagged for Part 2, let me know with a comment <3

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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the-raindeer-king · 8 months ago

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The 141 and having kids with them :) This was fueled by a random thought I had at work, and it was written at like 3am. Pls be kind.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Due to his personal experiences, I think he probably would be against having kids in the beginning. Like he's seen and been through so much, and I think his main fear would be ending up like his dad. So he always just wrote it off as something he never wanted to experience

UNTIL YOU COME IN

And at some point, maybe after Johnny starts having kids, Simon sees you interacting with one of the babies. And something about seeing you with a baby on your hip flips a switch in his brain.

He wants a kid and he wants one now.

Anyway y'all definitely don't stop at just one kid. I like the idea of Simon with 3 kids, all girls of course. He just exudes girl dad energy.

He's a great dad too btw. Retires from field work after the second girl is born, and absolutely adores them. Encourages them to engage in extracurricular activities. Would coach their sports team if any of them join. Never misses a recital (totally doesn't try to get the other task force members to show up. 🙄 They just happened to be free lmao)

If any of the girls enlisted, he'd probably try to talk them out of it at first. War is brutal, and the idea of any of them going through what he did makes him sick with worry. But he comes around to the idea, and in the end, is so proud of them.

He's proud of them regardless. All three are firecrackers with big personalities, and he loves them so much.

John Price

I think, when he was younger, Price wanted kids. Liked the idea of a wife/husband, a house with a yard, and a couple kids. And it just… never happened. Life got in the way, and how could he bring a child into this world, with all the things he's seen? He made his peace with it, and moved on.

And then he meets YOU. And suddenly he finds himself hoping for these things again. Especially kids.

Give this man a baby, please! He exudes fatherly energy (in more ways than one ;p)

After y'all have the first kid, he retires from the military all together. He's paid his dues, and he's got something far more important now: you, and your sweet baby boy :)

I could see Price either only having one, or having a handful of kids. Probably no more than 3 (two boys and a girl)

A good dad. Maybe gets a little too invested in their sports games, probably ends up as a coach after correcting the old one too many times lmao

Would be so proud if any of your kids followed in his footsteps. If none of them do, I think he'd be quietly disappointed but proud of them nonetheless. The two of you raised some wonderful kids.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Probably never really gave it much thought. Like having kids would be cool. Not having them is fine too. Kyle definitely wasn't stressing it, he's got bigger things to worry about.

I mean that is until YOU come along. And now he's thinking about getting married and having babies.

Definitely talks with you about it in detail. He wants your opinion on it, what method to go about it, if you think you're ready for that. A very lengthy conversation that ends in a mutual agreement.

I think Kyle wouldn't want more than 2. Like you could convince him, if you want more. But he's fine with a small family.

2 boys. Twins. Absolutely a handful, and Kyle's there to help when he can. I don't think he'd leave the military until the boys are older, maybe 10/11. But he steps up when he is home, giving you a well deserved break from parenting.

Loves your boys. Play wrestles with them when they're little, brings them trinkets back from his deployments, takes note of their interests and different personalities.

Wouldn't mind either way if they enlisted or not. Kyle would be proud of them regardless. You've raised two fine boys, what's not to be proud of?

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Oh, Johnny boy here wants a big family. He's dead set on having kids. It absolutely is a deal breaker for him. His partner has to want kids too.

So when he meets you. And you want kids too, he's over the moon.

If you've got a uterus, the first kid definitely happens unintentionally. Y'all weren't actively trying, Johnny just can't keep it in his pants lmao.

If not, then it's all planned out and everything goes smoothly, whether that's surrogate or adoption.

Like I said, BIG family. I'm talking like 5 kids at the least. You cannot talk him out of it.

Also gives big girl dad energy. Probably ends up with 4 girls and 1 boy. And he's fine with it! Loves getting his nails painted and throwing tea parties, just as much as he loves playing soccer and wrestling

Like Kyle, Johnny doesn't immediately retire. Sometime after the girl 4 and the baby boy, he'd retire from field work. But he's always facetiming with the kids and bringing them stuff back. Being dad doesn't stop just because he's halfway across the world.

Would be so proud if any of them enlisted. Would probably cry unashamed. But he's equally as proud of them if they don't.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #i've never posted my own fanfic anywhere before so hopefully this does well #im actually quite proud of this one #task force 141 #my writing

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arcanarix · 1 month ago

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Make That Double, CH 1 - Yandere!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

Summary: Double the trouble, or double the fun? Difficult to say when you're unfortunately roped into the affairs of two powerful shamans who can't leave each other alone, either. Word Count: 6.7K Tags: for this chapter, blow jobs (between stsg)

“What a day…” you sigh, as you slump into one of the stools of your café’s bar. No one ‘s ever said maintaining these types of jobs are easy. You have lost count how many times you’ve been yelled at for accidentally fucking up people’s orders. You try to give yourself a little grace; you’re a newbie here and you’re still adjusting to your new job. It’s just something a little extra to help pay off the tuition while you’re going through graduate school. It’s nothing you can’t handle, and yet…the day’s not over.

You’re already so over it. You hate these kinds of jobs. Everyone does! But they really aren’t kidding about it after all huh? And it’s only been a month or so since you’ve come to this job.

And you still have a pile of assignments waiting to be completed when you get home, too!

Why do you put this on yourself? Aw, yeah, that’s right! You want to instill a little bit more of a disciplined lifestyle because you sorely lack in it. Without a doubt you do if you are already considering quitting cold turkey! Maybe the youth is more privileged these days…

You overhear tidbits of a distant conversation as you wipe down the countertop. You’re already perking up a little. Oh, you recognize the voices of some regulars!

“Mr. Geto! The café is still open!! Can we please get crepes?” you hear an over-excited customer request. She’s a regular here who always seems to be bouncing off the walls from all the sugar ‘Mr. Geto’ must allow her to indulge in—perhaps he’s a little too giving to these girls. In spite of yourself, you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. They’re among the more tolerable customers you serve, and you’re ever grateful for more civilized manners. The bell dings as they enter, and you return to the cash register with a beaming smile as you dab some sweat off of your forehead with a handkerchief.

“Hello, girls! It’s good to see you again,” you greet, before turning to Geto, ignoring the hairs standing on end as he stares down at you with those haunting violet eyes. “Geto, it’s always good to see you.”

He acknowledges you with a low hum, gesturing to the twins. “I’m sure the girls want their typical orders, isn’t that right?”

“Hmmm…” Nanako, the blonde twin, trails off, tapping her chin as she studies the menu hanging over your head, long and hard. “Mimiko, do you want to try something new?”

Nanako turns to the brunet.

“Sure,” she answers, turning to you, her expressionless face setting off some unease in you, but Mimiko is otherwise nice enough. Just seems a bit standoffish, much like Geto does. “What’s new to the menu?”

“Well, the Biscoff crepes have gotten pretty popular,” you suggest as you’re smiling wide, but you can’t help but feel a little intimidated whenever ‘Mr. Geto’ is in within proximity to you. He has a commanding sort of presence, weighing down on everyone around him. The kind that has people whipping their heads around to see if he’s a real big deal. Not only that, but you notice something else amiss in that piercing stare of his—disdain, perhaps? Or perhaps exasperation over his two lively girls who are so fun to have around?

Whatever the case, it’s not like it’s any of your business. You’re just here to do your job and they’re just trying to go about their day.

It’s not like you have anything to go off of about the guy, anyway. What you know most about him is that he’s a bit of a father to these girls.

It's endearing to watch unfold each time they stop by, though.

There has always been a part of you who wonders what has become of their real parents.

“Biscoff sounds delicious right now. I think you’ll like that one, Geto. Biscoff isn’t all that sweet,” Mimiko now turns to him, tone curious yet still drones in monotone. “I know you don’t like it when Nanako tries to shove any of those sweets into your mouth to get you to like them.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies through a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. You don’t miss his lips twitching in disgust at the prospect. The things he does for these girls, and from what you understand, he’s definitely not the biological father. “I’m just not the one with the sweet tooth. That’s something you both have in common with Satoru.”

The twins exchange a look. That snags your attention. Trouble in paradise for Geto? Is this Satoru person a lover of his or something?

You frown at your own nagging, honestly intrusive questions. Why are you getting so invested in their lives out of nowhere?

Finally the awkward period of silence is broken.

“You keep talking about that guy and you never tell us anything about him,” Nanako pouts, before beaming at you. You return the smile in full force. “But hey! We’ll have the Biscoff ones then! And the usual ones like strawberry, Nutella, ooh….maybe lots and lots of whipped cream with one!”

“Nanako,” Geto chides with a deep scowl. “You’re going to get another terrible stomachache like last time.”

You can’t help but giggle to yourself, ceasing immediately when Geto eyes you curiously. Man, that stare puts the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ to shame.

What a family.

“Quite a handful you have here,” you comment as you ring up the orders. “I’ll have those ready for you along with your usuals. That sound okay?”

“Thank you,” he answers as he whips out his wallet, handing you cash as opposed to card this time. “And yes, believe me—I know. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He smiles down at the twins before patting their heads affectionately. They grin up at him and you’re still smiling yourself at the sight. They do make your day a bit brighter, just seeing them interact with each other.

You feel your heart warming to witness such pure love. You can even go as far as to say it makes standing through terrible customers yelling worth it.

You leave your post for a moment to instruct the chefs what to prep. You ignore the fact that you have picked up on Geto staring through your head; a shiver dances up your spine. That guy is nothing short of terrifying and yet he’s just here to indulge his girls in some of their favorite sweets.

After you present them their orders (and some bonuses on the house, because you just want to be nice), Nanako as per usual samples Geto all of the sweets they ordered before she and Mimiko dig in themselves. He has to admit you’re right—the Biscoff one isn’t as sweet as the other pastries, and he ends up ordering one for himself for once. If not for an excuse for you to swing by their table just to get another good look at you. Mimiko has been raving about your service to them since you started working here, and during one outing, Nanako proposes an interesting (albeit incredibly outrageous) idea.

“Why don’t you ask her out, Geto?” Geto opens his mouth to shut down the idea immediately, but she continues before he can get the chance: “Geto, what are even the chances you get to meet a partner who’s a sorcerer? We understand your position, but we also know you can easily land anyone you want. And we want a Mom!”

Mimiko shakes her head at Nanako’s rambunctious attitude but she is inclined to agree with her.

“And that lady is really nice to us,” Mimiko adds, ever the voice of reason and if she’s siding with Nanako on something? It means it’s something Geto should take a bit more seriously. As much as he loathes the very prospect of entertaining such a foolish plan. “Like sometimes she gives us free samples to try! And pays for our meals! She hasn’t even worked there that long. She seems like an actually nice person and not like the sort of people we encountered back in the sticks.”

“Well, I mean, the folks back in the sticks are pretty simple,” Nanako quips, “She’s from the bigger cities and came from overseas, too, I think. So she’s worldly! So that means she must have a more open mind. Don’t you think so, Geto? I mean, didn’t you come from a family of non-sorcerers? Not all of them were bad, right?”

“My history with my family is complicated,” he remarks, “And not exactly pleasant.” In fact, he can dare admit he was mistreated as poorly as these girls were. “But some family members I suppose aren’t all terrible.”

“So give her a chance, Geto. She’s not a monkey to us!” Nanako begs as her lips curl into that adorable pout. Even Geto can’t ignore that face. “We both really like her. And we don’t like people either! So pretty please, try it for us?”

He can’t refuse their request. No doubt these girls need a mother in their lives. He can’t deny the fact.

While in other circumstances, Geto might scoff at the idea of entertaining the thought of pursuing a non-sorcerer… he has to come to terms with a cold, hard fact: sorcerers as a whole are rare to come by. Nanako’s right. It’s illogical of him to assume that he can pursue a sorcerer partner who can fit the mold of a mother for the twins.

And Manami Suda is out of the question—the twins find her off-putting for a number of reasons, and Geto can’t blame them.

While he doesn’t mind, Suda is more of a kiss your ass kind of woman and lacks true character. Yuki is out of the question, and not just because she’s still affiliated with Jujutsu Tech; if she really wants an answer, she’s simply not his type of woman even if she is a powerful sorcerer. There’s one thing Geto can’t stand more than monkeys and it’s a sorcerer who can’t understand her duty and superiority.

And even he has to agree with Satoru: you have nice assets. You not only are his perfect match (monkey status aside), but the twins are already fond of you. They babble on and on about you. They like how you take an interest in their day, even if that might not mean anything to you. It’s just what you’re trained to do.

No matter the reason, you just appear to be the most logical option out of the limited ones he’s been grappling with since the twins can’t stop bringing up the topic of a mother in their lives. They also don’t fancy the idea of him being lonely, either…

And neither does he. He’s not particularly lonely (what a lie); he and Satoru still meet with each other, and it’s not like Satoru won’t have his fair share of you, either. Geto knows better than to leave him out of his affairs. They have a rule: they share everything. Including lovers.

Satoru does seem keen on knowing more about you, and he’s been kind enough to keep tabs on you for Geto’s sake. It’s all going to fall into place soon enough. Geto doesn’t mind the waiting game; he may have the patience of a saint, but he has the heart and mind of a scheming trickster. It’s why he and Satoru are still a match made in Heaven.

He must tread carefully. He doesn’t want to spook you; no, no, that won’t do.

Watching you shuffle around the café, going about your business as he’s secured in a corner with the girls, without a single care in the world—it’s better than most of those stupid sitcoms the twins force him to sit through and criticize.

Because he’s come to find, everything you do is a work of art, and coming from him, that’s high praise. He doesn’t deliver it so openly, and especially not to a member of a significant chunk to a species he otherwise believes is beneath him…

He’s ripped from his thoughts when he hears the light thud of a mug of piping hot coffee rested on his table. The nutty, aromantic aroma hits his nostrils, calming his nerves. It’s a blend curated by the café itself, unlike any other they claim. It’s all just gimmicky shit they sell to gullible customers, but he doesn’t mind it, if it means getting closer to you.

“You look like you need it,” and lo and behold, it’s you. The woman occupying his thoughts like an illness. You have infested his mind, a swarm of termites burrowing into homes. It’s maddening and yet you are as unsuspecting as ever that you are the cause of his turmoil.

“Thank you,” he grunts in response, moving to pull his wallet out of his back pocket before you stop him.

“We don’t charge for coffee,” you reply with a knowing glint in your eye. “Not to you guys.”

Ah. So you have begun to see him as someone special, huh? Or perhaps you do have a soft spot for the twins. No wonder they like you so much. You make them feel special, loved, cherished—the kind of thing a mother does, being nurturing. Kind.

You absolutely are a perfect specimen; he has to accept that. Sometimes there are exceptions to his forgo all monkeys rule.

“Thank you,” he says again after realizing he’s been staring at you—and notices you shifting in your spot. Discomfort around someone else is never pleasant, and it’s a feeling he knows well considering he has to endure being in the presence of such monkeys all the fucking time. It’s a necessary evil in some cases, like this one, but he’s much better off shoving some of his monkey devotees to keep an eye out. Not only here, but he’s already obtained your address through Satoru. Satoru’s already introduced himself to you—Geto may have overlooked that interaction from the sidelines somewhere—and Satoru knows how to keep himself from being tracked by the higher-ups. Though it’s not like there’s not much the higher-ups can do considering Satoru’s status.

It makes things much easier, indeed. Knowing Satoru is still with him in some cases.

“Right,” you reply, still smiling. It’s practiced. Fake. Appropriate in these environments where it’s a must to perform for customers. He wonders what a genuine smile looks like from you. He’s not even sure if he’s ever seen it before.

You whip around and attend to the few other customers who have populated the café. Since this café closes in an hour or so, there’s not as many. It’s a perfect time for him to investigate you further. He may have implanted some of his curses around this café to keep you in check.

And many other places, like your studio apartment.

It’s good to be thorough in this case.

“Hey Geto.” Ah. His thoughts are interrupted yet again. It’s Mimiko who addresses him. “Isn’t that one of your curses in the kitchen?”

“Yes,” he answers with a nod before resting his chin over intertwined fingers. “You both said you wanted to keep an eye on her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Nanako butts in, swinging her legs in her chair as she takes a fork full of her strawberry crepe. “It’s a good thing! So she’s safe in case anyone gives her trouble, right? She’s nice. She doesn’t deserve it!”

Geto hums, conceding to that statement. Well, not wholly. He still has yet to learn more about you. His eyes trail after you as you refill a customer’s glass of water, overhearing you question whether they want to order anything else. He perks an eyebrow—how can he get her attention? You already do seem to like the girls enough.

“Do you think you like her, Geto?” Nanako asks, her tone full of hope as her beady eyes follow his gaze to you. “She’d look really good with you too! You really are thinking about it after all, huh?”

“Only because it’s something you two desire so much,” he retaliates with a huff. “Otherwise I wouldn’t even bother.”

“We knooooow,” Nanako replies through a fit of giggles. “We’re just glad you’re finally doing something about your lonely love life!”

Geto scowls deep, frustration etching his features as he rubs his temples. Oh how can he have not seen this coming? These girls are always up to no good and not in the way he would have preferred.

“…Is that what this has been about?” he asks through a sigh.

“Nanako,” Mimiko scoffs, fluffing her hair. “He’s going to reconsider…”

“No, he won’t!” Nanako interjects. “Because he doesn’t back off from his promises!”

Well, even he can’t deny she’s right about that.

He doesn’t want to upset them. They’re lucky he’ll do everything for his girls if it means putting a smile on their face—like massacring an entire village who damned them to Hell.

So he’s going to try.

His gaze flits to you, still wandering around the café and treating the few customers here who arrive close to closing time. You look ready to clock out yourself.

Besides, you do seem…

…He’s caught off guard when you nearly lose grip on a tray you’re holding, letting out a breath in relief on your behalf as you catch yourself before anything tragic happens. You let out a sigh in relief as well before handing the order to another customer.

…pleasant.

Accountable. Nurturing. Kind.

Perfect, he dares to add.

“She seems appropriate,” he decides, relaxing his shoulders. “If she warms up to you more, you should ask her to drop by for a visit.”

“Why us? We can’t do the work for you, Geto,” Mimiko points out, ever the voice of reason. “You have to show some interest. Or have you forgotten how dating works?”

“Oh snap,” Nanako mumbles under her breath in a cheeky manner.

Geto shoots a glare at them both.

“I have half a mind to ground you both,” he grumbles as he idly sips on the coffee you have been kind enough to offer him. He averts his gaze to the window. The sun is beginning to set. The hour is drawing to a close soon. Meaning they should not overstay their welcome here.

He glances at his watch. 4:45PM. Yes, it’s time they take their leftovers and leave.

“Hey,” you swing by their table with a grin. Ah, perfect. “Need to go boxes for these?”

“Yes,” Geto answers, offering you a more practiced smile. He’s one to speak of genuineness yet he can’t bring himself to wear a real smile. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, really!” you insist, tilting your head slightly. “Customers like you make my life better.”

As you whip around and saunter off to fetch those to go boxes and bags, he’s staring at you in a state of mild shock. When he finally snaps out of his stupor, his gaze flits back to the girls who have knowing grins on their faces, and he groans.

“That’s enough from both of you,” he chastises and maintains a blank expression as you return with the boxes and bags.

“Here you go! Have a great evening!” You wave before you go off to tell other remaining customers that closing time is nearing.

Geto freezes as he stares at you again. He’s stunned. Not only are you accountable, nurturing, and kind, you’re consistent. He likes that in a person, indeed. Sorcerer or not.

“Geto,” Nanako teases in a singsong voice, gathering the food. “Let’s go. You have some important meeting later, ‘member?”

Realization hits--that's right--and he downs the rest of the coffee because he needs the energy.

“Right,” he grunts, sauntering out of the café with them.

Not before sparing you another curious glance, twisting away when you stare back at him.

What a strange family…

It’s that thought that still lingers in your mind as you unlock the door to your studio apartment and step inside, the click of the lock behind you bringing you a sense of ease. You toe your tennis shoes off and toss your bag onto the couch as you shuffle into the quaint living room. You’re set free from the chaos of the café now and you are always comforted by the silence.

Soon you find yourself sprawled across your bed, sinking into the soft feathery mattress. You gaze up at the ceiling as your mind drifts back to the encounter with those twins at work. You remember their names this time—Nanako and Mimiko. And then you can’t forget a presence like Geto’s—calm, almost detached. You want to call him a fish out of water, but that’s not quite the vibe you get from him. Even so, something about him unsettles you to the very core. There’s something… off with his picture, and you can’t wrap your head around what.

You’re frowning, and you try to shake off the unease settling into your soul. It’s not like you haven’t encountered stranger things in your life. You should see him as just any other customer. Another customer who lives to indulge his twin girls who aren’t even his by blood, but that’s not even any of your business. You just can’t help but find that as endearing as you find him unsettling. Because how rare of a find that is—most men don’t even want to take care of their own kin let alone kids that aren’t their own. It’s not like you actually like him or something.

Right?

Another sigh escapes your lips as your muscles begin to relax. You shut your eyes for a moment. You promise yourself an hour of decompressing, setting a mental timer as you glance at your digital clock.

But even as you attempt to shove the moments with them at the café out of your mind, your thoughts keep bouncing back in full force. You have overheard some of their conversations as you worked your ass off in that last hour. You hear about Nanako teasing Geto about you. You do take notice on how they stay a little longer at the café than most customers do. Most of your customers are in and out, not much of the lounging types. You at times catch him staring—calculating, assessing you. His gaze is just as unsettling as everything else about him. You pull the covers up around yourself, as if to ward off that bad omen.

You try to tell yourself that you must be overthinking it all. He’s probably just thinking about the girls and getting lost in thought just like you do. That’s all. Yet the logic doesn’t quite add up in your mind, nor does it quell the fluttering in your heart.

That hour of decompression feels more like seconds to you as your alarm blares on your phone, which you switch off. It’s time to shift gears and bury yourself in schoolwork. You set a hard limit for 11PM because you need proper rest. You sit up, stretching your arms over your head before you hop out and fetch your bookbag, settling your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Switching on your lamp. You find some comfort in the routine. It makes you feel like you really are working toward something better for yourself.

You flip through one of your larger textbooks for your heftier readings. Definitely not as bad as you expect—just a chapter or two to burn through. Some written assignments to complete that aren’t due until later in the week. Nothing terrible at all, and certainly nothing you can’t handle.

All you’re taking this semester is two or so classes. That’s the recommended work load for a graduate student anyway. Nothing unmanageable for you at all even with some part time work. Right? You try to keep some kind of balance. You aren’t going to let the work at the café and the coursework bog you down and you have been doing just fine thus far.

You can totally handle this.

As you pull out your laptop to begin typing the first few sentences of one of your assignments, you still can’t shake off the feeling of that unease. Something that you feel like you’re missing—and it of course involves that strange family.

Your mind flashes with the memory of the twins’ giggling faces and the way Geto’s eys follow you around the café.

There’s no way. You shake your head. Don’t entertain the idea.

But why does he even keep coming back? You can’t believe you’re asking that question as your fingers hover over the keyboard. Is it really just for those twin girls?

Why does he keep drifting back into your thoughts? Ever present, nagging. You try to focus on your task at hand. You have deadlines to meet. You can’t allow any room for distractions right now.

You ignore the sudden draft in your room, shivering as goosebumps rise on your arms. Blissfully unaware of the curse spirit latching onto your door, keeping watch.

“You seem really into this girl,” Satoru muses out loud, reclining on the couch with his legs splayed across it as if the world and all its trivial concerns don’t even touch him. His fingers swipe through the pictures he’s taken of you on his smart phone—moments when you were completely unaware of his hypersensitive Six Eyes tracking your every move. The grin on his face is mischievous, the kind that promises trouble’s brewing. “Not like I blame you, though—she’s really hot. And if your girls don’t seem threatened or scared of her, that must mean something, right?”

Geto’s eyes narrow into slits as he observes Satoru from his spot across the room, his arms folded over his chest. He lounges in a wooden rocking chair positioned by the window, where the rays of the setting sun streak across the floor, coating him in a warm, amber light. The soft glow plays on his sharp features, making him appear more and more like a God on his throne. Geto doesn’t answer immediately, allowing the silence hang between them as he contemplates the situation while gazing out in the window.

“Do you think you can handle the idea of another in our lives, Satoru?” the curse user finally asks, tone low. There’s a strange hint of softness to his tone, a contrast to his usual indifference he strives to hold. His fingers tap against the window pane absently, the subtle rhythm betraying the inner workings of his mind.

Never one to hang onto serious conversations, a lazy grin spreads across Satoru’s face, and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as his sharp blue eyes lock on Geto’s violet ones.

“Of course I can! What kind of guy do you think I am? I mean, I like her too! She’s definitely our type.” He laughs, though the tone is a little off.

“Not to mention—” He flicks to a picture on his phone, pinching the screen to zoom in before turning it toward Geto. “Just look at those boobs! I bet you’re thinking of suckin’ on them until they're bruised all over, right?”

Geto’s jaw slackens, a faint blush colors his pale complexion.. He shifts in his spot, less from the vulgarity of Satoru’s comment since that’s practically second nature for him, but from the raw truth behind those words. His eyes flit to the image, ignoring the heat rushing to his groin before his gaze flits back to the setting sun outside.

“Satoru…” Geto begins, his tone laden in warning, but there’s no true bite to his words.

“Hey, hey, I’m just saying~!” Satoru teases, his grin ever present as light laughter bubbles up from his chest. He stretches his arms over his head, his shock white hair catching the dying sunlight and making it sparkle like the twinkling stars. His playful tone still lingers, though there’s a hint of curiosity in his words—always a hidden agenda with that guy. They’re alike in that way. “You’ve always been a boob guy, right?”

Geto drags out a long sigh, the drumming of his fingers ceasing for a moment.

“Sure,” he mutters in a snippy tone, more to entertain Satoru’s comment than actually conceding to the fact. Even if it is true, there’s far more to it than that which he’s struggling to accept. The truth is more complicated than it needs to be. You do have perfect assets Geto will gladly take advantage of when the time comes. But you’re more than just a pretty face and a body…a sentiment that unsettles him far more than he ever cares to admit to anyone, least of all to Satoru.

Satoru, still laughing heartedly to the point his shoulders shook with mirth, rests his phone on the arm of the couch as he leans back into it again, draping one arm over the larger back of the couch.

“So why her, anyway?” he asks as his tone softens a bit, that teasing tone melding into one more laden with genuine curiosity and sincerity—a side to him only Geto gets to see. His eyes now flicker with another rare moment of seriousness. “She’s not a sorcerer. Isn’t hating people who aren’t sorcerers your whole thing?”

Geto’s expression hardens. At this point the gentle warmth of the sunset fades, and the shift of the lighting mirrors the shift in his demeanor. His posture stiffens and he doesn’t respond right away, allowing the question to hang in the air as he ponders over what to say. His gaze flits down to his feet, as if in the middle of choosing an appropriate response.

“The girls insist I should find someone,” he replies through a sigh, his voice a bit distant and wistful. His words seem detached from the deeper conflict seeping into his bones like red wine. “And you know as well as me that the odds of me finding a sorcerer as a partner are slim.”

Satoru quirks an eyebrow at that, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He sinks further into the couch, his gaze still fixed on Geto. Geto flashes him a reassuring smile.

“You aside, of course,” he adds.

“Hey, I’m the only option you have,” Satoru interjects with a playful wink, his arrogance bouncing back as quickly as it deflated for a split second—very easy to miss if you don’t know him as well as Geto did. He straightens his posture, counting on his fingers as he tries to remember all of the lady sorcerers he knows well. “Of course, there’s also Utahime and Shoko, but I don’t think that’ll work, all things considered.”

Geto finds himself chuckling at the notion in spite of himself. Even the corners of his lips quirk up ever slightly. What a rare break in his stoic mask.

“No doubt about that,” he concedes with a hum.

Satoru adjusts his posture again, sitting up straighter as those brilliant sky blue eyes of him glimmer with mischief.

“Well, it’s good that you’re opening yourself up to the possibility,” he goes on, as his voice drops to a smoother, predatory tone. His fingers drum against his knees as he assesses the situation. “And I like that I get to have a taste of that ass whenever I want, too!” The grin he sports now is wolfish, devilish more than playful and light. “The lady isn’t nearly as nice to me as she is to you and it’s pissing me off a little. I think I may punish her for that when you finally court her.”

Geto flits his gaze back to Satoru, the amusement in his violet eyes fading entirely.

“Satoru,” he chides, his voice edging toward menacing this time.

But Satoru brushes him off with a laugh, unbothered as ever by Geto’s sudden shift in tone—the fucking brat.

“Chill out, Suguru!” He waves his hand in a dismissive manner before cocking his head, his expression melding into something softer again. “But seriously, though—why her? I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

Geto takes another deep breath, before exhaling slowly as he brushes his fingers through his long, luscious locks that he works so hard to maintain. As his gaze drifts back to the window, it’s not the scenery which holds his attention. Not that he’s even paid much attention to it—the view in Satoru’s penthouse isn’t something he’s not used to at this point. He sees it all the time. It’s you. You infiltrate his thoughts like an ambush. You are so kind to he girls. You don’t appear to even flinch at his presence, not that you know a damn thing about him. He finds you’re tolerable, much unlike the other monkeys running the circus out there.

And that sentiment, too, is unsettling.

“The girls are fond of her,” he admits quietly, it seems that’s reason enough for him. “She’s so warm around them.”

Satoru finds himself nodding along to Geto’s words, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess I get it. She does seem like someone who can help you.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Geto retaliates with a frown. Satoru raises his hand in mock defeat.

“I’m just saying you need someone to help you get some frustration out! That’s all,” he insists, “And other things. You kind of keep shit all bottled up all the time. Even with me!”

Silence stretches over them another time. The sky has faded into twilight. Satoru shuffles around to switch on some of those fancy ambiance lamps he keeps in different corners of the room before moving over to the small bar in another far corner, fetching a bottle of sake and two glasses and returning to the couch.

Geto rises from his seat, waltzing over to join Satoru on the couch as he pours them both some of that expensive sake.

“We’ll make some arrangements soon,” he announces, raising the glass to his lips.

“Just hurry the fuck up, dude,” Satoru mirrors his motion, hiding the smirk tugging at his lips behind his glass. “I’m starting to get real impatient, you know. I’m dying to find out how she might feel squirming on my cock.”

The curse user casts him a sidelong glance, with an unreadable expression. His mind flashes back to you, your smile, your ready hands as you attend to the girls. Sure, you have no idea who—or what—he is or what he is capable of, both he and Satoru. You have no idea that he’s been following you since you began working there for a myriad of reasons beyond mere curiosity. It isn’t just about him this time. The girls desire you as well. Satoru desires you as well.

Geto whacks him on the shoulder with his free hand.

“What?” he snaps, appalled, his sunglasses moving out of place from the sudden blow.

“Don’t be so crass,” he replies as he sips idly on the sake. “Save that for me tonight.”

Satoru snorts in response, wrapping an arm around Geto’s shoulder as he downs his glass of sake in one go.

“Besides,” Geto goes on, placing his half-full glass onto the low table. “You know how things can get when you pick on the weak too much.”

Satoru perks an eyebrow as his lips twitch into another smirk. “Seriously? Since when have you given a damn about that all over again? Then again, you’ve always been a little too righteous.”

Geto doesn’t have a straight answer for that. Something flickers in his gaze—something even Satoru Gojo knows better than to challenge. Geto is a patient, careful man, but he knows there are consequences to things like this. Treading into far more unconventional grounds.

“It’s something we need to ease her into,” he finalizes with a hum.

It’s not often Geto is concerned for the wellbeing of anyone who isn’t a sorcerer. It’s kind of…shocking. Satoru doesn’t know what to make of this change in his friend, however subtle.

“Come on,” Satoru sighs, resting a palm on his forehead. “She can take whatever we give her. She’s probably a lot stronger than she looks. Besides, why do you care so much all of a sudden?”

Geto grumbles, “I’m not so sure how much of ‘us’ she can handle, Satoru.”

“She can handle everything we want her to—no matter what we do to her! Sheesh. Stop worrying so much!” Satoru assures him with a pat on his shoulder. “Come on, Suguru! You’ll make the moves when the time is right. Besides, she’s kind of already ours, right? Not like anyone can interfere when the two strongest sorcerers have someone like her all to themselves, right?”

“Right,” he replies with a smirk. “It’s unlikely anything will interfere.”

Satoru beams. “There he is! There’s the Suguru I know—mphf!”

He’s interrupted with Geto’s lips plunging onto his; Geto’s arms resting on his hips. Satoru melts into the kiss—one thing that hasn’t changed is that Geto will always be his weakness. He will always bend to his will no matter what.

Geto pins Satoru’s body to the couch with his, kissing down his neck. Satoru purrs, rolling his hips into Suguru’s and smirking a bit when the other man hisses.

“Behave,” he chides as his lips slide down to Satoru’s pelvis, where he presses a kiss to the growing bulge there. Satoru inhales sharply, his hands flying down to grip Suguru’s hair.

“Be good,” he chides again with a string of chuckles as he unzips Satoru’s pants with his teeth.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whines, tossing his head back as Geto removes his cock, stroking it gingerly as he peppers kisses around the tip.

“We need to make this quick, Satoru, or the girls will wonder where I’ve been.”

With that, he engulfs his cock in one languid motion and Satoru chokes on a gasp, fingers clawing at Geto’s hair.

“Please hurry up and fuck me!” he begs through another whimper, his eyes pleading. The other man can’t help but coo at the pathetic sight. Geto hushes him as he bobs his head, slurping on his length. He takes him entirely; his mouth resting at the base of his cock.

He moves back to the tip, swirling his tongue at the pre leaking from it.

Gojo’s flushed state is absolutely adorable.

At some point Geto yanks Gojo’s pants and boxers entirely off. Such pesky clothes, always making things more difficult than what is necessary.

“The only way you’re coming tonight is if you’re inside me, Satoru,” he growls, grasping the base of his cock as he plants kisses all around it. “I know you can hold it for me, can’t you?”

Gojo manages a nod before another moan escapes his lips. So he’s not the one bottoming tonight then?

Guess Suguru is in one of those moods…just needs to forgo reality for a bit.

Satoru’s eyes clench shut as Geto engulfs his cock entirely again.

This is going to be a long night…

After you finish typing up an assignment, you glance at the clock. It’s only 9PM, so that gives you enough time to spare for a little self-care. You let out a deep sigh as you feel some tension lift from your shoulders, slouching back in your chair.

Student life can get a little lonely. The job at the bakery helps in the sense that you’re around people a little bit more. But you haven’t made much of an effort to make any real connections.

Looks like it’s another solo night with me bouncing on my vibrator or something… you think, glancing at the drawer at your side table.

Shrugging, you slink out of your chair and pad to the restroom, yanking off the robe hanging on the door.

You really hate to admit it, but you can’t logic your way out of desiring companionship yourself.

That’s something for you to cry about in the shower now.

178 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 8 months ago

Text

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

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canihaveacalmtime · 2 months ago

Text

Your entire life wasn't any eventful in any means aside from the fact that you were targeted and bullied in your intire school life from primary to highschool by the same pair of twin brothers.

You don't know how it started, you don't know when it started, hell you don't even know why they targeted you out of all the other weaklings.

Everyday, the moment you step your foot inside the school ground, they always going to find a way to make your soul jump out of your own body and begin their daily mocking essay, perform it straight into your ears then leaving you with a new wound deep within your mental health.

Near the end of the final year of highschool, you begin to form a plan that will separate you and them forever by telling them with a scared tone about what college you will attend when they ask, behind the scene, you will begin study hard for another further away college, maybe even try to get in one that's out of the country.

Your plan worked and you begin following your dreamt path that you've chosen, you felt relieved, you felt happiness, you felt like the biggest obstacle in your life has been gone.

For the moment, at least.

So imagine meeting them again after applying for a secretary job and now having them as your boss? Sure it'd be so horrific due to them forcing you to work over hours and dump so many paperworks on your work table everyday. Even so, you noticed that they aren't like how they were like years ago anymore and for some kind of reason, you feel really nauseous and wary, your mind screams to you so.

One late night, a day where you have to work over hours, you got really surprised when you realize they haven't went home like how they used to but instead stay and out of nowhere handing you a small box of (flavor) tiramisu cake, saying that they just want to gift you something for your help with assist the company to reach the top 10 in the country.

To you, that excuse were rather foolish to say the least, your mind insist on telling you that you must not take that but your body really needs sugar or it'll collapse by the next 30 minutes so you accepted and politely thanked them. So you wait for them to leave your work room, then finally feel safe enough to take a bite.

The only image you see before you black out was the big twin carrying you in the bridal style as the small twin holding you face, they both have the same love sick face directly at you.

----------

Back when the three of you were in kindergarten, you were the only one who helped them fight off the bullying and rude comments from other kids. Those kids called the twin as ugly, weirdos, psychopaths and any other snarky comments they could make out.

Technically, you were friends with them until primary when they began to becone very popular because they have grow their hidden beauty and no longer the shy and weak twins you know anymore. They turned against you, begin to call you names, begin to use their powers against you and soon enough, you no longer have the will to continue thinking that they will change back to themselves before and accept your fate as a fun thing for them to curse, hit and make a show out of.

That's the 'point of view' that you've been living in for your entire life, your point of view only but how about their point of view?

The twins despite born in a super wealthy family, they never really get to experience 'love' as their parent always busy with works and outside relationships related to business so for them to not know how to understand love let alone giving out love, is a completely normal thing.

They really love you, they wish to cherish you, to protect you and make you happy but they didn't know how and the way they used to express their feelings towards you ended up making your life miserable. They didn't stop the bullying until they went through with the plan of putting cameras in your house, that's when they realized how much damage they have already done to you but fixing that would already be too late since the time they knew about that was also the time you made the plan to cut them off completely.

When you moved out of your parent house, went to the college you study so hard to get in and enjoying the freedom to longed for, they were waking up everyday to regret and hopes of finding you again after they knew about your leave.

The moment they saw you as their new secretary, they knew that they can't not waste anymore time they've already wasted, either they lock you in their arms now or lose you again, forever.

----------

As you wake up from a good sleep since a long time, you immediately know that this room is not yours and by the small picture on the bedside table, you can already guess where you are right now. You noticed that you're currently wearing your favorite type of sleep clothes, you flop back down on the comfy bed, wanting to have another good sleep when suddenly you hear the door open.

The twin notice you've already awaken and are looking at them right now so they await for your reaction, wether it's positive or not but what they didn't expect is you just casually say "hey" to them. And you, you don't even know where did that came from but it felt nice to greet them like how the three of you used to be in kindergarten.

When you were still spacing out, a hand had placed on your head to ruffle your hair follow by a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Did you have a good sleep, darling?"

You look at them for a few seconds before nodding lightly, they also notice that you've been spacing ever so slightly.

"Is something bothering you?"

"No", you said, "it's nothing, just... it's been a while since we talk- like this and it's not that I feel uncomfortable, I-I like it, it feels nice, I was just.. trying to get familiar with the old feelings and-"

"Alright alright", they smile, "we get it (y/n), it is really nice."

They stand up from the bed and look at you, "Let's go have breakfast, you must be hungry now, we gonna have (favorite food) today, what do you think?"

You give them a soft smile.

"Let's go enjoy it then."

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

A/N: This is much more longer than I anticipated, dayum 💀 Still, hope y'all enjoy it though, not the best work but I kinda like this one. I can write more about them if you like lmao, do let me know in the comments ❤

#calmwrites #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere twins #gn reader #yandere drabble

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megalony · 9 months ago

Text

Have You Slept

This is an Evan Buckley imagine based on a request and I am hoping to make it into a little series if anyone would like that. Any feedback is always amazing, I really loved writing this one.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: Evan invites the team to meet his wife and twins who he is very protective over. As one of the boys is autistic and (Y/n) happens to have narcolepsy.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"…It'll be great, Buck you're coming this time right?"

Evan paused a few feet away from the dining table in the station annex. He let his fingers continue to card through his wet locks that were forming into curls, flopping about near his forehead. He'd just had a shower and was ready to gulp down some lunch ready for whenever the bell sounded for their next call out.

He seemed to have missed the first part to whatever conversation was running rampid in the kitchen.

With a small, if confused smile, Evan walked over to the table and sat down opposite Eddie and Hen. He darted his eyes between the pair of them and Bobby and Chimney who were stood in the kitchen, finishing up grabbing plates and cutlery.

Evan had been working at the station for roughly a year now and it had been the best job he'd ever had. This had been the quickest that he had made friends in a new job and felt like he really fitted in with his co-workers. He could call these people his family, Bobby was more of a parent to Evan than his own parents were.

He felt at home with his work mates, unlike the other random jobs he'd had in the past like being a bar tender or the brief stint he had at being a bouncer. He didn't connect with people in those jobs and he didn't feel like he was making a difference like he did working at the fire house. But some things didn't change, like Evan's desire to keep his life separate from his work.

Working at the station made Evan feel excited about each new day on shift and he felt like these people were his family. They were a safe group of people to work alongside and call his friends.

"My uh, my first what?" He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table with his hands tangled together.

The way Eddie grinned across at him and the knowing smile on Bobby's face made Evan relax and manage a smile himself. It couldn't be anything bad or somewhat awkward if they were being so relaxed about it.

"We were just talking about the annual summer party the station has every year. It happens to be next week."

"Oh, yeah."

It didn't seem that long ago that they had all been having a barbeque a month or so back.

Evan remembered when he first started at the station they had been throwing a big party here but he didn't feel close enough to anyone to attend. Then there had been the halloween party, the pictures made it look like a successful night, but Evan didn't go to that one either. Finn didn't like halloween so Evan had made sure he had the night off to stay home.

And as for the Christmas party they had, Evan had been on shift that night and he wasn't really bothered about attending so he was happy to work while everyone else went out partying.

They seemed to make any excuse to have a party, not that Evan was complaining. He'd never had parties at any other places he worked at before. This was a pleasant change.

Bobby had talked about them always doing a Christmas party and finding a few extra people to cover the shifts so the 118 could go all out and enjoy the festivities. Evan guessed they would do that for the summer party too, find more staff to cover so as many regular staff as possible could attend.

"Yes we are, and I'm hosting this year." Bobby grinned as he set down a large bowl of lasagne in the middle of the table and took his usual seat next to Evan.

Usually they had as many parties as they could in the station to promote families being around and being included. But they couldn't have a summer party indoors. It was the middle of the summer and that meant they needed to be outside, in the sun and the sweltering heat. It was more of an occasion when a party was at someone's house and Bobby and Athena were always up for hosting parties.

"Are you gonna come to this one?" Hen reached across the table and started to dish up the lasagne onto everyone's plate but her smile was directed at Evan. They always invited him but he hadn't attended one of their parties yet.

It was strange for the team to have someone like Evan in their midst. Someone who was so bubbly, excitable and eager and like a bubble of fun. He was one of them, well and truly, but he was still somewhat distant with the team. They were only just beginning to learn about Evan's private life. They knew he had a turbulent relationship with his parents. They knew he was married and had two kids but Evan didn't talk about them that much.

They had only just met Evan's wife last month and that was a flying visit. Eddie was the only one out of the whole team who knew (Y/n) because he had been to Evan's house and Evan and (Y/n) had taken care of Chris a few times.

"I guess I could swing by for a while."

"Really?"

A bubble of adrenaline sparked up in Evan's chest and he nodded when Hen sounded so enthusiastic and Eddie grinned and gave him a thumbs up. They wanted him there. They really wanted to be around him and interact with him. Evan guessed they really were becoming his family now.

"Can I bring my family with me?" Evan almost felt guilty for asking but if he was going to do this, he wanted his family there with him. He knew parties meant bringing loved ones along but he wanted to be sure, he would never want to turn up and then feel like no one wanted his family around.

Everyone had been kind to (Y/n) when Evan brought her to the station and he was glad she was starting to become friends with the people he classed as his family.

Evan knew his wife wasn't very outgoing so it was nice for her to be around more people.

"Of course you can, kid. Our parties are for everyone, we're all one big family here and you're included in that. Bring whoever you like." Bobby clapped a hand down on Evan's shoulder and nodded at him reassuringly. They all brought their families round, it was a party, an occasion to be together and have fun and games and eat and just be together without the threat of having to rush off on a call.

"I was wondering…" Evan looked down at his plate before he glanced up. This was something he had been wanting to ask everyone and now was a better time than ever. "If you'd all like to come round for dinner, with my family? It'd be easier to get to know them before the party."

It would be a lot easier for everyone if the team could come over to Evan's house and meet (Y/n) and the boys first before he brought them to the party. (Y/n) and Finn didn't last long at parties for various reasons and Cole would be the only one who would be fine to stay for hours.

Evan wanted them all to get along and know each other like Eddie knew (Y/n) and the boys. Evan wanted that relationship with all the team. They were his family now and they meant the world to him.

Evan knew (Y/n) was already excited at the prospect of getting to know the people Evan worked with. She felt like she already knew them from the stories Evan told her when he came home from shift and her first meeting with the team had gone great. It was (Y/n)'s idea for Evan to invite them round for tea one day so they could all get together in a relaxed setting. And Evan wanted that to happen now before the party so at the party, everyone would be more familiar.

"That sounds lovely, you have two boys, don't you?" Hen never wanted to push the subject of family when she was around Evan.

She didn't want to make him feel like he had to open up and talk about his private life if he didn't want to. But when Evan talked to them in a few calm moments, he had said he had two boys with (Y/n). He didn't say much else though, not their names or their age and (Y/n) hadn't mentioned when they saw her a few weeks back.

"Yeah, we've got twins, Cole and Finn. They're four… um, I know you guys won't make a fuss, but just so you know, Finn's autistic. He's non-verbal."

Evan glanced his eyes around the table. Eddie and Chimney knew. Eddie had met the boys before and Chimney was close to Maddie who was close to the boys. He needed to tell them now before they came round and got a little surprise when they met the twins.

"He doesn't speak?" Chimney kept a smile on his face and tried to control his tone so Evan didn't think he was being rude. He didn't know anyone with an autistic child and all of them knew disabilities varied.

"Oh, no he… he won't say words, but he isn't exactly quiet. He babbles. A lot of random noises, and if he wants something he'll just grab you and take you to it. He loves meeting new people, he's taking a liking to Eddie."

Finn didn't say a lot of words. He could say a few things like his name or a mushed up version of random, compiled words. And Finn could understand every word spoken to him, he just couldn't quite talk yet but they were hoping he could start to learn soon. He would make a lot of noises, squealing when he was happy, screaming when he was sad. A lot of high pitch babbling when he was playing or concentrating or just happy.

When he first met Eddie, Finn attached himself to him. He took his hand and guided him into the kitchen and waited patiently for Eddie to make him a drink. Then he followed him around like a little shadow, always wanting to be close and entertained by him.

"I can't wait to meet him."

"Oh… and uh, no one has a problem with dogs, do they?" Evan glanced around the table as a light bulb went off in his head.

He'd almost forgotten about Dodger.

"Wow, full house, twins and a dog?" Bobby pushed his plate away and moved to grab his drink. It had been a while since Bobby had had a full house with Harry going to stay with his dad a lot and May getting ready to move out.

"Dodger's a service dog, for (Y/n) so if he starts barking or circling, don't mind him."

"What kind of service?" Hen could think of at least five different reasons someone would have a service dog and she wouldn't want to presume anything. But since Evan was opening up, she thought it might be good to get him talking to them. (Y/n) hadn't brought her service dog into the station when Evan introduced them, but Hen figured that was because Evan hadn't been on shift those days.

"(Y/n)'s got narcolepsy, random sleep attacks and cataplexy. You're all in for a treat when you come round mine next week."

***

Evan rolled his lips together and tilted his head to the side when he walked into the kitchen. His eyes darted between Dodger and (Y/n) before he slowly walked over to them both.

(Y/n) was stood near the sink, two glasses and two beer bottles in front of her. She looked like she was re-filling the drinks for everyone, but her hands were subtly shaking on the counter and she was stood motionless. When Evan looked down at Dodger, he could see the golden brown Labrador was sat faithfully at her left side. Nudging his nose against her leg and shifting his front feet around like he was tap-dancing.

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s stomach and her chest tingled when a strong pair of arms bound around her waist. She tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and glanced up at him, moving a little so she could catch his jaw with a kiss.

"You spaced, sweetheart." He spoke quietly against the top of her head while his hands danced over her stomach and slipped beneath her shirt to feel her bump.

"Hm," Her head tilted to push into the crook of Evan's neck and she moved her hands to cup his wrists.

With her narcolepsy, (Y/n) had a lot of side effects. Whenever she or Evan told people about her condition, they immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was lazy or just had a lot of naps during the day.

No one seemed to realise the side effects it had. (Y/n) had to schedule her sleep, go to bed at roughly the same time and try to get up at the same time each day to regulate her body clock. She was excessively tired most days. She had random sleep attacks that could be for a few seconds or a few minutes or even longer, they didn't always happen. (Y/n) could go three or five days or even a week or longer without an attack of any length.

It affected her dreams, she had vivid dreams, horrid nightmares, she acted out and lashed out in her sleep and unintentionally rolled onto Evan or hit him by mistake. She got sleep paralysis quite often.

Headaches were continuous. And narcolepsy came with cataplexy, which was where she had sudden loss of muscle control. That could be her jaw slacking, her head dropping forward, her legs going numb and giving out on her. Slurred speech or difficulty focusing or paying attention.

"You okay?" Evan spoke into her hair and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"Yeah, didn't last long."

She hadn't spaced out for long. It didn't happen too often that (Y/n) had microsleeps where she would either close her eyes or her eyes would stay open but her mind would shut down for a few seconds. It could last between ten seconds to a few minutes for a microsleep but (Y/n) didn't get them very often.

"Have you slept today?" Evan kept one arm curved tight around (Y/n)'s stomach while he reached across the counter and finished pouring the two glasses of juice (Y/n) had started.

Routines for sleep helped (Y/n) and she tried not to take naps during the day to keep a regular sleep schedule. But now she was pregnant again, she was trying to take at least one small nap during the day. It stopped her feeling so tired and lessened the chances of random sleep attacks. It was hard enough looking after the twins when they weren't at nursery, (Y/n) didn't need to collapse in front of them.

"Not today," She hadn't had chance to take a nap today, not with the boys being pumped up and excited about having people over for dinner. There was a lot for (Y/n) to prepare and get ready and now the team were here, there was no way she could take a power nap now.

(Y/n) slowly turned around in Evan's arms and pressed her hips up against the counter while her hands roamed up and down his chest. She loved the way his hands squeezed her hips and tried to slip beneath her leggings until she shimmied to stop him.

"We have guests- Finn, what are you doing to uncle Eddie?" Her hands scrunched up into Evan's shirt when he stood closer between her legs.

But both their heads turned to look over at the kitchen doorway when Finn appeared. He had a wide grin on his features, obscured by his thumb that he was biting down on. And his other hand was tightly gripping Eddie's hand as he dragged him from the conservatory where they were having dinner and brought him all the way through into the kitchen.

Eddie had his free hand on his hip, but he was happy to be shown around by Finn. The moment Eddie walked through the door, Finn had attached himself to his leg while Cole had gone straight to Bobby because he knew he was the Captain at the station.

Evan leaned closer into (Y/n) and grinned when Finn toddled past him and dragged Eddie behind him like he was a dog on a leash.

He moved towards the fridge and stood in front of it, pointing up at the fridge as he started to make a noise that sounded somewhat like 'wow' over and over.

"What're you after?" Eddie leaned down and scooped Finn up into his arms so he could look into the fridge and find what he clearly wanted. When Finn pointed to the small cartons of apple juice, Eddie held one out towards (Y/n) and waited for a nod of approval before he handed it over to Finn and set him back down to his feet.

Evan held out one of the beer bottles towards Eddie on his way past following after Finn.

"Shall we?" He mumbled quietly in (Y/n)'s ear, keeping his arm tight around her waist as he grabbed the two glasses in one hand while (Y/n) got the other beer bottle. She leaned her back into Evan's chest while Dodger trotted faithfully by her side.

She didn't always take Dodger out with her but she did if Evan wasn't with her. The moment he started working at the fire station, Evan started to worry. (Y/n) was at home alone with twin boys, one of whom was always on his feet and quite a handful. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) collapsing or hurting herself or falling unconscious with toddlers around and no one to help.

Dodger solved that problem. He could sense (Y/n)'s heartbeat and if her heartbeat dropped, then she was about to fall asleep. He whined and cried and nudged her arm or circled around her legs to get her to sit down. If she dropped or fell, Dodger would try and let her fall on him so he could nudge her onto the floor. And if (Y/n) had a microsleep, he circled around her so if they were in public, people knew something was wrong. Dodger would bark at any stranger that tried to come near or touch (Y/n).

They headed into the conservatory and (Y/n) placed the beer down in front of Bobby before she passed behind him to sit down next to Hen.

"Do you drive the truck too?" Cole leaned back in his seat and looked up from the toy truck in his hand towards Hen who was sat on his right. He was happily wedged between Hen and Chimney while Bobby, Evan and Eddie on the other side of the table. And Finn was happily sat on Evan's knee, although his focus was mainly on Eddie.

"Sometimes, but I normally drive the ambulance."

"Can daddy drive the ambulance?" He looked between Hen and Bobby, waiting patiently for an answer as he had been asking questions since the moment they arrived.

"We don't let your dad drive, he's Mr speedy."

Evan tilted his head up with a proud smile when Cole grinned and murmured "I like daddy's driving." He put his truck down next to him on the table near Chimney and started to eat his dinner again.

"That's only because I don't drive." (Y/n) glanced her head up and bit her lip when Evan's foot glided up her leg and nudged her in the knee in retaliation. The boys weren't used to anyone but Evan and Maddie driving them around, and it was mainly Evan.

If they went out with (Y/n) she had to walk or take the bus and wear her sunflower lanyard just in case she had an episode while they were out. The boys were used to Evan driving so if he cut the corners or went a bit fast, that was a normality to them and they felt safe with Evan because they were used to his driving. (Y/n) couldn't drive, she had never taken lessons and never could. It would be too dangerous.

"So, how far along are you?"

"Five and a half months." (Y/n) absentmindedly smoothed her hand across her abdomen as she smiled across at Hen. She leaned across the table for a piece of garlic bread and held one out to Finn. The four year old was currently stood up on Evan's lap, leaning back into his chest with their heads pressed together. It would make for a lovely photo since Finn was grinning madly.

"So we've only got Buck for another three months then?" Bobby knew Evan would be asking him for annual leave soon. Evan wanted to get his time off sorted out now so it was set in stone. He had to be home for at least two weeks after the baby was born. When (Y/n) had the twins she hadn't been well at all and Evan didn't want that happening again with him not being able to stay home and help her.

"Afraid so."

"I don't know how you're all gonna cope without me."

Evan leaned his head to the left and a soft smile flooded his face when Finn started to kiss his hair. He began making a bopping sound while his hands rested on Evan's shoulders to keep himself stood upright on his dad's lap.

A new line of conversation flooded the air and Evan tried to keep focused and chip in but his eyes kept landing on (Y/n) across the table.

She had her chin resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the table and her other hand was on her stomach. But it was the dazed look in her eyes that worried him. She wasn't talking either and if she started to drift, she might end up having another microsleep.

He moved his leg beneath the table and rubbed his foot up against her knee to try and grab her attention. The action made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and she lifted her eyes to look at Evan before she tried to look back at Hen for the conversation. She had one of her usual headaches. She had been feeling a lot more drowsy and tired lately and she knew it was because of the baby.

(Y/n) didn't feel so ashamed or embarrassed now to say that she was overly tired or that she needed to start taking naps during the day again. She was pregnant and was already looking after twins.

She always used to feel like she needed excuses to be tired, so people wouldn't think she was lazy. Evan always put her mind at rest. She had a condition that couldn't be cured or helped, it could only be controlled. And Evan never wanted (Y/n) to feel like she had to find excuses to explain the way she felt. Especially not around him.

"Thank you." Evan whispered quietly when Finn kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him. He moved his hands from his dad's shoulders to wrap them around Evan's neck and he giggled when Evan started to sway them from side to side.

Whenever Finn couldn't sleep ever since he was a toddler, Evan used to pace up and down the room swaying him back and forth. Evan barely got whiplash or felt dizzy from the hundreds of times he had gone in circles because the motion was so soothing to Finn.

Evan smiled as Chimney started to go into the long-winded reasoning behind his nickname.

But his smile started to drop when he heard Dodger suddenly bark.

Evan lifted his head and leaned towards Eddie on his left to try and look over the end of the table. Dodger was prancing his weight between his front feet and he started to nudge his nose and mouth against (Y/n)'s thigh. That meant he was sensing (Y/n)'s heartbeat starting to drop.

She was going to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart-" Evan bolted up from his seat when (Y/n)'s head slipped off her hand and dropped forward.

Her arm flopped down onto the table with a loud thud but before her head could land in her dinner, Evan swiftly caught her. He juggled Finn in his left arm, keeping the toddler pinned against his chest while his right hand pressed against (Y/n)'s temple. He leaned his hips into the table and leaned across, trying to stop himself from landing in anyone's dinner.

His thumb swiped across (Y/n)'s hairline while he tensed his elbow to keep his arm straight and hold (Y/n)'s weight up. He could feel her chest digging into the edge of the table, she had gone fully limp which meant this was more than a microsleep like she'd had earlier.

"Wow, hey I've got her. Good catch." Hen placed her hand over Evan's on (Y/n)'s temple and swooped her free arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully reel her back. She leaned (Y/n) back in her chair and held the back of her neck so her head didn't flop back and cause her any neck pain.

Eddie wordlessly reached out to take Finn while Evan scooted round the back of the chairs and moved next to (Y/n)'s chair.

"Good boy." Evan clicked his tongue and pointed until Dodger backed up and sat near the conservatory door just behind (Y/n)'s chair. He knew to move back when Evan was around but he always stayed dutifully close just in case he was still needed.

Evan pushed up on his knees and rubbed one hand up and down (Y/n)'s knee while he cradled the side of her neck in his other hand. He let her head loll to the side so she was facing him and he pressed his fingers over pulse just to check it was still steady and calm.

"Can we do anything?"

"She'll come round in a minute, she's fine."

He leaned over to kiss (Y/n)'s shoulder while he waited. It didn't usually take long for her to come back around. Evan had only had it once where (Y/n) had a sleep attack that lasted half an hour. That was the longest he had ever known (Y/n) to have an attack for and it had scared the daylights out of him.

"Mummy falls asleep but dad always catches her." Cole grinned up at Chimney before he glanced down at the other end of the table.

It was a normality for the twins. Cole was used to seeing his mum space out or see her stumble when her legs gave out from her cataplexy or when she head-dropped frequently like this. He had been brought up to know it was normal for his mum and that it wasn't scary or dangerous and he knew how to help if it happened when they were alone. And Cole always knew his dad would look after (Y/n) when it happened.

Finn didn't seem to take much notice. He had grown up around this happening so it wasn't frightening for him. He would just sit by (Y/n) and wait for it to wear off which was a relief for Evan to know it never scarred Finn or sent him into a meltdown.

"There we go," Evan's thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s cheek and he smiled when a small groan murmured past her lips.

Her head leaned into the palm of his hand and her eyes started to flutter and blink rapidly. A headache burned behind her eyes and spots danced in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when she managed to focus her sights on Evan. She must have dropped off for him to of moved so quickly down in front of her like this.

A shiver rolled down her arm when she felt Hen gently take her left wrist and check her pulse out of habit.

"I- sorry… how long?" (Y/n) tilted her chin down into her chest and tried to clear the fuzzy feeling from her head. It always felt like her head was being filled with air and the blood drained down to her toes. She shakily reached her hand up to hold Evan's wrist and brush her thumb across the back of his hand.

But when she looked over at Eddie, her expression dropped as he checked his watch. "Half an hour."

"Oi! Don't panic her like that." Evan reached behind him and swatted his hand out against Eddie's knee who rose a brow and grinned. He knew (Y/n) couldn't tell how long she had zoned out for and she hated to have an episode in front of friends in case it did last a while and she ruined things. "You were out for a minute, baby. That's all."

Leaning forward, Evan kissed her shoulder before he reached out and grabbed the stool in the corner. He dragged it across so he could sit at the end of the table close to (Y/n). Now she had had one episode, she was liable to have another and he wanted to sit nearby ready for if another happened and he had to catch her again.

Evan had acquired lightning reflexes since being with (Y/n) and he thought of it as his super power, being able to catch her before she fell or her head dropped.

He curved his arm around her waist and gripped her thigh soothingly while (Y/n) held his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Does it happen often?"

"It's not as bad as it used to be… when I had the twins my cataplexy flared up every day." (Y/n) shivered at the thought. She could still remember when she was pregnant with the twins and the amount of times her head would drop or her legs would give way.

She remembered having to call Evan at work and ask him to come home because she'd had an episode and her head had slammed so hard and fast into the dining table that she gave herself a nosebleed that wouldn't stop.

At least with this pregnancy, so far things felt a little easier and her cataplexy wasn't playing up nearly as much.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and looked up at Finn when he started to babble something. The four year old began tapping his palm against his lips, making an odd popping sound that distorted whatever he was trying to say. Usually Finn's sounds weren't related to anything he wanted, he would make happy sounds or mush up words but if he wanted something he would just point.

"What's up mister?" He bounced Finn on his hip until Finn stood up on his thighs and pointed his hand over at Evan and (Y/n). "What… do you want your dad?"

Evan leaned back against (Y/n)'s chair and grinned over at his boy, but the smile faded from his face immediately when Fin started to babble.

"Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Daddy."

"Oh my God," (Y/n) pushed forward in her chair, bracing her hands on the table as she darted her eyes between Finn and Evan. She needed confirmation that she'd just heard that correctly. Did he just say that?

"What?… You said he babbles-"

"Yeah but he's never said my name before." Evan ran his fingers through his hair before he pushed up from the table. "He's never said a proper word- he's said my name!"

Finn didn't speak. That was why Evan had told the team beforehand about Finn being autistic and non-verbal. He could say something that sounded similar to his name which usually came out as 'min-min' when he babbled. He made a lot of strange and happy sounds and 'ow-wow' noises but Finn didn't pronounce or speak.

The doctor had said there was every possible chance that in the future and when he went to a school that focused on speech and language, Finn had a good chance of talking. He might not say full sentences or pronounce properly, but there was a chance of him talking. He could understand words. Finn knew every word that was spoken to him and he could comprehend speech and conversations he just didn't respond.

(Y/n) could feel the tears welling up in her eyes when Evan bolted up from his seat and leaned across the table to take Finn from Eddie.

He settled Finn on his chest and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, unable to stop the broad smile from lighting up his face. He sat back down next to (Y/n) and started tickling Finn who continued to repeat 'daddy' so loud and fast it mushed together and came out all jumbled. But when he started to tap his hand on Evan's shoulder, it just cemented that he knew what he was saying.

He knew who Evan was and how to say his name.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Evan's shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck while she heard the rest of the team cheering. Evan was never going to let her live this down. He wasn't going to let her forget that Finn said his name first. That his first word, his first big achievement, was saying Evan's name.

"Daddy."

"Clever boy."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #buck x reader #buck imagine #have you slept

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lovebugism · 11 months ago

Note

ooooo what abt for blurbcember being alone on Christmas Eve w Steve x reader & once one of them realizes they are alone when they called they speed over and spend the night together, maybe confess some feelings too👀

hope you like it!! — you call steve when you end up alone on christmas eve and he comes over without thinking twice, 'cause that's what best friends are for, right? (friends in love, hurt/comfort, 1.4k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Just a moment ago, Steve Harrington was on his couch. He had an arm around his girlfriend and a scruffy cheek on her hair as they watched A Christmas Story for the third time that evening. His dad was snoring over it from his spot on the recliner while mom watched on from the kitchen, where she’d just popped in another batch of cookies.

Everything smelled like vanilla. Like home and the holiday season.

Then the phone rang. His mother picked it up, hiding her wine-drunk slurs as she answered. It was for him, of course, because it was you. “Feel like spending Christmas Eve getting drunk with me, Harrington?” you’d ask through the static of the receiver.

It’s like he blinked and he was in your childhood bedroom, splitting a bottle of your dad’s expensive liquor with you in your twin-sized bed.

The too-big house down the street was dark and empty, with you abandoned inside of it. The entire mansion was horribly clean — too clean — like no one actually lived there. The only Christmas decoration in the whole place was the tiny Christmas tree on your dresser. It basks the two of you in a golden hue while you laugh together in similar colors.

“So your parents just… left you here?” Steve presses, lying on his side at the edge of your mattress, propping his weight on his elbow.

You nod and take a swig from the glass bottle. Your lips shine with the amber liquid until you swipe your tongue against your buzzing bottom lip. “Holiday party at the Carmichael’s. No kids allowed,” you answer. You manage to smile as you say it — ‘cause you haven’t been a kid for a while — but it’s still slightly forced.

Steve can see right through it.

“Still,” he insists with a furrow to his brow as he takes the bottle from you. “That’s really shitty.”

“Well, my parents are basically the king and queen of being shitty, so…”

Steve scoffs an emotionless laugh and raises the whiskey to his lips. The thing glugs when he tips it back. He takes a small sip, just enough to coat his tongue, because he knows he’ll have to go back home eventually. He licks at his shining rosy lips, just to feel how numb they are.

“Your parents are shitty, and mine are… total fakes,” he concludes with a lopsided, sorrowful grin.

“Drunk enough to vent yet?” you tease, smiling down at him with your cheek tilted to your shoulder.

“No— I mean, there’s… there’s nothing to vent about, you know? They’re just, like, putting on happy faces for everyone at the party like they weren’t totally falling apart two days ago. Now it’s just like… nothing ever happened.”

You figure by “nothing to vent about,” he means that there’s a world of shit to vent about but that he doesn’t really feel like getting into any of it. You don’t blame him. He’s not the one who called his best friend on the very brink of falling apart, anyway.

“Is that what you were doing when I called?”

He nods, blinking slow and smiling soft. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“Bet you’re missing loads of fun right now, Harrington.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and passes the whiskey off to you. “Right now, my dad’s passed out in his Laz-E-Boy, and my mom’s watching the same Christmas movie over and over and over again.”

The visual makes you laugh.

Steve laughs because you are.

“Yeah. I mean, Nancy’s into it, I guess, but that’s just because she’s way too nice to—”

“Nancy’s there?” you blurt before you mean to, gaping with a shock you couldn’t hide if you wanted to. You thought he might’ve been as lonely as you were. You figured that’s why he dropped everything for you without thinking twice.

Your confusion makes his face screw up. He’s too oblivious to understand. “…Yeah?”

“You said you weren’t doing anything important!”

“It wasn’t important!” he exclaims, right before realizing how insensitive he sounds. He cowers, as though Nancy could somehow hear an entire block away. “Well— Not that she isn’t important— It’s just that—”

He stammers hopelessly. ‘Cause he doesn’t know how to say “you’re more important to me” without sounding like a total douchebag.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he settles on, suddenly shy about the whole thing. His eyes fall to your comforter because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. His fidgeting hands pluck at the tiny pills of cotton.

“Steve…” you whisper in an airy sigh because you don’t know what else to say.

He can’t tell if that’s good or bad, but his name sounds like honey spilling from your lips, anyway.

“Her brother’s there, though! And all his little shithead friends— so it isn’t like she’s totally alone,” he assures you in a single breath. You can’t tell if he’s saying it more for him or for you. “Plus, you said you were here by yourself, so I… I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” you tease despite the distinct warmth swirling in your chest.

Steve flashes you a crooked grin to hide his similarly hidden feelings. “Well, whoever said that has never met me. Obviously.”

“You should really go back home, though,” you tell him. It’s not like you want him to leave. You’d rather him be here all the time. You’d rather it always be Steve and never anybody else. But it can’t be like that. It can’t ever be that way.

“What? No!” Steve shouts with his face screwed up in offense. The lights from your Christmas tree leave harsh shadows on his chiseled features, making them that much sharper.

“Your girlfriend’s there, Steve. And all of your friends—”

“Not you, though. And you’re, like, the most important friend I have.”

“Steve,” you groan.

“I’m serious,” he insists, even though he’s laughing at your dramatics. “I’d much rather be here with you than pretending to be happy with everyone else.”

Your chest aches — a dull, hot, and empty ache. It’s like his words are a knife, and he’s just pierced your sternum with it. “You’re not happy?” you ask him in a fragile, broken whisper.

“I mean, I am, I’m just…” he trails off when he can’t find the words to say. He sighs and lays back completely, relaxing for the first time all night beside the warmth of you. His honey eyes concentrate on the shadows on your ceiling until he’s brave enough to speak.

“I don’t know… I love Nancy and everything— you know that. But… I never felt like I had to stop pretending around her, you know? It’s like I’m still trying to impress her. All the time. And with you, it’s just like…”

He loses the words again. Your relationship is much harder for him to describe. The way he feels about you can’t be put into words. He’s not sure that there’s any that even come close.

“I don’t know— It’s just easier,” he concludes with a heavy sigh. “Don’t read into that too much, alright? I’m just tipsy.”

He’s only had a couple sips of alcohol. He’s not even close to being tipsy. He’s content, at best, but you’re probably more to blame than the whiskey.

You know all of this, too, but decide not to press it too much.

“Noted,” you nod, huffing as you lie on your back beside him. His fuzzy Christmas sweater scratches you when it rubs against the skin of your shoulder. You can smell his deep, woodsy cologne and the hot chocolate on his breath. You shouldn’t get as lost in it as you do.

You wonder if he ever has the same problem with you — if the smell of your perfume, or your hair, or your strawberry lipgloss drives him crazy — or if it’s all in your head.

It might be better kept up there, either way.

Saying anything out loud might change things too much.

“But, you know, just for the record or whatever,” you start in a gentle whisper and with a teasing glint in your eye.

Steve’s already smiling when he turns to look at you. He falters slightly when he realizes how close you are — enough to feel your whiskey-coated breath fan against his chin. He doesn’t know why it makes his heart race.

“I’m glad I make it easier on you,” you confess, so suddenly soft, as your sparkling eyes flit between both of his. “‘Cause being with you is easier for me, too.”

Steve’s rosy lips curl into a quiet smile.

His chest sparkles with a foreign emotion, and he isn’t completely sure why. Your words feel almost like a proclamation of love, but maybe he shouldn’t read into any of it too much. Not how gentle your words sound or how you’re looking at him right now.

You’re just tipsy, after all.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: blurbcember

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lady-ace · 1 month ago

Text

Pokémon x Captain Marvel

One of the fondest memories Billy has of his parents is one he will never forget.

His dad, C.C and Marilyn, his mom, had come home with a surprise.

C.C, cheerfully: “Billy, Mary! Come downstairs!”

Marilyn: “We have a surprise for you two!”

As the two eight year old twins sped down the stairs (still taking care to not trip), they saw the surprise- one of each of his parents arms.

C.C: “Do you two know what these are?”

Mary: “Is it.. an egg?”

Billy, who absolutely LOVES pokémon: “Are those pokémon eggs??”

Marilyn, chuckling: “Yes, yes, you're both right, dearies. These are your very own pokémon eggs.”

Billy and Mary, both over the moon: “REALLY?”

C.C: “Really. Now, how about we heat them up?”

Mary: “Yes, please!”

/ / /

Two weeks later, the eggs finally hatched.

Billy: “Mom? Dad! Something's happening to the eggs!”

Mary: “They're shaking!”

C.C and Marilyn, who came to check in and saw both eggs shaking, and cracked: “Oh!”

C.C: “They're hatching!”

Marilyn: “Quick, grab the camera!”

As C.C grabs the camera, both eggs finally hatch, revealing two very small Shinx.

Marilyn: “Oh, they're perfect, don't you think so sweethearts?”

Mary and Billy, who are looking at the kits like they hanged the moon in the sky: “Yes!!”

C.C, laughing at their enthusiasm: “Way to go, champs. I just know you will make great partners.”

The Shinx mew, looking up at their trainers.

/ / /

A year later, Billy's life goes downhill.

His parents pass away in a unfortunate plane crash while on a work trip, and Mary has gone missing.

His uncle, Ebenezer, took all his inheritance money, and threw him and his Shinx, now named Tawny, to the streets, making them homeless.

This year is also the year when itty bitty Billy becomes the champion of magic, blessed by the gods.

When he shouted the name of the wizard who gave him his connection to his patrons, he became a superhero, someone powerful, kind and to be looked up to- Captain Marvel.

And that is not all- the divine lighting that strikes Billy to transform him can also split, hitting Tawny, and turning him from a small little Shinx who only knows Spark, to a big and mighty Raikou, one of the most famous superhero pokémons of all time.

/ / /

Billy is 10 and looking at the sunset from one of the highest buildings in Fawcett city with Tawny when out of nowhere, they hear something land behind them.

Tawny, who was almost sleeping at being pet, startles, getting up along with Marvel to look behind them.

..Only to see Batman, and his terrifying Noivern. One of, if not THE most skillfull pokémon and trainer duo, ever.

Batman: “Captain Marvel, right?”

Marvel, still processing on why Batman is in Fawcett, and in the same rooftop as him: “Oh.. yes, right, Mr. Batman sir.”

Batman: “I've come to let you know that you are formally invited to the Justice League. You don't need to make an decision now, but-”

Marvel, with no hesitation: “Yes.”

Batman: “..Understood, we're glad to have you.”

Marvel, with the biggest smile ever: “Thank you for the invite!”

/ / /

Some days later, and he meets with the people he'd idolized basically his whole life.

Superman and his trusty Dragonite, the Flash and his Jolteon, Wonder Woman and her Aegislash.. the list goes on!

One day, at the watchtower (wow, he really did come far, didn't he? This is a whole space station!) that Billy realized some things-

Tawny is the only legendary pokémon in the team so far. And, as everybody knows, legendary pokémon are both extremely rare and hard to catch. Funnily enough, he never thought of a cover story to how he met Tawny.

GA, who some minutes ago was training with his Decidueye: “Hey, Cap?”

Marvel, who was petting Tawny, the big cat purring loudly: “Huh? Yes?”

GA: “How did you catch Raikou? Aren't those rare, since only Ho-ohs can create them?”

Marvel, internally blue screening: “Oh! Um. Yes. So.. Tawny just.. he chose me! Yeah. Came right up to me and clicked his head against the poké ball. Isn't that right, Tawny?”

Tawny, looking at Billy with a look that screams 'Really? That's what you came up with?': “Rai.”

(By the way, when the twins reunite, i think Mary's Shinx would turn into a Zeraora.)

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #pokemon #shazam

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vlassk · 1 month ago

Text

Keeper

Stanford Pines x Reader

She/ her Reader

After learning of Stanleys past with Ford y/n, she decided she wouldn't be getting close to the twin. But she finds it difficult as Ford is just so damn cute.

Warning: age gap, angst, 18+ later on. Swearing. Pervy Ford(lmk if i missed any) not proofread as i no no wanna

You had lived in Gravity Falls for a couple of years now. Stumbling upon it, one winter road trip and falling in love with the beauty. As the years went on, you made good friends, including one neighbor. Stanford Pines was always one person you could talk to about the supernatural. Although he liked to pretend it wasn't real or not as big of a deal, he would always hear you out on your discovery in the town.

You being in your early 30s, the friendship was awkward at first. You saw the faces around town from friends and passer bys. But as time went on, people saw that it was simply platonic.

You spend most of your free time helping him around the house and grabbing food together. He told you about his time in prison and everything about his brother Stanley...

You would linger on his brother. Knowing how horrible he treated Stan and how he would never hear Stan out. Being the Better Brother. The days were good. You ran a local Inn a little out of town. The primary owner would travel most of the time.

One summer though The lnn that you ran shut down. And your manager had to let you go.

"Ughhh, what im i going to do! My place of living! My job!" You slam your head on the table, a loud thud being heard

"Kid, why dont you just ask your parents for some help? Im sure they will under -" Stan lifted up your head to place a small pillow under your face.

"No! Do you know how disappointed they will be?! YEARS of Tuistion for West Coast Tech just to run an Inn?! In a small town! Stan...stanford pines they would kill me and bring me back home..." You plead out looking up only to cry more and slam your head back down, the pillow guarding you.

" y/n you haven't told them?!" Stan yells out, only making you cry more. He paces the room and looks towards you. His frustration leaves when an idea pops into his head.

He sits next to you at the table

"Ya know.. my great niece and nephew are visiting once summer. Break starts...ill need someone to watch the store, maybe evenbuild some cool robot stuff for the shop! Ya know, wendy likes, so take her days off... you could even stay here in the storage closet..." He lays his hand on your back.

Your breathing slows as you look up at Stan.

"Really..." You wipe your tears away, going to hug the old man.

"But you gatta tell your parents at least"

"Fine..."

A couple of months had passed, and you were now a normal part of the household. Mable and Dipper always took you on adventures. You never realized how many crazy creatures were around. You would always come home and help stan though, building him add ons to his favorite chair, making animotronics for the shack. You know things were going wrong when the Fbi arrested Stanford. You remember looking at him as he was taken away. A sad look on your eyes.

" y/n, please. Its not true they dont know what they are talking about!"

You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say.

You looked over the kids, trying to prove his innocence when they found a code for the vending machine. Soos stood in the way of the machine, and mable threw glitter at him to make him move.

As you made your way into the basement, you could only think of the worst things.

What if he wasn't really Stanford. What if he was someone else. What if everything was a lie like they say. Are you even safe.

You hold onto Mables hand as Soos led the way. Once you get to the bottom, you see all the tech Mable goes on about how Stans is the same man and he loves us. All you can think about is all the tips you gave Stanford on how to fix or build different things. Dipper finds the 2 journals putting all 3 together to see the blueprints of something.

You only look at the basements, build, scan the area, hear Dipper Freak out, but your mind races, and you can't focus on his words. You look at the countdown reading 1 minute. Dipper and mable run into the next room. Turning keys. The strange Build glows. Before Dipper can press the shutdown button Stan runs in

"Dont touch that button!"

You turn to see Stan walking through the door, picking up his pace to you all.

"Dipper, just back away! Please dont press that button, you gatta, trust me!" Stan pleads. Slowing as he sees that Dippers hand is hovering over the red button.

"I should trust you. Why?!. After you stole that radioactive waste?! After you lied to us ALL summer?! I dont even know who you are!"

"I know all this is nuts, but i need that machine to stay on!" A beep is heard after Stans pleads. You start to float up with the rest as the triangle structure opens up. A space like portal opens

"STANFORD?!" You scream out. trying to reach for your friend.

"Dipper!" Mable screams, her foot caught on a wire holding her close to the button

"MABLE HURRY SHUT IT DOWN," Dipper screams out from across the room.

"Stan, why wouldn't you tell me?!" You cry out. Your hair floating around you.

"Kid...i couldn't. I didn't know how!"

As mable crawls her way down stan tries to float towards her, soos swooping in to tackle stan

"Soos, what are you doing?!i gave you an order." Stan struggles between Soos

"Sorry Mrs pines if that is your real name, but i have a new job now! Protecting these kids!" Soos tries to push him away from Mable.

"Soos, you idiot let me go!" Stan continues to reach out. You kept floating. trying to go back down.

Dipper goes to tackle stan as well. You find a way to get to mable holding her down as you both hover over the button.

As Stanley pleads with you both, you see mable tear up.

"Grunkle Stan,"Mable says between tears. "i don't even know, if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but"

"Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan breaks from Dipper and Soos.

The computer reads 20 seconds. A power surges through making you float away from mable. You hit the roof of the. Building,The others fly against the rooms walls.

" I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!"

"Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper cries out.

Mable looks up to see you, floating closer to the portal. You glanse back at stans pleading with your eyes. Stan gives you a nod.Mable watches as you close your eyes. Relaxing your body

"Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"

" He's lying! Shut it down NOW!"

"Mable please"

Ten Nine

"Grunkle stan"

Six five

"I trust you"

"MABEL, ARE YOU CRAZY?! WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

Mable lets go floating up to grab onto your leg. Pulling you closer and away from going through the portal.

One...

Screams are heard as a light blast blows up.

The light shooting through the whole town.

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a figure in front of the portal

"...stan..." You pull your head up from the ground

"What who is that?" Dipper stands

"The author of the journals..." Stanford also stands up.

You see, the man pulls off his goggles, revealing a face just like stans. He looks down at you. As you slowly sit yourself up. You're the closest one to him.

"My brother..." Stan sighs

"Is the the part where one of us faints.." mable giggles

"Ohoho, I am so on it, dude" soos faints on cue. Falling to the floor.

"Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!"

You watch as the man you're assuming Stanley walks up and punches Stanford.

"This was an insanely risky move – restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?!"

"Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?"

"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you DID, THIRTY YEARS AGO?!"

"What I did? Why, you ungrateful...

Stanley pins Stanfords arms. As they bicker, the man slams him on the ground. "

"Get off him, you asshole," you shove Stanley off Stanford. Mable stands next to you

"Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question – WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

"Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here... And some sort of large, hairless gopher? And... uh, " you see the mans eyes dart from top to bottom, then back to the top.

"A woman..."

"Heh heh. I get that a lot." You laugh at Soos. As he smiles back at you. You watch as Stan eyes you. Wondering what thoughts he could be having.

"They're your family, Poindexter. Shermie's grandkids." Stanford rolls his eyes.

"I-I have a niece and nephew? Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time."

He bends down to shake mables hand

"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!"

"Heha, I like this kid. She's weird."

"And you are?" He extends his hand to you. You ignore it and turn away.

"A friend of Stans..."

Stanley Huffs turning back around

"I-I can't believe it. You're the author of the journals!" Dipper fanboys

"You've read my journals?"

You don't listen to the conversation, but you help Stanford up. He thanks you as he stands. You see stanley eyeing you both out of the corner of your eyes. You dart your eyes towards him, making him look off.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mable sits back down on some rubble.

"Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley." The man walks over ignoring you to the next if his abilities

"Stanley..."dipper puts a finger to his chin

"But your name is stanford..." mable questions

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You leap forward at stan, soos catching you

"Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!"

"Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers – What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper exclaims.

"And what happened between you and your brother?" Maybe points at stan angered.

"Im hoping all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed."

You stop struggling against soos. Only to pause and give him a confused look.

"Stanf-...stanley why do you keep lying to me?!" You plead with the old man

"Kid listen... i did what i had to do"

"No. I won't accept that. Tell me why. Was everything about Him even true? " You point to the other man.

The now understood Stanley sighs. I looked up from his brows.

"Everything about HIM is correct. I just switched the names..." he shrugs. With another sigh, he leans against the wall, telling the tale of the two brothers.

As they both took turns telling their upbringing, you couldn't help but watch the twin. He would smile at the good times, and you would catch him watching you as well.

You had to admit he was handsome. You never saw Stan in a way, but Stanford was totally different even with the same face.

If you, too, matched eyes, you would simply roll them and look away. Even though you were curious about this handsome man.

"Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! 2000!" Mable triez to push the men together.

"Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. "

"I already know all this..." You walk off sitting in the room where the portal once was. You could still hear the conversation. Noting again at the Dream school Stanford wanted to go to... but couldn't. You burrowed your face in your legs. Conflicted, you never thought you'd meet him. You were so angry at all the things he did to your friend. But knowing everything and knowing he's alive. Could you be nicer to him?

You hear a Scream and turn to look at the room, dipper fan boys over the journals.

"just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."

"I began to keep a journal..."

Dipper screams again. You walk into the room staring at the child. He looks up at you and calms himself down.

"Just going to ignore that..."

He goes on you decide to sit back in the room with the others.

As they retell the fight, you can't help but stare at Stanford. Aggravated at every word he says.

He pauses for a moment. Staring just as intensely

"What is your problem?" Stanford exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"You... you are my problem. you're dangerous. " he looks shocked at your words. And leans back a bit, not knowing what to say.The story finishes as the agents from upstairs get closer. Stanford makes a plan. Telling everyone to stay put as he travels upstairs.

Mable hears the agents leave and runs upstairs with your protest

"Great-uncle Stanford, that was amazing!"

"Let's not go crazy; it was serviceable."

"Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford."

You stand on the porch. Watching the kids talk to Ford. You catch glimses of him looking at you. Your heart beats faster when he does. Is this anger? You're not nervous..are you?Stan pushes the kids off to bed. He turns to look at you. He mouths out 'stay'. You fix your posture, waiting to wave the kids off while they go inside. Saying a goodbye to Soos and moving towards Stan.

You punch Stans arm

"Ouch why me?!"

"That's for lying to me, you big idiot! Dont do that again!"You furrow your eyebrows. Stan frowns, rubbing his arm. You go in for a hug. Letting go just as fast and looking at Ford.

"So...who are you agai-" you cut him off by slapping him. Both stan and fords face in shock.

" That's for building such a STUPID machine... and hurting my friend!"

Stan begins to laugh. Resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Who even are you?!" The man shouts, angerly walking towards the house. The sun is going down.

" haha shes a keeper! Now Y/n go to bed. I gatta catch up with this man..."

"What's the point of me staying behind?"You shrug your shoulders. Pushing the old man slightly a small okay left your lips.

"No hard feelings, old man?" You smile and walk away, turning around to point finger guns at both men, going into the house and upstairs to your room.

"Old man? Rude, " Ford says under his breath

The two men head in as well. I'm sitting at the table to talk. Catching up on the little things

"Nothing so bad, ya know... people come and go...?"

"Hmm...and that women you keep around?"

"Huh? Women? Haha, that's Y/n. She's a good friend.."

"Just friend?"

"Of course! She's a good kid. Takes care of Dipper and Mable and always makes great adjustments to her past works. " Stan leans back in his chair, talking about you normally

"Past works? What does that even mean" Ford questions.

"Ah, she's a graduate of West Coast tech... some phds in some stuff i dont really pay attention. But she makes awesome stuff. Let me tell ya, " Stan points to a few things you've improved or added.

"Wait, she went to WCT?? Wait, why is she here with you?" Ford laughs still in shock of your success.

"She's been a friend of mine for a while now. She used to work at an Inn that closed down, so i gave her a place to work and sleep. Listen, i felt bad leaving her alone. She needed someone"

"Interesting... " fords mind goes off. Picturing you again. How angry you looked at him, the disappointment when you would stare. But how beautiful you are. How every time you looked at him with hate or pity, all he could see was the opposite.

"I know that look,"Stan leans forward

"What look?" Ford looks away at anything but his brother.

"That look... you stay away from her..." stans eyebrows furrow. His fist on the table

"I dont even know what you're talking about." Ford looks away again, and this finds his head resting on his hand.

"Stay. Away." Stanley gets up.

"But... I'm happy you're home," he holds his hand out. Ford takes it, and they get up to go to bed. Stopping by the bathroom for one last conversation, you can't help but too listen in on.

#fanfic #x reader #gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #pines twins

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thepersonperson · 5 months ago

Text

Sukuna's Loneliness Part 1

(Thoughts on Sukuna's Dehumanization as of JJK 261.)

Part 2

Some things to keep in mind...

1) This analysis deals with topics of ableism, racism, and discrimination. (Very brief suicidal ideation mention.)

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans because of their accessibility.

3) There are a lot of links so you know I'm not making stuff up. The sources are both formal and informal. Please do research on some of the discussed topics to gain a better understanding of them.

(Click pictures for captions/citations.)

The Name Ryomen Sukuna

Before we start this needs to be made clear. Ryomen Sukuna is not a first and last name. Ryomen is a title. Sukuna is a name.

Ryomen uses the kanji 両面 which can be translated as "two-faced".

Sukuna uses the kanji 宿儺 which can be translated as "specter". Individually the kanji can be read as "lodging, inn" (宿, suku) and "exorcism" (儺, na).

Two-faced specter is not a nice name to put it lightly. It's such a mean spirited name that the JP fanbase suspects he was called something else before becoming The Disgraced One.

Normally I would assume his parents did not name him this, however, Sukuna himself had this to say about his birth.

In the original Japanese, Sukuna calls himself 忌み子 (Imigo) which can be translated as "Abominable Child", "Unwanted Child", or "Shunned Child." None of these translations in my opinion get across how severe Imigo is. It's closer to meaning "child who should've never been born". Like the child's very existence is an affront to god. (If you play Elden Ring the Omen are called Imigo in Japanese for this reason.)

You combine this fact with his name and it starts to paint a nasty picture. Sukuna straight up may not have a last name in part from what is implied to be disownment from birth.

Sukuna's Trauma

(Even if he won't acknowledge it as something that has deeply affected him.)

As a Basketball American (aka one of those people with a unique skeletal structure and muscles as Mr. Gojo Satoru would say), I consider myself a professional experiencer of discrimination. This means when a character has likely experienced something similar to me, I can sniff it out like a bloodhound. Though what Sukuna experiences is much closer to ableism than racism. (Discrimination across the board is pretty similar in a lot of ways you know.)

Sukuna is disabled—not as in he lacks an able body (my goodness he is too ablebodied), but as society is not built with any consideration for him. He’s a massive conjoined twin with 4 eyes and 4 arms and 2 mouths. If you know anything about being tall in Japan, it's that it’s a nightmare. Doorways, showers, bathrooms, and buildings are built for small people which leads to the very infrastructure causing problems for anyone big. But Sukuna’s size is just the start of those kinds of problems. He canonically wears women’s kimonos to accommodate his arms since they have larger sleeves. He often goes shirtless or wears a shawl simply because clothing isn’t made for him.

If you’ve known or read anything by people with mobility issues or missing limbs, a major complaint is clothing. For example someone with a missing leg can either pay for expensive customized pants, or they can purchase regular pants and tie off the extra pant leg. They can have trouble buying one shoe since they almost always come in pairs. (To rectify this sometimes they find a mirror twin called a Sole Mate who they share the extra shoe with.)

Now if I’ve learned anything from people with mobility issues, it’s that ablebodied people are really fudging annoying and rude. They will grab mobility aids unprompted and even move people around in wheelchairs without permission. In this treatment, the ablebodied dehumanize the disabled and treat them like objects in their way.

Sukuna also experiences objectification in a similar manner. People see him as an obstacle to conquer, a means to test their strength, a helpless thing that needs curing, a test subject to study, and a symbol for their own use. All of these things are extremely dehumanizing and things disabled people may have to deal with.

We’ve got Yuji and co seeing him as a curse to exorcize.

Kashimo and others using Sukuna to test their strength.

Yorozu seeing Sukuna’s lack of interest in romantic/sexual love as a thing to be cured. (Your honor, he is aroace.)

Kenjaku using Sukuna as a test subject and insurance for The Plan.

Heian era society revering him as a god to use him in rituals for their benefit.

The last example is a very interesting form of discrimination. If you aren’t familiar with the term, there is one called benevolent prejudice. This is when discriminatory beliefs are flattering instead of malicious. (Examples: Black people are athletic, Asian people are smart, etc.)

Benevolent prejudice still results in negative outcomes for the group affected, but to me personally, some of them are kind of hilarious in isolation. Here are some of my favorites:

I’m pretty sure this is why Gojo apologizes so readily to Miguel and without resistance. He realizes “oh crap I’m doing to Miguel what everyone does to me”.

And yes this belief had a negative outcome for Miguel—it’s likely the reason Gojo beat him so hard compared to other characters in the JJK 0 movie. (Remember Gege has direct involvement in the anime.) This is canonically a racially motivated beatdown, trauma response from the black ropes mimicking Toji notwithstanding.

On the ableism side of things this benevolent prejudice can manifest as turning people with deformities or atypical features into objects for worship, fetishization, or sacrifice.

As an aside, I suspect Uraume’s gender is ambiguous because they’re intersex. And boy howdy do intersex people experience dehumanization as objects of worship (fetishization and religious symbols) or as a problem that needs to be corrected (forced surgical procedures/mutilation and erasure). This, in my opinion, might be the reason Sukuna likes them more than anyone else. Uraume may not fully understand the isolation of strength, but they do get the dehumanizing way in which society treats them both.

My point here is that Sukuna experiences regular prejudice and the benevolent type. All of which are dehumanizing from every single angle, leaving him in a state of near constant objectification. (Uraume puts Sukuna on a pedestal as their master which is emotionally isolating but they still see him as an individual on his own merits.)

What constant systemic discrimination does to a motherfudger...

So now that we've established how Sukuna's dehumanization happened, I can rant about how this is probably a major reason behind his disconnect from his humanity and a source of his loneliness.

Gege has stated that Sukuna and other people don’t really know how to categorize his personhood. He's so strong he's more like a natural disaster than anything else.

Sukuna says things like this about himself.

"If I was a cursed spirit…"

"...that's the sort of human I was."

He doesn’t see himself as a human or a curse. At one point he did consider himself human but stopped. He sees himself as this third thing which is highly likely to be a “living creature” as Gojo would put it.

Gojo also experienced benevolent prejudice that lead to his dehumanization and subsequent objectification (thanks JJK 261 for making me realize it was much worse than I assumed). And from birth too. I think this is why they’re able to connect so well during their fight. Especially since this prejudice leads to them becoming sinks for everyone's burdens while being scorned in the same breath. (It's like how people adore "my kind's" athletic/manual labor abilities but then don't want us in their neighborhoods.) The world isn't made for them but it's going to exploit the very thing it hates them for.

The difference between those two is probably the stares of disgust and day to day inconveniences from the extra parts. Gojo can effectively blend in with other humans if he really tries. Sukuna cannot. (Maybe that’s why he says this too.)

Sukuna to me, feels like a manifestation of this rage against constant systemic discrimination. You look at him funny? He kills you. You treat him like a thing that serves you? He kills you.

I know I'm projecting but hear me out!

I don't think Sukuna was aggressively abused by others for his appearance to get to this point by the way. It's more of a death by 1,000 cuts scenario. Someone crossing the street to avoid you, a flash of revulsion when they look at you, backhanded compliments, name-calling in whispers, gentle reminders you don't belong in infrastructure and accessibility to resources. On their own they feel like paper cuts, but if you experience them constantly without time to recover, one day you look down and realize there's a massive rotting gash.

Thankfully I have friends and spaces where I can exist without being subject to discrimination. I can treat these wounds and keep going relatively ok. When I was a child, I didn't have a proper outlet for that and it ate me alive. I flip flopped between wanting to magically wake up fully white or disappearing entirely and wanting everything to explode. Sometimes I wanted all of these thing at the same time. These old wounds reopen on occasion but I know how to deal with that now.

In Sukuna's behavior and attitude, I see that kind of hurt. And his coping strategy appears to be making everything explode since violence is all he knows. Maybe cannibalism wasn't the healthiest way to deal with this but you know it's Jujutsu Kaisen.

Speaking of cannibalism, the definition of a cannibal is an individual that eats members of their own species. Sukuna is regarded as a non-human by everyone around him in every instance except when he is called a cannibal. He’s not human enough to be a part of society but just human enough to be a cannibal. His status as a human changes in what makes it easiest to disregard him as an individual worthy of respect or consideration. (Think of how conservatives misgender gender non-conforming cis people and then turn around and misgender trans people for hypocritical reasons.)

Sukuna’s acknowledgement of both Jogo and Gojo is bittersweet with this lens. Jogo is a curse fighting on behalf of curses’ humanity. He wants curses to live as humans after being born lowly and unwanted in a world that wants him erased. Gojo is a human forced into godhood by circumstances he couldn’t control. He’s someone who became isolated and rejected by others until he stopped seeing himself as a human. Sukuna has lived both of these experiences and connects with them in a way no one else can.

Unfortunately, because Sukuna only knows how to love through violence, he kills them. (Great job, Sukuna, you did this to yourself. You could've had friends.)

I also suspect this is why Sukuna believes this.

This type of society is one in which Sukuna can exist. He can relentlessly pursue the strength through which he builds his self-esteem and be acknowledged as something. However, that is still isolating. And Sukuna is a human, which means he’s a social creature that needs companionship. (Not necessarily romantic or sexual mind you.)

I find Sukuna’s vague suicidal ideation and refusal to die extremely relatable for all these reasons. Much like Gojo, he seems to be convinced the world will never treat him the way he wants to be treated and wants out.

There’s also something to be said about the unique loneliness aromantic and asexual people experience from wanting deep and fulfilling relationships without romance or sex in a world that only values relationships with both of those things.

So why is Sukuna like that?

Despite knowing how much it sucks to be dehumanized, Sukuna still participates in dehumanization himself, referring to humans as insects/animals or things for him to play with.

And in a Kenjaku parallel, food for him to enjoy as well.

I predict this attitude he has towards humans is the direct result of his dehumanization and objectification for his appearance and strength. It’s all one big unhealthy coping mechanism.

I think this is why Yuji ideologically pisses him off so much. Imagine truly believing all this isolation and suffering for innate characteristics made you stronger, only to find someone who experienced none of that starts rising to your level and shatters your entire world view.

Trauma isn’t something that makes people stronger, but Sukuna likely believes it does as a cope. In my last analysis I called Gojo a sopping-wet pathetic cat who pretends everything is ok. Sukuna is no different if you ask me.

#cactus yaps #Not me realizing I stopped seeing myself as human because of some silly anime boys.#Not Gojo and Sukuna being my faves because of my race related dehumanization. My queerness made the non-human status fun though.#Stay tuned for Part 2 of me bullying Sukuna. He's even more pathetic than I'm letting on and I will get there eventually.#My citations are all over the place but they're important. Other people's experiences are important.#That person who called Sukuna and Gojo twin flames was right.#ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers

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