#and the worst part is I can’t even wish it didn’t happen

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[marvelsmylife]

Pleasing your high lord

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Plot: after demanding Azriel to leave your room, Rhysand decides to have some fun with you while Feyre’s away visiting Vivian in the winter court.

a/n This is part two of my The Inner Circles Whore series. I know you guys already know what's going to happen between Azriel and the reader, but please comment below your theories. The next part will be about Cassian.

Inner Circles Whore Masterlist

Requests are open

Rhysand doesn’t typically lose his cool with the members of his inner circle. He actually sees himself as a level-headed male. That changes though when he’s deprived of sex for a prolonged period. 

Rhysand was on edge ever since Feyre decided to go to the winter court to visit Vivian with Mor. Since she wasn’t around, Rhysand decided he was going to pay you a visit so you could help him relax. The only problem was that Azriel was in your room any time he tried to pay you a visit.

Rhysand tried to be understanding at first. He knew it‘s been centuries since Azriel showed interest towards a female other than Mor, but he thought it was ridiculous that he was spending all of his free time in your room. He got so irritated by Azriel's constant presence in your room that he had to order Azriel out of the room, or else he would ban him from seeing you. Azriel knew Rhysand wasn't lying, so he left in a huff but promised he would return as soon as Rhysand was done.

The moment he was out the door, Rhysand stripped you both down and laid down on your bed with you settled between his legs. “He’s acting as if he was your mate,” Rhysand joked; his rough hands were glued to your hair, and watched as you sucked on his cock.

You hummed at Rhysand’s comment: “What can I say. I’m just that good,” you winked at your high lord.

“Yes, you are,” Rhysand agreed, thrusting up so you would take more of his cock in your mouth. “Gods, I’ve missed having your mouth around my cock. It’s been what? Four months?” Rhysand added on.

No one in the inner circle knew you were involved with Feyre and Rhysand on and off for the past three years. What was meant to be a one-night stand turned into a reoccurring situation. Feyre grew attached to you over time and begged Rhysand to have you move in with them. She even pitched the idea that you were hired to help them release some stress because that’s what you did to them; you helped them relax and helped them release some stress.

While Rhysand was apprehensive about you moving in because he didn’t want their friends to question them on how they knew you. Rhysand finally agreed to Feyre’s wishes and moved you in as soon as you could.

What they didn’t expect was for Azriel to get attached to you. Feyre would complain to Rhysand that Azriel was stealing you away. Rhysand had to remind her about your new role within their inner circle, and she had to share you. “I honestly can’t remember,” you replied honestly: “But I’ve missed you too. Azriel’s is cock is-”

“Don’t ever say another male's name or mention their cock while mine’s inside your mouth,” Rhysand’s growled. He grabbed your head and started to thrust roughly into your mouth. Rhysand felt himself getting turned on even more at the sound of you choking on his cock.

Rhysand continued his actions until you tapped his thigh to let him know it was getting too much for you. “Shit. I’m sorry y/n.” Rhysand apologized, a guilty expression on his face when he noticed tears running down your face: “I didn’t mean to be that rough.”

You found yourself laughing at Rhysand’s apology: “It’s ok. It’s just been a while since a male has been rough with me while I blow them.”

Jealousy started to spread throughout Rhysand at the thought of another male being rough with you. You sensed it, so you added: “I’m talking about you.” You started laughing again: “That night, Feyre requested to watch us and instructed you to do your worst to me. My throat was sore for a month.”

Memories from that night flooded Rhysand’s mind. He had fucked you in every position Feyre ordered and ended with all three of you tangled in your sheets. “How’s Feyre doing, by the way?” you asked while you sank onto his cock and started to ride him, “I haven’t had time to talk to her one on one since I moved in?”

“Cranky because she hasn’t been able to see you. She’s close to murdering Azriel because he’s spending so much time with you. So I suggest you talk to him before she follows through with murdering him.” Rhysand tried to play it off as a joke, but he had no doubt in his mind that Feyre would in fact, murder Azriel. You also knew Feyre would follow through with murdering Azriel, so you made a mental note to talk with Azriel.

You started riding Rhysand’s cock slower than you would normally do just to get a rise out of him, and it worked. The next thing you know, Rhysand had you on your back, with your hands pinned above your head while he thrusts into you relentlessly. “Slow down, I thought you wanted to go slow,” you tried to break out of Rhysand’s grasp, but he only held on tighter.

“No,” Rhysand huffed: “I’ve been on edge because I haven’t fucked either you or Feyre and days.”

All you could do was whimper out an ok at Rhysand’s explanation. You knew he needed this, so you allowed him to do whatever he wanted with your body. 

And boy, did he.

For the next several hours, Rhysand fucked you against every piece of furniture in your room. With you ultimately ending up on your bed. A tiny part of you felt like he was trying to get rid of Azriel’s scent from your room.

Your suspicion was confirmed when Rhysand panted: “Please let me know Azriel’s reaction when he smells what occurred here. I bet you that he’s going to throw a tantrum.”

“You’re such a dick,” you playfully shoved Rhysand off you and watched as he started getting dressed.

“I know I am, but that’s also what you love about me,” Rhysand teases: “I’ll be back tomorrow. Ok?” Rhysand leaned in and kissed you.

“If Azriel lets you,” you laughed but stopped when Rhysand wasn’t laughing: “Geez, I was kidding. Lighten up, Mr. high lord.”

Rhysand just shook his head: “I was being serious earlier. I don’t like how possessive Azriel is with you. Feyre doesn’t like it either,” Rhysand pressed his forehead against yours: “Let us know if he gets too much. We’ll handle it for you.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you reassured Rhysand and kissed him before he made his way to your bedroom door.

When he opened the door, he spotted Azriel standing against the wall: “Were you here the entire time?”

Azriel didn’t reply. Instead, he pushed past Rhysand and entered your room: “Feyre is not going to like this,” Rhysand shook his head and returned to his own room.

@lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @golden-canyon @nayaniasworld @sleepylunarwolf @paankhaleyaar

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[wolfmoonmusic]

hiiii!!! can u do a valentine’s day angsty post where james and y/n are in a secret relationship because she’s a hufflepuff but he flirts with lily and gets her flowers on valentines so he doesn’t cause suspicion u get upset and cry and break up with him and he tries to win u back but remus gets u flowers and kinda helps u get over james??🤭🤭🤭 if u don’t wanna do this it’s totally okay!! love ur work<3

Secrecy:

A/N: This was so painful to write. But, it was also super fun.

Summary: You love James Potter and would do anything for him, including keeping your relationship an absolute secret. However, he may not feel the same.

Pairing: James Potter x Hufflepuff!reader, Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!reader

w/c: 3600+

Masterlist

Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <3

The room of requirements had a lot of uses.

“Jamie, stop it!” you giggled as your boyfriend peppered your face with kisses. He pulled away grinning, “What? I’ve missed you!” 

You shook your head, a sad smile taking over the grin you’d had before. “You wouldn’t have to miss me, if people knew about us,” you said, your hands fixing his hair, and adjusting his glasses. “If at least your friends knew,” you added, now fixing your own robes.

James closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “We’ve talked about this n/n,” he whined, cupping your face. His eyes searched yours, “I-I’ve told you, they can’t know.”

You shook your head, “You’ve never told me why, James.” You pulled his hands away from your face, bending down to pick up your bag, the next period would start soon. You tried to ignore how your chest tightened.

When James didn’t respond, bending down to pick his own bag up, you sighed. Everytime over the past few months that you’d had this conversation, it ended the same way. Sometimes, you wondered, if he was embarrassed of you, but it made no sense, because all of his friends loved hanging out with you.

Or so you thought. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

“I-I just need you to trust me,” he said softly, adjusting his bag straps. You just stared at him blankly. It was scary how used to this you were by now. 

“Right,” you whispered, before stepping past him and leaving.

He didn’t follow you. He never did.

When James had first told you he liked you, he’d also mentioned a need to keep it private. You’d wholeheartedly agreed at first, maybe he just didn’t want his friends all over the two of you. However, that didn’t make sense either. Sirius had openly teased the both of you on some occasions, when James had one too many drinks, and got a little too touchy around you. 

Of course, it happened only when he was drunk.

As days turned into weeks, you started wondering if he ever planned on telling at least his friends. He never got too close to you whenever you were around them. In fact, he’d barely even look at you. It was Remus who was always around you, talking and making you laugh.

If James hadn’t asked you out first, Remus might’ve been the one you were with.

He always made you feel wanted. In a way James never had. 

The worst part was that Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. And James hadn’t even brought it up. Even when you’d asked him, he’d just shrugged and said “I’ll come up with something.”

You definitely didn’t miss the way his friends kept pushing him towards Lily Evans. Or how he seemed to be subtly flirting with her, every time you looked at him when you were in public.

At first you would cry in your dorm room, unable to tell anyone about how you felt, because no matter how much you hated it, you still felt obliged to keep it a secret. Over time, you learnt to shrug it off, allowing the pain to grow in your chest. You didn’t know what it was like to go through a day without that crushing sensation.

Sometimes you wished you weren’t that nice. 

As you entered class, you weren’t expecting Remus to excitedly wave you over, Sirius turning away from his friend to smile at you as well.

You couldn’t even avoid them, it’d seem suspicious. You plastered on a fake smile, making your way over to the boys.

“Hey Y/N,” they both chorused. 

“Hello,” you responded, settling down next to Remus. He held out a chocolate in the palm of his hand, and you gladly accepted, muttering a simple thanks.

This is what it was like to be around Remus. It wasn’t the constant fear of someone finding out. It didn’t come with the thoughts swarming in your head.

Your eyes found James walking into class, hesitating, for just a moment when he saw you, before his face returned to normal and he took a seat beside Sirius.

Of course, he didn’t give you a second glance.

Class started, causing you to shift your focus on your professor. You hated how routine it had all become. 

How unaffected you were.

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

As you were walking back to your dorm, you felt someone grab your hand, pulling you behind a wall. 

“Y/N, don’t be mad,” James whispered. You stared at him blankly, before sighing softly. “How long?” you asked, staring directly into his eyes, hoping that you could decipher what was going on. He gulped, looking away for a minute, before his eyes landed on you again. “I-I don’t know,” he said, immediately looking down at his shoes.

You tried to blink away the gathering tears, nodding. “Look, James, I like being your girlfriend. But, I hate being your secret,” you said. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, full of panic. “You’re not my secret,” he said firmly, his eyes filled with confidence. You almost believed him.

Almost.

You scoffed. “Right because this,” you said, gesturing to your hiding spot, “doesn’t indicate that you’re hiding me.”

“No, no I-” he sighed frustratedly, a hand running through his hair. 

“I’ll see you in the Gryffindor common room in the evening. I’m studying with Remus. You,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “can ignore me as usual.”

With that, you left, unable to hold the onslaught of tears any longer. As the hot tears streamed down your face, you started running, picking up more speed as the feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t care that people were staring. You didn’t care that you could get into trouble. You just needed to get away.

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

You didn’t go to class. You didn’t go to lunch. You sat in your room all day pondering your situation. It hurt you to think about it. You’d been so happy in the beginning, an amazing boyfriend, good friends, you had it all. But slowly, your sudden disappearances had increased, and you couldn’t explain it to your friends. You’d even missed your roommate's cake cutting on her birthday because you’d run off to find James.

They barely even talked to you now.

You sniffled, hearing voices as your roommates piled in, barely acknowledging you. You watched as they walked right past you, only one of them, Rose, the one who’s birthday you missed, paused to give you a sad smile, before joining the others in their discussion.

You couldn’t handle the pain anymore. It enveloped you completely, the numbness taking over. You quietly got up, leaving the room. Anywhere was better than here. 

As you got to your common room, you realized all the classes were over for the day. Your eyes scanned the room, as you tried to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be with Remus now. You didn’t want to go. James would be there.

But, you’d promised Remus yesterday. 

You sighed, deciding you had to go, leaving the common room, with no one to stop you.

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

The second you entered the common room, Remus called you over. Unfortunately, he was sitting with his friends. Including your boyfriend.

You walked over, ignoring the way James watched you, eyes trained on Remus. “Hi Remmy,” you said softly, taking a seat next to him. “Hello love. Are you alright? You weren’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts today,” he asked, brows furrowed together in concern. 

Did James even realize?

You nodded quietly, “Just needed to get away from everything for a while y’know?” 

Remus nodded, understanding taking over his features. 

“You don’t have your books,” Sirius pointed out.

You froze, you’d been so worked up that you hadn’t even realized.

“I - uh”

“ ‘S alright love, we can share,” Remus interrupted, passing his book over to you.

You smiled gratefully, “Thanks Moony.”

You knew James was watching you, but you didn’t look at him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. It hurt too much.

“Oh! I heard someone’s secret relationship was found out!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed.

You couldn’t process what he’d just said. Did he - did he know?

“Who?” you heard James ask. Your eyes snapped to him, but he was looking at Sirius, face seeming amused.

Was he not worried? Or did he not care? Or…was he so sure that it wasn’t about you two?

However Sirius just shrugged, “Don’t know, don’t care,” he pointed at the three of you, “however I think whoever it was is an absolute coward.”

Remus looked up from his book, “Coward?”

Sirius hummed in response. “You like someone enough to date them, why would you keep it quiet?” he asked, now looking at you, “If you’re not embarrassed or if it’s not forbidden love or something right n/n?” You were caught off guard by the question. 

The way he looked at you made you feel as if he knew more than he was letting on. 

“I uh-. Yeah, yeah, why would you?” you asked in response, looking at James. At this point, you didn’t care if someone suspected something. You wanted an answer.

James’s eyes widened in shock. “I-” 

The three of you were looking at him now. “You shouldn’t. Not if you care about the person enough,” he muttered, looking at everyone but you.

You didn’t stop the tears from flowing. “I- I have to go,” you whispered, before running out. 

Did he not care enough then? If that was just a response, framed to keep people from guessing, how far was he willing to go to keep this a secret?

You ran all the way to your dorm room, ignoring the way your roommates were looking at you with concern, before jumping on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow, and sobbing. 

None of them came to ask you what was wrong. Of course they didn’t. You hadn’t been there for them, constantly putting James first. 

The James that always seemed to put you last.

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

You woke up in the morning, eyes puffy and head hurting. You hadn’t even changed into your pajamas. You groaned, sitting up slowly, eyes closed, as the events of the day before, flooded into your head.

“Hi.”

You opened your eyes, finding Rose sitting on your bed, a soft smile on her face.

“Hi?” you said, shocked that she was even talking to you. 

“You came in, a mess last night,” she laughed lightly.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment . She moved closer to you, placing a hand on your knee. “What’s going on?” she asked, voice filled with concern. 

You were surprised that she’d even asked. “I missed your birthday?” you asked in response, unable to form an actual sentence.

She laughed again, “I know you Y/N. You wouldn’t have done that unless something was going on.”

You felt your eyes water again. “You really want to know?” you asked, your voice shaking. She simply nodded, waiting for you to continue.

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her, but as the pain in your chest continued to grow with every second, you realized you needed to let it out.

So you did.

You told her everything. From the very beginning, to the conversation you’d had yesterday.

The second you’d finished, she engulfed you in a hug. “Oh n/n, you don’t deserve that,” she said, pulling away.

“But I mean, what I don't get is, why?” you whispered.

“I don’t know love, but you have to tell him,” she said sternly.

“Tell him what?” you asked, afraid of what she was going to say.

“That if he wants to stay with you, he should be willing to be open about it. Not PDA level but you know what I mean,” she said, taking your hands in hers.

You nodded. She was right. Absolutely right.

You had to tell him now. Why not? It was Valentine’s? It was perfect.

“I’ll tell him right now,” you said, getting off the bed.

Rose gripped your hand. “Not like this you’re not,” she told you, looking you up and down.

You laughed in embarrassment, “Right.”

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

Rose had helped you get ready, even helping you out with a bit of makeup. 

So now, as you sped across the halls, you were feeling confident. You were sure you mattered to him, so you didn’t worry too much about the conversation you were about to have. You were feeling good.

But then you heard the name Potter coming out of a certain redhead’s mouth. You came to a halt, turning to look at the scene behind you.

Lily Evans was holding a bouquet in her hands, blushing profusely. 

“I can’t believe he actually knows what flowers you like!” her friend exclaimed.

Lily nodded, “He might be a prick sometimes, but he really is good at this.”

Your heart dropped.

It can’t be.

You walked over to her clearing your throat. “Um, Lily?” you called, causing the girl to turn to you.

“Oh hey Y/N!” she smiled warmly. You returned it with a weak smile of your own, “I was just wondering,” you said shakily, pointing to the flowers, “who gave you those?” 

She grinned, “James Potter. As thick headed as he is, he’s also a sweetheart.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach, the color draining from your face. 

“You alright?” she asked, noticing the way your hands were shaking.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah of course. Have a nice day,” you said, quickly turning around and bolting. 

You had someone to go meet.

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

“James!” you yelled, barging into the Gryffindor common room. Sirius, Peter and Remus, and James all turned to look at you. Luckily there was no one else there.

Though, to be honest, you wouldn’t have cared.

You were tired of hiding.

“You gave Lily flowers?” you said, walking up to your boyfriend. 

He stood up, eyes wide. 

“Of course he did! Are you oblivious to how he’s head over heels for her?” Sirius interjected, confused as to why you were so angry.

You ignored him, eyes trained on your boyfriend.

“I-”

“Well? Did you? Or is she lying to me?” you asked, your eyes watering.

“Y/N”

“I swear to god James if you try to hide this even now, I will not hesitate to slap you.”

You could see how panicked James was. But you didn’t care. You were hurt beyond repair.

He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“I did,” he whispered.

Hot tears streamed down your face.

“But I swear,” he said, opening his eyes, “ I only did it to keep people off of us.” He tried to reach for your hand, but you pushed him away.

“Why?” you sobbed. Your chest felt like it was being crushed. Your heart, breaking into tinier pieces by the minute.

James huffed. “Because,” he started throwing his hands up in the air, “Because you’re a Hufflepuff!” he yelled.

You staggered back, the shock of the revelation came like a blow.

“What?” you whispered.

“Mate, what’s going on?” Remus asked, walking over to stand next to you.

James just shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Love,” Remus turned to you, a gentle hand on your shoulder, “what’s going on?” he asked.

Sirius stepped forward, “James fucked up, that’s what’s going on,” he supplied.

You and James looked at him in shock.

“I saw you both kissing a few days back,” he explained. “It completely threw me off, because Prongs here,” he threw an arm around James’s shoulder, “has been head over heels for Evans since first year.”

First year?

“However, he did tell us about catching feelings for you last year, though we thought it subsided because he never mentioned it again. Of course, I found out only recently that he didn’t mention it, because he was too up in his head about the whole ‘Gryffindor being a superior house’ thing,” Sirius said, making air quotes. You stared at James, not knowing how to process the information being dealt out.

“Then I saw you both snogging each other before Charms one day, and decided to bring it up. James however said you were just friends. But he wouldn’t shut up about how in love he was with Evans. Meaning one of two things,” Sirius said, moving away from James, holding out both his hands.

“One,” he said, lifting his left hand up, “James was using you to get the attention he wanted because Lily wasn’t paying him regard,” James opened his mouth to say something but Sirius cut him off, “but, James isn’t a prick. He wouldn’t do that.” Sirius said, lowering his hand. “Which could only mean,” he lifted his right hand now, “that James did in fact like you, but he couldn’t give up completely on Lily, and,” he paused, pointing to James, “he feels too superior about his house, as always.”

You blinked multiple times, trying to understand what Sirius had just said. 

He’d known yesterday. And he’d been trying to warn you.

“Y/N-” James started.

“Don’t. Don’t James. Don’t open your mouth and try to explain. You’ll only make it worse,” you seethed. Your hurt had completely transformed into anger.

“We’re done. Go on and snog Lily in front of everyone, yeah? She’s in Gryffindor,” you glared at him, before storming out of the common room, ignoring his protests.

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

You’d spent the entire day in your room. Thinking, crying, and thinking some more. You’d told Rose, and then also told her you needed some alone time.

She’d been doing a great job at keeping everyone away.

Until now that is.

You heard a soft knock on your dorm room door.

“Please, not now,” you called out, hoping the person would go away.

“I uh- It’s me, Remus,” a soft, uncertain, voice called back.

Your eyes widened and you quickly got off the bed, opening the door to your visitor.

“Remus?” you asked, surprised.

He smiled at you warmly. “Hello love, may I come in?” he asked. You nodded, stepping aside to let him. You closed the door again, watching as he gently placed his bag on the floor before sitting on your bed.

“I had to bribe Rose with 2 weeks of free chocolates,” he laughed.

For the first time in hours, you felt a smile creep up onto your face. “Aww, you did that for me?” you teased, settling down in front of him.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, quietly. 

You froze, a warmth coating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

He sighed, “James is- He’s an idiot. To hurt you like that. It’s-” he shook his head, “It’s fucked up and not fair on you. If I was him, I’d be showing you off,” he said, reaching over to place his hand on your knee.

You felt goosebumps erupt all over you at his touch.

“Even if I’m a hufflepuff?” you smiled sadly.

“Even if you’re a Hufflepuff,” Remus nodded, before adding, “In fact, I’m happy you’re not a Gryffindor, I know too many Gryffindors,” he laughed.

You felt yourself relax at the comforting sound, a small chuckle slipping past your lips as well. 

Remus bent over, searching through his bag before presenting a bouquet of (your favorite flowers).

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I- Are these for me?” you asked, reaching out slowly.

Remus nodded, “Just for you,” he said.

You pulled them close to your face, inhaling the fresh scent. “I love it, Moony, thank you,” you whispered. 

Remus just stared at you, his brown eyes filled with love. For a second, he looked away, as if pondering something, before his eyes landed on his hands. You watched as played with his sweater, shrugging, before taking in a deep breath, and looking into your eyes.

“I know it might be too early, but do you think- would you maybe- I don’t know how to say it,” he sighed, looking away.

You knew what it was immediately. Did you want it? Yes, so very badly. Because you were confident that Remus would treat you right. Even Rose thought so.

He knew you better than James ever had.

“Just say it Remmy,” you said, placing the flowers next to you, before taking his hands in yours.

He looked at you, staring into your eyes. You felt your heart pick up speed, thumping loud against your ribcage.

He shook his head, looking away again, unable to keep eye contact for long. 

You moved closer to him, knitting your hands together, sitting knee to knee. 

“I’d love to be your girlfriend. We- We’ll have to take it slow, but I’d absolutely love to do that Remus,” you said.

He gently untangled your arms, and worry took over. Is that not what he wanted?

But then, his lips were on yours, his hands on your waist, and your head was on cloud nine.

It wasn’t rushed, he took his time, savoring every second. It wasn’t mixed with the fear of being caught. Or the pain of knowing you wouldn’t get it again for a while.

No. You couldn’t think. Your heart took over your body, as you pushed back. Every fiber of your being, lighting up with joy.

It was like your first kiss all over again.

Until, someone threw the door open, and you almost feared how Remus would react.

But he didn’t recoil, or act like nothing had happened. He just backed away, shocked, one hand still on your waist, as the other ran through his hair, eyes closed as he let out a small airy chuckle. 

It was Rose. She was grinning. “I knew it!” she pumped her fist in the air. 

Remus laughed, shaking his head, “Now will you leave us alone? Unless you want to watch?” he asked, eyebrows raised. 

Rose’s eyes widened, and she held her hand up in defense, “No sir,” she said, before leaving, closing the door behind her, causing you to giggle.

Remus turned to you, smiling, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Promise we won’t be a secret?” You whispered.

“I promise,” he responded, pressing his lips to your forehead.

And he stuck to that promise, ‘till your heart went still.

[delfiore]

—I'LL NEVER WIN YOUR HEART.

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

synopsis: aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to alexia.

word count: 2k

tw: aNGST, spicy stuff, enemies to lovers to ……….?

a/n: wow has it really been a month since i last posted that's insane (i'm not being sarcastic i'm actually so shook at how fast time passes).

now playing:

Her eyebrows narrowed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes lasered in like a hawk.

Even from across the club, several of your teammates knew to get the hell out of her way when she made a beeline towards you.

Alexia was scary when she was angry. There was an untouchable force to her that made one cower under her steely gaze. You used to feel the effect of it, once upon a time, but recently it was almost a weekly occurrence that she would direct her hardened gaze at you.

And now, as she fixed that deathly glare onto you, you felt your arm being yanked just as you were about to kiss the beautiful stranger you met mere minutes ago.

“What the fuck, Alexia!” Admittedly, you were buzzed, and any obstruction to your enjoyment would irritate you.

“Come with me,” she gritted her teeth.

“No! Let me go!”

She tugged on your arm and dragged you away despite your protests. The bathroom at the back of this club was filthy, and the door barely did anything to block out the thumping music outside, but Alexia pushed you into one of the stalls anyway, caging you in between her arms on either side of your head.

You had half a heart to slap her across the face when she shoved you against the divider and kissed you like a barbarian, lips and teeth clashing against one another in a heated mess. She had no right to do this, but her entitlement made it so you were trapped in her grasp again.

The worst part was that you enjoyed it, very much, especially when she went on her knees to do what she always did best.

It happened not too dissimilar to how it started. Your frustration mixed with her only ensured you both collided in the most spectacular way. You remembered arguing with her after a horrible game, both of you throwing blame at each other. It happened so quickly, that before you knew it, your hatred had turned to lust. Hatefucking, as one might call it. Suddenly, all you could think about each day was how much you hated Alexia and couldn't wait to fall into bed with her.

“You can’t just do that and pretend like nothing happened.”

Your words came out rushed as you were still trying to catch your breath. Alexia exited the stall and went to wash her hands, doing so with a frustrating nonchalance.

She met your gaze in the mirror. “Can’t I?”

You scoffed. “Why do I bother? La Reina never gets off her high horse, does she? You’ve never respected me, ever.”

“That’s not true.” Her eyes flickered, and you thought you could see unspoken words behind them.

“Then what was that earlier?” You asked, irritated.

“I should ask you the same question,” she said firmly. “I thought we were fine. And now I see you grinding on some girl at the club? I mean—what is this, Y/N?”

It was always like that with Alexia, and if she didn’t say what she wanted to say, then you couldn’t help her.

“It’s not like you care,” you gritted your teeth. “I hope you had fun with Olga, by the way.”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “She’s my friend.”

“She was also your ex.”

“Can’t I be friends with my ex? And who are you to tell me who I should and shouldn’t hang out with?”

She was right. You had no place in her life to be telling her that. It was purely your desire, or a lack thereof, to hold a special place in her heart, but maybe you were foolish to wish for it when there has been so much history between you.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a habit you had since you were young. You suddenly felt the bathroom walls closing in on you—you needed to get out of there quickly.

Wordlessly, you shoved past her and returned to the club, the music once again deafening and pumping in your chest. You expelled a breath; the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Patri and Pina, with whom you came. That’s fine, there was an entire nightclub’s worth of people. You would find at least one person who would make you forget how much you despised Alexia and—maybe for the night—how much you loved her.

The story could have gone so differently. You two were similar in age, grew within the ranks of the Spanish youth teams together, then played at Barcelona together. You both played in midfield and younger players looked to you for guidance and leadership. Yet, it was known among your teammates that the two of you couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Ever since you were young, your similar play styles and clashing personalities ensured that you always butt heads on the field, and eventually, off it too. You grew up with this hatred of Alexia, as she did of you, but you could barely remember why. You were brazen and Alexia was cold, and that never worked for either of you.

It seemed she had had enough of your attitude one day, and shoved you so hard in training you thought you might have sprained an ankle. Some of the other girls noticed her distaste for you and started to distance themselves to gain favor with her. Then, Alexia became the best player in Spain, and you were always in her shadow. The media called you her ‘healthy rivalry’, even when you played for the same club. If you didn’t hate her as much as you did, they all ensured that you would never be able to get along ever again.

There was a memory that you buried deep inside, but it would easily surface again on nights like this. It made you question everything you’ve felt for Alexia, this thorn in your side that has never let you know peace

It was the summer of 2012 at a Spain U-19 camp. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before you came because it was your first call-up to represent your country. Alexia, of course, had become a familiar face in the team by the time you arrived. She wasn’t seen at breakfast one morning, and a coach said that she was dealing with personal matters. What you didn’t anticipate was finding her sitting alone by the steps of an entrance bawling her eyes out. You had tried to retreat, but Alexia had looked up before you could go.

“S-Sorry, I’ll just—”

“Mi papá . . .” Her voice was quiet like she didn’t want you to hear. Then, she burst into tears again. You had never seen Alexia like this, so distraught and vulnerable. The friends she liked to keep around were nowhere to be seen either. She never liked to appear weak in front of others.

Against your better judgment, you approached and sat next to her. “What happened?”

Exhaling shakily, she answered. “He was very sick. I just got the call from my mom.”

Your mouth hung open, unable to form words. As Alexia smeared her tears away with the back of her sleeve, she suddenly appeared younger and unlike the captain that you’ve come to know her. She was just a girl, who’d had something terrible happen to her, and you would be the biggest jerk not to push whatever you had between you aside.

“I’m sorry,” you only managed to say.

She said nothing and rested her face on the inside of her elbows.

“I’m sure he was very proud of you.”

“Please don’t say anything,” she breathed out, making you wince.

“Okay.”

Alexia sniffled. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You didn’t like talking about your feelings either. It was the first thing you found Alexia and you had in common.

You started to feel sick. Your head spun like you had just stepped out of a washing machine, but still, you reached for the passing bartender who looked at you with patronizing eyes.

“Another.”

“Y/N, that’s enough.”

You pushed her hand away, mentally cursing at her interruption.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m gonna have to explain to Jona why you’re still shitfaced at training tomorrow.”

“Fuck. Off. I don’t fucking care.”

Then, you heard her say something she had never said to you before. “Please. Let’s go home.”

The truth was, you never wanted to protest her. Maybe the years have softened you, but you didn’t want to admit how much you craved her affection. There were times when you despised her and thought her the lowest form of a human being.

“Please don’t do this,” you pleaded. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you watched her frantically spring out of bed.

“I—uh, have to go. I’m meeting someone for lunch.” She replied, reaching for her pants strewn across the floor.

“Ale, I’m sorry . . .” You managed a pathetic whimper, tears threatening to fall. “Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

How is it that she had made you feel so euphoric merely moments later, and now you felt like you had hit rock bottom? Only because those stupid words slipped out of your mouth.

. . . But was it such a crime to tell her that you loved her, when it was your truth?

You learned the hard way that Alexia didn’t want what you wanted. Maybe it was just her, or maybe it was you, and she didn’t want anything to do with you. If that were true, you were foolish to think for even a second that she would. You never gave her much to like anyway.

But still, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have any feelings for her. But aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to Alexia.

She had brought you back to your apartment, supporting you by holding you close and guiding you inside gradually.

The moment you hit the mattress, you groaned at the snugness of your own bed. Your eyes were barely open, but you saw the way she pulled your shoes off your feet and coaxed you to sit up so she could shed your outer coat.

But that was it. She was afraid to help you further, as it would resurface emotions Alexia thought should be buried, emotions that reminded her of sleepless nights and passion.

“Why are you so quick to get away from me?” You mumbled into your pillow.

You heard her sigh. “I brought you home, didn’t I?”

“Am I really that detestable that you wouldn’t even look at me?”

Her eyes met yours, but unlike earlier in the night, they now held a softness. “You know I don’t hate you. I never did.”

“Then stay.” You whispered, your head still spinning, but all you could focus on was her. “Stay with me. Please, we won’t do anything. I just don’t want to be alone.”

You didn’t care that you were begging her. You were tired of being pulled from end to end, and it was so much easier to love than to hate her.

You thought she would laugh in your face, pack her things and leave. Yet, when you opened your eyes again, she was lying in bed next to you, under the cover and all. She had changed into your clothes, so much more time had passed than you had thought.

“Go to sleep. We have training tomorrow,” Alexia whispered, her lips brushing your forehead softly.

You obliged, nuzzling your head into her chest as you let the comfort of her embrace lull you to sleep. You were too tired to fight it, to tell her no, that you would talk to her seriously about the two of you, even if you were drunk. It wasn’t the first time you had fallen for Alexia’s lies; all the other times, she left you in the dirt after giving you her everything for you to pick up the pieces yourself.

You hated her because you loved her. But maybe this is enough, you thought before sleep took over, just for tonight.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

[awfcspencer]

Where Do We Go Now? || alexia putellas x reader

alexia putellas x reader

Part 1

prompt: Friends with benefits situation ended in flames. Will they make their way back to each other?

warnings: angst, smut, begging, oral, fingering, top!Alexia with bottom!reader

It was roughly a quarter after midnight and you were up thinking about Alexia. I mean, who else would you be up late at night thinking about? She invaded all of your thoughts. She had left such an impact on your life in the short time you knew the girl. It almost scared you how much you had fallen for the girl when you didn’t even realize it. Now wanting so desperately to go back and confess your love, but surely she didn’t love you back. Right?

Staring at the ceiling as if something might change. You can hear the wind howling outside through your open window. As it seemed sleep was not in your foreseeable future, your thumb hovered over the green call button. But you couldn’t get yourself to click it. She had found someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

Nothing happened in the way you wanted. It was as if you wished you could take everything back. Go back and not leave the bar the night when you first met Alexia. It was all a bad idea to begin with.

Everything became blurred so quickly. One minute Alexia was guiding your body towards a release, and the next you were in your bed, alone. Alone and craving her.

It was more than sex though, you missed her soft but dominant nature, her voice, her witty personality, everything about her was lovable. But isn’t that what got you in this situation in the first place? Love.

The worst of all of it, other than the obvious, was that no one knew what you and Alexia had. No idea of why it hurt so much and what you lost. So when you threw yourself straight into your work and ignored your friends on any occasion they invited you out, you were even more alone.

Alone with nothing to do but reminisce. You had lost Alexia, right when you had realized you loved the midfielder. But did you even have Alexia to lose her to begin with? It was all a jumbled mess. Alexia was probably off with her new girl. But you can’t even seem to get over the girl who you hadn’t even dated.

For Alexia, the coffee shop barista was nice and charming, but she wasn’t you. She longed for the nights you spent in her tight grasp and the random conversations that you two dove into post-sex. She especially missed your body and the euphoric noises that left your mouth. She needed you emotionally and physically.

She wanted to call you but for some reason the way you abruptly left her home that night she told you that she was talking to someone confused her, to say the least. It was almost as if maybe you wanted to say something more, something to her.

But you left so quickly that she couldn’t even get a word out. She wanted to ask you how you felt about it, and if for some possible reason, maybe you didn’t want her talking to someone else. Maybe, just maybe, confessing feelings for the Spaniard. But surely you wouldn’t, it was just a friends-with-benefits situation for you. You hadn’t fallen for Alexia like she fell for you. Right?

_______

After much convincing, you were headed out to the bar with your friends. The dreaded bar in which you had met Alexia in, the bar you thought you would never step in again. Desperately praying and hoping she wouldn’t be there. The last thing you needed was to see Alexia when you still were not clearly over her. Simply just wanting to dance the night away.

Alexia tried sleeping with other people. But nobody felt like you, nobody touched her like you did. She tried to forget about the ache in her heart when she thought of you. She remembers the night she met you at the bar. She needed a night out, but more than that, she needed you. She would return to the bar tonight hoping you might be there.

The bar was loud, people fluttering in in large groups, looking for some fun. You were looking for a release. Maybe you would try to take someone home, someone to forget about someone else. The drinks were flowing, a wave of confidence and warmth entered your body. Friends pulled you over to the dance floor.

Alexia entered the bar with one mission on her mind, try and find you. It was a reckless attempt, what were the odds you would actually be here tonight, but Alexia had to try. It was her last chance.

Maybe it was fate? Maybe it was luck? But out of the corner of her eye, she saw you. Swinging your hips along to the beat of the music, talking to a woman who wasn’t her. The woman had her hands on your lower back as you grinded back into her. The realization hit Alexia like a million bricks. Yes, you were at the bar, but she hadn’t come soon enough, you had found someone else.

Overwhelming emotions hit Alexia, she was too late. She can feel the tears brimming in her eyes as she walked to the bathroom. She didn’t want you to see her. She would freshen up and leave. Leave you to be with a woman who wasn’t her, it broke her heart.

Dancing to the beat of the music, you found yourself gravitating towards a stunning brunette who was locking eyes with you. She swung your body around, pushing you into her chest. The music was just right, the alcohol streaming through your body was just right, everything was just right. Except one thing. The one thing you couldn’t seem to let go of. She was not the brunette you wanted. She was not Alexia.

You can feel yourself getting worked up. The emotions you kept trying to put on the back burner coming out front and center. You quickly pull away from the girl and make your way to the bathroom to collect yourself. Pushing the door open you run into a figure.

”Oh I am so sorry!” you immediately tell the girl.

Looking up to see just who you ran into, you are met with her eyes.

“Alexia” you chocked out. You feel as if the wind was knocked out of you, unable to breathe properly.

You could tell she had been crying. Your heart broke.

She can tell you were crying. Her heart ached.

“Are you okay?” is all she asked. She took her thumb and stopped the tear from falling farther down your cheek.

The bathroom was silent. There was no set in stone rules for when you run into someone of Alexia’s nature, yet alone in the same bar where you had met her. So many questions ran through your mind but never left your lips.

“Why are you here?” finally leaving your lips. Alexia was supposed to be talking to someone. She chose her and not you. So the reason she cornered you in the bar bathroom confused you immensely.

“I want you.” Alexia’s hand lingered on your face, thumb now brushing back and forth on your right cheek. You wanted to shout out that you wanted her to, but Alexia chose her path.

“I thought you were talking to someone.” Taken aback by her words, a mixture of anger and confusion.

“It’s over. She’s not you. What about the girl you were dancing with” She asked you.

"She's not you."

You're not really sure who leaned in first but suddenly your lips were on hers. She gently pushes you back towards the sink as her tongue enters your mouth. She easily lifts you up slightly so your ass is on the sink. She’s attacking your lips as she is standing between your legs. You’ve missed her, bad. Your hands have found home in her hair, treading your fingers through her scalp earning small soft moans from Alexia.

You moan into her mouth as she pushes her hips into your core. Whispering between breathes, “Lock the door Alexia.”

She swiftly turns and bolts the door shut, returning her lips to yours in no time.

Still in the searing kiss, her large hands have found your chest and pulled on your top hinting for you to remove it. You remove your top and bra all together, eager for Alexia to touch you, eager to make up for lost time.

Her tongue swirls around each of your nipples, it was euphoric. She then licks a long hot line down the valley of your chest, kneading your breasts with each of her hands until each of your nipples are perked and red. She treads her thumbs over the now raw skin.

Her long fingers hover over your pants on your hips, keeping you stationed in place. She makes quick work and discards your pants all in one quick swift. Grinning into another kiss as she notices the small circle of wetness on your underwear. She knew what she was doing to you. She knew you missed her just as much as she missed you.

Rubbing soft circles on your clit through your underwear as she went back and forth kissing your thighs. It was just not enough, you needed more, you needed her inside you now. Your hips bucked upwards to find some sort of friction, some sort of pleasure but Alexia forced your hips back in place. Your head was spinning, endorphins running through your brain.

“Ale please.”

She removes your underwear slowly and spreads you wide on the sink with her hands on your thighs. You were on full display for her. Your cunt pulsed waiting as Alexia took her time, taking a mental image of you. Desperate and needy but all for her.

On her knees, she is immediately attacking your clit, circling your sensitive bud with her pointer finger. Running her long tongue up and down your slit before she is inside you, pushing her tongue back and forth. The moans leaving your mouth spurred her on. She had missed your pussy, her pussy. You tasted amazing to her. All you could do was simply just throw your head back in pleasure.

With her tongue working your body up, she places her two middle fingers in your warm mouth. Wetting them with a string of spit that leaves your mouth when she pulls them out and into your needy cunt.

“God” you begin to yell out as Alexia pulls you in for another kiss. She picks up her pace and pounds her fingers into you, using a forward upward motion to hit every inch of you. She uses her other hand to hold down your left hip as you buck unwillingly.

Whether it was how needy you had been the past few days or the way Alexia was working your body, you were dangerously close. Alexia knew your body like the back of her hand, knowing which part of your neck was sensitive or how you liked clit stimulation while she fingered you senseless.

“Ale I’m going to cum.” you breathed out. Your legs ached in the wide position they were currently in and your core muscles were pulsating waiting for Alexia’s permission to orgasm. Your hands now were stationed above your head on the cold bathroom wall behind you with Alexia's strong grip on your wrists.

She could feel you tightening on her fingers, she knew you were teetering on the line of release. She quickens her pace and uses her thumb rubbing side to side on your clit for additional pleasure.

The words “Let go baby.” left Alexia’s mouth as your body huddles over in pleasure. Alexia holds you tight as your legs spasm and your body shudders as you orgasm.

She slows her pace on her fingers inside you as she pulls you in for another kiss, but this one is soft. It was slow as your lips rhythmically moved together. It was the warm lips you had missed on those lonely nights. Pulling on her wrist that was connected to the fingers inside you, you lick her fingers clean with dead eye contact with Alexia. Her eyes were dark, pupils dilated as she watched you.

Another wave of silence feel over the bathroom, collecting your clothes and putting them back on. Almost like it was routine.

Breaking the silence, Alexia said “Come home with me.” You knew what it meant and so did she.

You knew there was a conversation to be had. But right now it could wait. You interlaced your hands with Alexia’s as you bid your friends goodbye and went home with Alexia.

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 || eddie munson x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 || sometimes, the best things happen when you're a little late.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 || 2.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 || implied smut/established relationship (18+), unplanned pregnancy, reader's parents are controlling, no descriptions of pregnancy/childbirth, dad!eddie, implied preppy/rich reader but it's not discussed much

this is just a short and sweet little fic based on a random idea I had, totally different from what I normally do but I hope y'all like it!!

“Hey pumpkin,” he purred as you sat on his desk, resting one of those beautiful ringed hands on your thigh.  You had been practicing how you were going to say this all weekend and now you felt like you’d forgotten it somehow; he had that effect on you.

Taking a deep breath, you saw his eyes narrow for a second and his head tilt— he knew something was up, but he didn’t have to ask what before you blurted it out: “I’m late.”

He frowned and looked at the clock on the classroom wall; “It’s still three minutes until class?” he observed.

“Eddie…” you whispered, feeling so— something.  This crazy feeling you’d had for days now; this weird, nervous, insecure kind of feeling.  This oh my god is this happening to me feeling.  

He looked at you, waiting for more context, and you chewed your lip as you looked away.  Then he seemed to get it, and his chest sunk.  “O-oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I— okay,” he breathed, leaning in closer to you.  “Like… how late?”

“Four days?”

“Shit,” he hissed, glancing out the window and back at you— like there was gonna be someone standing outside holding up a sign for him that would tell him what to say.  But there wasn’t, and he obviously had no fucking idea what to say.  “Shit,” he said again.

“Yeah,” you also said again.

He stood up from his desk, lowering his voice and standing closer to you so (hopefully) only you could hear; thankfully nobody else seemed to be paying either of you much attention, just trying to get ready for class.  You wished you could think about class right now.  “What do we— I mean, how do we— I— when will you know?  Like, for sure?”

Even with all this fear (and nausea) swirling inside you, you still almost swooned at those big brown eyes, looking at you like this.  You could tell he was terrified, just as much as you, but he couldn’t hide the small edge of excitement— as much as this is supposed to be every young guy’s worst nightmare, you knew a part of him was thrilled at the chance of it.

You were too, though you were too embarrassed to admit that even to yourself.  It was horribly misguided; your parents didn’t even know you’d been seeing Eddie, because you’d figured they would have a heart attack if they knew.  This was going to be armageddon— if it was really going to happen.  You were still hoping it was just an unpredictable period and a whole lot of wasted emotion.

“I won’t know for sure until I go to a doctor,” you answered, “but I can’t really do that without tipping off my parents…”

“I’ll drive you,” he decided.

“And… if it’s…?” you dared to mumble, nervously glancing down, preparing for him to answer that he would drive you to a different doctor…

Instead, he opened his mouth and the bell rang.  “We’ll talk about that later,” he decided.  

“Okay,” you breathed.  “I— yeah, we’ll talk about it.  We’ll… figure something out.”

He pulled you in for a kiss suddenly, and it soothed you a bit as you melted into his arms.  The teacher cleared her throat; “I’d oblige you to return to your own classroom, Miss?” she instructed.

Eddie didn’t let you go quite yet, though, holding your face and looking at you closely.  “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised.  “No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed your forehead one more time as he hugged you, and then you took your leave, back to your class, where you had no hope of focusing.

~

“If you do— I mean, if it is—” he kept stopping and starting over— “and if it’s mine—”

“Eddie!” you frowned, smacking him on the arm.

“Sorry, sorry— I know you’re not— sorry,” he mumbled, “I just mean… that’s my baby.  Our baby.”

You bit your lip.

“I-if it is, you know, there, I mean,” he mitigated.

“Okay, so if it is— if I am… what do you want me to do?” you asked.

“Whatever you need to do,” he nodded.  “Whatever’s right for you.  I mean, I know your parents…”

He trailed off, and you raised your brows as you nodded.  “Yeah…”

“So if you have to… I understand,” he insisted.

“But what do you want me to do?” you asked again.

He chewed his lip.  “It’s your choice.”

“I know,” you groaned, “but if you could choose what I was going to do for me—”

“Which I would never do,” he announced proudly.

“What would you hypothetically want me to do if it was up to you?” you pressed.  “And don’t say I should do what’s best for me,” you warned, causing him to shut his mouth which he’d just opened.

“I… uh, well, I guess…” he stalled, looking down; but you could tell he already knew what he wanted, he was just trying to find the courage to say it.  Getting a serious look on his face, he finally admitted it: “I’d want you to keep it.  I’d want us to… have it, raise it.”

You sighed, smiling with relief— you felt the same way, but didn’t want to say it first, in case it pressured him into feeling like he had to be involved.  And the last thing you wanted was to raise a baby with someone only there out of obligation.

“I know we’re young, and it’s sooner than either one of us wanted this to happen,” he continued, “but I don’t… I don’t want you to think of our baby as a mistake.  Not planned, sure, a little unexpected… but if we do this, it’s not a mistake.  It’s two people who love each other starting a family together.”

He stepped closer to you, holding your hands tightly as you smiled.

“But that’s just if I was in charge of everything, which I’m not,” he laughed.  

“No, that’s what I want, too,” you admitted.  “But, if that’s gonna happen, I have to tell my parents first.”

Eddie blew out a long breath that inflated his cheeks.  “Yeah.  Good luck with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, and he coughed.

“Uh, I mean— I’ll come with you, if you want, obviously.  Your dad doesn’t own any guns, right?”

You laughed a little, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest with a sigh.  “He won’t literally kill you, Ed— but I think I should do it myself, just so they have a chance to meet you when things are less… emotional, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, kissing the top of your head and petting your hair as you leaned on him.  “S’gonna be okay, pumpking, even if they get mad at first.”

You nodded, replying “I know,” but you didn’t really know.  You had this sick feeling in your stomach, terrified of how they would react— especially considering you’d already been formally banned from seeing Eddie anymore.

You waited, of course, to tell them until you were late enough that something had to be said— actually, they nearly figured it out once the sudden bouts of nausea began.  If either of you had known what would happen after they found out, you would’ve cherished that time before more carefully.

one year later…

It took about half a second for Wayne to figure it out, seeing you on his doorstep with a baby on your hip.

His nephew had been listless ever since you left, and it took him a while to even say what was going on— but after a few times of innocently asking if that girl’s ever gonna come around again, Wayne finally assumed that you’d dumped him.  But apparently, it was far worse than that; when he had a few beers in him, Eddie told the whole story about how a broken condom led to a missed period and about a dozen positive at-home tests.  And that, apparently, wasn’t the issue— he admitted he’d wanted to go through with it, offered to marry you, got excited about having a child even if he felt totally overwhelmed at the idea of becoming a father.

I figured I could do it better than mine, Eddie told his uncle, a little somber smile on his face, and that made me feel better.  Kind of a low bar, but still.  I’d’ve done anything for that baby… for our baby…

But that was when he got choked up and struggled to say much more, until Wayne eventually pulled it out of him.  Her parents, man, they hate me— guess I can understand why, ‘cept they never even met me.  She told ‘em and they just went ballistic.  And they… she’s gone.

‘Gone’ as in, shipped off to live with extended family in another state and, presumably, have the pregnancy quietly ‘taken care of’.  You’d told him from the start that’s probably what they’d do, or at least make you give it up for adoption.  They told their country club and cotillion friends you were studying abroad, to save the shame of admitting their daughter was knocked up by a trailer park freak.

Well, apparently Eddie had been slightly wrong about what happened to the baby after you disappeared, and now, here you were.  And Wayne was staring at you, with that sweet-but-slightly-terrified look in your eyes.

“Is Eddie here?” you asked meekly; because what else would you ask?

Wayne sighed.  “No, he’s at work— he’ll be back in an hour.”

Your eyes lit up a little, even through all that fear you had on your face.  “He has a job?”

“Yeah, at the oil change place on Main,” Wayne nodded.  “You can wait for him here, if you don’t mind.”

You smiled a little; “F’course I don’t,” you assured, “and… well, I figured you might wanna meet her, too.”

Wayne smiled back, feeling like he was finally allowed to address the adorable, chubby-cheeked elephant in the room.  

“Say hi to Uncle Wayne,” you instructed the baby sweetly, and she smiled but tucked her face into your shoulder.

“Hi, beautiful,” he smiled at her, waving with just the tips of his fingers.  “Wow, got your daddy’s eyes, don’tcha?”

You felt your face warm as he noticed it— of course, it wasn’t like there was much chance this was anybody else’s baby, but knowing that Wayne knew made you slightly nervous he would judge you somehow (since everyone else had).  Instead, he brought you both inside and started making tea.

~

When Eddie’s van pulled up outside the trailer, you glanced at Wayne nervously.  He nodded towards the door, adding, “I’ll watch her— just go.”

Your legs were a little shaky as you stood up off the couch, but you did your best to breathe normally as you opened the door and stepped out onto the lawn.

Eddie was getting groceries out of the back of his van, and your heart rate picked up even more as you waited for him to see you; you worried he wouldn’t want to, after you disappeared on him.  You’d never had a chance to say goodbye, to explain what was going on or why you were leaving… he could hate you, if he wanted, for abandoning him.

But when he did see you, and you shyly shrugged a little as you waited for a reaction, he dropped the grocery bags on the ground and ran to you.

“Oh my god!” he laughed excitedly, pulling you into a tight bear hug.  “Pumpkin, I thought I might never see you again…”

You hugged him back, wanting to think of something to say but getting too caught up in holding him again, in burying your face in his soft shirt and smelling his cologne; this was all you’d been thinking about for most of the last year.

“I missed you so much,” Eddie began as he let you go for a moment, looking at you like he wanted to be sure you were really here, “and I wanted to call, or write or something, but I couldn’t— I guess you couldn’t either— and I barely got out of bed for a week after you left, just ask Wayne— how long have you been waiting?  Are your boobs bigger?”

You started to laugh, covering your face with your hands and Eddie’s laughed thinly as his face tinted pink.

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna say anything,” he mumbled, “but like, they’re bigger, right?”

You nodded.  “Yeah— it’s ‘cause I’m breastfeeding…”

He blinked quickly, and you bit your lip as you waited for a reaction.  “I thought— I figured your parents had made you— I— pumpkin,” he breathed, and your heart twisted.  “Is this really…?  I mean, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

You shook your head.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit before— I wanted you to meet her so bad, I just—”

“Her?” he repeated, and you only started to choke up when you saw the tears in his eyes; you nodded.  “I— oh my god, I love you,” he said simply, wiping a tear off his cheek before hugging you again— not as tight as before but somehow warmer and sweeter.

“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I couldn’t call, I swear I wanted to but—”

“Don’t be sorry for anything, okay?” he interrupted you, kissing the top of your head as he began to rock you side to side in the hug.  “I’m just so happy you’re here…”

“Sh-she’s here too,” you blurted out, making him freeze and look down at you.  “She’s inside, with Wayne, if you wanna…?”

He sniffled as he wiped another tear away; “Y-yeah, of course… of course I do, wow, yeah.  Okay.”

“I-it’s okay if you’re not ready yet,” you assured, but he laughed.

“Are you kidding?  I’ve been waiting for this since… I don’t even know how long— since you sat on my desk in Science class…”

You beamed and hugged him again before you walked together into the trailer.

When you and Eddie stepped inside, Wayne was bouncing her on his knee— she was reaching up to grab his face, a new favorite hobby of hers, and he scrunched up his nose and closed one eye as her little hands explored his rough, stubbly features.  Eddie already looked overcome with emotion just watching the scene before him, staring forward at her with a slack mouth and shiny eyes, and he hadn’t even seen her face yet; when you shut the door, the sound made her turn her head to look back at you.  He was still speechless, walking forward slowly and kneeling down in front of Wayne’s feet.  Wayne turned her to face him better, and Eddie wordlessly reached up towards her; she grabbed hold of one of his fingers, and he smiled and sniffled as he looked at her tiny fist and back up to her face.  “Hi there,” he greeted quietly.

“Eddie… this is Emily,” you introduced them quietly, and Eddie beamed as he glanced at you for a second before looking at her again.

“Hello, Emily,” he said, “I’m Eddie— I mean, dad.  I’m Daddy.  Nice to meet you.”

You snorted at how formal it was, but still had to wipe a tear from your eye.

“Can I hold her?” he asked quietly, nervously.

“Of course,” you breathed, almost heartbroken that he could ever imagine not being allowed to hold her— but then again, he never got to see her, or even know she existed, until now.

Wayne handed her off to Eddie, who put his hands under her arms— she was still so small, his grasp almost covered her whole body.  Standing up and taking her with him, Eddie stared at her for a moment with the most amazed smile on his face; she reached for that very face, and he laughed as she held on tight to his nose.

You were wondering if you’d have to guide him in how to hold her, but as he pulled her into a hug, he impressed you with how experienced he already looked— he looked like a dad, and he’d only been doing it for less than a minute.  It made your heart so full, finally seeing them together, finally seeing your baby in her father’s arms, finally feeling like your family was complete.

He bounced her in his arms, kissing her head and face, tears still striping his cheeks.  Hi baby, hi beautiful, hi gorgeous, hi Emily, he kept whispering to her.  Daddy loves you so much.  Daddy missed you.  

[mayearies]

BAD HABIT miles g. morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY. miles can’t communicate. he has trouble recognizing his emotions, rio knows this. uncle aaron knows this. you don’t know this. you don’t really know anything is wrong, but you always wish him the best. but you can only wish upon the same star so many times until something changes. CONTENTS. miles being head-over-heels, mentioned break up, rio worrying for her son, uncle aaron being against the whole relationship thing, mentioned meeting his parents AUTHORS NOTE. haii i’m not back but ill feed you once every few months also format ib: luvjunie

rio .

mother knows best. we all know this. a mother knows when she sits on the couch and her 15-year-old sits next to her and starts going on about his girlfriend, how he’s everything she’s ever wanted that he’s in love.

but, a mother also knows her son. “miles, let me ask you something.” she sighed, “how much does she know about you? you tell me all these things about her, does she know the same?”

he paused, taking a soft breath, “i mean, no. but she doesn’t seem like she wants to know all that much.”

her brow creased, “if she’s dating you obviously she wants to know more about you. ¿de qué hablas?”

“yeah, i know, but she doesn’t really ask me.” his brows raised then creased a little.

confusion and concern.

“i’ll tell you one thing, girls tend to not say a lot of stuff that’s on their minds,” she cleared her throat, “they want you to tell them first. it takes a while for them to be comfortable with you.”

miles sighed and bit his cheek. now he was doubting you weren’t comfortable with him. you had only been dating a month.

“i just… want you opening up more. your uncle does too.” her voice turned softer. now miles felt a bit bad because he thought she was being unreasonable with the whole uncomfortable thing.

plus, uncle aaron knows he can’t open up like that to her. he barely has time for his hobbies because of this whole… prowler thing. so what the hell can he talk about? not to mention he can’t even talk to his mother about this because she doesn’t know that either.

“talk to her about comics-con!” miles groaned when she said that. “ma. no.”

rio pouted, “you gotta open up at some point, miles. i mean it.” she noticed one of his braids was slightly undone and braided it for him, “you’re like a shell now. i worry about you.”

miles kept quiet, after a bit he leaned on her shoulder and kept his eyes straight. “i know.”

they didn’t say anything else. rio knew miles knew already. he mumbled a ‘sorry’ and they left it at that with a kiss to his head. there wasn’t a point in talking anymore.

aaron .

“i’m tellin’ you, this isn’t gon’ work out well for you, man.” he warned, “someone’s gon’ end up getting hurt. both you, and her.”

“not like you liked her that much anyway.” miles muttered under his breath, sitting on the couch ans watching the news. just the same thing every week. sinister six this, sinister six that… god damn.

“i never said that, i just don’t want you making a mistake,” he huffed.

aaron was more rough around the edges than his mother, that’s for sure. he didn’t hate him but he was so serious sometimes for no reason. takes part in why he doesn’t talk about this stuff with him. not like he has a father figure to turn to anyway.

“how do you know i’ll make a mistake?” miles felt a bit more defensive now.

“because that’s how it goes—you fall in love, think everything is great, something goes wrong, everything crashes, you move on. it’s a cycle.” he paused before saying this next sentence. “how do you think your ma’s marriage went? think about it.”

miles softed a bit, but he was still a bit irritated. “you didn’t have to go that far.”

he knew that. but it was a perfect example of the worst thing that could have happened. miles sighed, sinking into the couch and turning off the tv. there was tension, and it filled the silence.

“you’re saying i shouldn’t be in love? it’s that bad to like someone?” he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

aaron sighed, finding a better approach to it. “be in love all you want. tell her all about you. your hobbies, what you like. you know how closed off you are, man.” he paused, “just… don’t tell her too much. don’t make a stupid mistake.”

“…alright.”

present day .

miles walked through the apartment door, looking the same as normal. but rio sensed something was off. “qué pasó?”

“nothing. hi, ma.” he kissed her forehead before walking off down the hallway. he didn’t really act like this. his mom could always tell the difference.

“how are you and your little girlfriend doing?” he chucked lightly, trying to make light.

“oh, uh… we broke up.” there was a long silence, “like, today.”

rio was not entirely surprised, but she couldn’t help but ask why. miles shrugged, not facing her.

“just because.”

@ MAYEARIES ‘24

[steddiealltheway]

Some kind of AU

Eddie tries not to slam his sweetheart into her case even though he’s pretty fucking pissed. He had just played a gig to what was supposed to be more than a couple of drunks because Brian had promised he was coming to his set tonight with a few friends. But his boyfriend had forgotten again.

The rest of the band gives Eddie his space, thank god, as he heaves an amp into Gareth’s truck and stalks off to his van - having done his part in packing up. He’ll make his round of apologizes later, but right now he wants to go to his apartment and sleep this night off.

Every traffic light in town seems to turn red as soon as he approaches it. He gets cut off by three people. And he swears the crack in his windshield is getting larger. And really this night can’t get worse.

He storms up the two flights of stairs to his apartment and sighs in relief when he gets outside of his door. He unlocks it quickly and goes inside, ready to get in bed as soon as possible.

Then, he hears it.

A moan.

Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs. Really not in the fucking mood to deal with Brian’s bullshit horny mood right now.

He stalks to the door and flings it open, ready to chew him out. But then he takes in what’s happening. Brian is on top of another man who is half naked in his own bed.

“So this is why you missed my set tonight, huh?” It’s the first thing that comes out of Eddie’s mouth.

Brian’s head snaps towards him, and he quickly climbs off the bed. “This isn’t what it seems, babe… and I thought you said your set would run late tonight.”

Eddie laughs humorlessly. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t process any of it. “And I thought you said you were coming tonight. Clearly, I mixed up your definition of the word.”

“Eddie…” Brian reaches out to grab his arm.

“Get out,” Eddie growls out.

Brian laughs. “You don’t mean that.”

Eddie has a good few inches over Brian that he uses to intimidate him, slowly whispering, “Get the fuck out.”

Brian stares at him for a moment in disbelief then quickly leaves the room, running towards the front door and slamming it shut.

Eddie sits on his chair and puts his head in his hands. It’s really been the worst night. There’s a huff of breath to his right.

Eddie head snaps up towards the stranger still in his bed. “What the fuck are you still doing here, man?”

The other man blushes and slowly lifts his left wrist which is handcuffed to the bed. The fucker used his handcuffs.

Eddie groans and opens his drawer to grab the key. He stares at the empty spot that the key usually occupies then he frantically digs around.

An unfamiliar voice says, “I don’t mean to make this worse for you, but I’m pretty sure he still has the key in his pocket.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie automatically replies.

“Man, I wish I was,” the stranger says, right hand rubbing sorely at his left wrist.

Eddie huffs, “They’re supposed to be for decoration only.” He stands up and makes his way to his tiny closet, digging out an extra wire hanger and beginning to bend it. He sits on his bed and goes through the tedious task of trying to pick the lock.

“You know how to pick a lock?” The man asks.

“No,” Eddie answers truthfully. “But I know how to hot wire a car.”

This gets the stranger to chuckle softly. Eddie looks up and really sees him for the first time. He has light brown eyes, long lashes, full lips, and really glorious hair. Eddie doesn’t know how Brian got him to go “home” with him.

“I’m Steve,” the stranger introduces himself, “Figured I should tell you my name if we’ll be here for a while.”

“I’m Eddie,” he replies. Although he’s sure Steve caught onto that before. He looks back at handcuffs, tongue resting on his top lip in concentration.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Steve rambles out. “I- I didn’t know that he was taken, you know. Especially with the way he approached me tonight all… Never mind. But really man. I had no idea. And I feel like absolute shit. I mean, the handcuffs weren’t even supposed to happen. He had gotten the key out and joked about it. But then they were suddenly on, and then you came in and… I’m so sorry.”

Eddie had stopped trying to pick the lock mid rant because Steve apparently has the habit of using his hands while he’s talking. Instead, he takes the time to look the guy in the eyes again, having the absurd thought that he wishes they had met in a different way.

Eddie shakes his head and continues picking the lock. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” Eddie says sincerely after a few moments.

The stranger runs his right hand through his hair and relaxes a bit more into Eddie’s bed. A minute goes by before Eddie notices that he’s shaking a bit. He sees the chills down his arms and quickly grabs at his blanket and pulls it around the man.

Steve takes it and whispers a quick thank you, pulling the blanket up his naked torso and around his neck. He stares off for a few moments and asks, “Is that a D&D dice set?”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He smiles widely. “You know what they are?”

“My friend, who’s kind of like a little, annoying brother, plays. I was actually thinking of buying him a new set for his birthday. Do you know where I could get them custom made? He’s been telling me about this new campaign…” Steve rambles on for a few minutes about all the things his friend - Dustin - has told him about. Steve seems terribly clueless about D&D, but it’s so obvious that he cares so much about this Dustin kid. And after a long night, this actually warms Eddie’s heart.

He continues listening to the campaign, impressed by whoever this Will kid is because he seems to have excellent dungeon master skills.

Eddie shares what type of design he thinks Dustin would like based on his character and offers to draw up a few concepts for Steve to use. Then, he rattles off a shop in town that he got his dice at which launches into Eddie explaining the reason for his set which was a gift from his uncle.

Eddie starts describing a few moments from his latest campaign and where he thinks it’s going, and he’s surprised when Steve gives him a few great ideas for the plot. As he’s going on about his most evil character created - Vecna - a clicking noise rings out.

Eddie stops mid rant, and both he and Steve look down at the cuffs. Steve slowly, almost reluctantly, pulls his wrist out and stares at the red ring around it.

Eddie grimaces and goes towards the kitchen, pulling an ice pack out of the freezer. When he comes back into the room, Steve is standing up, pulling a yellow sweater over his head.

It’s oddly endearing.

As Eddie gets closer he realizes they’re around the same height which is surprisingly comforting, being able to easily look him in the eyes.

Steve takes the ice pack and thanks Eddie again, pressing it into the slight bruise forming. He glances at the clock behind Eddie. “Shit, I have to get going or Robin’s going to kill me,” Steve says, stuffing his wallet that he left on the counter into his pocket.

Eddie’s heart drops at the mention of the name. He prays Steve isn’t like Brian, so Eddie can’t help but ask, “Robin?”

“My roommate,” Steve clarifies.

Eddie lightly sighs, oddly relieved that the stranger isn’t also cheating.

Steve stares at him for a few moments, eyes flickering between Eddie and the fridge strangely enough. He puts the ice pack on the counter and rushes behind Eddie, grabbing the dry erase marker and scribbling on the magnetic whiteboard.

Eddie stares in slight shock when Steve pulls away. “It’s my number,” Steve explains. “It’s just… I’ve also been cheated on, and it sucks. And if you needed to talk to someone about it… you can always talk to me.”

Eddie stares at Steve speechless.

“That’s weird, isn’t it?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowed. He continues, “Yeah, that’s weird.” He doesn’t erase his number though.

He makes his way awkwardly to Eddie front door.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, grabbing the ice pack and rushing towards Steve. He shoves it into his hand. “Take that with you, and give it back to me later. I have to draw that design for you, after all.”

Steve stares at Eddie for a moment then softly smiles. “Yeah, that’s right. You do.”

The two hesitate at the door for a few seconds, staring at each other. Steve shakes his head and opens the front door. “It was good meeting you, Eddie. I wish it could’ve been under better circumstances,” he says with a grimace.

“Yeah,” Eddie says laughing awkwardly. “Thank you for everything. I’ll call you.”

Steve smiles brightly and gently closes the door behind him.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He glances at the fridge, takes in the number, and begins laughing again.

What a fucking night.

(Part Two)

[literaila]

do you ever think reader would storm out of the house after a fight between her & satoru? (referring to ur keeping secrets fic.) i feel like part of her wouldn’t bc she’s also thinking about the kids and she just can’t leave them, but she also seems a lot more grounded than satoru in general. i think the other part of her would also need a minute to step out for a bit bc i just know satoru drives her to insanity. i don’t knoww, satoru’s reaction to her storming out just infects my brain, but i know she couldn’t do that to megumi and tsumiki </3 i’m such a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics

“where are you going?”

“not sure,” satoru says, barely mumbling. “i didn’t ask.”

“you didn’t ask?”

he looks at you, just a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. but the rest of him is apprehensive—he knows what you’re thinking.

he always does.

but he looks back down, shoving shirts into a suitcase in the worst possible way.

“does it matter?” he asks, dryly. “it’s just another work trip.”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

“however long it takes to—“

“can i come with you?”

satoru pauses, and his eyes trail to you.

to you, where you’re standing in the doorway. you only know he’s leaving because of the suitcase, you only know that you can’t deal with him being gone again because of that feeling.

it’s reminiscent of packing your own bag at fifteen. of never returning home.

“you want to come?” satoru’s voice is too smooth, too unserious. “you hate planes. and what about work? you want to take your students too?”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

satoru sighs. he finally relents, walking over to you. his smile is a little irritated, tired. “it won’t take long,” he says, rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll get the bed all to yourself.”

“this is the fourth trip in the last three months.”

he tilts his head. “it’s the same amount as always.”

“it’s—“ you stop.

it’s different.

and your heart is racing, because you’re used to this feeling.

really, satoru has taken regular work trips for as long as you’ve known him. his passport is well used, his suitcase replaced almost once a year.

but it’s different.

because it used to be you, satoru, and the kids. it used to be you and the kids waiting at the door, talking about him behind his back, going to the airport to pick him up.

and even if you missed him, you knew that tsumiki missed him just as much. you knew that megumi was waiting for him to come back just the same—getting restless without someone there to mess with constantly.

it used to be you and the kids, when satoru was gone.

but now…

megumi is at school all week—and even when he comes home, it’s only to keep you happy. so that he can take a break from jujutsu, and sleeping in a dorm right next to yuji’s.

and tsumiki—

you stop thinking about that almost immediately.

it’s just not worth it.

when satoru leaves, you’re all alone.

“i wish you could come. you know how the higher ups are about—“

“why don’t you tell them no?”

satoru is wearing his blindfold, so you can’t see his eyes. but you see it as he leans back, looking at you curiously. “what?”

“tell them no. they’re scared of you, aren’t they? they’re not going to make you—“

“what other special grade sorcerer are they going to send?” he asks, shaking his head. “i hate them too, but if they need me—“

“i need you.”

satoru stops. you want to see his eyes—you want him to stay here.

you don’t want to walk around the house and chat with ghosts. you don’t want to be the only one left behind—the only one who has nothing else.

what about you? what’s supposed to happen to you when satoru leaves you behind?

he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.

“what?”

“i don’t understand why you have to go,” you say, and you’re angry now. “i’m tired of your work trips, and i hate that you don’t even care, and i hate being in the house all alone—“

“what? what do you mean i don’t care?”

you pull away from him. just to do it first. “you don’t even try to get someone else to do it, you just leave—“

“why are you blaming me? i didn’t ask for this.”

“because you’re always gone! and i’m always alone, and you haven’t even asked me how i feel about it—“

“it’s not like i enjoy doing it,” he says, frowning. “i don’t like leaving you or the kids, it’s just work—“

“i think you do enjoy it,” you spit. and you know that you shouldn’t but, “you like being the only one that they can call. being the strongest. that’s why you haven’t told them no, that’s why—“

“what?”

“is it fun to leave the house? to escape for a week or two while i’m here to take care of everything?”

satoru scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“what? you can admit it. go on and leave. you’ve done it before, satoru.”

his jaw clenches. “if you don’t like being here,” he says, so soft—but you can feel it. the impending blow. “then go somewhere else.”

immediately, your body flinches back. you fall inwards, wanting nothing more than to fall back against him.

but it’s too late.

“i can’t help that im the strongest, i don’t enjoy leaving you—but ill do it because it’s my job. if you hate being alone, then find something else. go see megumi, or nanami, or—“

you take a step back, almost stumbling into the wall.

“you’re putting words in my mouth and i—“

but you don’t hear the rest of that sentence.

and maybe this is your fault. you shouldn’t have picked a fight, you shouldn’t have even said anything.

satoru isn’t to blame for your loneliness. he isn’t to blame for anything.

you turn around. and you walk out the door with shaking hands.

go somewhere else, he said.

and you will.

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Death

Part One.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!

“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.

How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.

Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.

Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.

Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.

We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.

The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.

So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”

My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.

As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.

It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.

“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.

Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.

We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.

We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.

I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”

Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.

Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.

His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.

“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.

I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.

“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”

He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.

“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”

Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.

It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.

Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?

“Walk with me.”

Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.

“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.

“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.

“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”

He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.

“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.

“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”

The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.

“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”

For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.

“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.

“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.

“Can anybody get over their death?”

“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.

Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.

“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“

“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”

“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”

I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.

“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”

“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.

“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”

Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.

The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.

“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”

Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.

My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.

While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being ex-HYDRA and Bucky being your mentor

Bucky Barnes x teen!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @marvelflame2010: “Hello, can you write headcanons for Bucky Barnes being a mentor to a teenager (around 15-16) that was ex-HYDRA and is trying to be a hero? read your request rules, so I hope that this is proper. Thank you!”

sometimes it felt like no one knew what you had went through, being abducted and forced to be a weapon for a secret organization whose purpose was to gain more control

but when you met these avengers, it felt like everyone and their momma knew what it was like

bucky barnes, for example

the winter soldier, a WWII soldier deemed missing in action, presumed dead, and happened to be a prisoner of war and beyond

the experimentation and mind control he endured was much like your own, which gave you some comfort

“does it ever feel weird hearing one of your trigger words as a civilian? you know, now that we got ‘reset?’” -you

“not…no, not really? who’s speaking russian around you, y/n?” -bucky

“uh…i mean, no one. i’ve just been watching a lot of russian tv recently” -you

“why would you naturally assume i am also doing that?” -bucky

“why did you assume i didn’t?” -you

ok, thats not the greatest example of bucky mentoring you, but it’s a great example of sarcastic bickering!

honestly, the hardest part was learning how to be gentle again

if you could even say you were ever gentle to begin with being taken so young

it was hard to be so ruthless and unfeeling and have to start feeling

the nights of panic and anxiety were the worst, they made you wish you had that switch in your mind still. you’d whispered the trigger words to yourself sometimes to see if they were still there and if they could “help” you turn off those feelings

but bucky knew. he knew and he learned and he stuck with you

“y/n, those feelings are good” -buck

“no! no, they’re not. why are you saying it’s good to feel bad? i can’t breathe! i can’t think!” -you

“because you have feelings now. it’s the same as when you’re happy. you get to feel happy, it comes with all that other stuff. you have options, opportunities, this is one of them. you just have to take deep breaths” -bucky

combat training was the strangest feeling

“nope. too hard” “pulling your punches now” “your aim there was lethal” “you can’t put that much force into a chokehold” “cutting someone’s finger off isnt cool, y/n. kind of a dick move” “you automatically try to inflict severe injuries, arteries should not be the go-to. disarm your enemy first, if anything”

nothing ever felt right

if you were fighting effectively, you’d risk killing someone, which isn’t what you do anymore

if you held back too much, you’d be injured or killed, and all this would be for nothing

there had to be a sweet spot, but it was never what you were trained for. you were trained to eliminate your targets by any means

but you understood bucky all the same

bucky was there to help you acclimate to the norm too

like, whatever that was

says the guy with the metal arm and fought in world war ii despite the fact it was now like. 2020-something

like a normal ass dinner

“you know, i rarely ever got to go out to eat as a kid” -bucky

“can you ever say something that doesn’t make you sound ancient?” -you

“hey, you wanna pay for your meal tonight or do you want me to?” -bucky

“sorry…” -you

you liked to watch dumb tv shows (the american kind) with him

he’d indulge for a few minutes and then walk off unless he was REALLY interested

actually, he really enjoyed the office

“which avenger would each character be?” -you

“don’t…don’t make me do that” -bucky

“come on! you know, i kind of think phyllis and bruce are alike. like, theyre soft until they get mad and then all bets are off” -you

“that is…dumb” -bucky

sam really loved that bucky was there for you

but he saw that bucky was kind of doing it to distract himself too

“you know, me and steve found bucky just minding his business a while back. all he wanted then was to be alone, mind his business. this? this was what he needed” -sam

“what? a teenage hydra defector?” -you

“i mean, if youre gonna put it that way” -sam

“no, i get what youre saying” -you

steve actually didn’t come up too much, you know?

you thought bucky was trying to keep himself in the present as much as he could

which was what you were trying to learn from him in the end. how to move forward

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[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

-

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

[loonylupinblack3]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: could charles still love you, even after everything?

Word count: 2.6k

part 1

“Y/n calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” you snapped. “My whole career is hanging by a thread. I can’t calm down.”

Lando sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t the right thing to say. But you need to breathe, because you’re turning blue.”

You reluctantly did as he said, because your chest was starting to hurt and you’d probably collapse if you didn’t. But as soon as you did you wished you hadn’t, because accompanying the breath was the sharp stab of grief.

What was happening? Two days ago, your world had shattered, every newspaper and website claiming the same thing; you and Charles had dated. It didn’t matter that it was past tense- people were still hurling insults your way, discrediting all your work just because you dated a boy.

Except he wasn’t just a boy. He was Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari, and you were Y/n L/n, driver for Aston Martin. 

And now you were facing a possible investigation, because you’d kept your relationship a secret and both teams were worrying you’d passed information onto each other, so here you were.

Suspended.

“Can they even do this?” Yuki’s voice sounded enraged, and if you weren't as tired as you were you’d probably have felt warmed that you had people who cared about this as much as you.

Oscar looked up. “Is Charles suspended too?” 

You flinched slightly at the mention of your ex, but everyone either didn’t notice it or purposefully ignored it, which you were grateful for.

George had already started whipping out his phone. “I’ll ask Pierre.”

You stared at your four friends, all here to support you during this time, and felt a surprising amount of love towards them. If you had any energy you’d probably shower them all in your affection, even Yuki who would bat you away with a stick if you tried.

You laid your head in Lando’s lap, the boy immediately playing with your hair, an almost subconscious instinct by now. It was embarrassing how much time you’d spent in Lando’s lap over the past two days.

“Y/n,” Oscar said, passing you your now ringing phone. “It’s your mum.”

You groaned but rolled off of Lando’s lap, sitting up on your bed and grabbing your phone, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before answering.

“Hey Mum-”

“Stupid idiots! When I come down there- I mean, who do they think they are?! Ridiculous boys parading around as men. As soon as I get my hands on them-.but how are you doing Sweetheart? I know this must be hard.”

You let out a small laugh at your mum’s rant, one that threatened to turn into a sob so you silenced it. “I’m… I don’t know, really. Just trying to get through it.”

“Suspended! For what?! For fucking another driver? If anything he should be suspended, since it was his dick in you.”

You choked on a gasp. “Mum.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

You shook your head, shocked but also feeling slightly better. Your mum always managed to take your mind off things, even if it was by saying out of pocket things that, if you’d had your phone on speaker, would have made your friends gobsmacked. 

“Has he even talked to you about it?” Your mother prodded.

You sighed, feeling the insecurities that had been sticking to you like parasites, infecting you, come to the surface. “No, he hasn’t talked to me.”

Why hasn’t he? This was literally the worst case scenario for you, and he knew that. It was why you broke up in the first place. So now that your deepest fears have happened, the dread turned into something real, he was gone? Just like that? What happened to all the promises that he’d be there for you, that you’d get through this together? You knew you weren’t together anymore but shouldn’t they still mean something? 

Your mother continued her rant at your words, babbling on about incompetent people in power, stupid idiots, etcetera etcetera. You had to hang up on her when you saw Geroge’s less than pleased expression though, because obviously something had happened during the phone call to put him in this mood, because he was always annoyingly optimistic, even during this mess.

As soon as you put your phone down you demanded to know what happened, what George found out. He sighed, looking forlorn that he had to be the one to give you the news, but pressed forward anyway.

“Charles hasn’t been suspended.”

Silence followed his words. You didn’t even know what to say, your jaw working but no sound coming out. Charles wasn’t suspended? You were suspended but Charles wasn’t, for doing the same fucking thing?

“What the fuck?” Yuki burst out, standing up. “They can’t do this!”

“They can, mate,” Oscar said tiredly, rubbing his face. “They’re from different teams, and it was up to those teams to make the decision, not the FIA.”

Yuki kicked the side table, looking for all the world like he was going to storm the Aston Martin headquarters and demand they un-suspend you. You all knew why Charles wasn’t suspended and you were. It was the same reason it took you so long to get into F1, why you still got daily death threats and had to undergo a different training to everyone else. 

Because you were a woman.

Suddenly you were so tired. You’d been tired for a while, but now it was exhaustion weighing you down, a draining, crippling exhaustion you wanted nothing to do with. You were tired of worrying, tired of constantly scouring the internet, soaking up every insult directed your way. You were tired of missing Charles, a constant in your life now. Waking up and having your hand search for his body, only to find the sheets cold. Thinking about him every spare moment of the day, your mind straying to him against your will.

You missed him, and you wished he’d call. You regretted your decision, didn’t you? Since the secret came out anyway, except now you didn’t even have Charles to be there for you through it. It really was all for nothing, and here you were, stuck with the decisions you made.

Lando’s head resting on your shoulder snapped you out of your sulking. You looked down at your hands, letting out a sigh. None of the others were talking, waiting for you to speak, to see what sort of reaction you had before they did anything.

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” you said quietly. 

Yuki’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, about to say something, when George elbowed him in the side, sending him a pointed look. Yuki scowled, rubbing his stomach but stayed silent, letting you leave with no complaint.

You were too tired to question their strange behaviour and left the hotel room, walking along the halls. You weren’t sure where you were going; you just needed to get out of that room, away from your friends’ pitying stares.

You eventually entered the elevator, deciding to visit the bar in the lobby where you’d drown your feelings in alcohol and hopefully receive a respite from this horrible nightmare you were living.

Except as soon as you exited the elevator, heading towards the bar, you realised you’d made a terrible mistake. Because there Charles stood, speaking in hushed tones with Pierre Gasly and making big gestures with his hands.

And fuck, his hands. It was probably a strange thing to focus on considering the circumstances, but it was the only thing keeping you from freaking out so you welcomed the distraction eagerly, eyes tracing each vein on his hand, remembering how gentle they could be when he wanted them to.

But then he looked away from Pierre, a frustrated expression on his face, and his gaze landed directly on you, and his eyes widened, mouth parting slightly as he stared at your figure. You panicked yet couldn’t move, swallowing thickly but unable to tear your gaze away from him as he continued to stare, looking dumbfounded.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

As soon as you regained control of your body you turned around, walking swiftly back into the elevator. You couldn’t do this today; not when you’d just discovered your career was at risk and his wasn’t, for the exact same thing.

Charles didn’t seem to be thinking the same thing as you though, because just as you pressed the button to your floor, the doors starting to close, his hand was there stopping the doors from closing, and then he was inside the elevator with you as the doors did finally shut, except now they felt like a death sentence, trapping you in there Charles.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, and oh.

Oh how his voice comforted you. Everything was shit, your whole career crashing down before your eyes, the thing you worked so hard for in the midst of being destroyed, but with one word from his mouth Charles somehow made everything seem slightly better. It warmed you, and you cursed yourself for it.

“Charles,” you replied just as softly, unable to help yourself. You longed for him like the sun longed for the moon, like the stars longed for the clouds. Polar opposites, unable to be together but fuck if you didn’t try as desperately as you could to make it work. To be with them even against all odds.

And then suddenly you were being wrapped up in Charles’ arms, apologies spilling from his mouth as he pressed you against him, grip tightening with every passing second. And you were just as hopeless, returning the embrace with a desperation you didn’t even realise you had, hiding your face into his chest, escaping from the world, feeling nothing but him.

He rested his chin on your head, eyes fluttering shut, hugging you tighter against him. It took everything in you not to start sobbing, to beg him for forgiveness then and there. Everything felt so fucking hard, and if you had to leave without Charles you weren’t sure how you’d cope with it. You never imagined having to do this without him.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Charles choked out, words muffled from where he pressed his face into your hair. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You pulled back, quickly wiping away a stray tear before he could see. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because this is your worst fucking nightmare.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. It was your worst nightmare, except it was double the horror because you didn’t even have Charles by your side to help you through it.

“Why didn’t you call?” you asked instead. “Or even text me?”

Charles looked away guiltily, but he didn’t take a step back. If anything he held you tighter, like he thought you were going to try to escape him any minute. Little did he know you didn’t want to be anywhere but his arms right now.

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” he admitted quietly. “It’s my fault this is happening. We were too careless. I was too careless, and encouraged you to be as well, even though I knew what was on the line for you. This happened because of me.”

You were shaking your head before he even finished speaking. “Charles none of this is your fault. I knew what I was doing getting involved with you. Both of us are responsible.”

Yet only one is suspended, a vicious voice hissed in your mind.

You tried pushing it away, not wanting any bitter feelings to ruin the moment. Unfortunately Charles knew you, and he noticed the sudden shift, eyebrows furrowing.

“What is it?”

You swallowed, unsure if you should tell him or not. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t suspended, he shouldn’t be blamed for it, but you couldn’t help resenting him a little bit for it. It was wrong, you knew that, but it was how you felt.

“I was suspended.”

Charles opened his mouth and closed it again, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know,” was his eventual answer.

“And you weren’t.”

Pain briefly flashed across Charles’ voice, his voice strained as he spoke. “I know. I’m sorry. I tried to talk them out of it but they said because we weren’t together anymore the risk of secrets spilling was higher and-”

“You talked to them?” you asked, surprised.

Charles looked almost hurt at the shock on your face. “Of course I did, Y/n. This isn’t fucking fair. If I can help you I’ll do it, even if we’re no longer together.”

You kissed him then. You weren’t sure how it happened. You just felt this overwhelming warmth at his words, this feeling of love filling you to the brim, begging to be released but you didn’t know how to except with this. With a kiss worth a thousand words, telling him everything you couldn’t say in person, all your doubts and insecurities and love love love.

Charles kissed you back just as deeply, hands cradling your face like you were something fragile. Like you were precious, something he wanted to keep forever in his arms, never let go of. Like he loved you just as much as you loved him, even now. Even after everything. 

When you both pulled back there was a hesitant hope in your eyes. You’d understand if Charles didn’t want you again, if he just kissed you back in the heat of the moment. You’d hurt him, and now you wanted him back. It was understandable if he wanted nothing to do with you. It would break your heart, of course, but you’d understand and you wouldn’t fight it.

Except Charles was smiling, which wasn’t something someone would do if they were about to break up with you. Even though you weren’t even together.

“I love you, Y/n,” Charles breathed, cupping your face. “I understand if you don’t want to, but please, let me be with you again.”

Your heart gave a little squeeze. “You still want to? Even after all I did, after everything, you still want to be with me?”

Charles smiled, pressing his forehead against yours. “Of course.”

You opened the door to your hotel, hand in hand with Charles.

“Y/n, you’re back, we were starting to worry-”

Lando stopped speaking, jaw hanging open as he stared at Charles, distrust and confusion clear on his face. As if his silence was some indicator of danger, the three other men bounded into the living room, expressing similar shock to Lando at the sigh of Charles next to you.

“You bastard,” Yuki muttered, lunging forward to- well, you weren’t even sure what he was intending to do; tackle him maybe?- but Oscar grabbed the hem of his shirt, keeping him away.

Charles looked at them sheepishly, giving a little wave. “Hey guys.”

George looked at you. “So are you two dating again?”

You nodded silently, but couldn’t stop the smile forcing its way onto your face.

George sighed. “Fucking finally. Pierre had been harassing me constantly about it.”

“He was what?!” Charles squawked incredulously.

George, sensing he had made a mistake, kept his mouth shut. 

You didn’t care though. All you could care about was that you had Charles with you, by your side, and he’d be with you while you sorted this mess out, got your career back on track and made sure no team or media would fuck with you again. You had him for every moment in the future, every night as you went to sleep and every morning as you woke up. You had him for every race, every dinner, every anniversary.

That was all for the future though. Right now you just wanted to hang out with your friends, and your boyfriend, who regardless of everything that had happened was here with you. Who cared for you, loved you, wanted to be with you, even after everything.

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Congrats Stardust! You got Memory of Dreaming!💫⏳

I’ll make sure you won’t forget this!

…

Teehee! Sweet dreams, Siffrin!

…

If you got One Hat at the ending of the game, DO NOT READ THIS AFTERMATH! Get the secret in Act 6 and then you can enjoy this aftermath! If You got Two Hats, read on head! ;)

v Aftermath v

*…

*He should be here any minute…

*You can imagine them right now.

*The poor little thing probably is so confused…

*Their most likely aimlessly searching for the party, thinking the worst is happening!

*…

*You can’t help but pity him…

*…

*Finally, You see them come to the foot of the Favor Tree.

“H-Hello, guys? The villagers said I should go here… Is… Is anyone here?”

*They forgot their eyepatch and still wearing their undershirt and pants…

*…

*He looks so small…

*Were you this small? Back when it was you?

*Stars, has it been so long?

*That you don’t even remember what you look like?

“Mira? Isa? Madame? This isn’t funny!”

*You can’t help but stare.

*…

*Okay, you’re wasting the time you have…

*You did your part! Now, it’s their turn.

*It would be silly to ruin all your hardwork!

*You hop of the branch and put on your best performance!

“Oh! You finally found your way, Stardust?”

*They jumped at your voice.

“What the-?! Who… What?!”

*You put your hand to your face…

“Oh my, Stardust! That’s no way to greet someone! Especially someone who has been helping your friends!”

*That gets their attention, of course it does…

“You’ve seen them? Where are they? How can I get to them?”

*… Stars, you forgot how clingy you were…

“Stardust, you know where they are…”

*After all, They should remember now! Remember what they did to the others…

*They can no longer hide behind their ignorance anymore!

*They know it’s all their fault…

“B-But! W-will they be okay? Without me?!”

*What a stupid question.

*You imitate picking your nails…

“They were doing just fine without you before… Besides, are you really in any condition to do anything useful? Hm?”

*Ha! Even now… You can see how much the loops destroyed your body…

*No, it’s not your body anymore…

*They look down on the ground, ashamed…

“But… I’m the reason why we’re suck here… Shouldn’t I be the one fixing it?”

*That’s exactly what you were thinking…

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

*They rub their left elbow, looking defeated…

“I don’t know… I didn’t think that far…”

*…

*It’s amazing, how clueless they are…

*But it’s fine…

*That’s why you’re here!

“Well, I have an idea… You might want to try it!”

*They look at you, confused.

“Why? I barely know you, yet you somehow have me already figured out?”

*Ha, of course!

*How could you forget how paranoid you were!

*You roll your eyes.

“Believe me, I’m probably the only one who could understand how that silly little brain of yours… Unless, you want the others see how awful you really are?”

*Yea, that shuts them up.

*So eager to please, in hopes of getting people to stay…

*It’s funny how easy you are able to shift him into place…

*How pathetic…

*How disgusting…

“Hm… They should be nearing the third floor by now…”

“Hmm…”

“You want to hear my plan, now?”

*They chew on the inner part of their cheek.

“Hmm, okay… If it can help the other’s, okay…”

*You take a deep breath.

*Mira asked you not to do anything stupid.

*She made you promise to watch over them…

*She would be heartbroken if she knew what you were planning on doing…

*The others too…

*You would be betraying the little trust they had with you…

*…

*But…

*But that promise was for this Siffrin, wasn’t it?

*She’s not your Mirabelle…

*She could never be your Mirabelle.

*Your Mirabelle is long gone, you think about that every blinding loop...

*Just like your Isabeau, your Odile, your Bonnie, they are all gone!

*Why should you care about that mere copy of your precious family that you destroyed?!

*IF ANYTHING, THEY SHOULD BE GRATEFUL TO YOU.

*For the fact that you’re letting them escape…

*For fixing this mess…

*Once and for all…

“You could… Make a new wish…”

*His eye grows wide…

“But-”

*You take the coin from their pocket.

*You roll it across your hand.

*They stare at you…

“You can use this…”

“How did you-”

“You know how. Stars, you can be so annoying…”

*You can’t hide the venom in your voice.

*Sorry, Odile…

“Come on, Stardust…”

*You hand them the coin…

“Let’s take this from the top, and get it right this time!”

*They look at the coin, conflicted…

“After all it’s the least they deserve,”

*You make sure that they can hear you.

“After what you put them through…”

*You see their face crumpled as you say that.

*Yep, that got them…

*They take the coin and looks at them…

*Looking at you for any guidance.

*They only have you.

*…

*How tragic…

”Make your new wish, Stardust, and free your family…”

*He looks at the coin, cautiously…

*…

*They close their eyes…

*Breathe into the coin.

*Repeat the wish three times.

*Holds it to his chest, to keep it safe…

*Then… They flip it to you.

“So… Now what?”

*You see them yawn… The affect of your wish beginning to show on their face…

*Part of you feels guilty, on how easy this plan went…

*How all your little actors played directly into your hands.

*But you in to deep now, are you?

*This is what the Universe wanted from you…

*…

*They should be near the king now…

*…

*You can’t help but laugh!

“Now we wait!”