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toruforuu · 4 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader || hogwarts au (18+)

wonderwall ch.1 dusk of intrigues

✼pairing:hogwarts au - slytherin!gojo x ravenclaw!reader

✼summary: gojo satoru, the golden boy of a famous family lineage of wizards sets his sights on you, a half blood defying his pureblood morals. he makes it a goal in his life to make yours a living hell. years of endless pestering, teasing and rivalry stretching out. as times goes on, he finds himself thinking about you more than he isn’t. he grows torn between his family’s beliefs and the forbidden ache tickling his chest whenever he sees you

✼meaning: wonderwall - the person you cannot stop thinking about (song by oasis)

✼genre/tags: hogwarts au, female reader, strangers to enemies/sort of academic rivals to forbidden lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut, pining and yearnin (mostly gojo), built up tension, teasing, bickering and pestering, jealousy, slightly spoiled gojo, obsessed and lovesick gojo, both are pretty oblivious to their feelings

✼warnings: discrimination, death, grief, shitty parents, light bullying, mentions of hook ups, sexual topics, family pressure and trauma, mentions of injuries and violence, degradation

✼word count: 3.7K

✼chapter: 1/?

a/n: hii! thank you so much for deciding to read my writing, it means a lot. hopefully you’ll enjoy what lies ahead and it does not suck. i finally finished the first chapter. might have spent the whole Sunday trying to figure out how shit works here on tumblr instead of studying for my upcoming exams, yikes. i am cooked, but at least this is finished haha. enjoy!

based on this // next chapter

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to playlist

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to vision-board

When a letter came into the mail with your name etched onto it, you immediately knew what it was.

Magic was no mystery to you regardless of the fact that your father was a mere human.

You were so thrilled when you got your fingers on the letter, rushing towards your mother without a second thought. Running through the house like lightning bolt. You tugged at her skirts, all needy as you waved the letter in the air.

Her eyes beamed with something that went unnoticed by the young version of you. Your mother was well aware of the risks which came along with marrying a human as a witch. She didn’t mind the whispers at work from those noble ranked wizards nor she regretted any of it.

Because of the love which had blossomed from her decision over the years.

Because she go to have you in the end, completing your little family.

There was a one thing that made her slightly anxious though. The thought of her sweet little girl never getting the experience at Hogwarts brought her uneasiness, however, it wasn’t anything she sought after desperately. She did her best to not worry you nor herself, simply letting it play out as it was supposed to.

Yet when she saw you clinging to the letter, her original unease dissolved into nothingness as her excitement grew at the sight of you. She was just as excited as you. Perhaps a tad more than that.

Your regular school was finished in a flash. Summer was in full bloom, hotter than the last one you remembered.

You did feel a bit saddened by the thought of leaving your friends behind and lying to them about moving schools, yet the image of your future was what kept you going without looking back too often.

You felt your life was on the verge of undeniable change. You felt it then, even as a child.

You spent the whole summer break wondering and pondering on your lawn, running in the backyard. Occasionally slipping into the streets to play with your neighbours as the humid weather shined down on you.

Before you could grasp it, your mother proudly took you into Diagon Alley as it was already time for shopping. You two had made a list together, containing all the things which were mandatory to bring or simply would make your time at Hogwarts a little easier. As you swam through each shop, ticking off all your essentials, your mother filled you on her years in school. Something she never truly did before, maybe because she didn’t want to build your hopes up. Just in case the letter for you wouldn’t come. She described them as the best time of her life, which made you all jumpy from giddiness as she went on, telling you all sorts of funny stories and things you were longing to be part of. The mere thought of following your mother’s footsteps got you convinced you were also born to be a Ravenclaw. You had to be.

Soon enough you found yourself standing on the train platform, orbs taking in the sweet image of your mother. The tears prickling in the corners of her eyes were impossible to not acknowledge, however, you didn’t dare to comment on them. Afraid you would start crying too so instead you hugged your mother tightly before you bid each other a goodbye with the sole promise of writing each other letters if needed.

Without looking over your shoulder you stepped into the train as the tears found its way out anyway, anxiety was eating at you as you realised you are now among children who are also aware of the wizard world.

It’s not a secret you have to keep anymore and for a second you can’t wrap your silly little head around the fact that all you ever dreamt of is starting already, layed out in front of you.

You pushed through the crowd of bodies, doing your best to seem approachable, smiling at everyone regardless of the gnarling fear in the pit of your stomach.

Seconds later you slipped into one of the cabins in the train which is fully empty, taking the seat closest to the window, because all you were aching to do is to see your mother one more time before you leave.

And you did, both of you were frantically waving at each other. Her sending you kisses, cheeks stained by the salty aftermath of motherhood.

The door sleeked open and your head tilted towards it instantly. You were met with eyes painted the softest shade of blue, they almost looked celestial as they stared back at you. And that doesn’t even begin to cover it, the orbs stood out on the fair canvas of pale skin belonging to the boy standing in the entrance of the cabin. His locks were the colour of crestfallen snow, the purest strands of white your eyes were ever blessed with. You most definitely haven’t seen anyone as captivating as him before in your life. He was angelic even before then.

And of course you knew who he was.

A Gojo.

Who didn’t?

You might have not known his name yet, but it was still utterly clear he had to be a part of the Gojo family. Every wizard, even some lucky muggles, knew who the Gojo family was. Or rather they could point out their striking features in any sort of crowd as it was nearly impossible to overlook them.

It is one of the most eligible families of the wizard world. Not exactly for a flattering reason though, their respect is earned by their old fashioned and brutal ways. Their history reflects their deepest secrets and darkest intentions. They had a habit of following those who were marked as evil by any sane person. Perhaps they still fall back to that habit. Old habits die screaming after all.

Their never ending fortune plays a certain role as well.

He for sure looked like he came straight out of a royal meeting. His hair well kept, only few disobedient strands of hair poking out. Features looking as if they were sharpened and his choice of clothes only added points to the unbreakable imagine of his character.

What you didn’t know back then is the fact your mothers once used to be particularly good friends at Hogwarts. Roommates. As life goes, their friendship crumbled the second your mother married a muggle. Your father. Her best friend was not able to withstand the blow and put her hatred aside. Not even for her dearest friend.

You blinked at the radiant boy, opening your mouth to say a simple greeting since you didn’t want to judge him immediately.

But, God, your blood boiled the second he shot you a simple dismissive glance and scoffed before sitting down on the other side of the cabin without even acknowledging your presence any further.

He scoffed.

From that second a seed of years full of never ending pestering and teasing was planted into the soil.

Luckily, that day was also the day you met your ride or die. Your best friend called Arabella who was the last one to join the cabin of the train, sitting right beside you. Call it a coincidence or fate, whatever.

She spent the whole time talking, telling you how she almost didn’t make it to the train on time due to her father who overslept. You couldn’t help but laugh as you listened attentively.

Gojo Satoru was the complete opposite when it came to attending Hogwarts. From the moment he was born, it was known he would be a wizard since he came from a pureblood lineage of the best amongst the greats.

He wasn’t nearly as excited to start as you were. He wasn’t on the edge of bouncing off the walls from joy, he was rather stressed. Stressed as much as a young boy can be. He had a role to play. An image to keep. A need to make place for himself in order to feel validated by his family which was eagerly sending him off after filling him with their poison for years.

Satoru might have been young, nonetheless he was aware of the burden weighing down on his shoulders.

The old fashioned ways of purebloods seeped into young Satoru’s mind as he grew up in the highest ranks of the wizard society, surrounded by people who shared his family’s views. So taking their morals as his was something inevitable.

When he saw you that day in the train cabin as you were waving to your mother, he felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. His parents were probably already off to leave the transport. He felt envious of a stranger.

The way your coloured orbs lingered on him didn’t go unnoticed by him either. It wasn’t anything new to the boy, he understood you recognised him the second your eyes fell on his frame. He got pretty used to it over the years. People gawking at him, asking him stupid questions.

He recognised you too. Not for your features nor your family’s history. You were a nobody in the wizard world.

Well, not exactly.

Satoru put the dots together as his eyes landed on you. Your face was somewhat familiar.

He definitely saw it a couple of times in The Daily Prophet since your mother worked at the ministry, department of magic.

Unlike you, Satoru Gojo had a sense of the history between his mother and yours. For a simple reason, their friendship was an example of sacrifice for the greater good of their morals.

At least in his mother’s eyes.

He didn’t mean to scoff at first when you greeted him, it came naturally so he left it at that. He couldn’t be bothered to correct himself, to give in that effort.

To be fair, he found you quite amusing after a while of silence hanging between you. There was something alluring about you that he couldn’t quite put into words, couldn’t explain it no matter how hard he tried. No matter how clever he was.

Looking back it now, he wouldn’t be able to do it even today.

He can recall the moment when he captured you sitting pressed against the window waving a goodbye to your mother so vividly despite the fact it has been years. The day was chaos itself, yet the thought of you in there seems to be steady.

He watched you from the corner of his eyes the whole ride while you chatted up with a strawberry blond girl, the conversation you two were having slurred together as the years wore off.

He himself made friends on the way to Hogwarts as well, the children were basically at his feet the second they took him into their sights. Satoru Gojo recognised most of the children already as he was paraded to society from an early age.

The ride was buzzing, laughter and chatter wild. Older students passing by the cabins, gazing over the new arrivals with curious eyes.

Similar was the way to the actual castle, the atmosphere was filled with excitement bursting through most of the first years who were wondering in which house they would spend their time. The sun was beginning to set in the background, giving the situation a glow which continues to shine like gold in memory.

You kept silently praying for it to be Ravenclaw as the boat dangled on the surface of the Great Lake enveloping Hogwarts.

It quickly vanished from your mind as your gaze captured the beauty of the castle sitting on the hill. Sighs of amused woah’s and aw’s filling the air.

The nerves got you frozen into the ground as you stood in the queue. The Great Hall overwhelming with the bustling of people, slight anticipation hanging in the air as everyone else waited to see who would be the new people joining their houses.

Satoru Gojo went up to the sorting hat before you did, being one of the first ones to be called upon. The hat hummed in deep thought when it was placed on his artic locks. It didn’t take long, handful of seconds.

“Slytherin!” The hat called out throughout the whole hall, cheers erupting from the Slytherin’s table as Satoru snugly smirked. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone in the room, the Gojo’s have a legacy and there wasn’t a single one who didn’t belong to the house of Slytherin, in the last century at least.

You got lost in thought and didn’t notice your name being called, which caused the other first years behind you to chuckle and nudge your shoulder which jerked you back to the reality. Your cheeks flushed with a light blush as you made your way up, sitting down carefully. You could hear your own heart pounding in your chest so hard the blood ringed in your ears.

Admits all that, you certainly didn’t notice the gaze of Satoru Gojo lingering in anticipation as everyone waited for the sorting hat to decide on which house to send you in.

You were too preoccupied, your eyes fluttered shut as you swallowed the dry lump in your throat. Awaiting the decision.

For a second you thought it might have been a dream when the sorting hat mumbled out the word Ravenclaw.

You fluttered your eyes open, the crowd already in cheers and the hat being taken off hour head. Your chest felt significantly lighter when you stepped down to the stairs and happily hurried to the Ravenclaw’s table to sit. In the meantime, the godly like piercing blue eyes burned two holes in your back. A small part of Satoru hoped you would get to share a house, just to find out what was that alluring energy you were surrounded by.

So it felt only natural to feel a pinch of disappointment. You weren’t a Gryffindor so he didn’t mind much, that’s what he thought.

It quickly became clear the two of wouldn’t be considered anything close to the word friends.

Satoru Gojo did not bother to acknowledge you in the first few months, your existence falling into the abyss of the past. You did not bump into each other often. Your classes were seperated.

You too had forgotten about the interaction on the train as time went on. You were living your fantasy, your inner desires becoming reality.

You were so blinded by the image of Hogwarts you painted in your mind that it came as a low blow when you finally realised it wasn’t all that you hoped for. It wasn’t a total disaster, however, once the magic of the arrival evaporated it started to feel like a regular school. That wasn’t the issue, you thrived for knowledge and learning, but your mother portrayed it as a fairytale. Soon you came to a realisation her memories were in a haze of nostalgia, full of yearning which caused her to slightly over exaggerate.

You weren’t lonely, no, you had made couple of peers along the way. Hell, you even ended up sharing a dorm room with the strawberry blonde girl you met on the train, lightening each other’s rough start.

You missed your parents badly though. The life you left behind for this felt suddenly like a sore wound. You wrote letters home, usually twice a week. Your mother would respond to each one despite her work circumstances. Her words filled with fondness kept you from succumbing to the solitude you grew to feel over the first few months.

If you would look back at it now, you probably wouldn’t recall much of it. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred, it simply felt hard to function in a completely new environment and this feeling caused almost the entirety of the year to blur together.

Acing the exams, learning how to understand the rules of quidditch by which you were mesmerised. Spending your free evenings in the common room, eating in the Great hall. Learning to how to fly your own broomstick. Bonding with Arabella over your shared interests.

By the time spring came to bloom a new beginning, your sorrows were left in the cold winter.

And that’s when your world collided into yet another problem.

One you wouldn’t get rid of so easily.

Satoru Gojo was pleasantly surprised to find out his place at Hogwarts wasn’t something he had to earn, it was already served to him on a silver platter. He expected to loathe each passing second at the school. Instead of that he found himself enjoying being away from his suffocating parents, fooling around with the featherlight friends which tagged by his side since he stepped his feet onto the ground of house Slytherin.

He was a dazzling young wizard, everything came to him without efforts. His grades more than decent to begin with. He became the fastest first year at flying, surpassing some quidditch players with ease.

By the time your first year was almost over, everyone learnt to know who Satoru Gojo was and that it was better to stay on his good side. No one wanted to mess with him, no one dared to step up against him as fear was quickly spread and so were the rumours.

He didn’t mind either of it, he bathed in it.

He actually welcomed such an imagine, not bothering to deny any of the rumours. Regardless of how bizarre they were.

He hadn’t expected to come across someone who would defy him. But there you were, rushing as a hero to stand up for the muggle born boy he was picking at.

“Hey! Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything to you!” You yelled through the hallway as the sun shone through the cracks of windows, casting a halo around the white haired boy. His appearance making him look like an angel. He was far from that though.

He stared at you with a neutral expression, looking down at you as crouched down to help the other first year up. Part of him admired your bravery, however, if your bravery meant defying him then he wouldn’t have it.

“Eh?” he made a confused yet disgusted sound, giving you only that as a response before he let out a laugh filled with poison. He felt a rush of amusement when he briefly noticed the way your nostrils flared, the way the corners of your lips turned downward as you now stood in front him.

The other first year already on his way to get lost from the golden boy and his puppets.

“This is none of your business, so get lost,” Satoru stated with a small shrug, his tone lazy as if you didn’t matter at all.

“Well, it’s not right,” you hummed back, not caring about the lack of interest from his side. Gojo’s friends looked at you with their eyes narrowed, itching to be told to follow the first year or show you why to not mess with them. The signal from him never came, leaving them to simply watch over your interaction.

“So?” he exhaled, pouting his lips at you for a moment.

“Be grateful I am not picking on you,” he added as he turned his back to you, clear sign of dismissal. Your jaw flew open a little at his attitude, you could feel your temper slipping and as he began talking to his friends as if you weren’t there, you lost your cool.

“Aren’t you rude? Seriously, do you think you’re entitled to act like this?” you scoffed at him, expecting him to respond with the same kind of energy, but he barely looked over his shoulder to snicker down at you.

You hoped your interaction on the train wasn’t a definite take on your future, but as you stood in front of him now couple of months later any trace of what you were thinking before was now buried and rejected. He was the spoiled brat you had him for.

“I am talking to you,” you press further, earning yourself looks from the passersby.

He turns to face you then, slight flicker of annoyance etched in the curve of his fair eyebrows. He didn’t appreciate you using that tone. At first he expected you to seize the opportunity to walk away, spare yourself the trouble.

“I don’t take advice from the likes of you,” he spitted out, voice dropping a tone to sound firm as he glared at you. Not a shiver of regret in his piercing eyes.

Due to this very interaction he glued his sights on you.

And suddenly you seemed to be everywhere where he went. The Great Hall where you shared your meals. Your group of friends lingering near the lake. He kept bumping into you at Hogsmead. In the library.

As if on purpose, they merged the first years of Slytherin and Ravenclaw for transfiguration classes due to lack of staff.

Catching a mere glimpse of you during class made his stomach hurl as he recalled your insolence. He couldn’t stand seeing your face. So there wasn’t an opportunity he passed down on which could make your life a little rougher. It started out small and innocent. Throwing curled up pieces of papers into your hair during class. Using cunning spells to spill your ink, crunch your notes. Calling you names and chasing after you in the hallways.

Times you spent in detention couldn’t be indeed counted on your hands. All thanks to the infamous Gojo Satoru who pestered you any chance he got and somehow always managed to get out of it.

It was him who usually started the bickering, yet when it came down to owing it up, his clever mouth ran to spill all the reason why it was your fault and not his. Sparing himself from the detention and driving you crazy.

It’s what seemed right to him back then. And he kept the promise like an oath.

Your future was sealed.

credits for dividers: [@enchanthings-a @cafekitsune]

447 notes · View notes

mellowwillowy · 1 year ago

Note

I love how you portray self aware twst!

Can i request a yan! Self aware twisted wonderland and player who just recently entered twst? Unaware that they're considered as a "god" (not cannibal pls)

Like, the player is shy and quiet at first but if they get comfortable enough with someone they'll be more talkative and a lil' extroverted?

The not cannibal pls had me laughing, I really turned the player into this man-eater huh lol. Can't really write that much about reader so I'll just feed you some irrelevant crumbs.

The whole campus is probably still in a mess despite your diet though. Students fight against each other out of jealousy to drag each other down so that you can focus more on them.

Riddle and Azul's rivalries are the funniest. Especially because Riddle finally notices how capable Azul is in doing better than him now (maybe not academically lol). Truly they both are almost like carbon copy in your eyes.

Leona and Vil walk side by side dissing each other while presenting themselves as a complete 180 to you.

Idia shaking in his boots trying to appear less giddy and anxious in your eyes while Kalim just sings songs as he hops his way to you with his gold jingling merrily.

Malleus is very straightforward about his wish to worshipping you, even going as far as to kneel down immediately upon you noticing him while Lilia just casually wraps his arm around you, acting all buddy-like while savoring the closeness between you two. Malleus is jealous, petty jealous of him.

In your eyes, you just feel like you are just some transmigrated protagonist in a romance game, unaware of how sinister their feelings are toward you, their player, their God.

But it turns out that their God is quite the humble one huh? They don't pride themselves on their holiness, they don't differentiate their treatment from one another (unless you are biased) and they are actually very quiet and collected!

It takes a lot of prying to finally see you pay attention to them and laugh at the jokes Ace and Deuce crack. It takes effort for the beastmen for you to finally feel how fluffy their ears are! Jack's tail is wagging so hard that Ruggie had to step on it.

It takes lots of convincing acts and guilt-tripping for Jade to make you visit Mostro Lounge and enjoy the drinks Floyd specifically makes for you, the prettiest and most delicious drinks you've ever had!

It takes a lot of effort for Cater to finally have you posing for the selfies he takes with you! It takes a lot of time for Trey to finally know which treats gain your attention and suits your liking after making shit tons of them.

It takes a lot of guilt-tripping from Jamil to make you finally attend one of the feasts Kalim throws for you and oh boy was it grand.

It's not hard for Epel to win your attention because of how cute he is lol. But it sure is hard for him to gain your trust that he's just a boy. Rook on the other hand creeps you out so much that you have to tell him to stop and that indirectly means you finally notice him!

It takes lots of convincing from Ortho to finally make you agree to play with him in the board game club that Idia and Azul are in. You finally know just how normal they are when they are playing, yes, normal (they are literally fighting teeth and nails to win it).

It takes a lot of effort for Sebek not to scream around you while Silver tries his best not to doze off on your shoulder. The first time being close to you instantly made him fall asleep soundly while Sebek had to sing praises for you in a voice that could shake the ground.

It was easy for Neige to warm into you because well, he's kind, sweet, and all but he has this protagonist aura to him unlike those NRC boys (except Silver and Kalim). He loves singing for you!

It was also easy for Chen'ya to get into your funny side by pulling countless harmless pranks on you (unlike Ace who has to try hard, again, RSA aura).

Rollo on the other hand worships you like there's no tomorrow. He's great at masking it as something far from obsession and not creeping you away unlike Malleus but he certainly has a shrine dedicated to you in his room too. A bit small if compared to the fae's.

Bonus: Fellow and Gideon scaring you because of how weird they are but Gideon manages to melt your heart so you decide to trust Fellow.

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yrenesbrainrotss · 2 months ago

Note

Loved the part where yandere ENA entered female reader's bedroom and brushed a few strands off of her face 🥰

If it's ok, could I ask for headcanons of what (obsessed) ENA does while her darling is asleep? Thank you so much for answering!

A/N: Hiii I also love yandere ENA smmm!!! Maybe cus i need a lot of reassurance in my relationships but oh well. I am really proud of how this came out and I hope you will love it as much as I do!

Enjoy yall its wild💘

•summary: yan!ENA who loves watching you sleep + extra scenario!!

•warnings: obsessive behavior,stalking,unconsenual behavior,mentions of violence,possessiveness overall yandere behavior, suggestive behavior.

•reader pronouns: not rlly mentioned but reader has a female body

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

~pt 2 of yan!ENA~

The room is silent, save for the faint hum of the night outside and the soft rhythm of your breathing. The moonlight spills in through the sheer curtains, casting a pale glow across your resting form. You’re blissfully unaware, deep in slumber—peaceful.

ENA watches your vulnerable form resting with a hunger nestled in her triangular eyes,absorbing you,drinking you with just her gaze,set on your the raising and falling of your chest with a bone-crushing weight .

Slowly, reverently, she allows herself to kneel beside you. Her soft mitten hand pulls the covers down enough to reveal your chest and abdomen. Your black lace top is lifted just below your breasts,exposing your hot skin to the cool air in the room. She bites her lip in a silent awe,inhaling a sharp breath “It appears as if you’re the one inviting me in dear.. how can you sleep so peacefully knowing you tempt me like this…” “Do you even know how hard it is for me to refrain from keeping you away from everyone?!?!”ENA’s cheek soon finds your stomach, and she sighs—utterly content—as her red fingers sink gently into your skin, feeling the warmth radiating from you. She nuzzles her pale side in closer, burying herself in the softness, inhaling like she’s trying to memorize the way you smell, like it’s her only tether to reality.

Her pale hand traces the curves of your waist, following every dip, every delicate line. Her claws move like she’s reading a map only she understands. There’s no urgency—just quiet obsession, a greedy kind of tenderness. She brushes her fingertips up, along the slope of your ribs, pausing just beneath your chest as if deciding whether to trespass further.

Then, her attention shifts.

Your face—so relaxed in sleep. She leans in, brushing a polygonal thumb over your cheekbone, then down, outlining the gentle bow of your lips. She lingers there. Tempted by the pink hue of your full lips.Her pale fingers hover near your mouth, then press lightly, tracing the seam of your lips, slow and deliberate.

“You don’t even know how perfect you are like this,” she whispers, voice barely more than a breath. “you look so mine.” “It’s not going to be very long until you realize how perfectly we complete each other..”

ENA’s words hang in the air, swallowed by the stillness of the room drenched in darkness. She watches your lips twitch slightly in your sleep, and it makes her smile,lowering her head to your exposed neck. Her lips part to reveal sharp teeth, grazing the soft sensitive muscle of your neck and moving down to your collarbone,biting softly.

The brunette sits up slightly, just enough to lean over you, slipping down the sheets covering your body to reveal more skin to her hungry eyes. Her carmine hand travels downward again, slow, like she’s savoring each inch of exposed flesh. Her touch isn’t meant to wake you—no, she’s far too careful for that. She wants this moment untouched by your awareness. This is hers. Her secret. Her ritual.

She presses a kiss just above your hipbone, slow and lingering. Then another. And another.

Each kiss a silent promise. Or maybe a warning.

Her lips curve into a smile against your skin. You shift slightly, murmuring something incoherent in your sleep, and she freezes—tense—but when you settle again, her smile returns. Wider this time. Almost pleased. She knew the medication would take effect fast, you were fragile, that’s why you needed her—to protect you. Who knows what could happen to you.. you were naive, talking to every stranger, offering kindness to everyone.

She slides her fingers along your thigh now, up and down in slow, thoughtful strokes. A mix of lust but also possession swirls in her crazed wide eyes.

“You have no idea, do you?!” she murmurs. “How many nights I’ve been watching you like this!? You really are an idiot… always too dumb to care about your safety.. But it’s okay, it’s my job to take care of you..”

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

Sometimes she would search around the room for any trace of stuff that was used by you. ENA would slowly open up your lingerie drawer and inspected anything that might show her you worn the undergarment that day. She would crumple it in her fist and bring it up to her face-inhaling deeply, eyes rolling back at your unique scent. In a hurry she stuffs the piece of clothing in the back pocket of her green suspenders and would hover over your bed once more, before she would leave. Her sharp claws would brush the stray hairs splayed on your pillow, barely grazing you plump cheeks. The whisper of her shaky voice muttering soft praising words but not limited to threaths “You belong to me, dear. That’s not a threat—it’s just a little… lifetime guarantee.” or “Im quite good at finding what belongs to me… you should know I always close the deal..”

You spending alone time ends up in ENA watching your every move.You walk into an old library, searching for new books to occupy your mind in this weird realm. The languages that the books have been written in don’t make any sense to you,but you think that anything is better than complete silence—you needed to occupy your mind either something,since your stress has been increasing after a few odd nights.

You have been sleeping very profoundly for some time, but even so it felt like you could not rest at all,strange dreams and also nightmares kept your mind awake but not also your body. It was always the same, a familiar voice, a familiar shadow peeking through your eyelids,close enough for you to feel their breath and presence over you.

You thought that tiredness was making a fool out of you,giving you paranoic thoughts,nowadays your tasks kept piling up and so you would be more exhausted than usual.

What you didn’t notice was you were being stalked,watched from afar, a chuckle escaped ENA’s lips amused by your obliviousness, you didn’t even see her follow you on the way here—you really were naive.

From another coffee table she would bore her gaze in your direction, occasionally frowning or snarling when the librarian asked you about the book you were reading. She couldn’t stand it, they were taunting her, showing how they could approach you in the light but ENA couldn’t, having to quench her thirst for you by stalking you in the dark night.

Before even realizing she was walking she already reached your table, you perked up when you saw her standing behind you ” ENA! It’s so great to see you here! Are you searching for something to do in your free time too?” Gods you were cute. Your sparkling eyes and innocent smile made her want to strangle the librarian next to you, but she couldn’t- not with you here, ENA didn’t want to scare you away or worse, make you fear her.

ENA nodded, glaring at the peasant next to you with a strained smile who could sense the deadly aure she was emitting. He muttered a small apology and asked you to excuse him, eyes fearfully locked into ENA’s sharp ones and scurried away almost dropping the chair he previously sat on. The dual colored entity claimed her place on the chair next to you and smiled sweetly at you, who just started rambling about this bizare book you were reading at the moment. Her mitten hand supported her chin and still having her lips curled up, sighing at your glowing aura as you spoke about the contents of the book.

Oh how she wished to keep you all to herself, safe and warm, next to her at all times, even if she has to do some nasty things to get there, starting with the librarian. You hadn’t picked up on his body language or the shy loving glimpses he would give you, but she did— and ohh.. she would take care of him.

“…..ENA? Hey…. are you alright..?” ENA woke up from her internal monologue, face relaxed when she met your beautiful curious eyes—she didn’t even realize how tense her face was or that she was frowning.

“…um y-yes..?” she lifted her head in your direction and replied nervously. “I feel like you’re not even listening to me ENA! C’mon you’re my best friend!” you exclaimed loudly, earning a few weird looks from the other people in the library.

“N-no…! No! Sincerest apologies... can you please continue you remained at the part where the main character was…” her lips parted to speak. She lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair from your face behind your ear,a gesture that made you flush a pale shade of pink.

She would make you see her,even if she would have to force you she would make you love her as much as she did. After all, where else could you go when everyone else was gone?

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

#ena dream bbq #ena x reader #x reader #ena joel g #writers on tumblr #answered

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cxrsed-angel · 4 months ago

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Long Distance Calls| Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut

summary: You call Eddie for you routine phone dates, since you're away at a college and it elevates to phone sex. (late 80s/ early 90s college AU)

warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation (Both m and f), use of a dildo. dirty talk, pet names, (lmk if I forgot anything please)

wc: 2k

a/n: Im in college and was missing Eddie so this was the result and wrote this. Sorry for the shitty header. not proof read or beta read

You lay on your twin XL bed in your dorm, lying on your sheets, on your stomach, fidgeting with the pink phone cord on your pink barbie phone you've definitely outgrown, but your dad said if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, so it came along with you to college. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand.

You’ve moved a few hours away for college, and since then, you and Eddie have had to get creative with how you spend time together. You would have date calls a few times a week, and then on the three-day weekends or breaks, you would drive up to Hawkins to hang out, or he would drive to you.

You wait impatiently for Eddie's call, glancing at the clock on the nightstand of your dorm room again, back at the phone, then at the phone, counting the seconds until 10:30 PM. The moment you hear your pink Barbie childhood phone ring at 10:30 PM, right on time, the clock showing 10:30 PM, you pick up, immediately answering.

“Eddie?” you answer, responding faster than usual, too excited, honestly. You really missed Eddie this week. Nothing particularly bad happened this week. You just wished you weren't 5+ hours away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you hear his voice greet you, and you immediately start smiling. The familiar pet name makes your heart race, and even though he says it all the time, you still feel giddy hearing it.

“Hey Eddie, how was your day?” you ask as you lay in your college dorm bed, the phone in your bed so you're more comfortable. You grab your brown teddy bear, holding it closely. It's the teddy bear he had given you for your one-year anniversary. You hold on to it as he starts sharing about his day.

“Well, it was pretty boring at the shop. I fixed some cars, the usual. But then I got home to the trailer, and Wayne told me I got a small package from you. Now, I thought it was your usual package with cute little gifts and pictures and stuff, but I was surprised when it was a little naughtier than the usual package from you.”

Since you’ve gone away to college, you send each other little care packages, small gifts, pictures of things you did that month, letters, small candies, and stuff like that every now and then.

You frown, trying to remember what you sent since it has been a while since you sent it, but when it comes back, you feel flustered as you remember. You were particularly horny that month, a few days before your period started, and really missed Eddie, so you decided to take some explicit Polaroids while your roommate was away, it was just supposed to be you in some lingerie and suggesting poses, but with your mood, it escalated to photos of you enjoying a toy. A few with the dildo in your mouth sticking out tongue, and you got a little carried away taking some with your pussy wet evident you had cum while the dildo was on display covered in your arousal.

You smile, flustered. “Oh, did you enjoy it?” you ask, a bit embarrassed, wondering if you had gone too far. You hear him laugh through the phone.

“Did I enjoy it? Baby, I just opened it and almost came in my jeans. I had to call you and hear your voice. I liked the letter you added, gushing about how much you missed me and wanted me to touch you all over, rubbing my hands along your body and eating that pretty pussy of yours. You were really horny, huh, babe.”

You nod, feeling yourself getting wetter at his words and the memory of taking all those photos and how you fucked yourself hard on the dildo, thinking of him wishing it was him. “Yeah, Eds, I was-must’ve been ovulating or something,” you laugh lightly, joking as you feel your body getting hotter.

Eddie hmms, obviously condescendingly, teasing you. “Aww, poor baby. Is your roommate there.”

“No, she is visiting her family for the weekend.” You hear ruffling through the phone speaker for a few minutes before hearing his voice again.

“You must’ve really wanted a baby in you sweetheart, because god. These pictures are killing me. You look so sexy posing for me like this. Fuck.” You're quiet as you hear a rhythmic movement through the phone, and once you hear Eddie quiet moaning.

“Eddie, are you jerking off?” you ask, already knowing the answer. You set the phone down, take your shirt off, and slide your shorts off before picking up the phone again. “Hell yeah, I am, sweetheart. I couldn't help it once I saw that one picture of your pussy wet and swollen from fucking yourself. He grunts as you hear his hand rubbing his shaft.

Your own fingers slip under your shorts and underwear, rubbing your fingers along your wet folds, getting more aroused hearing your boyfriend get off. “You're touching that pretty cunt of yours, got a finger or two circling around your sensitive clit, huh? Imaging it was mine and having my cold rings touching you?”

You nod as your fingers move a bit faster around your wetness, imagining they were his fingers, thicker and rougher compared to yours. Feeling his cold rings against your clit. You close your eyes as the phone rests against your shoulder. You let out breathy moans as you think of the countless times Eddie fingered you when you were back in Hawkins. In his van, under the table while he was waiting for the rest of the party to join the campaign, against a wall at the renaissance fair. You could go on.

“C’mon princess, this only works when we’re both vocal. I know I have a huge, active imagination, but it can only go so far. Need you tell me whatcha you’re doing over there.” His voice brings you back to the call as a rush of heat floods your body, you’re head getting foggy a little by your arousal.

You nod even though he can't see. “Sorry baby, your voice is just really sexy.” You hear Eddie’s deep chuckle from the speaker for a bit before his moan replaces it.

“ ‘Are you touching my girl for me since I can't be there?” You nod as your face flushes as he refers to your pussy as “his girl.” You pretend to be annoyed when he does it, but you love it. It never fails to make you wet. Your fingers continue circling your cunt as you hear his moans and the sound of Eddie pumping his hard cock.

“Yeah, Eddie, I am. It feels good, but I want you,” you beg and whine as you continue touching yourself to Eddie's sounds.”

“She’s missing me, huh? Sounds so fucking pretty, baby, wanna talk to her? Put her on the phone for me, princess.” he groans after speaking a string of curse words coming out under his moans. Your fingers pause, stopping you to turn to look at the phone, confused about what he had just asked.

“Wh-what?” You're met with Eddie’s laugh before he answers.

“I wanna speak to my girl. Put her on, let me hear her.” you pause for a minute, and you nod your head before slowly putting the receiver to your pussy, slipping your fingers in and out, slowly letting Eddie hear the lewd sounds of you finger fucking yourself.

“Oh fuck��there she is, sounds so fucking good, bet she's all puffy and needy and soaking for me, huh, begging to be fucked.” Eddie moans as you hear him stroking his cock through the receiver. You swear it was the hottest sound. You loved hearing him.

“Miss you so much, Eddie, fuck…fuck me.” You whine, begging for him. The phone is still close to your cunt, letting Eddie speak to “her.”

“Fuck I miss her so much, baby, see her in my dreams. God, listen to her, soaking for me isn't she.” You hear his arousal through the speaker, imaging his leaky cock, wishing you could taste him.

“Eds, I wish I could suck your cock, so bad.” You whine and hear Eddie let out another moan.

“Yea baby? Fuck wish you could too. Shit princess, ‘got that dildo I sent you?” you nod, humming in agreement as you sit up a bit.

“Go get it, baby wanna hear how you use it. How you fuck yourself with it.”

“Okay, hold on.” You set the phone down on your bed before hopping off the twin XL bed, going over to your drawer, and grabbing the dildo you have hidden under a pile of socks, along with a bottle of lube.

“I got it.” you pick up the phone, pulling your underwear down your thighs, taking them off, and tossing them somewhere down on your bed. Waiting for Eddie to respond, but you’re met with gasps and groans and the pornographic wet sounds of his hand moving up and down his shaft. Clearly, he didn't hear you.

“Eddieeee, this only works when we both talk,” you repeat his words earlier, getting his attention. You hear him let out one deep groan before he talks to you.

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart, just looking at the picture of your soaking cunt, and its killing me, babe.” you feel yourself getting wetter as you remember the day you took the polaroid.

“You got the toy? Rub it over your pretty pussy. Get it wet for me.”

You listen, grabbing the toy and rubbing it along your slit, covering it in your wetness, teasing yourself with it. The size and length are almost exactly like Eddie’s. You remember seeing Eddie’s face light up when he spots the “Clone-A-Willy” box in the sex shop in Indianapolis, and you remember when he snuck it into your dorm desk drawer while you were moving into your dorm with a pink bow tied around the box and a note. “Not the real thing, but a close second - Eds.” You moan as you slowly rub the head of the toy along your wet folds.

“Jesus-fuck, you sound so good, baby. Go ahead and put it in for me, baby. I Can hear her begging for it over the phone? She’s been so good suffering all this time without me, go ahead and fuck for me.”

You nod, listening to him, slowly sliding the toy inside you. You let out a moan as you push the toy in deeper. You still missed Eddie, feeling his hand grip on your waist as he’s inside you, the way he kisses your chest as he thrusts into you, or the way he would move your leg onto his shoulder fucking deeper inside you. Or when he would manhandle you, flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass was up, the sting you’d feel when he would plant a few spanks onto it.

But the fact that it was a model of his cock, did help, you moan, feeling the familiar stretch of his thickness inside you.

“Fuck Eddie!” You cry out his name as you continue fucking the dildo into your pussy, the phone lying on the side of your head as you lean back on your pillows, moving it deeper inside you. “Jesus Christ, you sound perfect, like an angel fuck baby. Go on fuck yourself for me, sweetheart.”

You move the toy faster in and out of your achy hole while you’re other hand rubs your clit, the sounds of Eddie jerking off making you wetter.

“Fuck Eddie, I miss you. I miss you so much.“ You moan louder into the phone, getting closer to your release, more from Eddie's moans than anything else, honestly.

“I know, baby, I miss you too, shit. Miss you so fucking much, sweetheart.” He grunts before moaning more, “Goddamn honey, Im…Im about to-“.

You hear eddies moans through the receiver you can tell he's cumming by the sounds of his moans, the string of curses he lets out, and how he gasps before groaning loudly. You can practically see his hard pretty cock spilling his cum onto his hand, probably his stomach too. You wish you could be there, wish he was spilling his cum into you.

You move the dildo and continue to fucking yourself, getting closer as your fingers rub your clit a bit faster, closing your eyes, imagining Eddie hovering over you fucking your deeply, moving your leg over his shoulder, feeling his balls against your pussy.

“E-Eddie…” you whine into the phone, getting closer.

“You close, baby? I can tell, I can hear it. Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me hear her.” Eddie’s voice sends you over the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over you, moaning eddies name over and over. You open your eyes, coming down from your release, dropping the dildo somewhere on your bed. You breathe heavily, grabbing the phone and putting it back to your ear. “Eddie?” you call him through the phone, and all you hear is Eddie’s laugh.

“Sweetheart, that was so hot, Jesus Christ. Next weekend I’m coming up there and fucking you in that shitty twin XL all day.” you laugh a bit, sitting up in your bed, you twirling the cord line around your finger and glancing at the brown teddy bear.

“Promise?” You light up at the thought of spending time with him, seeing him, and hearing his voice in person, touching him. “Yep, I'm taking Friday off, so I can drive up on Thursday and spend the whole weekend with my girl, well, my girls.” You hear him laugh as you hear him shuffling through the phone You roll your eyes at him and his personification of your pussy. You shift, holding the phone with your shoulder as you grab your blanket, pulling it over your legs. “Do you have to go now, or can you talk for a bit?” You ask Eddie, hoping he doesn't have to hang up. You really did miss talking to him.

“No baby, I'm yours all night.”

#angel writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson drabble

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lidiasloca · 9 months ago

Text

azriel knows when you need help

azriel x reader

“Enjoying yourself?”

You turn to the raspy voice that’s broken your dancing rhythm. Usually, you would cut them off just as they had your moment, but the male you find when you turn seems rather familiar.

“Markus!” You move to hug your Illyrian friend. It has been years since you last saw him, and he is… changed—far more handsome than the young boy you had met in the Illyrian camps.

“Hello, you,” he smiles, hugging you back. “You are…” he says, taking a step back to look you up and down. “Wow.”

You laugh, conscious of the blush creeping up your cheeks. “How long has it been?” you ask, eager to change the flustering topic.

“Too long,” he responds. “I’m so glad to see you again. I thought I would never get to see my childhood crush again.”

“Oh. Shut up!” you mumble nervously. Yes, you had known about it—it was a rather famous rumor around your group. But it all had been a long time ago. You were another girl, and he was a very different boy from the male you have in front of you. “Well—and what have you been up to these years?”

“Oh. No. Let’s skip those formalities,” he says, as he places a warm hand on your arm.

You don’t really know how to take it, so you try matching his smile with a forced one. “What do you mean? I want to know…” You start growing uncomfortable when he starts stroking your arm up and down and his stare grows sharper, more flirtatious.

“Let’s go somewhere else, y/n.”

Before you can deny him, a furious tug deep inside you calls you. It feels like a punch, or a warning, like a call for help. You take it as a sign to escape this embarrassing situation.

No matter how handsome, you had never liked him back, and definitely, you didn’t now. It was another male you had only had eyes for—Markus knew that, yet he always tried to ignore it.

“I’m really enjoying the party,” you try as an excuse. “Maybe another time we can go for lunch with the group…”

“Oh, y/n, don’t be like this.” He urges you to get closer, forcing your arm towards him. “It’s been so long, you—we’ve changed so much. I’ve changed so much.”

“I—Markus, let go, please,” you say softly, trying to calm him.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his strength faltering, but still not letting go of you. “Y/n,” he tries again. “You cannot be serious. Deny me again? After all these years?”

“You know why, Markus,” you explain gently.

“No.” The male suddenly barks. “Ten fucking years and you’re still after Azriel. For fuck’s sake, get a grip, y/n. He doesn't want you.”

Another tug in your heart, harder and more alarming. But you give no attention to it as your eyes start swelling with tears at his words.

“Let go,” you say again, this time loud and clear, with contained fury. “Let go, I won’t ask you again, Markus.”

“Unbelievable,” he laughs. “You are just as stupid as you were back then.”

Another tug. More intense, as if getting closer.

“Shut up, Markus! And let go! Now!”

“Is everything okay?” a boy at the bar comes to ask, his eyes on Markus' forcing grip.

“Yes. Everything is okay. Leave us alone,” Markus barks, making him storm away without a word.

“Markus. Calm down, you are not in your right mind,” you try saying calmly. “Let go, please.”

“Don’t try that with me. I’m not sixteen anymore, y/n.”

“Let go of her,” a voice behind Markus orders—a voice you could recognize anywhere.

“I told you to leave us,” Markus replies, not even caring to turn to him.

The male walks in front of Markus and orders again: “Let go, now.”

“Azriel,” he says in fear, instantly letting go of you. “I—”

“Get out.”

It takes Markus less than a second to turn and run to the door. The exact time it takes for Azriel to quickly turn to you and assess you. “Are you alright, y/n?”

You can only nod, feeling his hands softly tracing the marks Markus had left from his harsh grip.

“Can I get you to Majda? Just to check you. Please,” he asks, and it sounds like a plead. You have to look somewhere else at the intensity of his worried stare on you.

“Y/n. Please. Say something.”

“Alright.”

He smiles softly as if thanking you. “Let me fly you there,” he tells you, offering his hand to accompany you outside the bar.

But you don’t take it. You just stare at him as a question rumbles soundly inside your head.

“What is it?” he asks.

“You—you were on a mission away from the court,” you explain, not really helping clear out his confusion. “Why are you here?”

He stays silent for a second, and you see the doubt in his eyes. “I came to help you,” he replies at last.

“But how did you know I was here? How did you know I needed help?”

“I just knew. I felt it.”

Before you can ask how, there it is again—that feeling.

A tug on your soul.

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

a/n: lovelies, i would love to talk about anything acotar (or other books) 💓 i would really love it if you sent something to my inbox—it makes tumblr so much more entertaining! 🎀

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #az imagine #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster

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celtrist · 5 months ago

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RADIOMOTH BAD END ROUTE

In these endings, it's more or less assumed Alastor has gotten out of his deal (if the route doesn't involve his owner)

TW: Gender Dysphoria, Forced feminization, Physical Abuse, Slight Non-con elements, Conditioning, Stockholm Syndrome

In this ending, Vaggie successfully catches Alastor and marries him, much like Charlie's bad end (and this one, like her, can have the option of Charlie also being married to them or not). Depending on whether you want to go the force transitioning route: Alastor either gives up once Vaggie successfully forces a transition surgery onto him or (if you don't want to go that route) he just gives up, too tired to fight Vaggie and her traps.

Transition or not, Vaggie dresses him as a woman, forces him to grow his hair out, and just generally takes on a more feminine appearance. She goes as far as to rename him "Alison" and only refers to him as female in public. In private, she will at times refer to him as a male, but in the past tense and in a degrading way. She makes it a point to make sure he doesn't have his antlers. Whenever they start growing back, Alastor panics and hurries to rip them off before Vaggie sees them. It's painful, but always less painful than when Vaggie does it, as she's very violent with her approach. She will sometimes hit him for having antlers or even for seeing signs that they've regrown.

Anytime Alastor remarks discomfort with himself, Vaggie gets frustrated and berates him about it. When she notices him turning to accidental self-harm to deal with his discomfort (hair pulling, claw scratches, etc.), she admonishes and at times hit him as well (like if he pulls his hair, she'll pull his hair, yelling at him "isn't this what you like?").

Vaggie hides this poor behavior from Charlie (whether or not she's still in a relationship with Charlie or not in this route) and forces Alastor to keep quiet about it as well. If he gives any indication otherwise, she will punish him in private.

While I'm not sure if Alastor would or would not have all his bells and whistles (I feel like it would make sense in this route if Vaggie would find a way to "depower" him to make him easier to handle, but not sure how she'd do that. Maybe have him drinking diluted holy water over time? Alastor, more or less, has just given up on this route. He doesn't feel like he can do much else and is unmotivated to attack back.

It's not uncommon in the private sensual moments for her to get violent and belittle Alastor, and how she's the only one who would love a woman like him. In the case of a transitioning route, Vaggie will taunt him about having used to be a man. And if Alastor gives an indication that he wishes he had never transitioned, she will taunt him more and abuse him further until he says he's happy to be a woman. These more violent times occur when Alastor begins to show distress, typically for either the sex or his forced gender, but not exclusive to those. She will lightly degrade him when she's not angry, too, but it's mixed with sweet words as well. Giving him a whiplash of treatment. Most sensual times Vaggie does genuinely try to be nice and try to find what Alastor likes (whether he likes it or not). It's when Vaggie is already angry or frustrated with Alastor that she gets more abusive in these moments.

Vaggie isn't really abusing Alastor 24/7 (well, other than enforcing an unwanted gender identity and relationship, I suppose). Anything nice she would do for Charlie, she'd do for Alastor. Surprising him with things that he doesn't expect (like sinner meat or masculine clothing) is one of her favorite ways to show affection to see the brief light in his eyes from the gift.

Vaggie is as protective of Alastor as she is of Charlie, and she is also as very loving of him as she is of her. Vaggie will shower Alastor with genuine compliments, even in private sometimes she just wants to shower Alastor with love rather than any sort of abuse. Whenever Alastor does something particularly good (like introducing himself as Alison the first couple of times and holding her hand out of his own volition), she'll praise him and reward him for it. Vaggie takes more into consideration of attire for Alastor rather than what she just wants to see. While she still puts Alastor in "less than Alastor-styled" outfits from time to time, those clothes are mainly for private or special occasions. For the most part, Vaggie gives (and allows) Alastor clothes more up his alley, even suits as long as he still looks feminine enough.

While Vaggie will get violent with Alastor for showing discomfort with his forced gender, she normally first tries to comfort and praise Alastor about his body and self. It's when Alastor begins getting more upset that she'll get more abusive. She will always follow up her actions with comfort for Alastor. This would, I can imagine, grow into a Stockholm syndrome situation, especially if Alastor wanted to deny the situation he's in.

EDIT: I just wanted to note that I have toned down elements to this ending! It's not revamped, but I just thought I'd mention it as the more perverse elements for this ending didn't really add too much and felt needed to be added. But I did want to acknowledge this ending was a tad darker than it is described here!

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thinkingotherwise · 4 months ago

Note

Was thinking maybe a wind breaker boys (you can choose who the only one that needs to be there is Suo) reacting to a reader that instinctively laughs when hurt. Like maybe they get punched by someone at some point in a fight and they just burst out laughing. Not like in an edgy way they can tell that reader is in pain but they just automatically laugh (ik it's kinda weird).

I was thinking about the plot and how to make it, and then I remembered that Taiga lets someone get the first hit in, and somehow I thought about the below thing.

Hayato Suo, Hajime, Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Choji Tomiyama, Minoru Kanuma, Yukinari Arima, Toma Hiiragi, Jo Togame, Ren Kaji how would they react if reader laughed after getting punched

You stumbled back a few steps, hand going up to cover your mouth and cheek. You massaged the place the guy's fist just bruised, opening and closing your jaw twice before a small chuckle escaped you. When you raised your head to glance at the man before you, you couldn't help it. His self-satisfied look made you laugh harder as you tried to cover your mouth and calm down.

The few people closest to you stopped to stare blankly at you, thinking you were out of your mind. It hurt like hell even if it wasn't the strongest punch, but you couldn't stop it. In the end, the hit surely looked stronger than it felt, so you decided to help him out.

"You know it was a little weaker because you didn't use your whole body." You started moving your own fist back and doing the hitting motion. Your voice was wavering, with a few giggles escaping you and that made the rest of people around turn towards you.

"If you move your whole upper body, you gain momentum, which you can use to your advantage later on when fighting." You continued coming closer to the guy and holding your fists high. You pulled your right hand back, your hips following, turning to the side.

"Like that." You demonstrated the punch, and somehow, you went all out because soon, the guy in front of you was lying on the ground, unconscious.

Your mouth opened in shock, letting out a light 'oh' before you laughed once more. The ridiculous situation made you bend slightly forward. Your unstoppable laughter echoed through the place; you just couldn't help it.

Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya

He looked at you the moment he heard you. First, he thought about how you were in trouble, but then when his eyes focused on you, trying to see what exactly happened, he didn't know if he should feel relieved you were alright or worried because why were you laughing.

After beating up the people in front of him, he got you a handkerchief and stepped closer to wipe the blood from under your nose. His gaze was observant, calculating in his head what caused this burst of emotion out of you.

Seeing as you didn't calm down but still chuckled to yourself, he decided only to pat your head twice. He would interrogate you about what happened when you get out of there. When your joyful attitude kept on going, he pushed your head downwards, trying to hide your behaviour from others.

Choji Tomiyama, Minoru Kanuma and Yukinari Arima

He was quick to join you, his voice mixing with yours as the both of you laughed loudly. He heard you and approved of your actions, commented stuff like, "He really needs to take some lessons." or "My punches are stronger even half asleep." He also proposed to wait till the guy woke up so that he could show him the correct stance as well.

Others definitely looked at the two of you as if they saw a pair of sociopaths. They steered clear of your way through the rest of the fight, keeping an eye on you.

Later on, as he learned that you react like that whenever you get hurt, he looked at you strangely and nodded continuously, his brain having trouble understanding how that worked.

Haruka Sakura, Toma Hiiragi

He thought you were crazy. What kind of person teaches a guy who is fighting them how to hit better? Really, he knew he couldn't understand you at times, but this was something else.

While fighting the rest of the group, he was doing that absentmindedly, his mind fully on you. "Who taught you that and why?" The question repeated in his mind.

After, he would sit you down in front of him and talk you through a little lecture about how you should teach others, who you recognize as enemies, how to fight.

Deep inside, he did find the whole situation funny but would never tell you that.

Jo Togame, Ren Kaji

Hearing your laughter, he glanced at you, weirded out, but not because of why you did that. It was because he should be the one to behave like that. He believed that you weren't feeling well to do such things.

He was wondering if it was his influence that got you like that and if you took after him. Was he showing too much of his unhinged side in front of you during fights, and you adapted his behaviour?

He quickly found his way to you and asked all about why you were laughing and if you were okay. Hearing about your habit and asking why he thought you would get it from him, he sighed in relief. He didn't need to worry about you catching more of his strange manners. He needed a few more minutes to fully understand what you said to him, but he was fine as long as you wouldn't turn out like his mad side.

#wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker x reader #hayato suou x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura x reader #choji tomiyama x reader #minoru kanuma x reader #yukinari arima x reader #toma hiiragi x reader #jo togame x reader #ren kaji x reader

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daeniradraconis · 1 month ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Hey, lovelies! ✨

Here it is — Chapter 2 of Eli and William’s story. This part dives deep into one of the heaviest moments in their journey, and it includes some serious emotional content. Please make sure to read the trigger warnings below, and don’t hesitate to skip this chapter if it feels like too much. Your well-being always comes first. 💛

I know this chapter might feel a bit slower, but that’s intentional. I really wanted to take the time to show what William has been going through during these five years while Eli’s been in a coma. It's raw, it’s painful, and yes — it’s super angsty — but I hope it helps you connect even more deeply with their story.

Thank you for reading, and as always, I appreciate you all so much. 🫶🏼

Themes/Warnings: Hannah Elise Hughes x William Nylander, discussion of injury, coma, emotional distress, depression, suicidal thoughts

Chapters: 01, 02

Chapter 2: The Weight of Silence

The hospital was cold. Not just the air — the whole place felt cold, like it was made to hold grief and pain in every corner. The sterile white walls, the harsh buzzing of fluorescent lights, the beeping of machines that were both too loud and too quiet at the same time. It all pressed in on them, suffocating in its calmness.

William’s body ached, the sharp pain of broken ribs pulling at his every breath, but it was nothing compared to the dull, endless throb inside him — the kind of ache that spread through his chest and tightened his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain of the accident, or if it was the agony of not knowing. Not knowing if you’d wake up. Not knowing if you were even still in there.

Around him, everyone else was just as broken.

Your mother couldn’t stop shaking. She kept wringing her hands, pacing the small waiting room with her head bent low, murmuring under her breath. “Please, please, please...” Her words were like a prayer — desperate, broken.

Jim was trying to hold it together. His hand was on her shoulder, but even he seemed hollow, like the weight of the world had crushed the strength out of him. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes — they were different, empty. They weren’t looking at anyone. They weren’t looking at anything.

Luke was sitting by the window, curled up in the same position he’d had since they arrived — his legs drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield. He wasn’t crying out loud, but his shoulders were shaking. Silent sobs, silent pain. It was too much for him. He was just a kid.

Jack wasn’t crying. He didn’t know how to. Instead, he stood across the room, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. His jaw was set in that angry line that everyone knew so well. His eyes kept darting to the door, like if he stared at it long enough, someone — anyone — would come in and tell them it was all some horrible mistake. That you’d be fine. But no one came. No one had anything to say.

Then there was Quinn. Quinn was the one who didn’t react. Not visibly. He stood with his arms crossed, his face still. It was like he was trying to distance himself from everything. He looked... controlled, but it wasn’t the kind of control that made things better. It was the kind that made everyone feel a little more alone.

William sat in one of the plastic chairs, head in his hands. He could still feel the impact — the screech of tires, the slam of metal against metal, the airbag exploding in his face. He could still hear your voice. Or at least, he thought he did, just before everything went black.

I’m sorry, he thought again, but the words didn’t come out. There was no one to say them to. No one could hear him. You were back there, in surgery, and he was here — broken, waiting, useless.

A soft click. The door to the waiting room opened, and a doctor stepped inside. He was tall, with dark hair, his eyes hidden behind the mask of professionalism. The second he walked in, everyone straightened up. It was like a collective breath was held, waiting for something to hold onto.

"Family of Hannah Elise Hughes?" the doctor asked, his voice measured, controlled. The room collectively held its breath, waiting.

Your mother rushed to him, eyes wide with desperate hope. "How is she? Is she okay?"

The doctor hesitated, and for a split second, it felt like the world had stopped moving — like the answer could change everything, could change the reality they were all facing. The words he said next were cold, clinical. “She’s stable. We’ve completed the surgery, and she’s been moved to intensive care.”

William’s chest tightened at the mention of surgery. It sounded too final. Moved to intensive care — those words clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake. It felt like everything was slipping through his fingers, like he was holding onto sand and the more he grasped, the faster it slipped away.

Your mother stepped forward, her breath catching in her throat. "But she’s going to wake up, right? She’ll be okay?"

The doctor’s face softened slightly, but there was something in his eyes that made William’s heart sink. He avoided your mother’s eyes and turned toward the rest of them. His voice remained steady. “Elise is in a coma. Her injuries were severe, and right now, it’s impossible to say when — or if — she’ll wake up.”

The words landed like a blow. William’s chest constricted, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The room spun slightly, as if his world was tilting, and nothing felt real. Impossible to say when, or if... The doctor’s words felt so final, as if there was no room for hope, no space for anything but the cold reality that had just been laid out for them.

“She sustained a traumatic brain injury during the accident,” the doctor continued. “There was significant swelling in the brain, which we are trying to control. She’s on a ventilator to assist with breathing. We’ll continue monitoring her vitals closely.”

William’s mind raced. Brain injury... swelling... ventilator... The words were like a language he couldn’t understand, but each one hit him harder than the last. He could feel the pressure building in his chest, suffocating him.

"Is there... any chance she'll—" Your mother’s voice wavered, breaking. She couldn’t finish the question. She didn’t have to. It hung in the air, unanswered.

The doctor took a slow breath. “It’s too early to say. We’re doing everything we can. Her body is strong, but the brain is delicate. We’ll need to see how she responds over the next 24 to 48 hours. There’s no guarantee.”

William’s stomach twisted painfully. No guarantee. Those words were the final nail in the coffin of any hope. His hands tightened into fists at his sides, his knuckles pale, his breath shallow. It felt like he was being smothered by the weight of it, like the hospital — the world itself — was caving in on him.

The doctor’s gaze lingered on him for just a moment, but William couldn’t meet his eyes. He couldn’t look at anyone. He felt like everything around him was fading, becoming distant, unreal. All he could think about was you, lying in that cold hospital bed, and how he had failed you.

Your father, Jim, was the next to speak, his voice thick with emotion. "What are the odds, Doc? What are the chances she’ll make it?"

The doctor hesitated. He shifted on his feet, clearly trying to find a way to say something that didn’t sound like a death sentence. “We don’t know yet. It depends on how her brain reacts to the swelling. If it begins to go down, there’s a chance she could regain consciousness. But again, there are no guarantees.” He paused, searching their faces. “The next few days are critical.”

William’s mind went blank. Critical. He felt his body go numb, like the ground had been pulled out from under him, and he was falling, sinking, with nothing to hold on to.

Ellen, her voice barely above a whisper, asked, “How long does she have? If the swelling doesn’t go down...?”

The doctor swallowed, his throat tightening. “We’ll do everything we can to manage the swelling, but if her brain doesn’t respond — if the pressure continues to build — there’s a chance the damage could be irreversible.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. William’s world spun in slow motion as the doctor’s words sank in. Irreversible. His vision blurred, the room swaying as if it were underwater.

There was a ringing in his ears, growing louder and louder, until it drowned out everything. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said quietly, and then, as if sensing that there was nothing more to say, he turned and left. His footsteps echoed down the hall as the door closed behind him, leaving the family standing in a kind of stunned silence.

William didn’t feel like he was even there anymore. He was floating, disconnected from everything. The words kept playing in his head, over and over. No guarantees. Critical. Irreversible. It was as if the doctor had delivered a death sentence, and William couldn’t escape it. He wanted to scream, wanted to beg, wanted to shake something — anything — to make it all stop.

But there was nothing. Nothing but the hollow ache in his chest, the guilt clawing at him, the cold reality that you were back there, lying in a bed with machines keeping you alive, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

He was lost. Utterly, completely lost.

—

The days had blurred together. The hospital no longer felt like a place they were just visiting. It had become the center of their world — sterile walls, plastic chairs, the constant hush of white noise, and machines that beeped in rhythm with a heartbeat belonging to someone who hadn’t opened their eyes in nearly a week.

William hadn’t left the hospital much, not for any real rest. He’d spent most of his time by your side, holding your hand, praying — though he didn’t know who or what he was praying to anymore. His ribs had started to heal, the pain dulling into a constant throb, but it didn’t matter. His chest was still heavy with the weight of everything. He was there, he was alive, but the thought of waking up tomorrow and not seeing your smile, or hearing your voice, made his chest tighten with panic.

He couldn’t bear the thought of this silence stretching on forever. No more little jokes between the two of you, no more teasing about who’s turn it was to do the dishes. No more hearing you hum absentmindedly when you were cooking, or laughing at something silly on TV. The idea of living in a world where those moments didn’t exist anymore… it was unbearable. He had no idea how to keep going without you. How could he?

Now, standing in your room with your brothers, he felt that same knot tightening in his stomach. The doctor had just left, his words as vague as they had been the first time. We’re still monitoring her. She’s healing. No change. The swelling in your brain had gone down, but the doctor couldn’t explain why you still hadn’t woken up. There were no answers, only questions. And the longer it went on, the more it ate at them all.

William looked around the room. Quinn stood by the window, arms crossed, gaze distant. Jack leaned against the wall, jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching like he was fighting something inside himself. Luke sat hunched in a chair near the corner, hoodie pulled over his head, eyes puffy and red.

Finally, Jack broke it. His voice was rough, tinged with frustration and an anger William had never seen in him before.

“She should be awake by now,” Jack said. His tone was low, but it cut like glass.

William didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on your hand, his fingers brushing over yours, careful and gentle. You were warm. That was all he had to hold onto.

“She’s in there. Somewhere,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Jack let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Yeah? You sure about that?”

He shoved off the wall with a jerk of his shoulder, crossing the room in three quick strides. The space between him and William evaporated.

“All I see is wires and machines and people pretending she’s still here, but no one wants to fucking say it.”

“Jack—” Quinn said quietly from the window, his back still turned.

“No.” Jack’s voice trembled now, rage rising to the surface. His hands clenched at his sides. “I’m sick of this. Sitting here like everything’s just gonna fix itself.”

He stepped closer to William, standing directly over him now — a shadow cast across the hospital bed. William felt the shift in the air, like a storm building.

“You were driving.”

William looked up slowly. He knew those words were coming — had been waiting for them — but hearing them out loud still made something twist in his chest.

Jack leaned down, pointing now, voice shaking with fury.

“You. Were. Driving. And if you hadn’t come into her life — if you’d just stayed the hell away — she’d still be fine. She wouldn’t be… this.”

Quinn finally turned, stepping forward, his jaw tight.

“Jack, stop!”

But Jack ignored him, eyes locked on William like he was daring him to flinch.

“No!” Jack barked, breath coming faster. His face was flushed, his whole body vibrating with pent-up grief and rage. “Everyone’s acting like this was just some tragic accident. Like it just happened.”

He gestured wildly toward the bed. “It didn’t. He happened.”

William didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His voice, when it came, was low and hoarse.

“You think I don’t know that?” he whispered. “You think I don’t wake up every five minutes hoping I was the one in that bed instead of her?”

Jack’s lip curled into a cruel smile as he stepped closer, but Quinn was faster—slipping between them and stopping him with a firm hand to the chest.

“Good,” Jack spat over Quinn’s shoulder. “You should feel that.”

“That’s enough!” Quinn snapped, pushing back against him. His voice was louder than it had been all week, sharp with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jack’s shoulders heaved as he tried to shove past, but Quinn held firm.

“She’s my sister!” Jack yelled. His voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. “And she’s gone! And I can’t do a damn thing about it!”

“And blaming Will won’t bring her back!” Quinn fired back. “So stop acting like you’re the only one who gives a damn!”

“Enough!”

Silence.

Thick. Suffocating.

But they all turned.

Luke sat curled into the hospital chair. His hoodie was pulled low, eyes red-rimmed but clear. He hadn’t spoken in days. But now, his voice had weight.

“I know you’re scared,” Luke said, lifting his head slightly to look at Jack. “I am too. But yelling doesn’t help. Blaming doesn’t help.”

He nodded toward the bed.

“She’s not waking up. And I don’t know why either — but this?” He looked between them. “This doesn’t fix anything.”

Jack stared at him, caught off guard, like someone had thrown a glass of cold water in his face.

Everyone was still. Listening now.

Luke turned to William.

“You didn’t do this on purpose,” Luke said, voice rough. “She loved you the most, Will. My sister—she chose you. She built her future around you. I remember those calls before the wedding… endless calls about invitation fonts, ribbon samples, napkin shades.”

He let out a broken laugh that caught in his throat. His eyes shimmered. “God, I hated those calls. Thought they were a waste of time. Just noise. But now…now I get it. She wasn’t fussing over details. She was dreaming. Piecing together a life. Your life. And she was so fucking happy doing it.”

He blinked hard, steadying his voice, but the tears slipped down anyway — silent, unstoppable.

“I’d give anything to hear one more of those dumb calls right now.”

William didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Luke looked back at Jack. “She needs all of us right now. And she’d be crushed to hear you blaming Will. You know how much she loved him. And us. This—” He gestured at the tension in the room. “This would break her heart.”

He looked away, then back, softer, lower, but no less fierce.

“You think you’re the one hurting most Jack? You’re not the one in that hospital bed.She is.”

He inhaled deeply, a shaky breath that barely steadied him. His gaze softened as he glanced toward his sister, but when it turned back to Jack, his eyes were unflinching.

“She’s the one who had her skull cut open. Who might not wake up. And if she does, there’s no promise she’s even still… her.”

He stared Jack down, voice low and sharp.

“So stop acting like you’re the one who lost everything. You didn’t.”

“And you,” Luke turned back to William, “need to stop blaming yourself. The other driver was drunk. You couldn’t have stopped that. But she’s still here. Still fighting. And she needs you. You don’t get to disappear into your guilt. Not now.”

The silence after Luke’s words didn’t fade—it settled. Not empty. Not gone. Just... quieter. Like something heavy had finally landed between them all.

The silence in the room stretched—no longer sharp, but fragile.

William’s hand was still wrapped around yours, and for the first time in days, he let the others see him. Not the version of him that had been holding it together, barely speaking, lost in the routine of machines and beeping monitors. But the real one—the shattered one.

He exhaled shakily, then lifted his head. His voice came low, rough with exhaustion and emotion.

“You’re right,” William said quietly.“I don’t get to disappear. And I don’t want to.”

He turned to face the three of them.

“I need you to know…” he started, but the words caught. He exhaled a shaky breath, eyes flicking up toward the ceiling as if the words might be easier to say if he didn’t have to see their faces. “I need you to know what it was like.”

His eyes dropped again, locking on Jack’s. Not in challenge. In grief. In need.

“I didn’t drink that night,” William said, quietly but clearly. “Not a sip. I remember everything. I kept both hands on the wheel, like I always do. I wasn’t on my phone, I wasn’t distracted. I wasn’t speeding—I wasn’t even pushing the limit. I checked the mirrors, I slowed at the yellow. I did everything right. I followed every rule, every instinct.”

“And it still happened. The headlights came out of nowhere.” He paused, his chest tightening. “We were laughing—God, she was laughing. Singing ‘Old Town Road,’ like she always did when that awful song came on the radio. Just being her.”

He inhaled sharply, fighting the memories. “I didn’t see the other car until it was too late. I swerved, slammed the brakes, but it was too fast. It hit us anyway.”

His head dropped.

“Eli lost consciousness just a few seconds after the crash. I saw it—her eyes… she tried to blink, like she was still there, still fighting. But then her eyes just… closed. And they didn’t open again.”

He stared at the floor for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath as he tried to gather himself. His gaze flickered toward her, but he quickly looked away, like seeing her that way would break him.

“The car…it landed right on top. I couldn’t reach her. The door had crushed in. Everything was twisted, jagged. I was stuck, pinned in place. And I didn’t know if she was alive. I couldn’t feel her pulse. I couldn’t hear her breathing.”

William’s throat tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the emotion threatening to overwhelm him.

“I just kept calling her name. Over and over. Yelling for her to wake up. But she didn’t.”

His voice dropped lower, barely a whisper, as if confessing a secret he couldn’t keep any longer.

“I started praying,” William said, his voice cracking. “Not for me. Not for any damn miracle for myself. I prayed that if she wasn’t coming back, if she was already gone, I wouldn’t have to stay here. I didn’t want to be in this world without her.”

He let the silence hang between them, the words heavy, suffocating in the room.

“ I couldn’t live in a world where she wasn’t there anymore.”

Quinn stepped closer, but didn’t touch him. Just stood beside him, steady. Listening.

“I love her so much,” William whispered. “More than anything. I would’ve married her a thousand times. I would’ve built a life with her in a shoebox if that’s all we had. I would’ve given up everything else just to see her happy. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And now she’s lying there, and I don’t know if she’s ever coming back.”

He turned his eyes back to the bed.

“I talk to her every night when you’re all asleep,” he said, voice soft again. “I tell her stories. Remind her of the stupid inside jokes. The time she burned the pancakes but said they were ‘extra caramelized.’ How she’d hum in the shower without realizing. I play her voice notes, just so the sound of her laugh fills the room.”

A tear slid down his cheek.

“I just... keep thinking maybe she’ll hear me. Maybe if I love her hard enough, she’ll come back.”

There was a long pause. Then Jack, who hadn’t moved since Luke had spoken, let out a breath like something inside him finally broke open.

He nodded once, slowly.

“I just—I’m so fucking scared,” Jack whispered, his voice breaking. He didn’t need to say more. William heard the fear, the desperation in his tone, and saw it in the hollow look in his eyes.

“Me too,” William replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The anger that had been there before was gone now. All that remained was the rawness of shared grief, shared fear. Luke stood, walking over to your side, his hand gently wrapping around yours, a silent promise. Quinn stepped forward, placing a hand on William’s shoulder, a gesture of support that held more weight than words ever could.

Jack stood a little further back, hands still clenched at his sides, but his gaze softened when it met William’s. He was still holding onto something, some part of the anger, but it was fading—slowly.

William took a steadying breath and, for the first time, spoke the words he’d been holding back for what felt like forever. “I’d die for her. But that won’t change a thing.” He paused, looking back at you. His voice softened. “I just need you with me when she wakes up. We need to be here for her. Together.”

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It wasn’t a silence of tension or anger. It was a silence of understanding.

Jack exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed on you for a moment before he nodded, his voice soft but certain. “Yeah. I think we can do that.”

—

One Year Later

The anniversary of the crash crept up on him like a storm, quietly gathering strength until it had him pinned beneath its weight. He should’ve seen it coming, but he didn’t. One year. A year since everything had shattered.

William had tried to go back to life like it was before. The games, the locker rooms, the routines. Everything had become a kind of blur of motion. Practice, meetings, games. He buried himself in it, because when he didn’t, the silence from the hospital, the weight of the empty spaces in his apartment, were unbearable.

The doctors had said you were healing. You were “fine” now. On paper. They said your body was healed, the swelling in your brain gone, that there was no reason for you not to wake up. But the truth was, nothing had changed. You still hadn’t opened your eyes. You still weren’t there. And every day, William pushed the truth deeper into himself, buried it somewhere in the back of his mind, where it couldn’t get out and strangle him.

Pablo and Banksy, the dogs you had left behind for him, were all that remained of you in the house. Every time he saw them, a sharp pang of guilt gripped him. He had promised you he would care for them, but they were a constant reminder of what was lost. He couldn’t understand how they kept going, their tails still wagging, waiting for a voice that would never return.

He should’ve been grateful for them. They should’ve been his reason to keep going. But some days, it felt like they were just another reminder of the gaping hole you had left in his life. He hadn’t felt truly alive in a year. He hadn’t felt right in so long. But every day, he plastered on a smile, showed up to practice, and went through the motions. He was playing well. At least that was something.

But tonight was different. Tonight, it felt like the walls were closing in. The weight of everything—his silence, his shame, his guilt—was finally starting to crush him. It was the anniversary of the crash. He could feel it pressing on his chest, a physical reminder that he hadn’t healed at all. Not really. He had just been pretending.

The dogs were lying at his feet, watching him with those innocent eyes, waiting for him to move. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was suffocating, like the world was too big and his place in it was too small.

He had no answers for the questions that kept swimming in his mind: What if I had done something differently? What if I hadn’t driven that night? What if I wasn’t the one who…?

There was a lump in his throat. He was starting to lose the battle against it. The fake positivity, the force-fed hope—everything he had built to get through the last year was crumbling, piece by piece.

He stood up from the couch, pacing across the apartment. His hands were shaking. His breath was coming too fast. The noise of his own thoughts was deafening. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't stop the heaviness that was settling into his bones.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t know how to keep pretending. He didn’t know how to keep fighting, keep hoping.

He walked toward the kitchen, his hands reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. It was like it was calling to him, offering him an escape. Maybe just a drink, maybe more, just enough to numb the pain for a little while.

He reached for it, his hand shaking slightly. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to keep pretending, didn’t want to keep up the facade of strength.

As he poured the whiskey into a glass, his eyes flickered to the counter, where something else lay in his peripheral vision. The knife.

His stomach twisted as he stared at it. It wasn’t new. He’d kept it there for a while now. Just in case, he told himself. It was always there, just in case. Just for the days when it felt like the darkness was swallowing him whole and there was no way out.

He set the glass down, taking a step closer to the counter. His fingers hovered over the handle of the knife. He didn’t need to do this. He knew that. But the ache in his chest—the unbearable, suffocating pain of living without you—was louder than his common sense. The loneliness, the guilt, the guilt of feeling like he could never be enough without you. It made everything else blur.

What if I just end it all now? What if the pain stops for good?

The thought was so heavy, so pressing, that it took everything in him not to reach for the blade. His mind was spinning, a tornado of thoughts and emotions. He knew it wasn’t the answer. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight. But the darkness—the kind that had been creeping up on him for a year now—was overwhelming. And he felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of it.

He picked up the bottle again, took a long swig. The burn did nothing to numb the ache inside him. Tonight nothing could. Not the alcohol, not the distractions, not the hockey games. Nothing could fix the gaping hole that was left when you weren’t there anymore.

A tear slipped down his cheek. The thought of you still lying in that sterile hospital room, your body healed, but your mind still trapped somewhere he couldn’t reach—it tore him apart.

And then, just as the darkness threatened to consume him completely, there was a knock at the door.

William didn’t move. He didn’t answer. His whole body felt like it was made of lead, heavy and unwilling to respond.

Another knock, louder this time. “Nylander, I know you’re in there,” Auston called from the other side, his voice firm but gentle. “Open the damn door, man.”

Something about the way Auston said it hit William deep, like someone had reached inside his chest and grabbed hold of his heart. Maybe it was the sound of concern in Auston’s voice, or maybe it was the fact that someone was there at all.

William’s hands were still shaking. The whiskey bottle was half-empty now, and the knife—he could still see it out of the corner of his eye. He felt trapped between what he wanted to do and what he knew he had to do.

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

“William, you don’t have to do this alone.”

Those words hit harder than he expected—like a jolt of electricity straight to the chest. He wasn’t alone. Not really. He’d just spent so long pretending he was, pushing everyone away, keeping everything buried deep. But Auston was right. He didn’t have to carry it all by himself. And truthfully, he didn’t want to. He was tired of the silence. Tired of being alone.

He took a shuddering breath and he reached for the knife on the counter. Paused for a moment, then slipped it back into the drawer where it belonged. The bottle of whiskey was still in his hand, but now, it didn’t feel like an answer anymore. It felt empty. Useless.

With a shaking hand, he wiped his face, quickly wiping away the tears before they could fall. He didn’t want Auston to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. But he was out of options.

The door knocked again, and this time, William forced himself. He shuffled over to the door, his body stiff and exhausted, his heart still racing.

He opened it slowly, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression empty, like he didn’t know who he was anymore.

Auston stood there, his eyes soft with concern, but there was something else in his posture—strength, like he was prepared for this, like he had been waiting for William to finally let someone in.

“You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” Auston said gently, but there was no mistaking the quiet intensity in his voice. “But I’m not leaving, Willy.”

—

Three Years Later - Christmas Eve

The snow crunched under William's boots as he made his way to the hospital, the familiar chill of December biting at his skin. The city was alive with Christmas lights, but for him, it all felt a little muted, like the world was celebrating without him — without you.

It was Christmas Eve. Your favorite night of the year. A time when the world felt a little warmer, a little more magical. The night you’d always made extra special. It had been the same every year — lights on the tree, cinnamon filling the air, your laughter echoing through the house as you spent hours wrapping gifts.

And years ago, it had been the night William asked you to marry him. He hadn’t known then, in that perfect moment, how quickly everything would change.

William shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, his breath coming out in little puffs of white mist. He’d come so far in these three years. The therapy, the constant support of his friends, and the passing of time had all helped, in their own ways. He was no longer consumed by the suffocating blackness he’d once felt. He had stopped questioning whether he was strong enough to live without you. But nothing could take away the weight of what he’d lost. Nothing could fill the space that had once been filled by you.

He remembered how alive you’d been that night, the way your eyes had sparkled when you’d said "yes" — how right everything had felt. The future had been a promise, wide open, full of potential.

And then the crash.

The crash had stolen all of it.

He took a deep breath, shaking off the dark thoughts that lingered at the edges of his mind. The fact that you hadn’t woken up after all this time—that had been the hardest pill to swallow. The doctors had been clear. At your two-year anniversary in the hospital, they’d had a conversation with your family. A conversation that crushed everyone’s hopes without saying a word. The chance of someone waking up from a coma after two years was 0.2%. Not impossible, they’d said, but so close to it that it hardly seemed worth believing.

William had curled into himself that day, trying to block out the world, but deep down, he knew. He had accepted it. Maybe not fully, but he had come to understand that your body might never respond again. That you might never wake up, and he’d have to live with that. He didn’t know how to let go, but he couldn’t hold on to false hope anymore.

Still, he came to the hospital every year for Christmas Eve. It wasn’t just a tradition. It was the last piece of the life he had before all of this. And no matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt to see you lying there, still, year after year, he couldn’t stay away. Not on Christmas.

He reached the familiar entrance of the hospital, the doors sliding open in front of him. The fluorescent lights inside didn’t feel cold anymore. They felt like home in a weird, bittersweet way.

Inside, the hospital was decorated with paper snowflakes and tinsel, as it had been for years. The Hughes family was already there — the steady comfort of them around your bed, their presence a reminder that, even in the deepest grief, he wasn’t alone.

William stepped in quietly, and they all looked up.

“Hey, Willy,” Luke greeted, his voice a little strained.

"Hey, Lukey" William replied, his voice thick with emotion. He crossed the room slowly, his feet dragging just a little more than usual. When he reached your bedside, he paused, his fingers brushing lightly against your hand as if afraid he might wake you — as if touching you too much might shatter something delicate.

For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the sight of you. His heart twisted. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had asked you to marry him — the memory of that night, the way you had smiled at him, how alive you had been. And now... now it felt like that night was part of a distant, forgotten world. A memory that both still lived in him and yet, somehow, had already slipped away.

“Hello, love,” he whispered, his voice faltering just a little. “You look beautiful.”

And he wasn’t lying. Your blonde hair still shimmered like a halo, and for a moment, you seemed like an angel who had fallen from the sky. You were thinner now, but you were still his Eli—his brilliant, beautiful wife.

From the corner of the room, Jack cleared his throat. “We’re glad you’re here, man,” he said softly, his usual brashness subdued tonight. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you.”

William nodded, offering Jack a faint smile before he settled into an empty chair next to Quinn. He sat back for a moment, taking it all in — the familiar faces, the quiet chatter, the strange comfort of their presence. It was strange and familiar at the same time. All of them, here, sharing a meal in a hospital room, the holiday decorations stark against the sterile environment. There was something warm about it, but it was also wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Ellen, acting as if nothing was out of place, fussed around the table, making sure everyone had enough to eat. Her hands moved with that motherly precision, and she shot William a gentle, knowing look.

"You're still a little thin," she said with a teasing smile, placing an extra portion of food in front of him. Her voice was soft but firm, like a mother who’d never stop caring, even when the world felt like it had fallen apart. “Eat!”

Jim leaned back in his chair, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “So, what do you think, Will? Are the Leafs finally going to make it past the first round this year?” He raised an eyebrow, looking over at William.

"Yes! This is our year," William replied, deadpan but with a spark of dry humor in his eyes. He appreciated the question—how it shifted the air in the room just enough. “I can feel it.”

Jack scoffed immediately, already grinning. “Oh really? The Leafs? That’s like saying a Christmas miracle’s coming. You’ve said that every year since I was in high school.”

Luke leaned forward, elbow on the table, expression full of mischief. “I’ve got more faith in Pablo learning how to cook dinner than the Leafs making it past the first round.”

Quinn didn’t even look up as he chimed in, calm and quiet. “No chance, man. But I admire the delusion.”

“Hey!” Ellen cut in, her voice sharp with faux offense. “Stop bullying the poor boy. Karma’s gonna bite you all in the ass when Toronto actually wins something.”

That earned a round of laughter, warm and easy. The kind of moment that didn’t feel so heavy for once. The boys kept at it, tossing jabs back and forth, their voices overlapping and playful like a rhythm they’d never forgotten.

Jack picked up a forkful of dessert, bit into it, and immediately pulled a face. “Mom, what even is this? I think I chipped a tooth.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic and eat it,” Ellen said, waving him off with a roll of her eyes.

William laughed quietly, the sound catching in his throat before it softened into something more genuine. For a minute, it was almost easy to forget where they were. Easy to pretend this was just another Hughes family Christmas. You were still the quiet center of it all, even without speaking a word.

—

Later, the room had quieted. The plates were cleared, the lights dimmed to a soft golden glow. Outside the window, snow drifted down in lazy flakes, blanketing the night in silence.

Jim and Ellen sat tucked together in a large armchair near the corner, a shared blanket thrown over their legs. They weren’t saying much—just leaning into each other like they had for decades, heads tilted, eyes glassy from wine and memory.

Across the room, William sat with Luke, Quinn, and Jack. Each in their own chair, holding mismatched mugs of mulled wine. Your recipe. William had brought the spices himself — the same ones you used every year. The smell was perfect. Cinnamon, cloves, oranges. It lingered in the air like you were still in the kitchen singing to yourself, teasing Jack for stealing another sip.

Luke took a long breath and leaned back, his eyes half-closed. “Still the best mulled wine in the world,” he mumbled.

Quinn nodded. “Yeah… she made it every year like it was nothing. But somehow, it always tasted like home.”

William didn’t say anything. He just wrapped his hands around the mug a little tighter and stared into it, breathing in the warmth.

A long moment passed before Ellen stirred from the armchair. She shifted, gently untangling from Jim, and stood up slowly, crossing the room with a kind of hesitation that immediately put William on alert.

She sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Her hands folded in her lap.

“Will,” she said softly, and her voice had that tone. The one moms used when they didn’t want to hurt you, but had no other choice.

He looked up at her slowly. “Yeah?”

She smiled, but there was sadness behind it. “We’ve been talking. As a family.”

William didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The tension rose slowly in his chest.

Ellen glanced over at Jim, then back at William. “We never thought we’d be the ones to say this. Honestly, we assumed… after what the doctor said last year, that maybe… maybe you’d be the one to pull away. To start moving on.”

The room went very quiet.

“But you didn’t,” Ellen continued gently. “You stayed. You’ve stayed every step. And I love you for that. We all do.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You’ve loved her better than we could have ever hoped.”

William swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

“But, sweetheart,” she whispered, “She’s not coming back.”

The words hit like a punch, even though they weren’t new. He’d heard them before—from doctors, from the silence in your hospital room—but never like this. Not from Ellen. Not with her hand reaching out to rest on his knee.

“I know that’s brutal,” she said. “And I would give anything to be wrong. But… William, you deserve more than this endless waiting. Elie… she wanted a family with you. She told me once how excited she was to see you with kids. Said you'd be the kind of dad who builds ridiculous treehouses and braids doll hair without flinching.”

That made William huff a small, broken breath. Almost a laugh. Almost.

“She wanted that future with you. But that future’s… it’s not here anymore.”

Behind her, Jack was watching quietly, his face tight. Luke stared into his mug. Quinn’s hand had stilled on the armrest.

Ellen squeezed his knee gently. “We love you, Will. You are family. You always will be. But we don’t want this to be your whole life. You deserve to heal. You deserve love. Kids. Joy that’s not buried in grief.”

William blinked hard. His throat burned. “I don’t know how to let her go.”

“You don’t have to,” Ellen said. “You just have to let her memory live beside you. Not ahead of you.”

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

So she reached forward and took his mug, setting it on the table. Then she pulled him into a hug.

“You’ll never stop loving her,” she whispered into his shoulder. “None of us will. But it’s okay to live again.”

William didn’t speak at first. Just sat there with Ellen’s arms still wrapped around him, his whole body locked in that numb place between guilt and grief. When she finally pulled back, her hand lingered on his cheek before returning to her lap. The others were quiet, letting the moment breathe.

Then, softly, Quinn said, “Have you talked to anyone about… next steps? Like legally?”

William blinked. “What do you mean?”

Quinn hesitated. “Your marriage. Technically.”

William sat back like he’d been hit. His mouth opened, then closed again. His throat worked around a word that didn’t come.

“I’m not divorcing her,” he said finally, low and flat.

“No one’s asking you to file papers tonight,” Quinn said, gently but firmly. “But you’ve been married to someone in a coma for three years, Will. You don’t date. You don’t travel. You barely leave the city unless it’s for games. And you’re still wearing your ring.”

William looked down at his hand as if seeing the band for the first time. It gleamed faintly in the soft light.

“It would feel like breaking a promise,” he murmured. “Like admitting she’s gone. Like giving up.”

“You’re not giving up,” Luke said, suddenly speaking up. “You’re surviving. There’s a difference.”

Jack nodded. “We’re not telling you to stop loving her. God, Will — we could never. But you’ve put your entire life on pause. That’s not love. That’s… that’s punishment.”

William clenched his jaw, breathing through his nose. “I can’t picture dating anyone else. I can’t imagine having kids with someone else. I still think about what our kids might have looked like.”

“And that’s okay,” Ellen said, reaching for his hand again. “It’s okay to carry those dreams. But you don’t have to stay stuck inside them. Elie would never want that. She wouldn’t want her memory to be the reason you stopped living.”

“I don’t know how to let it go,” he said, his voice cracking. “Every time I think about it, I feel like I’m betraying her. Like I’d be erasing her.”

Jim spoke up for the first time, voice quiet but steady. “Then don’t erase her. Make space beside her.”

William looked at him.

Jim shrugged slightly. “You’re allowed to carry her with you while building something new. People who’ve lost someone — they don’t move on. They move forward.”

There was silence again. A deep, thoughtful stillness.

Luke leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’ll never stop being part of this family. Not if you date, not if you take off the ring, not even if you… one day, God forbid, fall in love again. We’ll still be here.”

“We’ll always be here,” Quinn added.

William’s eyes were glassy now. He looked from face to face, and for the first time in a long time, he let them really see him. The wear on his shoulders. The sorrow in his eyes. The part of him that was so tired from pretending he was okay.

“I don’t know if I can,” he said. “But… I hear you.”

Ellen exhaled shakily, smiling through tears. “That’s all we’re asking, sweetheart.”

Jack lifted his mug slightly. “To Elie. And to Will—whenever he’s ready.”

One by one, they all echoed it.

William lifted his mug last. His hand trembled slightly. “To Elie,” he said, voice rough. “And to… maybe, someday, something more.”

They clinked their mugs together, the sound soft and warm. And in that quiet hospital room, lit by a string of old fairy lights and the ghosts of Christmases past, something shifted — not fully healed, not fully free. But lighter.

It was a beginning.

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kings-highway · 1 year ago

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haikyuu ships but its things about their relationships or moments that I think would surprise their friends/teammates

starting off with my boys Daisuga: honestly definitely the rest of the team forgets that they haven't been together forever, and are never expecting when either of them are acting like, well, teenagers in a relationship. Specifically in regards to being shy in front of each other or wanting to impress each other, the rest of the team always is surprised by it because in their mind, like, why are you feeling insecure in this relationship I thought you've been dating for 2 years and Suga is just like "try 3 months BITCH now I need you to find out what his favourite kind of chocolate is I'll pay you real money if he doesnt realize why you're asking."

right along to Kagehina and honestly, literally even just realizing they have a normal relationship. I think everyone absolutely understands how they got together, but I imagine the first time ANYONE sees them out in public together they ALL have a moment thats like "oh shit they like... are actually dating" and every time Kagehina is just like... on a lunch date, or going shopping, walking a dog, just chatting. Like people are surprised that they genuinely spend time together outside of sports. The first time Kageyama goes with Hinata as his date to a family wedding the entire family is flabberghasted bc they definitely thought this was an on-court obsession only

Iwaoi is really simple, literally just people realizing that Iwaizumi has genuine romantic affection towards him is the funniest thing to me. There's a week where Iwaoi is worried bc Iwa had to go to school with a hickey on his neck but literally NOBODY bats an eye or even mentions it because "yeah Oikawa obviously-" but when theyre changing for practice and they see that Oikawa has a hickey on his neck the entire team goes feral and practically tackles Iwaizumi like "you committed to kissing him for that long?????? YOU?????" like they cannot comprehend Iwaizumi actively participating. (obviously this is also the only time they every see Iwazumi embarassed enough to visibly blush which only compounds things.)

Bokuaka's is so stupid but honestly - the first moment the team realizes that Akaashi is, like, attracted to Bokuto and isnt just his best friend that got carried away. Konoha catches Akaashi checking out Bokuto's ass as he's leaving the changing room and it legitimately ruins Konoha's day. What is he supposed to do with this information.

To be completely fair, Ushiten as a concept probably absolutely baffles the entire Shiratorizawa team for multiple reasons. I think though the obvious one is that the rest of the team cannot understand how little Ushijima is bothered by any of Tendou's antics, where Tendou is VRRY touchy and goofy and lots of PDA and affection and Ushijima is completely receptive and unbothered by it, if not going out of his way to intentionally make Tendou laugh to invite him to more. Like Tendou absolutely would sit on his lap during lunch and Reon would be sitting there losing his mind bc last time he sat too close to Ushijima he got a lecture on personal space. Oh, but now suddenly he's super chill and relaxed and nothing bothers him its tendou doing it.

Asanoya's is a little sad tbh but I think, specifically the second and first years, would be surprised by how serious Noya is about the relationship and how little he tolerates jokes about them being opposites/a surprising pair or any of that. Like theyre shocked to find out how seriously he's taking being a boyfriend and really trying to make sure Asahi is happy. The idea that it isnt superficial or just for fun for him is surprising to them.

Arankita - in a comedy of errors Atsumu accidentally finds out they they are ~no longer virgins~ and legitimately has to leave practice for 20 minutes. There's a piece of him, and the rest of the team, that had 100% believed Kita was a robot and they just.... the idea that this was something that happened organically and not for "procreation" doesnt fit in their worldview. Kita smacks the next person who brings it up and that ends the conversation.

#haikyuu ships #daisuga #kagehina #iwaoi #bokuaka #asanoya #ushiten #arankita #haikyuu fandom

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ladykailitha · 3 months ago

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Forever Young Part 3

Hey guys, welcome back! With all the 1 million word celebration stuff going on I haven't had much time to work on much, especially with a migraine that lasted three days last week, so I'm whittling down my backlog. But that's what it's for, so have no fear.

Once I have the 1 million words stories done, I'll be able to get back to work on the other stories.

In this the kids are fed and put down for naps and Steve does something unexpected.

Part 1 Part 2

Once all the kids had been fed and cleaned up, they decided to divide and conquer. Lucas and Mike would watch the kids, while everyone else worked on what might have caused the regression in the first place.

“I can tell it is not Upside Down related,” El said with a extreme confidence as they gathered around the pool to talk so they didn’t disturb the kids.

Will chewed his lip and nodded. “I agree. I’d feel it if it was. There is something else happening here, we just need to figure out what happened.”

“They had their movie night last night,” Dustin said, rubbing his chin. “I know because I tried to get Eddie to take me to the library last night, but he wouldn’t budge.”

“Don’t they usually all sleep over together when they do that?” Max asked cocking her head to the side.

“Not always,” Will said, shaking his head. “Like if one or more of them have to work, they’ll go their separate ways.”

“Shit!” Dustin said, leaping to his feet. “Who works where today? We need to call them in sick or they’ll get fired!”

“Steve will have it on his calendar,” El said tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

They all dashed into the house and slid into the kitchen.

“It looks like only Nancy and Robin!” Will cried as he scanned for today’s date. “Max you call and act all stuffy like you’re sick.”

Max nodded and went over to Steve’s roll-a-dex and looked up both numbers. She quickly put on the best performance of her life.

Twice.

When she had finished with family video, they all slumped to the floor.

“I’ve only given us two extra days,” Max said, bringing her knees up to her chest. “Hopefully that will be enough.”

They all nodded.

Suddenly Mike cried out, “Guys get in here now!”

All four of them lurched to their feet and scrambled for the living room.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asked, panicked.

Mike pointed to Eddie and Steve on the floor.

“I don’t—” Max said rolling her eyes.

“Shhh!” Lucas hissed, cutting her off.

“You like bats?! That’s so cool!” Little Eddie was saying. “Everyone tells me that they can’t be my favorite because they’re so creepy.”

Little Steve was coloring on Little Eddie’s right arm. “I think they’re cute. They’re like flying mice and I love mice. My mom won’t let me have any because she’s afraid of them. But I keep telling her that field mice that try to get into the house and fancy mice that are use for pets are different.”

“They are?” Eddie asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I still don’t—” Max huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

But again she was cut off, this time by Mike. He pointed to what Little Steve was drawing on Little Eddie’s arm.

“Holy shi–” Dustin stopped himself. “Crap.”

Little Steve was almost done with his drawing. He had drawn four of the five bats that made up Eddie’s tattoo on his forearm.

Will walked up to them and crouched down next to Little Steve. “That looks really neat, Stevie. What made you decide on bats?”

Little Steve frowned as he finished the last bat. It wasn’t neat or exactly like Eddie’s tattoo, but there were five of them of varying sizes.

“I like bats!” Little Eddie said brightly. “He asked if he could draw on me. Mama never lets me draw on myself and when I visit Uncle Wayne he says he has to follow her rules or at least make sure I wash them off before I go home.”

“That’s great, Eddie,” Will said with a pained smile. “You like to draw?”

Little Eddie nodded.

“It just felt right,” Little Steve said softly, stroking the newly colored bats on Eddie’s arm. He looked up at Will, his eyes welling up. “Did I do something wrong?”

Will shook his head. “No, Stevie. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just curious about why you chose the bats.”

“His arm looked funny without them,” Little Steve whispered.

Little Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I like it! It’s like my Daddy! He has tattoos too! Though his are like daggers and stuff.”

“That’s cool,” Little Steve said, brightening up for the first time since he was found by Dustin. “My dad thinks that people who get tattoos are bad people, but that can’t be right, because Henry the butcher has tattoos that he got while he was in the army and he’s the nicest guy!”

Will was starting to see why Steve’s parents might have decided he wasn’t worth having around if he was already choosing to see people as individuals not blanket concepts that could be reviled against at the tender age of five.

“That’s good, Stevie,” Lucas said with a sigh.

“My dad says stuff like that too,” Little Nancy said, cocking her head to the side. “But my mom just rolls her eyes and tells me later that we have to be nice to other people. Especially after my little brother is born. I have to be extra special nice to him.”

Mike’s lip quivered. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure where in Nancy’s toddler years she was, but now he did.

“I’m going to have a little brother, too!” Little Jonathan cried, raising his hand. “He’s name is going to be William after my grandfather!”

Will looked behind him with a smile on his face. “You are going to be the best big brother. I can tell.”

Little Jonathan beamed up at him. “I’ll fight Dad if I have to. I’ll be so big and strong so I could protect him!”

Will stood up and walked over to him. He gently cupped Little Jonathan’s cheek. “You don’t have to do that, let your mom handle your dad, just be there for him and be understanding, okay?”

Little Jonathan nodded.

“I think it’s nap time,” Mike said, voice cracking and fighting back tears. “Come on. The girls can sleep in one room and the boys in Steve’s room.”

Little Eddie crossed his arms and pouted. “I’m too big for naps! I’m the first grade and everything!”

“Do you think that you could play quietly while the others slept?” Dustin asked, skeptically raising one eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“No way!” Little Nancy huffed, mirroring Little Eddie’s pose. “If he doesn’t have to nap, then I don’t either!”

And suddenly all the kids were protesting the nap. Mike squeezed his eyes shot for a moment before going over and kneeling in front of her.

“Nancy,” he began. “He’s older than you. The older you get, the less sleep you need to grow up. So Eddie’s little body can stay up easier than yours can.”

Little Nancy frowned. “He’s not older than I am!” she protested, grasping at straws.

“He’s six, Nance,” Dustin huffed rolling his eyes. “That’s two years older than you.”

“I’m six!” she insisted, stomping her foot.

Mike smirked, he had this one on lock. “Uh-uh,” he said wagging his finger. “That’s a lie and liars get what?”

Little Nancy’s eyes went wide. She leaned forward and whispered. “Who told you about the naughty chair?”

Mike just grinned. “So the choice is yours. The naughty chair or a nap.”

Little Nancy pouted and stomped her foot, not answering.

“Chair it is then,” and he reached out for her hand.

She snatched it back and then marched to the door. “Well, where is this extra room, I’m supposed to nap in?”

Max hurried up to her. “Follow me. Come on, Robbie.” She held out her hand and the other little girl sighed heavily but trotted up to Max to take her hand.

Max lead them to room on the other side of the hall and tucked them in.

Mike turned to Little Steve and Little Jonathan and clapped his hands. “Come on, boys. Nap time for you too.”

Little Steve looked up at him a moment deciding if it was worth arguing that he was older too. But Mike met him head on, never flinching or blinking.

Finally Little Steve gave it up as a lost cause and with a heavy, put upon sigh, he caves. “I’m guessing the same room I woke up in and where Wayne put me?”

Lucas cocked his head at his tone. “Wait, do you not want to sleep in that room?”

Little Steve rolled his eyes. “Duh.”

The boys looked at each other in confusion before El snapped, “It’s because the room scared him! I wouldn’t want to go back to a room where I woke up not knowing where I was or where my parents were, and hid the closet either.”

“Me either,” Little Jonathan said softly, taking Little Steve’s hand.

“Okay,” Dustin said, rearing his head back in shock. “So where do we put them instead?”

They all thought for a moment.

“There is a little room in the basement,” Lucas said snapping his fingers. “Actually it looks like almost whole other house down there, man. There’s a bathroom and a kitchen and even a game room, but most importantly a bedroom. We can put them to sleep there. The bedroom is right by the stairs so we can hear them if they need anything!”

Everyone agreed to that and soon enough Little Jonathan and Little Steve were out like a light.

Lucas came thundering up the stairs, but Max shushed him. He opened his mouth to ask, but she elbowed him and pointed at the floor where Little Eddie was supposed to be coloring.

He was slumped over his coloring book in a heap, snoring away.

Will shook his head and grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and tucked Little Eddie’s head under it. Then Mike came over with one of the afghans Steve kept by the love seat for movie nights, and draped it over him.

“Now we need to figure out what’s happening and why,” Dustin said with his hands on his hips.

“And how the hell did Steve know about the bats on Eddie’s arm?” Max said, crossing her arms. “Like it’s clear they don’t recognize each other or us, so how did he know about the bat tattoo?”

Lucas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“And why Eddie?” Dustin groused. “Why not Nancy or Robin? Or hell, me? Because he’s known us longer than he’s known Eddie.”

“Yeah,” Will said and then pulled his backpack on to his lap. “Let’s keep note of whenever that happens, to see if we can find a pattern.”

“That’s a good idea, Will,” Lucas said. “Also we need to figure what happens if this goes on for more than a couple of days. Because they all have jobs and responsibilities that if they go without doing for too long will get them into serious trouble.”

“Which means telling more than Wayne,” El agreed. “I do not want to call Dr. Owens. Especially since we know it is not Upside Down related, but perhaps he knows more about this sort of thing than we do.”

“First off,” Max said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We do not need all of us watching the kids, I felt mostly useless.”

Mike nodded. “As much as it pains me to say this, but I think it should be me and Lucas. We know the most about taking care of kids.”

Lucas sighed but agreed. “Sad but true. Which means you four are going to have to do some research. Try to figure out what they watched. If they smoked weed or drank and what the combination might have been to cause this.”

“The scientific method!” Dustin cried with a grin. “You’ve got it!”

El and Max shared a glance and rolled their eyes.

“We should split it up further,” Will said, from behind his notebook. “El and Max reach out to Dr. Owens and find out if this has happened before while Dustin and I play detectives and figure what happened last night.”

Everyone agreed and then they all put their hands in a circle.

“We’ve got this!” Lucas cried and they all roared back, “Hell yeah!”

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Tag List: ONE SLOT LEFT

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @stripey82 @tony-2012 @stedestielfrattficlover @micheledawn1975

10- @moonshadows-13 @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale @morallyundefined @best-thing-at-this-party

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailitha writes #kid fic

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years ago

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Late Mornings

A/N: Just a short little thang I felt like writing. The idea of writing a smut w/ these two is very tempting 🧐🧐

Incubus x Gender neutral reader x Succubus

Summary: Just a normal morning with your secret succubus/incubus roommates, nothing odd here at all

“Hey, have you been going into my room lately?”

You looked down into your cup of warm tea, sticking your thumb in to feel the temperature.

Your female roommate scoffed, cutting herself off with a laugh.

“What? No. What kind of question is that, why would I go into your room?”

“Well,” You chest squeezes, your heart feeling like it was about to squish and explode. “I-- Every morning, my door is open. I never leave my door open; not when I’m not home, anyway. I’ve been paying attention to it more, and it’s no coincidence--”

“What are we talkin’ about fellas?” A raspy voice says from behind, startling you.

Your hand shakes, mug slightly tipping to leave tea on the white tablecloth. Shit, this was your grandma’s.

Your female roommate, currently still cooking with her back turned to you, let out a groan of disgust.

“Didn’t know the beast woke up before noon.” She chides.

Warm hands fall onto your shoulders, holding them still as if to keep you from getting up.

“You’re up, Gabriel?” You try to turn around to face him, but find that the male is already next to you, his warmth radiating off of him, part of it likely still remaining in the sheets he just tangled himself out of.

“You too?” He frowns, unattractive lines forming on his pedicured face. “I don’t sleep that late most of the time, you know. I have to get up for work by 10-- usually.”

“Yeah, when you don’t have a ‘guest’.” Your female roommate counters.

“Ugh shuddup Liz, as if you’re not the same. Besides, you know I gave that up a while ago.”

For some reason, Gabriel looked toward you while saying this, you in return giving him a confused look.

He massaged your shoulders, leaning all of his weight onto you as he nearly fell asleep again, yawning and closing his eyes.

“You believe me right, sunshine? Haven’t heard anything in these thin walls lately huh?”

You cringe at how he shoves his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell so obviously it nearly makes you shudder from embarrassment. You would’ve shoved him off if Liz had turned around, witnessing it. But she still was turned cooking, making breakfast for you. She made enough for all three of you to eat, but you knew you’d be the only one with a plate when she was done.

“C’mon Gabe you’re suffocating me,” You pat his hand, hoping he’d stop himself from reaching over the chair to hold you. But he didn’t, instead giving you a awkward hug from behind as he rocked you back and forth.

“Blegh, don’t call me that; you know I hate it. Just gives me more of a reason to hang on…” He says, noting the way you shimmy in his grip, trying to make him let go.

Liz turns with a pan in her hand, dumping the eggs and bacon in it onto your plate, pulling Gabriels ear with her free hand.

“Let go.” She says, with a little more harshness than you would’ve expected.

“Mind your manners, you never learned how to share.” She glares daggers at him, flicking his nose as he backs off.

You’re too busy pulling at your neck, a wave of nausea and sleepiness coming over you, as if Gabriel’s exhaustion rubbed off.

“So mean, bitch..” He mumbles, stretching his arms as he goes to sit next to you. “Well, atleast I feel energized for the day.”

His face has a newfound freshness, dark circles less ingrained as he looks around the room.

Gabriel scooted his chair over noisily, sitting nearly beside you now despite your chair being at the short end of the table.

You let out a small sigh of exasperation, feeling what seemed like bruises on your shoulders and neck. Had he really pressed that hard?

“Stop messing with it, you’ll make it worse.” He said, bringing your hand down as you felt a strange indent in your skin.

“Make what worse?” You questioned. Could he see something on you that you couldn’t? Well, you hadn’t looked in a mirror since you woke up.

“What are your plans for the day?” Liz interrupted, holding a mug with one hand as she sat across from gabriel, moving her chair with her other hand. You always admired the grace she seemed to have when doing things, her balance and lack of clumsiness making her appear so capable. If it were you, you probably would’ve gotten the chair stuck on the rug, dropping the mug in the process.

Her chair was close, but not nearly as close as Gabriel’s. You watched her pour her coffee as you began to pick up your fork. Gabe held onto your other hand, petting it with his thumb as he grabbed a clean mug from across the table.

Trying to pull your hand away, you found that Gabriel’s came with it, holding on as if he was an extension of you.

“Gabe.” Liz barked, watching the scene unfold. Gabriel was mid-sip as he let go in an offended manner, throwing up his free hand and rolling his eyes from behind the mug.

She scoffed, muttering under her breath about his childness as she turned her attention to you.

“So, your plans for today, Bee?” Liz repeated.

You perked up at the nickname, having not heard it for quite a while. You much preferred it over Gabriel’s overly sweet ones-- It wasn’t even about him trying too hard, he was just naturally that sappy to a tasteless degree.

You looked up like a deer in headlights, not expecting the attention your roommates were giving now, since they were previously so occupied with one another. But they both awaited your answer, watching you shovel bits of cheesy eggs and overdone bacon into your mouth. You took a scalding sip of your tea, some of it dripping down to your chin as you tried to hurry to answer.

“You’re almost as bad as Gabriel,” Liz sneered, though with less conviction than she gave to the aforementioned male. “Take your time, don’t rush.”

She pulled a napkin from the holder, grabbing your chin like a mother would to her child. Though, you didn’t feel the napkin grace your face, instead her thumb was wiping away whatever remnants you left on your unwashed skin.

Satisfied, Liz licked her thumb clean, drying it on the napkin she pulled.

“So...?”

You cleared your throat, licking your lips under the hungry gazes of your roomates.

“Uh, I really hadn’t planned much, since its been my first day off since--”

“You should stay home with us; what do ya know, I have today off too.” Gabriel interrupts.

You look towards him, a cheeky grin covering his face as he pushes his socked foot against yours, hip nearly touching your own.

All of a sudden Gabriel yelped out, his knee hitting the table as Liz shot him a glare that you swore could paralyze. You hoped to never be on the receiving end of her wrath.

“While I don’t usually agree with the dimwit,” Liz commented, turning her attention back to you as her hard expression softened. “I think it could be nice to have a roomies day-- Just relaxing, watching movies, indulging in some needs… You know, just simple things.”

Gabriel nursed his foot, holding it as he nodded with a frown.

“I could do your hair.. Liz could take you shopping…” Gabe’s excitement had turned to slight pouting.

You thought about it for a moment. Why not? You had hardly spent much time with the two, even though they always seemed to be around, sucking up your energy and time like vampires. You swore it was a mistake to have two extroverts as your roommates.

There seemed to be something off about them too; something they wouldn’t say. But you didn’t mind-- especially since they had quit some of their more tedious habits like bringing nightly “friends” home, since you came along. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle the embarrassment of hearing their every move, every sound. Thankfully, you didn’t have to have much of a discussion about it, their one-night stands decreasing by the second week of your move-in.

“Awe please say yes,” Gabriel pouted, reaching for your hand as he bunched his own against the tablecloth, attention pulled back to you. “We hardly get your-- well, any time with you. C’mon, won’t you do it for us?”

Liz would’ve reprimanded him if it weren’t for the way your frown turned slightly upward. You took his hand, giving a dramatic sigh and roll of your eyes.

“Does that mean yes?” Liz questioned.

“I guess so. As long as we aren’t going extreme-- I don’t need a whole wardrobe change, OR a new hairstyle.”

You looked at Gabriel with your eyebrows raised.

“I’ll do the best I can to restrain myself.” He cackles, rubbing his hands mischeviously.

“Ah, I’m excited,” Liz says with a grin, pushing her foot towards yours. “I can’t remember the last time I got to go out with a… friend.” She gave you a smile that seemed out of place.

You smiled back, slightly forced as her cold foot ran up and down your leg, stroking above your pajama pants as she gleamed at you.

“Well we gotta get ready-- first, its my turn. I need to get you dressed and right for the day-- before missy here takes you for a shopping trip that counts more as an excursion.” Gabriel pushed out of his seat, leaving his full cup there as you took another bite of food.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” He pushed your head towards his face, giving a longing kiss to your cheek as you chewed. “I know where to find youuu.” He sing-songed, pressing a finger to your nose as he pecked the same area once more. He skipped back to his room, humming as he and Liz refused to break eye contact.

Was it normal for roommates to be so affectionate? You weren’t sure, but the rent was too cheap and they were too nice for you to say no to his advances.

“He’s right, its already eleven.” Liz commented, her busty body already dressed in normal day clothes that showed off the right parts; You had to admit, you were a little jealous of how well she knew how to dress for her body type.

Liz grabbed her mug with her fingertips, pushing your hair back and giving a gentle peck to your forehead.

“Don’t let him do too much, you’ll regret it.” Liz warned. She laughed a little as she walked away, your chewing stopping as you wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

You quickly finished your food, feeling another wave of sickly nausea pressing into your sinuses as your head went heavy. You were going to need much more than your normal amount of strength to survive those two today.

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