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#i realised that i had a routine as soon as i was not able to do it.
camellia-thea · 1 year
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#vent#i realised that i had a routine as soon as i was not able to do it.#was very upsetting#feels kind of like. i've just been having a... semester? basically? i think it started in like. may.#and i've just been having dips where i come out and go ''okay i'm finally fine again''#then i'm just clinging until the next thing takes me out#and it's just. searching desperately for things that give me control and make me feel at least vaguely a little better#and so losing a routine like that was really upsetting because having some videos each week to look forward to#god. i finally hit somewhere i think i have a baseline for with physical health and my mental health goes to absolute shit#i just want to be done with uni#but that comes with other problems#need to do things. feel like i can't. stressed either way.#feel like the world is falling on my head 24/7#constantly aware of how much it costs to be disabled and unable to work#and not wanting to live that way#but like. there isn't another option? me doesn't count as disabling for disability living support and i can't get a job#so i'm dependent on study to live and like. i want to work! i want to have a job!#and like. my life wouldn't be perfect with better support in that area#but damn would it be better.#all i do is think about it or being sick or feeling guilty about something that was completely fine actually#i just. want to not worry. i want to be taken out of my brain and body for a bit. not forever. just. for a while.#i just want some peace.
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sttoru · 5 months
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Sukuna with clingy concubine 🛐🛐 like hella clingy, always clinging to sukuna, sitting on his lap and just following sukuna like a lost puppy
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff. little bit suggestive. size difference. reader is clingy, a bit of an airhead ig. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’.
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“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.
you flash him an apologetic smile “i’m sorry, my lord.” you’re not sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he cannot recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.
he doesn’t wait on you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem. you frown and take on the challenge that’s been thrown your way.
you increase your pace and nearly run after sukuna. you have to lift your kimono a little to make sure you wouldn’t trip over the fabric. it doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon as you follow him with that same content expression on your face.
sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him? he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”
there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones. you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”
you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard. “tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.
sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines since you’re always with him.
you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.
you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking at the nature in front of you both.
“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone. he doesn’t push you off, however. that alone should tell you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.
you shall never discover which of the two it actually is.
“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to. you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.
you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time sukuna shows some tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.
“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna simply puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.
you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”
you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back. you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”
sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.
he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.
the power dynamic; it’s addictive.
he needs more of it.
sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision. you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”
the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for. he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.
you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.
what a perfect way to spend your day.
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wosohours · 6 days
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i missed you - alexia putellas x reader
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Alexia arrived at training in a sour mood with a pout on her face, the same pout that had been seen on her face frequently throughout the last three weeks.
“What’s wrong Capi? Your girl still hasn’t come back yet?” Mapi teased when she saw Alexia’s face. Alexia roller her eyes slightly shoving Mapi out of the way to get to her locker, “No, she will be there for four more days.” she sighed.
You had been gone for almost a month on a business trip out of the country. This is the longest you and Alexia have been apart since you two got together four years ago. Even when Alexia had to travel for major tournaments or national camp you would always try to be present at the games. Although this time it was you who was away and Alexia could not just ditch training and games to be with you.
Hence the reason for the almost permanent pout being stuck on the Catalan woman’s face for three weeks. Of course this is not the first business trip you have ever been on or the first time you and Alexia have been away from each other for a while, but being gone for more than a couple of days started to take a toll on Alexia. Little did she know it was starting to take a toll on you as well but with being constantly busy working you tried not to think about it as much.
Alexia did not want to seem clingy, obsessed, or act like she was heavily dependent on you, but to go from being attached to the hip everyday with someone to them not being around at all kind of threw her off a bit.
She did not realise how involved you were in each other’s daily lives and routines. Going to sleep and waking up alone sucked. Brushing her teeth alone was boring. Showering alone, of course, sucked. The first week you were gone she kept accidentally making two cups of coffee. She even tried to make the breakfast you make for her the same way, but it just did not taste right.
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“The days will pass by soon, just think of it as…four more sleeps,” Patri chimed in across the room. “Yeah, four more ‘sleeps’ alone,” Alexia sulked, lacing up her boots.
“Okay Ale no more pouting, time to train,” Mapi walks over pulling Alexia up from her seat.
During training, Alexia was usually able to turn her brain off and do what she needed to do, but since her normal routine has been flipped upside down all this time and the anticipation of seeing you again weighed heavy on her might, she could not help but get distracted.
So much so that the amount of passes, easy shots, and penalties she was missing earned her concerned glances from her teammates and staff. Alexia understood their concern, they had El Clásico coming in two days, and messing up on easy drills was not looking good.
So she pushed through the rest of practice, showered, did her recovery, and left towards her car so she could get home and call you.
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When Alexia arrived home she immediately jumped in bed and called you on FaceTime, “Hola bebé, I miss you so much.”
“Hola mi amor, I miss you too. How was training?” You asked her while propping your phone up so you two could see each other better.
Alexia groaned and smashed her head into your pillow before she looked up again, “It was terrible bebé I was missing everything, and on one of the set pieces I kicked the ball at Mapi’s back, and this time it wasn’t on purpose.”
That got a loud laugh out of you and Alexia thought about how she could not wait to hear it in person again. After you stopped laughing Alexia asked you about your trip and how work was going. You told her how great it was, how much fun you were having, and how special it was for you to be in the leadership position of the project.
“ I am very proud of you mi amor no one deserves this more than you and clearly the company thinks the same,” she told you with a small yawn.
“Thank you, baby. I appreciate it. Though I thought about you a lot, and it also made me think that maybe we needed this,” you said, causing Alexia’s eyes to shoot open.
Before she could respond you continued, “I know you are about to jump to conclusions but I mean that it is a good and healthy thing for our relationship. You know the saying ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’ It made me stop and think about how much I love and appreciate you and the love that we have for each other.”
“You’re right, I didn’t think that far into it. I just thought about how much I miss you and that I can’t wait to have you by my side again.” Alexia replied, fighting to keep her eyes open.
“I’m going to let you sleep now, I love you and see you in a couple of days.” you told her. Alexia blew you a kiss through the phone, “I love you too, see you in four days.”
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You had told Alexia the truth about how you had been thinking about her a lot. You two were very independent people when you first started dating and even now four years later, but in the last couple of months something had shifted between you and now you could not get enough of each other.
Now where you did not correct her was when she said “...see you in four days.” You were already at the airport staying in one of those convenient airport hotels waiting to get on your flight leaving for Barcelona in just a couple of hours. You texted Alba and Eli and told them your flight information letting them know what time you would be landing. Alba had agreed to pick you up and Eli would be sort of distracting Alexia from thinking of you all day.
The plan was to get to Barcelona a day early and stay with Alba so you could rest and the next day you would be attending El Clásico with the plan of surprising Alexia.
Checking the time on your phone you realize that you should get some sleep to prepare for your long travel day.
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“Hola hermanaaa,” Alba cheered as you walked out of the airport with your luggage. “Hola Alba,” you laugh, letting go of your suitcases to give her a big hug.
“We have all missed you so very much, mami is making us all have dinner together at her place tomorrow so that we can all catch up and you can tell us about your trip,” she says, grabbing one of your suitcases and putting it in her car.
“That sounds great. I missed you all as well, your mama's cooking even more though,” you laugh as she rolls her eyes.
You both finally sit in the car and start the drive to Alba’s apartment, where you will be catching up on some sleep until the game tomorrow.
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“Do you need a shirt or did you already pack ten for your trip?” Alba joked as you two started getting ready for the game. You were texting Alexia your usual, “Good Morning,” so that she would not get suspicious when you looked up hearing Alba speak.
“Haha, you’re so funny, but no I already have one,” you say, showing her the jersey with Alexia’s name and number on the back.
“Ouu and a special game worn one at that. I should’ve known, you are never without one,” she teases, shaking her head.
“I’m done getting ready. Are you ready to go now?” you ask, making Alba nod and grab her bag and keys so that you two can leave.
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As you two were making your way to the entrance of the stadium you spotted Alexia and Alba’s mother and uncle already standing there waiting for you two. Everyone exchanges greetings and hugs before heading to their seats.
While you and Alexia’s family made small talk waiting for the game to start, Alexia was sitting in the locker room getting ready thinking about how this was the first El Clásico you would miss since you two got together.
“Are you ready Ale?” Mapi asked. Alexia looked up and gave her a nod and a small smile. Before Alexia could tie her boots she received a text notification from you.
“Don’t worry I’m watching. You’ll be great. I love you.”
She texted back, “Thank you. I love you more.”
This relaxed her a bit. Knowing that even though you were not physically here you would always support her no matter where you were. With that small boost of reassurance, Alexia stood up and clapped to get her team’s attention so that she could give her speech before the game.
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When the girls started walking out you and everyone else stood up and started cheering. You were hoping to get Alexia’s attention but you know that she was focused on the game. The start of the game was entertaining as usual with both teams doing their best to score early and gain a lead, but with both teams holding their own it was 0-0 by the time half-time came.
As the girls were walking back to the locker room you and Alexia’s family tried once again to get her attention since you knew Alexia usually looked up at the family section when half-time was called. Sure enough, she heard her name being called and looked up to see her family there with you standing and cheering right next to them like you always did.
She could not believe that you were here when she was sure that you still had four more days of work in a whole different country. After she shook the disbelief off of her face she waved at all of you and slyly blew a kiss in your direction, which you pretended to catch.
In the locker room, Alexia could not hide the smile on her face. “Did you see your girl in the stands Capi?” Patri asked, grabbing her shoulder slightly, shaking her. “Looks like she couldn’t wait to see you either, Ale,” Mapi said, making Alexia blush.
After the half-time break was over the girls went back out with a little more fire earning them a goal from Frido, Aitana, and Caroline. Two goals being assisted by Alexia. Ending the game at 3-0.
Since the game was over the team did their rounds taking pictures and signing autographs. Alexia looked up at her family and nodded her head in the direction of the tunnel signaling them to make their way down there. Once Alexia was done she made her way to the tunnel and met with her family and she gave everyone hugs and kisses until she got to you.
“Oh mi amor I missed you so much, I can’t believe you here right now,” Alexia says pulling you into a tight hug laying kisses all over your face and the side of your head. “I also can’t even believe that you kept a secret from me, usually you spill faster than Mapi,” she teased, tickling your sides.
You laughed moving away from her a bit just for her to pull you back in, “I know it took a lot of willpower for me not to just give up and tell you, but when have I ever missed an El Clásico?” you asked her, holding her face in your hands.
“Never,” Alexia answered with a big smile.
“Okay, we know you too are in love and all, but Ale please go take a shower so that we can go eat,” Alba tells her. Eli softly slaps Alba on the arm and pulls her away.
“Yea go shower you stink, I will wait right here,” you tell her. Alexia rolls her eyes and nods before laying a soft kiss on your lips before going back into the locker room to take a shower.
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You ended up riding back to Eli’s house with Alexia where you let her tell you all about the game, even though you were there. Her hand on your thigh the whole ride, you both stealing kisses at every red light. She thought she was slick taking the long way there but you had noticed and you were okay with it.
When you finally made it to the house, Eli was still finishing dinner so everyone sat around the kitchen and talked to keep her company while she finished. As dinner was served you started telling them all about your trip and the project you were working on. The whole time Alexia was not able to take her eyes and hands off of you, but it did not bother you because you were acting the same.
After dinner you all sat around the living room talking some more when Alexia whispered in your ear, “Are you ready to go home?” You nod your head and kiss her cheek.
When finished making your rounds to say goodbye to everyone and thanking Eli for the delicious dinner, you and Alexia head home.
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When you two walk through the doors of your shared home Alexia pulls you into her arms and says, “I am never letting you out of my sight again.”
“I am so okay with that,” you reply, shoving your face in her neck to lay small kisses.
“Now let’s go to sleep, I know you miss me laying on top of you like your personal weighted blanket,” she says, making you laugh and follow her to the bedroom.
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note: not sure i really like this 💀
also, i fight for my life not to say “yall” at least 20+ times
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morbidlcve · 26 days
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it's just love
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pairings: natasha x reader
word count: 2.5k!
cw: oral (n! recieving), scissoring, internalized homophobia? (nat not knowing who she really is)
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From a very young age, you knew you liked girls,  you were never interested in talking about boys with your friends. You were awkward around them and didn’t know what to say. You once tried kissing a guy to see if you were just sprouting late, never again. You had one or two girlfriends from here and there, but there wasn’t much receiving through your giving. You’d be the one to put all the effort in, to show up and be present, and you were always left hanging. You told yourself when the time was right, you’d find someone. 
Natasha had an idea of who she was, but growing up where she did, she thought it was wrong. As much as she tried to break through all the KGB ideologies, a few stuck, and unfortunately, the one that would limit her from finding someone to call her own.
She was strict with herself; some may argue that she was too strict, but she didn’t like to think so. Having a daily routine made her feel free and able to do what she wanted in the order she made for herself. She had never felt more free, getting out of bed at 6 am to go to the gym, shower, and then attend breakfast. She loved her routines… until she didn’t. 
You showed up after a month of you being here, you started working out at the same times as her. She wasn’t a fan; she liked you and respected you, but there was something about you that made her feel uncomfortable, like an internal battle. She would often find herself on the treadmill, letting her eyes wander until they grounded on you, whether you were doing curls or crunches or squats, her eyes would be fixated on you. She would realise what she was doing and soon shake herself from her stupor before you noticed. Or so she thought.
You could always feel when Natasha’s eyes were on you. You yearned for it and relished it when your body would slightly heat up from her attention. Right now, Natasha was on the Stairmaster, and you were doing dumbbell squats. You could feel the molten stare of her eyes on you. Before she looked away, you turned to look at her, sending her a wink. Her eyes quickly averted from you to bounce around the room. You smiled, gathering your things and leaving. 
The next day, Natasha made sure to take the treadmill facing outside the compound. You found it amusing. Little did you know, she watched you through the window’s reflection. 
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One afternoon, Natasha was sitting in the kitchen doing some work, so you decided to join her. “Hey Natasha!” you smile, sitting across from her with your book. She muttered a ‘hi’, looking down at her reports. You two sat there for at least an hour or two doing your own thing when Natasha got up packing away her things. “Do you want to go for a walk with me, maybe a coffee?” she asked, looking at you expectantly. “Yeah, sure, let me go get my cardigan”, you smile at her. 
You two walked and walked and talked and talked. Natasha was telling herself it shouldn’t affect her; she was out of that place and shouldn’t care. Yet she somewhat found herself caring. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks shyly. “Of course” you smile at her. “How did you.. Like.. when did you know you liked girls?” looking down at her coffee. She almost didn’t expect you to answer, yet you did. The question took you off guard a little, until you realised that she was still waiting for you to answer. “I knew when I was little, my friends were going out with boys, yet I wanting to go out with them. I had zero interest in any of the opposite gender and still don’t,” you said, looking ahead of you. 
You knew that it must’ve taken some courage for Natasha to ask you a question like that to keep looking at her; it felt almost cruel, especially when she was asking questions about her sexuality (you figured, anyway). “Didn’t any part of you tell you it was wrong?” she asked quietly. You stopped and then turned to look at her, “It’s just love, Natasha. I don’t know what you have been told, but love comes in variety, just like everything else. You really needn’t worry about what everyone else would say; if you stay true to yourself, you’ll find yourself happy, if not, then you will live a sad, miserable life.” you say softly, gently taking hold of her hand, to which she held tighter. “I’m trying to come to terms with it,” she says, looking at you once again. “When you do, you’ll know where to find me”, you smile at her. 
That night, Natasha couldn’t sleep; her mind was too loud. She found herself reading poetry of all things, sapphic poetry. She was looking up pictures and watching videos of girlfriends going about their lives all in love with each other, and she found herself wanting that. Over the week, she ventured more and more into the media, absorbing all she could find and educating herself. 
She was still hesitant, of course she would be, it would take some time to adjust to this ignored and locked away part of herself, yet the more she read into it the more and more freedom she felt.  
Natasha decided she was going to take you up on that offer, she messages you, ‘I’ll be at your door at 6, be ready.’
When the time rolled around, she was indeed at your door at six sharp, holding a bouquet of flowers. You beamingly thanked her and placed the flowers in a glass on your dresser. Natasha took you on her bike to a nice little restaurant in the city, and then you went to get some ice cream. 
Over the few weeks, Natasha and you doted on each other, it was nice, happy. You two would work out together, shower, eat breakfast, and then head to the city. You would bring her to the bookstore, where she would find herself looking through Emily Dickinson and Saliva Plath whilst you did your thing. She started to grow quite a collection of books too, thanks to you. She slowly grew to like reading, whenever she had free time, she would have her nose in a book. You two would sit in her or your room and read or sometimes watch a movie. Natasha felt more and more at peace at being in your presence. 
You guys didn’t talk about that conversation you had in the park, you knew she was trying to come to terms with figuring it out, you weren’t going to pressure her into talking about it, that had to come from herself alone and unprecedented. 
Early one morning, you met Natasha in the gym, as usual. She wasn’t doing anything though; she was sitting on the benches by the lockers, her hands locked in front of her, looking down at the floor. She heard you come in, and her eyes looked up to meet yours. “Are you okay?” you ask her, coming to sit next to her. She turned to face you, her hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers. “Just let me,” she whispers, looking at you and slightly nodding. Your heart felt as though it jumped into your throat as she inched further and further towards you. First, you felt her lips lightly brush against yours, then you felt her hands holding the back of your head, pressing herself further into you. Your eyes fluttered, your hands moving to hold her arms circling your neck. Her lips were slowly moving against yours, sensually exploring you. You dared to slip your tongue into her mouth, earning a slight whimper in response. You kiss her back, aching to have her in this way, all those looks shes been giving you, made you want her all the more. Her delicate lips work against yours, her own tongue pressing against yours. The kiss turning sloppy as you both try to absorb all each was willing to give. 
Pulling away, most reluctantly, you whisper “Nat.. are you… Are you sure, I mean?” taking her face in your hands, thumbs slightly stroking her cheek. “Yes, I want to try,” she says, pressing her lips back to you. “Try as in?” you ask against her, holding her hips as she came to situate herself on your lap. “Yes,” she whines, her hips lightly rolling against yours. 
“Natasha, listen to me. Are you sure you want to? I don’t want to seem to push you into this.” She looks at you, smiling softly. “I do. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to,” she says. “Your room or mine?” you ask, standing up and holding her against you. “Yours,” she whispers, softly pressing kisses to your heck, her hands wrapping around you. 
You’re quick to return to your room, softly depositing her on your bed. The sight of her in your space makes your heart melt. She’s quick to pull you down atop her, her arms bracing you against her. You slowly kiss her, trailing your hands up her body. She sighs against you, taking your hands and pushing them onto her chest. “Touch me,” she says hotly in your ear. “I want this. You won’t hurt me,” she continues. Your mouth moves to her neck, softly nipping at the skin, soothing it with your tongue. 
Her sighs and whines feel like music to your ears. You pull her shirt off, working at the sports bra she also had on. “So pretty, for me?” your mouth is quick to attach to her nipple, softly stroking your tongue over it, she nods. Your fingers rolled the other nipple, softly pinching it. Her hands scraped through your hair, her hips rising to work against your thigh. “Oh, that’s good”, Natasha whimpered. Slowly working over her, you switched to the other one, licking and sucking. “Please, more, please.”
“So needy,” you whispered, slowly working at her shorts. She slightly raised her hips further, allowing you room to pull them off. She wore nothing beneath the shorts, which made you groan. “Oh Nat, you’re killing me here”, you mutter, pushing your fingers through her folds. She was so wet, you nearly came right there and then. “Fuck” she sighed, shivers running down her body. “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” you tell her, wanting her to guide you through this time. “Mouth, please use your mouth!” 
“Yes ma’am” you smirk, you take your time travelling down her body, pressing kisses to her stomach, kissing her scars. “You’re so damned beaufitul” you whisper to her, she whines, trying to push your head down to her centre. “And so impatient” you laugh, kissing her clit. 
You languidly lick your way from her enterance up to her nerves. “Taste so good” you murmur against her. 
Her noises are to die for, shes whining, moaning, whimpering below you. “Oh fuck, that feels so good” she cries, gripping your hair. You fingers come to press against her entrance, slowly pushing into her, your tongue working double time with her clit. “Oh yes, fuck, keep doing that!”she sighs. Smirking against her, your fingers start to speed up, coming to add another in her sopping cunt. 
Your tongue alternates between licks to slow suckles. Her body started to shake, her hips coming to buck against you frantically. Your fingers continue to bully her walls as she reaches closer and closer to her high. You could feel yourself starting to ache watching her come apart beneath you, makes you feel some type of way you couldnt quite describe. “Cum for me Nat” you say, trying to work your fingers at an increased speed, curling them into her. 
She cries above you her orgasm hitting her hard, her back arches and her thighs tremble as she releases on her fingers. “y/n! Fuck!” 
You continue your ministrations, letting her ride out the throes of her orgasm. You slowly take your fingers out, rising up to her. She takes your hand, sucking your fingers of the remaining essence of herself. You groan, feeling her lips around you. Pulling your fingers out of her mouth, you press your lips against her, your tongue working its way into her mouth. She returns it with equal fevour, tasting her self on your tongue.
You gasp when she rolled you underneath her, kissing your neck. “Nat, you, dont have to” you sigh when she licks that sensitive point behind your ear. “Can I try something?” she asks, pulling away from you to look you in the eye. “Uhuh” you nod. She quickly undresses you. You watch her looking at you, the intensity of it all made yout insides feel molten. You had no idea of what she was going to do. But the minute she spread your legs, your head fell back in a groan. 
You felt her pressing your centre against yours,”Oh” you smirk up at her. She laughs and adjusts her legs, the movement sending a ripple through you. You both moan when she begins to move, grinding aginst hers, the sound is downright shameful as your hands push and pull her hips against you, bucking up to apply more pressure between the two of you. She pulled one of your legs up so your ankle is resting on her shoulders. 
The newly adjusted position has both of you panting and moaning, rutting against each other. “God keep going,” you cry when she comes down to suck one of your nipples into her mouth. The added stiumulation making you shiver, your spine feels hot as she works your body like never before. “I’m so close,” Natasha whines against your chest, circling her hips at a renounced speed. “Me too baby, cum with me,” you reply, crying out when she lightly bites your chest. 
Natasha’s mouth detaches from you as her mouth hangs open in a silent moan, your hands continue guiding her hips as lightning rains down you, sending you into a spiralling storm of pleasure. You feel white hot as you feel natasha release all over you, gripping onto her for dear life. 
You guys don’t know how long you stay like that, until Natasha detaches herself from you and rolls to the side of you. You huff turning to face her “Are you sure that was your first time with a girl, because like wow,” you laugh. “I’ve been researching” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Natasha Romanoff, are you telling me you’ve been watching lesbian porn” You giggle when she throws a pillow at your head. “Shut up!” she says worming her way into your arms. 
“Does this mean i can ask you out on an official date now?” You whisper into her ear. “Yes, i think it does” she says kissing your shoulder.
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welp, i lowkey hate how this turned out 😃
496 notes · View notes
slasher-fxcker · 2 months
Text
Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time
Part 2
Including: Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, Jesse Cromeans, Michael Myers & Thomas Hewitt
Warnings: Swearing, (Brief mention) Attempted Sexual Assault, Violence, Mention of Voyeurism, Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.
A/N: AAAND here is part 2! Hope you guys enjoy this first piece. Believe me there are many more to come. Feel free to send requests through!
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Billy Lenz:
· Billy was excited about the new tenant in the house, it had been a while since he had any fun. He had been waiting for you to move in since he heard about it. He listened to you all day, moving your stuff around, there were other people too, movers he assumed. All day he listened to your voice and couldn’t wait until he could hear it on the other end of the phone.
· He had spent the day thinking of all the dirty things he wanted to tell you, all the ways he wanted you to scream for him. Of course, he had worked himself up, he waited until not long after midnight and decided to venture into the house. Poking around silently in your things while you slept. It wasn’t until he snuck into the living room did he realise that you were laying on the lounge. He froze not sure if you were asleep or not, luckily for him you were. He crept closer, watching your face. “Pretty, so pretty,” he mumbled to himself over and over again, along with a few other profanities.
· You moved slightly at the sound of his voice, repositioning yourself when he noticed your top slip open slightly revealing some of the bra you wore underneath. Billy could barely contain his ramblings at this, his mumbling getting louder as he pawed himself through his pants. You stirred again and he raced back to the attic as quietly as he could to finish what he had started downstairs. Yes, Billy was definitely excited about his new tenant.
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Brahms Heelshire:
· Brahms had to admit, he was hesitant about getting a ‘nanny’. He didn’t trust people and he didn’t want to be left alone. He knew you would be there soon and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t slightly excited. The knock at the door had him rushing through the walls to one of his hiding spots closest to the entrance. As the door opened he was surprised to say the least, you were younger than he imagined and way hotter. He would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine how he would be able to watch you during your stay, see you in bed, in the bath, some might find it shameful but Brahms was getting excited just thinking about it.
· After listening to you speak to his parents he had decided you would fit nicely into his routine. They had introduced you to the doll and he was surprised to see how at ease you seemed interacting with it. You didn’t stare at them like they were crazy, you were kind and acknowledged the doll as if it was Brahms himself. It made him feel seen, as silly as that sounds.
· Brahms had to admit, he wasn’t sure about getting a nanny at first, but seeing you speaking to the doll and imagining all the ways he was going to keep you on your toes sparked something in him. He found himself more excited than he had been in a long time.
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Jesse Cromeans:
· Jesse wasn’t exactly excited to meet his new assistant, his last one had been the definition of incompetent. Jesse was a busy man, he didn’t need to be held up by another useless member of staff, he already had enough of those. The knocking on his door broke him out of his train of thought, “Sorry to interrupt sir,” he didn’t turn around or acknowledge there was a presence in his office, “I just wanted to introduce your new assistant Y/N,” he took his time before turning the chair around and what he saw definitely surprised him.
· He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been you. You seemed so soft and small, innocent in a way, he noticed the way you looked away when he had been staring too long. Jesse stood abruptly, which he noticed seemed to startle you as your eyes met his once again. You didn’t miss the small tilt of his head as his eyes scanned you before holding out his hand towards you.
· He took in your meek demeanour as you approached him and took his hand in your own, you didn’t seem afraid but definitely hesitant, which he could understand. He also noticed the moment you seemed to realise you hadn’t spoken yet, you had stopped shaking hands but neither of you had let go as you looked up at him and spoke, “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” Jesse didn’t miss the stir inside him when you called him that, looking up at him with your bright innocent eyes, “I’m incredibly excited for the opportunity to work for you.” Oh yes, Jesse was a busy man but he was sure he would be finding time to make sure you enjoyed your new position.
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Michael Myers:
· Michael was bored. He had that itch that snuck upon him some nights, as he roamed the streets looking for his next kill. It had been almost a week since his last and the buzz hadn’t lasted very long. He had followed a pair of men into a park, they were loud and definitely had been drinking. Drunks make for an easy target, he stayed far enough back that he couldn’t see them but could still hear them so he knew he was on the right path.
· “Well what do we have here,” Michael stopped when he heard one of the men speak, “Shouldn’t be out here alone,” the other man said. “Just leave me alone,” he heard a third voice, a softer voice. Michael moved forward to be able to see what was happening. He stood by a corner just in time to see one of the men grab your arm as you tried to push past them, “Slow down honey, we can take you home if you want.” You pushed him and told them to leave you alone again. The man backhanded you, knocking you down to the ground and the other one crouched down to hold you down.
· Michael wasn’t sure why but something about you made him falter, you seemed so small yet watching you try to fight these men off like you had a chance made him feel something. He wasn’t sure what it was, he wasn’t used to feeling anything but something told him to stop the men. Before you could even scream you heard the man that was still standing groan out in pain and looked up to see a large knife sticking through his chest. “What the fuck,” the other man yelled lunging at Michael, he took care of him quickly. Once both bodies were on the ground he stood there looming over you, he wasn’t sure whether he was going to kill you yet. If it was anyone else they would already be dead, but something about you made him hesitate. You looked up at him and neither of you dared to be the first to move, you broke the silence, “You… you saved me.” Michael just tilted his head, he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He needed to think, he needed to get away from here. How had a regular night of killing turned into this? Yes, Michael had been bored, but you seemed like someone who would change that.
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Thomas Hewitt:
· The heat was especially unkind to Thomas today, he had been called down to help Luda at the service stop. Of course, he never minded helping his mama but the heat in the shop was stifling. He was grabbing some of the last boxes from the store room when he heard the bell on the front door chime. “Oh, look at you dear, my goodness you're all grown up.” Thomas relaxed when he realised his mama knew who was in the store, he had figured it was the new family that had moved in. Luda had told him about an old friend of hers who had moved back with her daughter. She seemed especially excited when she spoke about introducing him to you.
· “Evening Miss Luda, mama wanted me to bring you these.” You say handing over the basket, “Oh goodness, its been years since I’ve had one of your mamas pies.” she checked the contents before replacing the lid, turning back to you she remembered you hadn’t met her son yet. “Tommy, come out here, I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” Thomas hesitated before letting out a gruff sigh and walking back into the store. He walked towards you both but kept his eyes to the ground, he didn’t need to see the look of horror on your face when you found out Luda had a monster for a son.
· “This is my boy Thomas,” Luda introduced him, Thomas was expecting you to hide away from him or brush off the introduction all together, but instead he heard your timid voice as you held out your hand, “It’s nice to finally meet you Thomas, I’m sure you’ve heard as much about me as I have you.” He finally looked up then to find the most beautiful pair of eyes he had seen staring straight up at him expectantly, no fear in sight. He seemed taken aback, not expecting you to be so pretty and certainly not expecting you to be so kind. Before he could think any longer he noticed the slight blush across your cheeks and realised you still had your hand out.
· He hesitantly reached out, not sure if he was more afraid of spooking you or himself. Thomas gently took your hand in his before giving it a soft shake. You didn’t know how someone as large and strong looking as him could have such a soft touch. You were both still holding the others hand and staring at each other when Luda broke you out of your trance. “Well now that you’ve finally met, why don’t you and your mama join us for dinner?” Luda suggested. You and Thomas finally broke your gaze and you quickly composed yourself agreeing. You turned back to Thomas, “Well it was lovely meeting you Thomas, I guess I’ll see you tonight.” You smiled at him before turning back towards the door. He felt the blush on his face warming up and realised the Texas heat wasn’t the only thing that’s making him sweat.
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avis-writeshq · 1 year
Text
carriage six – spencer reid
summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).
warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that <3
wc: 1.8k
part two: platform ten
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Spencer tries not to look so excited when he enters the subway, clad in light grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, a brown and purple argyle sweater vest and a mauve coloured tie. His signature leather bag is strapped across his chest and he has a light cardigan in his hand; the weather reports said it would be cold today. His head spins with the statistics on the accuracy of meteorology, considering the bright and sunny skies that blessed the citizens of D.C that morning. He’s donning a new haircut today as well. It was a lot shorter than he originally planned to get it, but he likes it. In fact, he likes it a lot, particularly the way it drapes across his forehead and the way it looks messy but still cool. That’s how he would describe it. Cool. He feels cool.
He hasn’t been able to get onto the subway for three days because of a case in Connecticut and his mind wanders. Will there be another case soon? How long would it take? He hopes it would be a local case. He feels guilty thinking that; he shouldn’t be hoping for a case at all. After all, that would only mean someone else has met their untimely death. He shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts. 
He steps onto the train, onto the sixth carriage, and sits on his usual seat. In his mind, it’s the perfect seat. It avoids the sun so he doesn’t need to squint and he doesn’t have to turn the brightness level of his phone all the way up. It’s right next to the door in case he needs to make a quick exit. It’s right next to a handicapped seat, meaning that people tended to avoid it. But the best thing about this seat was the view.
He cringes when he thinks of it. ‘View’ sounds gross. Perverted. ‘View’ is the wrong word to describe it. His favourite thing about this particular seat is the company. Yes, he likes the company, although it technically doesn’t exactly count as company. 
His gaze shifts to his company. Exactly four rows away, her eyes trained on the book in her hands. He recognises it to be ‘Pride and Prejudice’, the limited edition rose gold copy that was released eight months, three weeks and two days ago. He has the same copy sitting on his dresser. 
She looks different today. Granted, it had been three days since he last saw her. He scans her figure to try to place his finger on the difference and he realises. She’s wearing a new lipgloss. Spencer’s cheeks burn when he realises. Why on earth— no, how on earth is he able to tell? He feels himself cringe and he shifts his gaze and scans the rest of carriage in an attempt to busy himself and his mind, but his eyes ultimately fall back on his company.
Spencer can’t seem to take his eyes off of her. What’s she listening to? Where is she up to in her book? Does she like Austen? Has she read any other books by her? What does she think of Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship? So many questions enter his mind and he wishes he had the guts to go over and strike up a conversation. But he’s not like Morgan. He doesn’t have that type of charisma or that type of confidence. If anything, he supposes, he’s self aware. He knows that the moment he starts a conversation, he would start rambling for twenty minutes about the relationship dynamics between the characters and why Austen was so incandescent and exceeded all beliefs as a writer in her world. He’d start to bring in authors like Virginia Woolf and why her admiration towards Jane Austen was warranted. Ultimately, Spencer thinks to himself as his eyes wander back to the girl, he’d scare her off.
He watches as she falters in her movements, her fingers pausing from flipping the page and Spencer frowns. From what he could tell, she was a little bit more than halfway through the book. Maybe up to page 260? But there’s nothing remotely difficult in that part of the book. If anything, that was the most simple and straightforward section of the entire text. And then he realises. His cheeks burn once more and he quickly busies himself with his phone, biting his lip and avoiding her amused gaze. Your amused gaze.
You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. You’ve seen him all the time, for the past three years in fact, when you first moved to D.C. He’s cute, really cute, and he’s even cuter when he looks like a deer caught in headlights. You raise a teasing eyebrow his way and you watch as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking into his phone. You can’t the soft laugh that leaves your lips, your fingers tracing against the pages of your book. Maybe you have a little more confidence in yourself than you thought.
***
The next day, Spencer feels a small sense of dread creeping into his heart. He feels embarrassed, so goddamn embarrassed, and he wonders how he could face you. His cheeks are burning and he tugs at his collar. He’s wearing a light blue shirt with a patterned purple tie, along with dark navy coloured pants. He teeters on his feet, waiting with anticipation for the train. The moment he enters the carriage, his eyes fall to the seat you would be seated at, only to see no one at all. He can’t help but frown, a little disappointed but a little relieved. He moves to his usual seat, and lo and behold, he sees you there, one leg crossed over the other and reading a different book. 
He mutters a soft apology as he slides into the seat next to you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Wuthering Heights,” he says, surprising himself.
He watches as you look up from your pages, a small smile on your face. You’re wearing the same lip gloss as yesterday.
“Yeah.” You smile, taking your headphones off and letting them rest around your neck. “You’ve… have you read it before?”
He nods, and he curses himself for looking so eager. “Yes! Um, yes, I’ve read it. It’s really good.”
“Brönte is brilliant,” You respond, sliding a bookmark in between the pages. “I finished Pride and Prejudice last night. Jane Austen is still my favourite.”
You’re baiting him. He knows that. He takes it.
“I saw,” He says quietly, biting his lip. “Not– not in like a stalker way! I just… I just noticed you reading it on the train. Yesterday. I, um, I saw you reading it yesterday.”
He wants to kick himself. His face is flushed and he’s sure that his neck is just as red as his face. His ears are hot and his head spins when he hears you laugh.
“It’s okay. I saw you too.” You offer a smile, your own cheeks warm. “You were reading Edgar Allen Poe a few weeks ago. Is he any good?”
His eyes light up and he tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a habit of his, since he’s had longer hair almost all of his life. 
“He’s very good,” Spencer insists, pulling the little book out of his satchel. “His works range from short stories to poetry, his most famous works being The Tell-Tale Heart, and Annabel Lee. The former is a short story. It’s a little grim, but he writes in an incredibly eloquent way that presents the narrator’s descent into madness, despite the point of the text being to convince the reader that he isn’t mad. Annabel Lee is a poem about a man obsessed with a woman named Annabel Lee and-“
He purses his lips, realising how much he’s spoken. He coughs into his fist, setting his book down in his lap as he quickly glances at you. 
“…and what?” You prompt, your head tilting the side in curiosity. “Go on, don’t let me stop you. You’re convincing me to actually get the book on his collection of works.”
His head practically snaps to look at you, a look of surprise on his face. He scans your face for any insincerity, from your eyes all the way down to your lips, before clearing his throat. 
“Um… well, uh, in Annabel Lee, the narrator speaks about keeping her in a castle by the sea. It’s a classic case of isolation and some literature analysts even go as far as to say that the narrator was hoping that Annabel would fall in love with him through Stockholm Syndrome but died before the narrator was able to carry out his plan.”
You take in his words, nodding along to his explanation. “You seem to be an expert yourself.”
He laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “No, I uh, I’m not an expert on literature or anything. But I am a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like… a medical doctor or…? No offence, but you really don’t look like a medical doctor.”
He laughs again, nodding. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not. I have PhD’s in chemistry, mathematics and physics, as well as BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy.”
You let out a low whistle. “You a collector or something?”
He blushes, swallowing thickly. “No, I uh… no…?”
“You don’t sound too sure of yourself doctor…” You pause, realising that you really don’t know much about this man. You look up at him expectantly. 
“Reid,” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Spencer Reid. You, um, you don’t have to call me doctor.”
“Alright then, Spencer.” You smile, and he thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You introduce yourself and he tells you that you have a pretty name. 
Time passes, and the conversation continues. You could talk for hours with Spencer; about books, movies, anything. He can make anything sound interesting, it’s one of his charms. He smiles a boyish grin as he talks, gesticulating wildly as he rants about his favourite texts and why Austen is a genius. He asks you what you’re listening to and you almost scream at the thought of introducing him to Taylor Swift. 
Before long, the train lurches to a stop at his station and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 
“It was nice meeting you. Officially,” He adds, gripping the strap of his leather bag. 
“It was nice to officially meet you too,” You respond, smiling up at him as he gets up from his seat. “Tomorrow?”
His eyes practically light up. “Tomorrow.”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
part two: platform ten
2K notes · View notes
faebaex · 1 year
Text
TWST Characters - Big Spoon or Little Spoon? Ⅱ
author note: Spoon headcanons for the remaining dorms! enjoy (✯◡✯)
characters: Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia
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Scarabia
Kalim Al-Asim
Definitely a little spoon
Literally dives into you when he sees you on the bed
Likes to use your stomach as a pillow with his arms around your waist
He’s the type who takes ages to fall asleep
Like he’ll keep talking and talking and talking
And then suddenly he’ll fall silent and he’s passed right out
Kinda difficult to wiggle free from him ngl
Jamil Viper
Big spoon but that’s bc he needs to be able to get out of bed easily in case he needs to go wrangle Kalim
I feel like he was a front sleeper but he had to adapt for when you share a bed so now he sleeps on his back with an arm wrapped around you
Fairly peaceful sleeper, doesn’t move much
Does mumble in his sleep occasionally though
Like little exasperated sounds and angry mutters
Kalim bothers him in his dreams too ig
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Pomefiore
Vil Schoenheit
Big spoon big spoon big spoon
There are RULES when you share a bed with THE Vil Schoenheit
He exclusively sleeps on his back because he needs to protect his skin at all costs
He may allow you to cuddle him, but make sure you’re moisturised!
He MAY make an exception and lay against you but ONLY if your pyjamas are made from the finest mulberry silk
Only the best for his skin
Epel Felmier
Desperately tries to be the big spoon
Literally won’t accept being the little spoon
Thinks its more manly if he is the big spoon
He looks very cute when he sleeps but don’t tell him that
He will never sleep again if you do
Rook Hunt
Tbh this guy is flexible, he’s happy being either the big or little spoon
He can appreciate the benefits of both positions
But like… Probably limit the spooning to your bedroom instead of his
Because his bedroom is a bit… Y’know
Definitely has taken pictures of you whilst you’re sleeping
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Ignihyde
Idia Shroud
Little spoon little spoON LITTLE SPOON
Such little spoon energy omg
He’s kinda awkward at first because he’s so touch starved so he was a bit twitchy when you touched him
But as soon as he gets used to it he coils around you like a snake
There is no escape
Sleeps at absolutely awful hours though, has no concept of a bedtime
You may have to physically drag him to bed
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Diasomnia
Malleus Draconia
Big spoon but only out of sheer necessity
He can only sleep a certain way because of his horns, y’know?
Oh how he WISHES he could be a little spoon
How he dreams of falling asleep, head cuddled into your chest, listening to your heartbeat…
But alas, he settles for wrapping his arms so tightly around you that you can barely escape
Is grumpy about it but nothing an enthusiastic hug won’t fix
Silver
Both
Not through any preference but because he drifts off to sleep at the speed of light so sometimes you just have to climb into bed and spoon him
Other times he will fall asleep on you
He doesn’t mind either way, every time he’ll wake up with a smile on his face
If he finds out you have a preference, he’ll try his best but he is just a sleepy boy
Sebek Zigvolt
Oh jeez
If he finds out that his Waka-sama is a big spoon, then he will proclaim that he is ALSO is a big spoon!
In actuality, he’d secretly love to be a little spoon sometimes
So ironically, he’s closer to his Waka-sama then he realises
He’s an excellent big spoon though
And when the weather is cold, he’ll use huddling for warmth as an excuse just to spoon you
Lilia Vanrouge
A nightmare
Big spoon, little spoon, silly spoon
Likely to try and make you spoon in odd positions
Has tried to convince you to try spooning with him upside down at least three times
Is a good spoon when he takes it seriously though
But he comes to bed at all sorts of odd hours so there really isn’t a routine
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hrefna-the-raven · 2 months
Text
Mask
Horror masterlist - Masterlist - Misc. masterlist
RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader
Part 1
Words: 1248
Warnings: very mild and short descriptions about violence
Summary: you seem to be the only person who's able to communicate with Michael and so you continued to take care of him on Dr Loomis' orders
Reader: short female reader in mind, but no specific descriptions are used
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The following days and weeks passed with the same routine. You were overseeing Michael in the observation room until Doctor Loomis would arrive for the therapy session. Occasionally, the doctor would even request that you stay, hoping that Michael would open up in your presence. He did, although the doctor was too engrossed in his own theories to notice it each time, but you saw all of it. The little amused huffs behind the mask whenever you challenged him with a question, the silent chuckles and crinkling eyes whenever you told one of your jokes and the way his breath hitched as soon as your hand found his in an innocent touch. All the while a frustrated Loomis sat across the table, huffing as he scribbled down in his notebook, so much to write and yet no wisdom to share, only speculations.
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The conflict within Michael kept raging on, torn between his urge to kill and the growing fondness for you. You were a thorn in his flesh of bloody sin and yet, you soothed his mind and your touch left a sense of longing burning beneath his skin. Your fingertips brushing the side of his hand as he tried to help you make your own mask felt electrifying, a spark straight to his rotten heart, nourishing its dying flesh. His heart raced, threatening to burst out of his chest while his breaths grew heavier. As his eyes finally locked on yours, the entire world around him froze, time trickling away while you observed him, your perfect lips slightly parted, realising what was happening to him, what you did to him.
"Well mine doesn't look as good as yours but I still have time to learn from the master", you giggled, holding your mask up for him to see, "shall we try them on?"
A faint smile spread across his lips, well hidden beneath the painted paper on his face. The way you giggled so carelessly in his presence, the graceful movements of your hands, making the piece of paper-mâché seemingly dance in the air, Michael could feel a knot forming in his stomach. He had never felt like this, not even prior to that one fateful Halloween. Although his heart suddenly jumped as he observed your cheerful expression falter, replaced by a hint of fear. Would this be the inevitable moment of truth where you'd finally realise how ugly he truly was on the outside and deep within?
"I...I should turn around", you murmured, "sorry I forgot for a moment that you don't like showing your face."
His fingers moved up to grasp your chin, preventing you from turning your head away. Observing your initial confusion, he handed you his new mask and slowly removed his old one. A hushed gasp slipped passed your lips, eyes wide in shock as you gazed upon Michael's real face for the very first time. He let out a rasped groan as your fingertips graced his forehead, brushing the long blonde strands of hair away to tuck them behind his ears. His handsome face bore a rough charm, tiny dark stubble adorned his broad jaw and chin, his lips trembling ever so slightly while his icy blue eyes locked onto yours. He noticed your flustered expression and the heat rising to your cheeks as you leaned closer and put the mask over his head, but you didn't pull it down immediately.
"That...uhm...is a very beautiful face", you whispered, "thanks for allowing me to see it...for the trust."
You pulled the mask down and right before it covered his face entirely, you saw his lips curl into a wide smile. As you were about to put your own mask on, the metal door swung open and Loomis entered with Cruz following closely behind.
"Thank you nurse", the doctor called out while Cruz simply waved at you with a smile, "you can take your leave now. Mister Cruz will take care of Michael in the coming days and I will commence the daily therapy session now. Happy Halloween!"
You sensed Michael tense beside you, the breaths under the mask becoming more erratic with each second of silence passing. Your hand found his, squeezing it gently while his gaze met yours at the subtle reassuring touch.
"I'll take a week off from this evening on, but", you spoke calmly, sensing his rising panic, "I know tomorrow is Halloween, soooo....after discussing it with Dr Loomis, I got the approval to drop by and visit you, in my Halloween costume. And of course I gonna bring you some candy."
You offered a gentle smile while your hand remained on his but it wasn't nearly enough to quell the anger burning within Michael in this moment. He had trusted you, opened himself up to you, and now, like everyone else in his life, you were about to leave him again. Leaving him all to himself and his darkness again? The thought of being abandoned consumed him, causing his teeth to grind and his once warm eyes turned cold and lifeless. His hand instinctively moved towards your neck while his mind exploded with images of how he could simply smash you head first into the table. The cracking sound of your skull, the crimson trickling from every wound, pooling around your face in perfect contrast against the dark grey metal underneath, all mingling with the sweet melody of your panicked last breaths, realising your life was drained away by his hand, the very one you're still holding onto right now.
"If you write me down your favourite candy, I gonna try and get that one for us. Promised!"
Your soft voice snapped him out of his murderous trail of thoughts back into reality and he felt his hold on your neck loosen, gently caressing your skin before retreating. Steel blue eyes blinked at you a few times, the love and gentleness slowly returning to them and with a loud sigh Michael leaned forward, hastily scribbling a few words on a piece of paper before sliding it towards you. The chuckle escaping your lips went straight through his chest, it being the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, forgetting all the pain and doubt it had caused within him just a few seconds ago.
"Oh those two are my favourites too", your finger tapped on the paper, "you have an excellent taste in sweets, Mr Myers."
He rolled his eyes in response but you could almost see the smirk peeking out from behind the paper-mâché.
"I'll see you tomorrow then. Make sure to wear your scariest mask", you winked at him before heading towards the doors.
Before the door fell shut, Loomis slipped through it, calling out for you. It amazed you how this man knew so much and so little at the same time about his most famous patient. He listened, analysed and yet, he never seemed to truly see or hear Michael. Maintaining a friendly and professional expression on your face, you continued to listen as he provided additional instructions for your visit the following day.
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As you laid in bed that night, a stash of candy and sweets stowed away and ready, excitement bubbled in your stomach while your restless mind got lost in the anticipation of your first private meeting with Michael, outside your nurse outfit and the obligation to watch over him. It would simply be you and him having as much Halloween fun as a place like Smith's Grove would allow.
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Part 3 - Home (18+)
205 notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 8 months
Text
narcotics | arsenal x reader
summary: reader has a drug problem.. her arsenal teammates help her to realise and overcome it
warnings: mentions of drugs use and abuse
this was so tough to write for me and hit home sooo fucking hard buttt also very fulfilling so i hope you enjoy
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You’d never intended for it to get this bad.
Injury, surgery, recovery, drugs.
So many drugs.
That was what happened when you had major surgery, when you were an athlete, they showered you with every single kind of drug that they could, to distract from the pain and to try and start the recovery process as soon as possible. It was good, especially post surgery when you felt absolutely no pain, it was great, and it allowed you to be a lot more mobile after the operation than you would have been if you hadn't been medicated.
It was good, being pain free was so incredibly good.
That was all you could focus on, your whole recovery revolved around being pain free, tearing your tricep was a pain in the ass, but as far as football was regarded, you were hopeful to return to the pitch as soon as possible.
You didn’t need your arm to kick a football or play on the pitch, so the whole entire focus of your recovery was to make the pain bearable so you could return to the field as soon as possible.
For this reason, the doctors just kept refilling your scripts, handing you bottles and bottles upon pills, it was their job to get you back on the field to help Arsenal redeem themselves from the fall from the champions league.
You were back on the pitch in three weeks, which was almost psychotic considering that your tricep scars were still bandaged and covered in gauze.
It was procedural for you, you fell into a routine of relying on the drugs to get you through a game, to take off the edge of the pain that originated in your arm.
It was fine, it was good.
For months, the doctors filled the bottles for you, they kept filling them, past the point of where you medically needed them anymore, it was just routine for you, just a part of your day.
You woke up, and you took pills with your morning protein shake and breakfast, then you car pooled to London Colney with Beth and Viv. Once you arrived at training you ate a protein bar, which you consumed another set of pills with. Then typically as a team there would be a morning gym session, after gym there was lunch, where you would consume another set of pills. Then there was training, afterwards before recovery you inhaled another set of pills.
It didn’t really worry you, you needed the pills, they were the reason you were able to play, they were the only thing that was keeping you on the pitch.
It felt that way to you at least, even if you were months past the injury, it just felt like you needed them, that without them you would be hopeless.
So, even as the weeks passed by you continued your routine, but as every day passed by it was clear that your teammates were becoming more aware of your reliance, the concern and questions becoming far more frequent.
You insisted that you were fine, that it was the doctor's orders, even if the doctor had told you months ago that you needed to eventually wean yourself off the pills.
He was the same doctor though who continued to fill your scripts and hand you pills like they were candies.
Eventually you would stop, you would, some time, it was just something to get you through the day, something to make it easier for you to deal with everything that was happening in your life.
The first time the word addiction was thrown at you was in the most abnormal situation.
You were sitting in the locker rooms, early on a wednesday morning the likes of Katie, Jen, Beth and Alessia surrounding you as you all casually joked around.
It was all common conversation, trivial basic stuff, until Katie pivoted towards you, her whole body turning in your direction as she sent a question your way.
“Y/n, is there any history of addiction in your family?”
It’s spoken so casually, and for whatever reason you’re the only person in the group taking a double take over what she’d just asked you.
Everybody else was just kind of waiting for your answer, all eyes on you as they watched on carefully.
“No, why?”
Katie just nods her head, her eyes not leaving you and the curiosity in them.
“Just curious, Less and I were talking earlier about it, one of her cousins struggled with it majorly after having surgery, just interesting to think about, it’s just a really tough topic.”
It was blatantly obvious that there was an underlying message underneath her words, at the time though you had been completely oblivious to it.
“Yeah, well I couldn’t give any info on that, both of my parents were in the army and were as clean as whistles, my two brothers were the same, and as far as my aunts and uncles go I’m fairly certain they’ve never touched any drugs beyond paracetamol and tylenol.”
Your words are measured, calculated, trying to decrypt the overarching question lying beneath the surface of Katie’s random spiel.
“It’s definitely interesting to think about, considering how many surgeries our team has encountered in the last little while.”
Katie is digging around, for something, but you aren’t quite sure what.
“I’m not the one to ask about it, Viv and Beth are the ones who have been doing all the research.”
Katie seems to get the message that you don’t want to talk, but you can’t ignore the way she continues to look at you with a mixture of concern and annoyance whilst you tugged on your uniform and trainers.
When you thought her eyes had slipped from you, you turned into your locker, taking a sip of water before pulling two pills from your bag and slipping them past your lips as discreetly as you could.
You thought you were discreet, but when you turned back around to head out of the rooms and into the gym, and realised that all of your teammates' eyes were on you, you realised that this whole ordeal had become quite the spectacle.
You ignored the on looking eyes, especially those of Katie and Beth’s, which were practically burning holes through your body.
You avoided their eye contact, knowing that if you met their eyes it would give them a space to confront you, something which you were looking to avoid for as long as possible.
You somehow managed to make it into the gym without any further troubles, but when you did make it inside the gym you were met with some similar looks from your teammates and captains who were already occupying the space.
You got straight into your program, your mind reeling about how exactly your teammates had come to the point of pretty much accusing you of addiction.
You weren’t addicted.
You just needed the pills to take the edge off, there was nothing wrong with knowing your body's limit. Sure, you’d been told it was safest to start weaning off them after about a month on them, but you needed them, you needed them to be the same you, the old you, the pre-injury you.
You weren’t an addict, addicts were frantic and uncontrolled and definitely couldn’t play football.
The gym plan for you was fairly simple, a lot of tricep exercises and some upper body work that you finished off fairly quickly, within the hour you were heading back to the locker rooms, to grab your jumper and some pills before heading off to the lunch room to see what the chefs had cooked up today.
Kim, Leah, Katie, Viv, Beth and Jen were all sitting inside the rooms, the six of them hushedly talking between themselves. You did your best to ignore them, beelining straight towards your locker, throwing on your hoodie first before reaching into the pocket in your bag where you’d left the container early.
You felt around, confused for a few seconds when you didn’t immediately feel it.
You shoved your hand deep into the pocket, again your fingers touched nothing but the mesh of the inside pocket in your bag. At this stage, your hands begin to shake, you pull your hand out of the empty pocket, maybe you put them somewhere else.
You begin to rifle through your bag, searching incessantly for the one pill bottle that you need so desperately.
It’s not in your bag, three searches confirm that.
Maybe it’s fallen into your locker somewhere?
You pull out your things from the cube, searching desperately for your sweet relief.
This can’t seriously be happening, how the fuck could you have possibly lost them?
“Kid, what are you looking for?”
You ignore Beth’s question, continuing to toss your locker, even though it’s blatantly obvious that they aren’t hiding anywhere, they’re gone.
“Kid, what’s wrong?”
You pivot on your heel to address Beth, but your eyes are glued to Leah’s hands, or more so what Leah has resting in her hands.
The little orange bottle, the sacred fucking bottle.
“This whatcha looking for?”
You try your very hardest not to slip up, not to give it away too much, not when it’s very likely that whatever this is, it’s a test.
“Why have you got my pills?”
You decide to pivot with a question, it seems like the best decision.
“Why are you still on pills?”
Leah’s words are cut throat, they hit you hard.
“Because of my surgery.”
It’s an ominous answer, maybe it’ll save you from the vice captain's anger, maybe it won’t.
“You had surgery four months ago.”
Leah’s words, whilst they are a statement, hold questioning behind them.
“I don’t see how anything between my doctor and myself matters to you, he’s given me a script for medication, one that I use.”
It’s definitely the wrong thing to say, Leah looks offended, Kim looks like she’s about to kill you, Beth and Viv just look sad, Katie and Jen look like they don’t really know what to say.
“It’s not our fucking business? You should have been off pills three months ago, it’s my blood business to know when my teammates are continuing to take drugs way past the point of it being logical.”
Kim’s voice is angry, but not the kind of anger where it’s directed at you, it’s more the kind of angry where she clearly wants answers that you aren’t giving her.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, my doctors fill my scripts, beyond that it’s none of your business what I take and don’t take to get through sessions.”
Kim’s face scrunches up, Leah’s looks similar, it’s funny to you sometimes how similarly they captain.
“You haven’t had any complications, you should have been completely pain free months ago, why do you still need pills? Why do you need them so frequently? Don’t think that we all haven’t realised how often you are taking them, you’re going through them like a bag of candies, it’s not healthy.”
Kim’s right, it leaves you a little bit gobsmacked and takes you a little bit to recover from what she’s saying to you.
“I’m playing well, am I not? Beyond how I am playing on the pitch it’s none of your fucking business.”
When you think about it, swearing at Kim was possibly the stupidest thing you could have done, but you suppose there isn’t any coming back from it now.
“It’s not my fucking business? Beyond being your captain I give a shit about your health and mental wellbeing, so when I see one of my best mates and teammates looking like they are fucking addicted then I am allowed to ask questions, questions that you are going to answer or else we will be having a very different conversation, one that includes Jonas and the medical staff and I promise you that it will end with a very different result.”
Kim’s words hit you right in the chest, you force yourself to take a seat, looking at the six women and taking in the guilty look across both Viv, Katie, Beth and Jen’s faces.
“You guys fucking ratted on me, for nothing? I’m not fucking addicted, people who are addicted are frantic and stupid and fucking unhinged. Do you think if I had a pill addiction that I’d be able to play, do you think I’d be able to do half the things we do if I had an addiction, I just need them to get me through the day, to get me through the work outs.”
Your justification is weak, you know that, but you still believe in what you are saying, you don’t have a problem.
Kim’s face deflates, it looks like whatever she is about to say is going to be a lot more emotional and heavy then you are prepared for.
“Kid, you have a problem. How you manage to do it all baffles me, truly, you should not need pills to be getting you through the day, not when you are in recovery, not when your tricep is almost fully healed, Beth and Katie told me about it because they are genuinely worried, I am too. We’re all here for you, whatever you need.”
You shake your head, you don’t need help, you don’t need support, what you need is your fucking pills back.
“Can I have my fucking pills back?”
Leah shoves the bottle into her pocket, you know that you aren’t getting them back but it was worth a try.
“Are you fucking serious?”
It’s apparently Katie’s turn to be the bad cop.
“They fucking belong to me.”
Katie looks absolutely fuming, if it wasn’t for the whole situation you were in you would probably laugh about it.
“Not anymore they don’t, you’ve lost that fucking priviledge. This is how it’s going to go from now on. You’re going to move in with Beth and Viv for now, Lia’s searching your apartment as we speak, you’re done with pills, no more, you’re cut off. You’re going to get a fucking handle on your life and all of this shit or else you’ll be benched and sent to rehab or wherever Jonas thinks is the best place for you to sort out your fucking addiction, because that’s what this is. You can’t survive four hours without slipping some pills, that is seriously fucking concerning and all of us are so fucking worried about you. If you want to continue playing then there are going to be a whole set of rules and conditions because this can’t keep going, it’s unsafe.”
All the other women nod along with Katie’s words, you realised that you are definitely fucked.
“I’m a fucking adult, you guys have no right to be doing this to me, I don’t have a fucking problem.”
Katie rolls her eyes, standing up from her seat to walk over to you.
“Kid I am so sorry none of us realised earlier, maybe if we had it wouldn’t have been so bad, but you have to understand how bad it is, you should not be reliant on drugs that are prescribed to a person after a serious surgery, your attached. Not all addicts are frantic, you definitely aren’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that you have a problem and if you don’t stop it now, you never will. We all want to help you, however you need.”
You don’t really know what to do, everything Katie is saying hits you so hard, you can’t help but let tears fall, they’re wrong, you don’t have a problem, you need the pills, how are you supposed to be okay without them?
“Please, just give me the pills, I’ll do whatever you want, please, I need them, I’ll do anything please just give them back.”
Katie wraps you up in her arms, so tight that you worry about your ability to breathe, it makes everything stop for a few seconds, you forget about the pills, forget about how much internal pain you are struggling with.
“You know I can’t do that kid. How about we get you home? I don’t think you're in the mindset to train, Viv and Beth will leave with you, they’ll take you back to theirs whilst we finish up here for the day and then we’ll all have a chat about it later, okay?”
You pull yourself out of Katie’s arms, your face in a deep frown.
“You don’t understand, I fucking need them, I can’t live without them, what am I supposed to do without them? This is fucking crazy how am I supposed to play when you’re all forcing me to go cold turkey on the one thing that I rely on most.”
Katie’s hands move to your shoulders, planting themselves down firmly on you.
“No you don’t. It’s going to be a hard adjustment but it’s for the best. If we’re right and you are addicted, you’ll go through withdrawals, it’ll suck, but we’ll be here for you through it, we’re here to kick you in the ass but pick you up when you are hurting, we’re here for whatever you need.”
In a split second decision you lunge forward and directly at Leah, the blonde doesn’t expect it, and definitely doesn’t expect you to reach right for the pocket that you’d previously seen Leah push the pills in.
You don’t really know what your plans where for once you’d managed to obtain the bottle, but you knew one thing, you needed those pills and Leah was standing in the way of that.
Within seconds Jen and Kim’s arms were linked around yours, pulling your desperate form off of Leah.
“Please-Fuck please just give them to me, I’ll do whatever you need, please, I need them. I don’t need you guys, you guys don’t give a shit about me, I’m fine, I don’t want our help, just give me the drugs and leave me be, I’ll be fine, I’m always fine, I don’t need you guys. J-Just give me the pills and I’ll leave, I’ll never bother you guys again. ”
Kim managed to tug you completely away from Leah, whilst the older woman is significantly smaller than you, she was far stronger and you stood absolutely no chance against her.
You ragdolled in an attempt to make it harder for Kim, she replied to that by dragging your limp body up onto a seat, resting both of her hands on your soldiers just like Katie had, except for the fact that instead of Kim’s face being one of care and genuity, hers was stern and concerned.
“You don’t get to do this. You do not get to push us away because you want a fucking dose of drugs. We are family, family means so much more than some stupid object and the kid who worked her way here through the academy would have told me the exact same eight months ago. I know you have been through a lot, I know this injury has sucked, I know that you are going through a lot but you can’t push family away. We’re going to be here for you when you are at your biggest high and your lowest low, we are here through thick and thin. I can stand for you breaking down at ever minute of everyday if it means that we can help you, you can hurt us all as much as you want and we will continue to come back because whilst you might think that you are breaking us, you aren’t.”
Kim’s words just send tears running down your face and sobs coming out of your mouth.
Everything from the last hour is barreling directly at you, the realisation that maybe you aren’t as fine as you’ve been telling yourself, even if it feels wrong, you know what they are telling you makes sense, it hurts way more admitting that to yourself though.
Kim removes her arms from your shoulders, reaching for your torso and bringing you into another big hug, it’s suffocatingly painful and you swear that your skin prickles with the contact.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry.”
You don’t know what you are sorry for, which probably makes the apology pointless, but it feels like it needs to be said, like you need to make some kind of attempt to recognise your wrongdoing.
“It’s okay kid, we’ve got you, it’s going to be okay, we’re all here for you, let’s get you back to Beth’s, hmm? I think you could do with a good nap and a proper feed. You’ve been working yourself to the bone, it’s time to let yourself rest. Take it from me, this whole routine you have for yourself, the over working, the pills, it’s only so long before you completely burn yourself out and trust a woman who’s been there, that is the last possible thing you could want, especially considering you are so young.”
Kim’s opinion and words are gospel to you, being another midfielder ever since you’d become a part of the arsenal senior team you hung onto every single word that she spoke, so having the Kim Little calling you family, it was something else completely.
“Please, just take me home.”
Kim nods, pulling back from you to reach into your locker to grab your bag before handing it over to Beth who gives you a little smile, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes though, that’s how you know that whatever is happening, it’s not good at all.
You try your hardest to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, but it’s a losing battle, the salty liquid continuing to flow freely down your cheeks.
Viv replaces Kim, her arm flinging itself over your shoulders and shielding you from the outside world.
Without much fuss the couple pulls you out of the locker rooms and as quickly as they can towards the car park and back to the same car you’d arrived in this morning, this time though it’s so much harder, it feels nearly impossible, especially knowing that instead of the normal routine that entails the couple dropping you back to your apartment, this time you are going back to theirs.
Normally, you’re very happy to participate in a dinner or game night with the duet, but you know what going back to Viv and Beth’s means, it means accountability, change, pain, things you aren’t really sure if you’re ready for.
Viv makes the decision to slide into the back seat with you, a constant comfort as you try to navigate exactly what has just happened.
The ride to Viv’s and Beth’s is a blur, Viv drags you out of the backseat and into the elevator, then into their apartment.
You're too lost to do much more than let Viv lead you to the couch dropping Myle into your lap, who is apparently more than happy to cuddle up under the blanket that Beth throws at you.
All you can think about is what your teammates had to say. About the nights where you’d doubled up on pills to mask the mental pain of all the pressure you were taking on of leading a midfield without Kim, about how you felt like you would cripple up and break if you went a day without your pills, about how for the last few months the highlights of your day has been the pills in the bottle instead of the people around you, about how you’ve been finding more happiness in drugs instead of the life you are living, about how your whole life revolves around pain meds which you didn’t even need anymore.
Addicted wasn’t a word you had ever used in a sentence with you and drugs before, but now, it’s all that you can think about.
Addiction.
It had never been a possibility for you, how could you be addicted? Nobody you knew had ever had problems with pills, you’d done countless injuries including pain meds and never had a problem. No injury you’d ever done had such a negative reception though, the fans were fuming, your teammates were stressed, you were pressured. You needed to recover, for the good of everybody, pain meds were the way to get through that so you’d taken them, to fix all of the problems.
That was the reasoning your brain was using, it wasn’t perfect, but it made enough sense.
Beth sat down next to you and you felt at peace enough to meet her eyes.
They were calmer than before, you felt similarly, calmer, less like you were at war with yourself.
“I was so stupid that I didn’t even realise, I thought I was doing fine, I was so fucking stupid.”
Beth takes a deep gulp of air before she says anything, it’s hard to watch somebody who you’ve come to care about so dearly look like they are struggling so heavily to communicate with you.
“You’re not stupid. It’s not your fault. A lot of people enabled this to keep happening and you couldn’t have known better, what matters most is we are here for you now, the sooner before the later.”
You nod along to Beth, bringing a asleep Myle up to your chest and clutching onto him, the puppy is so soft, a big contrast to how you feel at the moment.
“I didn’t want to let everyone down.”
Beth sighs an oh so familiar sigh, the same sigh you heard every single time someone out of the acl crew mentioned how they felt like they were a burden or a problem or like they were letting the team down.
“You could never let any of us down, not really, sure we’re all very worried about you, but shit happens, life fucking happens. Every single day we all struggle, every person on this world, life is a bitch and the worst part is that we have people holding us accountable for it every single day. Fans, social media, teammates, we don’t get a break, even when we need it the very most. As teammates, it's our job to love you no matter what anybody is saying, you are different to every single human on earth, you have different needs, you don’t have to try to be someone you aren’t, we love you best when you try not to. Do not think for a moment that you will ever disappoint us, sure we can be angry and annoyed and disappointed with your actions but never you directly. We all love you no matter what, just be whoever you need to, not who you think everyone needs you too.”
You don’t know what to say, so you chose to say silent for a few seconds, really observing what Beth has just said, the complete honesty behind her words.
“I want to do better for you guys Beth, I don’t want to be reliant on drugs that I don’t need, I just don’t know how to live without them.”
Beth nods, her eyes all glazed and watery.
“Then we’ll help you, we’ll do whatever is necessary to help you, just let us in, let us be there for you.”
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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months
Text
Pet Problems III
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: Meeting the kittens is very stressful
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It's pretty sweet, the way Ale is so attentive to the kittens.
Kiara ended up with seven of Bagheera's babies (though, thankfully, for everyone's sanity, none of them ended up looking like their father) and Alexia took care with each of them.
She checked in on them routinely at night.
She made sure that they all ate enough.
She made sure none of them got bullied and, when it was clear that the sole white kitten was a bit of a runt, she bottle-fed it until it was able to hold its own and begin weaning.
This also meant that she was quite protective of them all, not allowing anyone to visit until the kittens were past five weeks.
"Hola," Eli greeted, kissing you on the cheeks as she and Alba stepped through the door, greeting a yapping Nala," I am surprised you let us in."
You rolled your eyes, jerking your chin over to where Alexia was hovering by the door to the spare room. "Miss grumpy pants over there almost didn't let me. You're the first people to meet the litter. She's worrying."
Eli looked at her oldest daughter fondly. "Yes, Alexia always was a worrier."
"Did you wash your hands?" Alexia asked, barricading Alba's way when her sister tried to barge past. "You can't touch them if you haven't washed your hands." Her arms crossed over her chest as she sniffed the air. "Are you sick? You smell sick. You can't meet them if you're sick, Alba."
"Baby," You cooed, sliding between the two sisters and wrapping your arms tightly around Alexia's waist," Alba's very healthy. She's washed her hands. Let her meet the little ones."
Alexia's eye twitched before an arm was thrown over your shoulder and she opened the door a crack.
A pack of ginger fur tumbled around on the ground as you all stepped inside. A speckled flash of orange and white ran over to Eli, clawing up her pant legs in a hurry as a similarly coloured kitten chased after it.
Kiara lounged on the guest room bed, tail flicking side to side in pure boredom. As soon as she noticed the door open, she made a break for it - shoving past Nala and escaping her babies if only for a moment or two.
Alexia's favourite of the litter - the little runty white one mewed insistently at her until it was snug in the arms.
"Oh, Alexia," Eli said, holding two kittens in her hands before passing one off to Alba, who similarly cooed," They're absolutely darling." She kissed the kitten on the nose. "Are you keeping any?"
"Just this one." Alexia lifted the white one up with a smile. "She's too pretty to give away."
You rolled your eyes. "And she says she's not a cat person." You grinned at Alexia, who just rolled her eyes at you before laying a kiss to your crown.
"You're sending the rest away?" Alba looked positively heartbroken.
"Not really," You replied as Kiara sauntered back into the room, leaping up onto the cabinet before laying across your shoulders. "Ingrid and Mapi are taking one." You jerked your thumb to one of the pure ginger ones. "And Frido and her boyfriend are taking one too."
"Patri wants one," Alexia said.
"You didn't tell me that."
"I haven't decided if she deserves one yet."
You rolled your eyes. "Alexia," You said," That's not how it works."
"Keeping them close to home, huh?" Alba said," I'll take one. Since you're offering."
Alexia glared at her sister. "We weren't offering."
"Come on! I'd be a great kitten owner!"
"You're not nearly home enough to have one!"
Eli rolled her eyes fondly at her daughters arguing as she reached up to stroke Kiara's ears. "And how is the Mama?"
"The Mama," You laughed," Is doing very well. I think she's realised that if she dumps them all on Ale, she gets a free babysitter for a few hours."
Eli laughed. "Well, for what it's worth," She lowered her voice and winked," I'll take two of them."
●~●~●~●~
Alexia was, perhaps, even more stressed when it came time for the rest of the team to meet the kittens. It had been a few more weeks since Alba and Eli came around and the kittens had completely taken over the apartment.
"Just-Just..." Her hand fluttered anxiously at the front door," Be nice. No screaming or yelling or loud noises." She gave Mapi a pointed look. "And don't throw them into the air to catch them."
She pushed open the door and could do little to control the onslaught of football players pushing into her apartment.
"Hi, girls," You chirped in greeting from the kitchen table. Kiara lay next to you as Marie (the white kitten) sat atop your shoulder.
"Hi, y/n," The girls chorused before hurrying off in search of the rest of the litter.
"Hi," Alexia said softly, sidling up behind you and kissing your neck," I missed you."
"I missed you too, baby," You replied, turning to kiss her properly as Marie clambered up from your shoulder to your head.
Alexia smiled down at you and plucked Marie into her arms. "Are you busy?"
"Sorry, baby. Yeah, I am. You'll have to supervise kitten play by yourself."
She huffed but didn't force you to join, carting Marie off to meet the others while Kiara sat next to your computer.
It was organised carnage in the living room as Ingrid and Mapi fawned over each and every one of Bagheera's kittens while Frido, Patri and Pina threw a ball for one to chase after.
Lucy, Keira, Oshoala and Paredes supervised Ona, Jana and Bruna playing with some more.
"So," Mapi said with a grin," We get to take this one home, right?" She lifted up one of the ginger boys.
"After they've finished getting their vaccinations," Alexia reminded her," And after you get Bagheera neutered."
"Hey! Without Bagheera, we wouldn't have these little cuties!"
"And we don't want anymore," Alexia replied," One litter is enough."
Mapi rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatever you say." The ginger tom batted at her, claws getting tangled in her hair and yanking. Mapi's face lit up like a child at Christmas. "He's gonna be a hunter like his dad!"
"I fear for the wildlife at Mapi's house," You said as you approached, having just finished your work for the day," Hopefully, that one gets Kiara's love for flower hunting rather than Bagheera's love of mice."
"I think we should more hope that Marie hunts flowers," Alexia replied," If Mapi gets dead mice, that's her fault." She cooed softly as Marie clambered from her arms onto your shoulder - mimicking Kiara in almost every action she took.
"Make sure to keep an eye on them," You said as you began to head back to the kitchen," I wouldn't put it past Patri or Mapi to try to smuggle one out under their shirts."
"Wait...Where are you going?"
"To get the pizza menus. I've got the feeling that we're not getting rid of anyone anytime soon."
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writingforrhys · 1 year
Text
as you were
cassian x reader warnings: none! just some arguing and very sassy bat boys LOL. and some nesta and elain slander oh and quite a bit of swearing contents: welcome to a long awaited part 2 of smaller than this! i finally wrote the comfort to the hurt. please enjoy!
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Cassian couldn't find you anywhere.
He was sweaty, and disgusting, and disheveled after a long morning of training with his brothers. Azriel had been on point this particular session, seemingly being able to read Cassian's mind and know his every next move. He'd been put to the floor more times than he could count and all he wanted was to find you, bathe, and throw himself under the covers for some comfort and some really good sex.
The Illyrian had flown down to the Rainbow in search of your favourite bakery for some custard treat that he knew you couldn't get enough of and a bunch of your favourite flowers. And now, he couldn't fucking find you.
There was nothing better to Cassian than that shy look you'd get on your face when he'd turn up with gifts in hand, like you couldn't believe you were the one he was giving them to. The way you'd wring your hands together and rock on your feet, reaching towards him with that big, bright smile and a welcome home kiss, just to rush off to put your flowers in some water or show Rhys exactly what he'd bought you.
Gods, he needed to find you.
He felt like he'd searched the house 3 times over. He'd gone to the library, the kitchens, even Rhys's study and still no sight of you. It had barely hit noon and he knew your routine ridiculously well. You should've been pottering somewhere.
He found himself standing outside of your shared bedroom, concerned that perhaps you'd fallen ill, or caught on to one of Az's headaches, and had retired to your bed for the day. He craned his ears to search for any signs of life from the room; put off by the lack of light funnelling through the gaps of the door.
Cassian was just about ready to haul ass and search for you again elsewhere, when he heard it. It... you... a sniffle?
The door slowly creaked open, warm light from the hall washing over the unmoving mass under the sheets. Cassian moved as gently as he could, (albeit he was not very gentle at all), and found only the top of your head peeking through.
"Are you okay, honey? Not feeling well?"
His kind words and tender tone made you want to cry even more and you had to resist the urge to not look over the sheets and take a look at his beautiful face.
"I'm fine, Cass." And there it was. Mistake, mistake, mistake.
Any other person would've walked away. Any other person would have wished you farewell and hoped you got better. Any other person wouldn't concern themselves over the inflection of your voice. But not Cassian.
No, Cassian heard it all. Saw it all. He heard the shaking of your speech, the uncertainty. Could hear the wetness. And, he could bet that if he pulled back the bed covers, he'd find you tear-stained and choked up and utterly humiliated. And he was always right when it came to you.
And now, as panic blossomed in his chest, he took a seat next to your unmoving form and placed a hand just atop your body. He was careful not to remove the covers; he didn't need you closing off even more.
"You wanna tell me what happened, my love?"
A head shake.
"Did someone do this to you? Has someone made you upset?"
Silence.
"Who."
You removed the covers now, no further down than the top of your chest he noticed, and the sight of you broke his heart. You were all sniffles and puffy faced and hair so unkempt it could make a Naga run back to the woods. You'd obviously been here a while - alone and vulnerable. His heart broke again.
"It's okay, Cassie, really. They didn't mean any harm. I wasn't even supposed to hear it."
"They?" He was furious. Utterly and blindingly furious. Whoever had made you cry was very soon certain to wish they were never born.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed, realising this was a battle not easily won. Cassian was not the type to let things go easily, especially when it came to you, and you weren't foolish enough to hope that he would just leave it alone.
"Nesta and Elain," Your voice was just a whisper, eyes still closed, "They... they were talking about me. Didn't have many nice points."
The Illyrian was the picture of silent rage. His heart a furnace; one doing a terrific job at boiling the blood under his skin.
"What did they say?"
You were hesitant now, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more true. Your eyes peeked open, looking everywhere but Cass, until a large hand took purchase upon your cheek, tilting your face to meet his encouraging stare.
Your voice wobbled as you told him what they'd said - the descriptions that had hurt you the most. More tears streamed down your face at this and a calloused thumb reached to wipe every one away.
Once you had finished, Cassian stood silently, leaning down to plant a kiss to your hairline, and made a beeline for the door.
"Where are you going?" You wiped at your tired eyes.
"I'm off to kill some sisters."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The door to the living room had slammed open so fast that the walls of the house had shaken. Every head in the room had whipped to a seething Cassian in the doorway.
Rhysand was the first to stand and reach out his hand tentatively, as if taming a beast, "What's wrong, brother?"
Cassian's gaze didn't even land upon the High Lord. His line of sight shot right to the sofa behind him, carrying Feyre and Lady Death herself.
"You."
Nesta wasn't someone who showed much emotion in her face. Her range of expressions only varied between extremely discontent and mildly satisfied. But now, with the General standing in the doorway and a thunderous stare thrust upon her, she didn't know how to hide the amount of emotion bubbling up to her face.
Seeing her sister's agitation, the High Lady also rose to her feet and stepped forward. One of her hands rested upon Cassian's arm, gently rubbing as she lead him into the room.
"You need to tell us what the problem is, or we can't fix it."
"What's the problem, Feyre?" He scoffed, "She's my fucking problem."
The Illyrian's voice was raising with every word he spat. His voice had reached the adjourned kitchens, where Azriel and Elain now tentatively filtered out. Elain monitored the situation carefully, and quickly took a seat next to Nesta, grasping one of her hands in her own.
"Cassian, perhaps you need to calm down. I'm sure Nesta will be more comfortable to talk to you then." Elain's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Oh, go bake some fucking bread, Elain!"
"Cassian," Azriel spoke, "You need to choose your next words carefully."
"Really, brother? I don't think I do," He turned to Azriel, "Would you like to know what your little girlfriend has been saying about Y/N?"
The room was silent. Elain was red.
A beat passed as Azriel and Rhysand made eye contact. Azriel's shoulder's squared and his jaw ticked. Rhys laid a hand on Feyre's elbow, who was quick to leave the room with a soft mutter of I'm going to check on Y/N. The three Illyrian's were now facing the sisters on the couch, a storm brewing in the room.
"What did you say?" The shadowsinger's voice was uncomfortably steady.
"We didn't say anything. Get your guard dogs away from us." Nesta seethed at Cassian.
"You didn't... say anything?" Rhysand spoke slowly - accusatory.
Elain was nothing like her sister. Nesta could lie for days on end and not break a sweat. Often, when they were young, Nesta would spin tales about the other children in the village and see which rumour she could make spread faster. When she was confronted, Nesta had no problem lying to their faces again, or telling them exactly what she thought of them to their face. Whatever she preferred in the moment.
Elain was not like Nesta. Elain would return from school or the market, sit by the hearth on the floor, and spin her tales there. The words she spoke never left their house, not by her own voice anyway. She knew from Nesta's approving hums and nods that the next day, whatever Elain had spun would miraculously make it across the town. And she loved it.
Elain did not like consequences, and she did not like confrontation.
"We didn't say anything." She whispered. She dared not look up.
"That's funny, really," Cassian spoke to his brothers, "Nesta and Elain have decided that Y/N isn't good enough for us. For me."
"Oh, I wasn't aware that was up for them to decide, Cass."
"Neither did I, Rhys."
Azriel's face was still stony, "Would you like to tell the truth now?"
"Oh please, what we said wasn't that bad. The drama in your court is abysmal, Rhysand." The eldest Archeron bristled, "You'd think the royalty of the Night Court would have better things to do than gossip."
"Let me make one thing very clear. If I ever hear you speak ill of another member of my court again, it will be the last thing you ever do in this court." Rhys was not speaking as himself now. This was the High Lord. This was your High Lord. Undoubtedly and unapologetically loyal to you.
"Y/N is the best of us," Azriel spoke lowly, "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but you have misspoken and you've made a grave mistake. You will apologise profusely, and from this point on you will do everything you can to make this right."
Azriel left then, his long legs climbing the stairs and his footsteps following the familiar path straight to your room. Elain's face had fallen completely now, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.
"We have known Y/N for the best part of 500 years. We have known the both of you for all of 5 minutes," Rhys' eyes bore into the sisters, "She has loved us and we have loved her for longer than you've been alive. You should be surprised that I haven't already dropped you at the border."
Rhys turned then to the door, his back facing the room.
"Do not let me hear of this again."
And with that, he followed Azriel up the stairs.
The Seer glanced between her sister and the General and took her opportunity to breathe a weak apology and immediately flee the room.
Typical, Nesta thought.
"Well, whatever you have to say, I suggest you get it out."
She was right. Cassian had been far too quiet. If he left his emotions unchecked any longer, he could very well do something he would regret. Well, he wouldn't regret it that much. But he'd like to avoid the grovelling he'd have to do to Feyre.
"My life is none of your concern," He began, "Who I take to bed is none of your concern and who I spend my time with is none of your concern."
Nesta rolled her eyes.
"What?" Cassian spat, "Would you rather I profess my undying love for you instead of her? You, who has shown me nothing but hatred and contempt since the moment we met. And Y/N who has spent 5 centuries giving me kindness and a home."
She wasn't looking at him anymore, completely silent as the Illyrian grew quiet again himself.
"She means everything to me. I have never and will never tolerate anyone who attempts to jeopardise what we have. Especially not you."
"What do you even see in her?" Cassian couldn't tell whether it was a jab or a genuine question. He didn't like either.
"All I see is her," A small smile, "All I think about is her. When I leave in the morning, I think about what she might choose to wear that day. And on the way home, I think about where I'll find her. Whether she'll be reading in the library, or teaching Az how to knit for the 50th time, or baking or bathing or singing."
He didn't pause to see Nesta's face shifting to shock.
"And when I do get back, the first face I want to see is Y/N's. To see her smile or hear her laugh. Most of the time I can't believe that I'm the bastard she chose to love. That I'm the one who gets to hold her every night."
Cassian made his move to leave, but just before he reached the doorway, he turned back to look Nesta in the eye.
"Y/N is the most beautiful, loving person I've ever met. I wonder sometimes how flowers don't grow on the grass she treads. You're lucky I haven't left you dead on the floor for the way you've spoken about her."
And as you listened on the stairs, your cheeks red and smile bright, you knew.
You knew that you didn't have to travel the universe to find someone who loves you. You didn't need to have a different body or a different mind to find someone who sees you.
Because Cassian was here, in this house, loving you and seeing you. For everything you are.
He loved you just as you were.
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alessiasfreckles · 6 months
Text
amnesia - part 12 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)
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part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11
a/n: sorry for the long wait, not much left now!
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The next morning, when you looked on your doorstep, you half expected to find Alexia or Ona stood there waiting. Instead, you found the usual pastry and drink, and couldn’t help but feel the smallest tinge of disappointment. 
You’d been messaging both girls late into the night, about everything and anything, except for what had happened between the three of you. You knew you’d need to talk about it at some point, but for now, you just wanted things to be good. And so did they, by the looks of things. Accompanying the pastry and drink was a handwritten note from Ona, reading ‘Good morning chiqui! We hope you have a wonderful day today. Dinner is on us tonight x’. Interesting.
As you headed to your physio session, you tried to ignore the rising anticipation in your belly, the soft feeling of hope working its way through your body, eager to see the two women, but nervous as well. You didn’t even know if you would see them - there was a good chance they’d be outside for training, or in the gym, and so far all of your sessions had been in the smaller physiotherapy rooms.
When you arrived, the physiotherapist greeted you with an amused smile. 
“You have some admirers,” she noted, nodding towards a beautiful bouquet of flowers that was resting in a vase. You couldn’t help but blush, rolling your eyes fondly at the gesture, already knowing who was behind it. “Today we’re in the gym, but you can leave your things here and we can get them when we’re done.”
“The gym?” you asked, surprised.
The physiotherapist nodded. “Yes. You’re making very good progress - you really only have minimal injuries considering what you went through, and we can move you to the real gym now. You should be able to go back to training with the others soon, maybe in a month or so. The biggest problem is the muscle atrophy from being in the coma, but once we get your body back to where it was before, you’ll be good to go.”
Your mouth hung open in shock, and your face suddenly felt very warm as you realised that tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be back so soon, and you couldn’t wait to be able to train with the others again, to get out there and play football, the thing you loved more than anything else in the world. 
As you walked to the gym, you wondered whether the rest of the team would also be in the gym or if they’d be outside. As you got closer, your question was answered - you could hear various sounds coming from the gym, shoes against treadmills, the thud of weights hitting the ground, but also the soft murmur of your teammates chatting, the occasional peal of laughter. That meant Ona and Alexia were probably there, too. 
You took a deep breath before pushing open the door, trying to steel your nerves. At first, when you walked through, no one batted an eyelid, all preoccupied with their own routines. But then Mapi looked up, and yelled out your name.
“You’re back!” she grinned, running over to you. You felt a twinge of guilt, remembering that the two of you had been good friends before the accident, and that you’d been so caught up in everything going on with Ona and Alexia that you’d forgotten about your friendships with the other players. Soon enough you were surrounded by your teammates, including the two you were most nervous about seeing. 
“I’m not back properly yet, but I’ve been promoted to physio in the gym, and I should be able to start training with you guys again in a month or so,” you told your teammates, blushing slightly at the attention you were getting. For some reason you couldn’t meet the two women’s eyes, too anxious about what you’d find there. The team let out cheers and whoops at your statement, people leaning over to ruffle your hair or give you hugs.
After a few minutes, the physiotherapist clapped her hands together. “Okay, okay, in order for her to be able to train with you again, she needs to get fit enough first, which she can only do if you all let her get on with her physio session in peace, okay?”
Your teammates chuckled and backed away. Only then did you look up at Ona and Alexia, who were watching you intently. Ona was biting her lip, a nervous frown etched into her forehead, whilst Alexia looked more stoic, trying hard not to let anyone see how desperate she had been to see you and how worried she was about you. When you met their eyes, you instantly felt calmer, the bundle of nerves in your stomach washed away and replaced by a soft pang of familiarity.
When you smiled at them, they both relaxed instantly, the line between Ona’s eyebrows melting away, Alexia’s eyes softening as she met yours. They smiled back, and you couldn’t help but think about how beautiful they both were, each in their own way.
As the physiotherapist went through your exercises your mind kept wandering, and you kept catching yourself looking over to where they were going through their workout, Alexia jogging on one of the treadmills, Ona over by the weights. Every so often they would look over at you and your eyes would meet, and you’d smile, blushing, and look away again quickly. It felt like having a crush for the first time.
You lingered when your session was over, reluctant to go so soon.
“Don’t forget, your things are in my office,” the physiotherapist reminded you with a knowing smile. “And don’t worry, we’ll be back tomorrow.”
At home, you put the bouquet in a vase, admiring the flowers. One looked slightly different to the others, but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Regardless, the bouquet was beautiful, and your stomach fluttered at the thought of the women buying you flowers. 
By the time evening rolled around, you were starting to get hungry, and you wondered what Ona had meant by her note this morning. Just as you thought about messaging her to ask, the doorbell rang, and you opened it to find a delivery person holding a paper bag emblazoned with the logo of a nearby restaurant. 
As you headed back inside your apartment, you took a quick picture of the bag and sent Ona a text.
[Y/N]: so this is what you meant with your note this morning :)
[Ona]: Yes!! 
Along with her message was a picture. You recognised the background as her kitchen, and on the counter was a paper bag just like yours, the restaurant logo on the side.
[Ona]: Ale got food too, so we’re all eating together but apart :) 
Warmth spread throughout your body, and you sent Alexia a quick message, sending her the same picture you’d sent Ona. As you opened the bag, your kitchen filled with the smell of food, and your stomach growled. You kept messaging both women as you ate, unable to deny the way your heart skipped a beat every time you received a new message from them, a smile glued to your face. By the time you fell into bed a few hours later, you’d exchanged hundreds of messages, and your cheeks hurt from smiling.
When you checked the front door the next morning, you were surprised to find a sweater next to the usual drink and pastry. Picking it up, you instantly recognised it as Ona’s, the one you would always borrow when you were at her place, the fabric soft between your fingers. You brought it up to your face and inhaled deeply, your lungs filling with the familiar scent of her perfume, and your mind filled with memories of the two of you.
You wore the sweater to your physio session, reluctant to take it off. When you arrived, the physio nodded over to the table again with a grin. “Another present for you.”
On the table was a protein shaker adorned with stickers of your teammates, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Everyone had their own drinks tailored to their needs, and when you picked the shaker up you smiled as you realised they’d already filled it for you, a sticky note on the back telling you what was in it. You took the shaker into the gym with you, and when your teammates sidled in slowly, your eyes were on the door, waiting for Ona and Alexia to come through and see you using their gift.
When they did, their eyes scanned the gym, looking for you, and they immediately smiled when their eyes landed on you. You felt a rush at the sight of them and internally rolled your eyes at your behaviour - you were acting like a teenager with a crush rather than a grown woman. Still, you gave them a quick grin before going back to focusing on your therapy, and tried to ignore the way your heart had skipped a beat when they’d smiled at you.
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Hi can I request a oneshot with the team x someone's daughter (idm who) who has POTS and has a bad POTS episode (not fainting tho) and just them helping or smt like that?
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BAU team X POTS Teen Reader
Request: Hi can I request a oneshot with the team x someone's daughter (idm who) who has POTS and has a bad POTS episode (not fainting tho) and just them helping or smt like that?
I don't have POTS so I've done research and using the NHS website to help lol
The team are interviewing a teenager who witnessed the unsub kidnapping his next victim who the BAU were chasing, the teen has a pots episode.
Third person pov...
It had been a sunny day, in Louisiana
Y/N L/N was on their way home from a day out with friends, as they walked they routinely took breaks as to not have a POTS episode.
On one break they stood under a shaded area drinking some water, as they did they spotted a man dragging a young girl a couple years younger than they were, they watched as the girl struggled in the man's grip.
She and Y/N made eye contact, the desperation in her eyes made Y/N realise she was being kidnapped, they watched as the man forced the young girl into a white van, they stayed hidden.
After that happened they called the police.
Hours later the FBI show up at Y/Ns house, after reassuring their parents the teen was taken in for questioning about what they saw and if they could help them.
The interrogation room was warm, far to warm for Y/Ns liking, they of course knew it was hot outside but inside was unbearable.
Also they forgot to ask for some water, because of their condition the teen had to keep themselves from becoming to hot and to drink enough fluids otherwise they would faint.
As they sit in the room waiting for the agents to come in they begin taking off their button up shirt they had worn over the top of their tank top.
Soon two agents entered the room where Y/N was waiting, they could see the fear and anxiety in the teen eyes. Their hands were shaking and was fidgeting in their chair.
Morgan and Rossi took the lead in the interview, while the rest of the team observed from the other side of the two-way mirror.
"Now Y/N can you tell us what you saw?' Rossi asked gently, trying to make the teenager feel comfortable.
Y/N took a deep breath and began to recount their experience. They had been walking home from hanging out with friends, when he saw the unsub forcing a young girl into his van.
The H/C teen had immediately called the police but stayed hidden, watching the whole ordeal unfold. They manages to describe the unsub in great detail, from the way he looked to the van and the girl he took.
The team was impressed by the teens bravery and their attention to detail. But suddenly, their eyes screwed up in pain and began grabbing their chest.
Fanning themselves pulling the tank top away from their heated skin. The team were shocked not knowing what was happening to the teen.
Rossi and Derek were quick to the teens side. "Episode" mutters the teen slouching forward, this made Derek leap to catch the teen.
"Whoa there" he catches the teen, gently tapping their face to keep them awake. "Water they need fluid" Yelled Spencer, he had recognise the symptoms of POTS when the teen started fanning themselves during their explanation.
"And call and ambulance!" JJ nods her head as she begins calling for an ambulance.
Hotch then runs off for a bottle of water, as he came back he thew it to Rossi who grabbed it and began opening it for Y/N, he then knelt doen next to the teen.
" Ragazzino (kiddo), come on I need you to drink this for me" he coaxed the teen gently as Derek lifted their head to be able to drink the offered drink.
Y/N begins drinking the water, which helped, they needed lots of fluids during an episode. Spencer then walks into the room. "Ambulance is 5 minutes out, I've read up of POTS we should help them stand up and walk around slowly" explains the Genius.
Derek and Rossi look at each other before nodding. "Okay let's get them up" "on 3. 1..2..3.." together they help Y/N stand up.
Holding them up they trio begin walking slowly around the room to get Y/N moving to help the teens flare up, as they did this the ambulance finally arrived.
Y/N was then taken to hospital, Hotch called their Mum to meet them there, the team all pile into the two black SUVs, all wanting to make sure the teen was okay.
The next day, Y/N is back at the police station, their episode wasn't dangerous one, they had probably overexertered themselves yesterday after watching the kidnapping.
As they walk around they find the FBI agents that took so much care of them, their Mother had insisted on bringing them all home made cookies to thank them.
The teen knocked on the door to the conference room the team was using, everyone was there, Rossi and Derek were surprised to see the teen up and looking healthy again.
"Hey everyone" they wave to the team, the teen walked in holding out the box of cookies. "Thank you for helping me yesterday, Mum made cookies as thanks" they explained opening the box.
The team were shocked, they all reached into the box and grabbed a cookie each, Y/N watched as their faces all lit up at the taste. "Thank you and thank you to your Mother for the cookies" Hotch tells the teen.
Y/N gives them a huge smile. "Also I'm here to help you more, I remembered a few more things, when I have an episode I get brain fog and forgot a few pieces of information" they explained, soon the teen was sat at the table with the team.
The ac on high with a bottle of cold water infront of them. Y/N began telling the agents what they remembered, thanks to their memory they were able to catch the Unsub before he could grab another Victim.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for the wait I've had the worse cold literally all weekend felt like I was dying, finally feeling better again so here is a oneshot for you.
Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Requests are open!
Word count: 1100
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greenflamedwriter · 6 months
Text
Vampire Au | JiuYuan
Okay so, both Shen Jiu and Wu Yanzi come across an abandoned hut on the side of a river, the river is also violent and not shallow so it's the perfect dumping spot for bodies. So when both Demonic cultivator and disciple come across a man sleeping in the shade it was obvious Wu Yanzi planned on mugging him then using the body for demonic cultivation-
So after Shen Jiu waits outside as look out, acting bored. It was normal for the screams to begin that was usual.
"Shen Jiu! Help this Master!"
The fact that it was his Master screaming in pain? not usual?
Shen Jiu ran forward to the doorway in time to see the sleeping man, with a demonic face bite into Wu Yanzi savagaly, blood gushing from his neck then the demon? Threw his master on the floor and spat-
"Not only do you have the nerve to attack this one- you don't even have the decency to be a filling meal!"
A-a Jiangshi!
Wu Yanzi was dead on the floor and the Jiangshi gazed at him, raising his clawed hands gestured.
"you. Come here."
Shen Jiu wanted to run but suddenly his feet was moving forward, the man sliced open his finger then raised it. "Swallow."
Shen Jiu face twitched in disgust, as the finger pushed and rubbed against his tongue then withdraw as he swallowed. "Now you are my servant, dispose of this trash and guard me while I sleep during the day."
Shen Jiu scowled but did as he was told, not before pilfering Wu Yanzi's items before dumping the body in the river. It seemed he had some freedom within his orders.
And it appeared he traded one master for another.
When the sunlight set, the man immedietly groaned as he arched his back. "That was the worst fucking nap of my entire unlife- oh you're still here."
"Obviously." Shen Jiu sneered, and the man rolled his eyes. "Great- well this should work out for me. The night is short, and this humble master never wants to be out in te sunlight."
Telling Shen Jiu his weakness? Either he was stupid, unlikely or he was testing Shen Jiu with this knowledge. Wu Yanzi wasn't so different.
When they journeyed to a local village, luckily close to the rampaging rivers, the Jiangshi gave Shen Jiu money. "Go find a nice inn for us, and buy something for yourself after."
Shen Jiu scowled, as the man vanished and Shen Jiu walked away, he couldn't run even when he tried to...although stopping outside a brothel and was able to enter and purchase some rooms.
...Guess he did have some freedom with how the command is worded.
He was able to go to a blacksmiths and buy some blades. Small knifes were the most affordable- and easy to hide and steal.
It was better to pay for something and seen as a customer, then leave suspiciously. But when he found his new master, and took him to their 'inn' he scowled at the relief. "Ah good- I was worried since I forgot to mention I needed something to eat." Shen Jiu scowled, to think he put these women in danger-!
As soon as they entered, Shen Jiu with a dark scowl, and the man beaming and looking way to comfortable-
pov switch:
Not realising that it was all bravado, when he was alone he had no shame but now he had a kid and got he was only fourteen for christ sake! Shen Yuan transmigrating as a freakin Jiangshi in PIDW had to be a cosmic joke! "Hellow young masters!" The host spoke jovially, "May we interest you in some refreshments, one lady or two?" He glanced at Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan cleared his throat.
"Hmm, just one would do, and if you could..."
He placed the coins on the table, "A room with food and drink and a young man would suit me just fine." Shen Yuan smiled bashfully. And he was met with different reactions. The host nodded, probably not surprised. But Shen Jiu looked at him like he was an alien.
And yeah- then there was the feeding- okay he didn't need to sleep with them, but he had this whole routine thing and having someone watch, a kid at that- if he could blush he would but he's not ashamed! It's not wrong it's just food!
When the man came in, Shen Yuan would usually be more blunt, but felt that he had to be nice about it. "I uh, I prefer doing it myself, you just get comfortable," Shen Yuan took the mans waist leading him to the bed "And relax."
All it took was a few kisses and nibbles, and the man was defiently playing it up, moaning like his life depended on it. Shen Yuan hovered over him, if the man noticed a certain...lack of reaction he'll tense up and be suspicious-
Shen Yuan bit down, and now that was a real moan, even the mans hips thrusted up, sometimes that happened. Shen Yuan fed as much as he could then stopped, just enough to make them tired enough to believe this was just a client being too rough.
Shen Yuan licked the wound clean watching it heal, then pulled back gazing at the mans eyes who relaxed, pupils wide and droopy under his thrall.
"Now, you'll leave this room disapointed but unsurprised that this was the worst client you have ever had the misfortune of laying with. So bad you want to erase the whole ebarrising thing from your memory."
The man left and Shen Yuan slumped back into the bed, just enough for another day he could lay low here for a while and when he notices how tired the patrons are he'll hop skip and jump to the next town no problem-
Shen Jiu shifted and Shen Yuan turned forgetting he was there. "Why not lie? Why make him believe it was a lousy lay?"
"Why not? More incentive to never think of this Master and become suspicious." Shen Yuan shrugged. Now he was stuck with Shen Jiu, he could send the boy out to find him a nice little hovel to sleep in then dismiss him. Then again he seemed decent with cultivation- but if he lets him go what chances are he would come back to kill him?
...hmmm.
"Boy, tell me. What am I?"
Shen Jiu's eyes narrowed, maybe from being called boy. "A Jiangshi." Shen Yuan blinked surprised, huh. "I'm not stupid and my names is Shen Jiu." He bit, oh okay. "How do you kill a Ghost Head Spider?" "Strike the temple before it releases its baby like cries to alert others."
hmmm, so Shen Yuan began to quiz Shen Jiu, the other still stiff and answering every one like his life depended on it. Shen Yuan sighed, moving over to the table and brightening to see food- he forgot about that.
"Shen Jiu come dig in!" He spoke, sitting down and pilling his own food onto a plate, Shen Jiu moved over cautiously.
"I thought you didn't need food?"
Shen Yuan smiled, "Ah but it's a form of nutrients, if a Jiangshi has a restrictive diet then they need other things to keep it going. I only fed a little so this is to make up the rest. Most Jiangshi don't need food if they drain a person kinda like Inedia to a cultivator- ah you don't have to eat if you don't want to."
Shen Jiu was physically trembling with the chopsticks showing he was fighting back.
Shen Yuan sighed, "Sorry it's been a while since I've last had a companion."
"Companion?" Shen Jiu snapped, "More like a slave! There is no point acting like the domesticated monster if I have to find you victims to feed on to stay alive. So don't pretend."
Shen Yuan blinked, then continued eating. Of course, that was probably what the other man did.
"Hmm, this one was rudely inturupted in his sleep being attacked and had defended himself, being half starved I wasn't in the right mind, it doesn't excuse it. My ire was towards that master of yours and he payed that with his life. You on the other hand I have no such animosity towards. But disrupting my sleep as well as tainting my home so I had to relocate? That was a debt that had to be payed." He pointed his chipsticks his way "You payed that. And now, we're near a cultivation sect Zhao hao temple, you're a bit too...excitable to being a monk but if needs must-"
"No it has to be Cang Qiong."
Shen Yuan blinked, food stuffed in his mouth, "Hmm?"
Shen Jiu wasn't looking at him.
"It has to be Cang Qiong,"
...really? Shen Yuan sighed dropping his food and scrubbing his hand across his face, "Need I ask why?" He whined, if a Jiangshi went to Cang Qiong he was beyond undead!
"No don't answer- ugh fine. I'll escort you then you can hop skip and jump the rest of the way. Alright?"
Shen Jiu scowled "Why can't you let me go now?"
Shen Yuan leaned back tilting his head to the side, "If you leave now, chances are a mass of cultivators will break down these doors and kill me. On the road in the middle of the night only trapped to go in one direction or have someone kill me? I want to live thanks. And you're a bright kid can defiently go the rest of the way by yourself and not find yourself in trouble."
___________________________________________________________
And Shen Yuan whenever he thought, this was it. This was the village he'll abandon Shen Jiu in and leave him to it. And yet each night they rested up at a Brothel instead, as they kept getting closer Shen Yuan WAS going to leave he really was! But he needed to teach Shen Jiu so much stuff! Sure he learned how to write and read from Qui Jianlou, but academically especially for Cang Qiong- Shen Jiu was going to be behind with the lack of clan, or or fortune to back him up he would face bullying. But if he kept his head down, but still presented as a scholar and kept his head down? So Shen Yuan quized him, he even taught him how to spar in the way he knew how!
"Look, I'll be honest Shen Jiu, I can't teach you forms or how to wield a sword properly. BUT as a Jiangshi and a supernatural enemy I can help you hone your speed and strength! So from now on you will be doing a lot of heavy lifting." Shen Jiu scowled.
"You just want me to fill up your bath water and give the Jiejies a rest."
"Correct and it helps you gain strength, also your diet needs to change too. With the excessive workout you'll burn through so that way the ecsessive weight will become muscle."
Shen Jiu scowled "Fine."
And of course it showed results. Shen Jiu had to do push ups, pull ups, Shen Yuan even made him do handstand push ups. "Good work, you're doing well. Now do it with one hand." "You-"
He heard him fall over and sighed "You'll have to repeat that set."
Shen Jiu was gaining muscle and looks, especially from the Jiejies the next neighborhood they went to.
And on the road with no one around, Shen Yuan would attack Shen Jiu, little things like tripping him up, drawing on his face. If Shen Jiu failed then he would have to do more sets. Shen Jiu instincts was getting faster, and was even able to fight him for a solid 30's seconds. But of course, when Shen Jiu realised this he became cocky and slipped up.
"You're problem is you think too much. And that throws you off." Shen Jiu scowled down at the bonfire then nodded. "Yes, Master."
"Agh enough of that Master stuff it makes me feel creepy. Just Shen Yuan is fine."
Shen Jiu looked up at that, "Shen Yuan?"
"Not the same as yours. Shen for Wall." He corrected, then smiled as he leaned back. "But going through town we could say we're siblings. A-jiu my adorable little brother!" "No."
"aha- you're no fun."
________________________________________________________
Shen Jiu was on edge, assuming Shen Yuan would take him down the dark path in the middle of nowhere and just kill him. And yet Shen Yuan would glance at the forest with a firmed lip and keep walking. When they went to the brothel once that was one thing. The fact that he kept doing it, Shen Jiu never mentioned it, assuming if he called it out he would be punished. And yet, the closer they got to Cang Qiong. The fact that Shen Yuan fed him more and even made him do excersizes-
Shen Jiu assumed he wanted Shen Jiu tired on purprose so he couldn't run or escape. But when he saw he was getting stronger and gaining muscle he was honestly surprised. And when Shen Yuan quized him on plants, with each one they found on the road and telling him in depth about it's properties it didn't make sense to waste his time telling Shen Jiu this only to kill him off later on. He thought maybe Shen Yuan lied about taking him to Cang Qiong, but when he helped him hone his senses and have faster instincts...it just didn't make sense. "Hmm, Shen Jiu maybe we should go on a mission!" Shen Yuan spoke, after passing him a rented sword.
Shen Jiu almost missed what he said next too busy staring at the weapon in his hands! He could kill Shen Yuan right now-
"With a mission under your belt, that'll give you experience! Remember you're too old for the entrance exam SO you have to be good I mean really good that they couldn't dare pass you up to being plucked by another sect!"
And when Shen Yuan watched Shen Jiu on his mission, just observing and not helping at all, even observed as Shen Jiu took down the monster plauging the town.
Once he landed and looked at his Master for approval- then looked away why was he looking for his approval! Shen Yuan hummed nodding. "Very good, you were fast and efficient," He stepped closer and humed. "Now, is there anything on this beast worth salvaging?"
Shen Jiu froze, he was never taught that.
"Apologies Master, this one doesn't know how..."
Shen Yuan laughed, "Ah I forgot, well this is a learning experience! come here." And he taught him everything he needed to know.
When Shen Jiu was finally left alone and trusted to pay for their lodging, he asked the patron. "How far is Cang Qiong Mountain?" The man paused, "Hmm just a few towns North and you'll be there, this humble one see's you have a sword is your master a cultivator?" Shen Jiu eyes flickered "Not one from a popular sect, my Master is a rogue Cultivator." If this man thought they could triple the price he had another thing coming. "Ah,"
"Also he would prefer," Shen Jiu stared at him cooley, he wasn't embarresed "Male courtesans."
"Ah of course-"
"Preferably someone older than myself, he's not a fan of young ones." The man nodded again. Shen Jiu remembered that incident, Shen Yuan was in a pleasent mood but when he saw the thirteen year old it was like something snapped. He used his thrall to tell the prositute that he was way too young for this type of work and then brought in the owner and thralled them as well. Telling them that any worker under eighteen should work as cleaners or in the kitchens and be payed twice as much!
Shen Jiu stared as the owner nodded.
"M-Master why would you do that? That could ruin this mans buisness." Shen Yuans eyes were bloodshot as he glared after the man wobbling away. "Then it should rot for all I care."
Shen Jiu never understood it, wasn't it normal for both genders as long as someone was willing to pay. But Shen Yuan seemed deeply unnerved by that.
"Also what the fuck is a pint sized childs blood going to do for me? Men have more women and children less so!"
"...Why would women have less blood?"
Shen Yuan shrugged, "I don't know, periods maybe?"
Shen Jiu didn't ask what a period was, Shen Yuan was still pissed and more annoyed when no one came to their room! "You thralled him but didn't ask-" "Agh! Shen Jiu can you just, I'll break his neck if I talk to him again!"
And Shen Yuans eyes was red, his teeth extended and even his voice was a deep growl. Shen Jiu ran out like his ass was on fire, Shen Yuan faltered hand extended then covered his face with his hand.
He didn't mean to scare Shen Jiu...
Not realising that Shen Jiu collapsed against the wall, feeling weird. He wasn't a stranger to attraction he knew what it was...in theory. Thanks to the Jiejies being so nice and talking to him assuming his Master and He had that type of relationship especially when he requested those types at the Brothel.
They spoke ...in detail...and Shen Jiu only to be polite nodded, but now it all came back to him in detail-
He wonderd if maybe Shen Yuan wanted him that way...especially since he was getting older, would Shen Yuan on the road...ask that of Shen Jiu? Push him down in the woods in the dark? Both fumbling around in the damp dew grass-
Shen Jiu shook his head, forget that! He had to find Shen Yuan someone to feed on- His traitorius mind flashed with the image of Shen Yuan feeding on him. And the fact that he found a young man similair to his face well...
_____________________________________________________________
When Shen Jiu stood before Cang Qiong Mountain right at the foot of the staircase, with two disciples stationed at the gates, thats when Shen Yuan leaned down.
"Okay, so I attack you-"
"What!?"
"Shush, I attack you, call you a worthless servant and you say you're not going to give me innocents to feed on anymore-"
Wait what!? "And then you 'break' out my thrall, and when those two finally help, thats when I'll run away all "agh curses, Cang Qiong disciples ahh!" and you'll be taken in as a legendary strong cultivator who fought against a vampires thrall and won!"
There was stars in Shen Yuans eyes, he looked excited to 'act' and put on a show, but Shen Jiu couldn't- this was Cang Qiong there was a chance that they would hunt down Shen Yuan and kill him!
"N-no master this Shen Jiu doesn't think this is a-"
"Xiao Jiu!"
Both flinched and turned to see a party of returning Disciples probably coming from a mission and Shen Jiu's eyes widened to see-
"Qi-ge?" His voice broke, and Shen Yuan stood their awkwardly as the young disciple almost ran forward eyes shining in wonder.
"You're alive!" He sounded so joyful, and almost took a step forward but his Shizun stopped him, eyes narrowed in Shen Yuans direction. "Yue Qingyuan who is this?"
Yue Qingyuan straightened. "This is a childhood friend of mine, Shen Jiu." "Hmm," Shen Yuan shivered seeing those intense eyes looking at him. Before he could open his mouth, Shen Jiu spoke before Shen Yuan decided to reveal what he was just to shove Shen Jiu into their arms. "This is my Master, Shen Yuan. He has been educating this Shen Jiu about cultivation." The Sect Leader hummed.
"Really?"
"Shen Jiu is truly the prodigy, but this lowly one has nothing else to teach him. Both of us were wondering if there was any vacancies."
The Sect Leaders eyebrow twitched, "You think we just take any random child of the street?"
Shen Yuan glanced at the disciples then back to the sect leader confused. "Yes, you have an entrance exam open to anyone of the public." "Yes, we don't accept all of them."
"You accept the students who pay. Or you pilfer off prodigies." Shen Jiu's hands twitched, he was NOT a prodigy what was Shen Yuan saying! "With the right guidance, Shen Jiu can be the the pride of Cang Qiong." The Sect Leader sighed, until Yue Qingyuan spoke, "Please Shizun! Shen Jiu is good enough to be a cultivator!" "Yes but he's too old even for some instruction-"
"Then see what he can do, place him in a peak and if he fails then kick him off the mountain. What are you really losing?"
The man openly glared at Shen Yuan and of course his Master had to needle him more. "Just see what he can do, then you can decide if he's worthy of Cang Qiong or not."
"You're not going to stop are you?" "No." "Very well."
____________________________________________________________
Shen Jiu was surprised, when the Sect Leader nodded and a random disciple came forward drawing his sword, Shen Jiu followed suit. Fighting here? at the base of the mountain!?
He was going to get his ass kicked and it was all Shen Yuans fault, he glared at him and Shen Yuan had to the nerve to look offended in a "Who me?" gesture.
But when the signal fell and the disciple lunged, cocky smile on his face. Shen Jiu was surprised it ended so quickly. Thanks to endurance training and the his speed from Shen Yuan, he was able to dodge and move just as fast to disarm the disciple. "..."
Even Shen Jiu looked surprised, and was irritated by Shen Yuans proud grin.
"Your form is off, without the speed and agilty anyone could easily pulverise you into the ground." The sect leader spoke, not missing Shen Yuans scowl. "However, this has been inlightning. Very well. We'll see which Peak Lord will accept your prodigay, and you will be billed from the inconviniance." Shen Yuan sighed, "This Master had a feeling you would say that."
_____________________________________________________________
When Shen Yuan finally found a brothel ah he was so used to an assitant! Maybe he might thrall another young man and teach them everything he knew. Seeing Shen Jiu soak up all that knowledge made him prideful.
But when he returned after sending off the money, and then retired to his room paused outside the door knowing someone was inside already. Before he could run he took a step back into someones arms. "Don't run."
The man reached forward opening the door and pushing him inside his room, he gaped to see the Sect Leader standing inside, he turned scowling up at the man who pushed him in not recognising the uniform.
"Be nice shidi, this one has fangs."
The man huffed then stood at the door arms crossed, meanwhile the Sect Leader was covering the window. He was trapped. "Okay this one can't be in trouble with back-payments already-"
"It's nothing like that...Shen Yuan was it?" He nodded, glancing at the table with the teapot then back to the sect leader. "This one had heard some strange stories about a master and his disciple. Going to brothels." Shen Yuan pursed his lips, "Is this a...strange roundabout way of asking for a threesome? I'm flattered but neither of you are my type." "Why you-" The man at the door almost drew his sword and Shen Yuans face split into a smile- "Enough Shidi, you're too old to be goaded so easily. No tales of men having no memory after having one night with the Master. That the two travel at night," Shen Yuan couldn't sweat. But god was it a close thing. "And this Sect Leader detected it right away." Shen Yuan tilted his head, "What?" "What you are-" Shen Yuan didn't let him finish, grabbing the teapot and throwing it towards the Sect Leader even with his speed- these were two experienced Cultivating Masters! The an used his sword to parry the teapot, and Shen Yuan in the distraction dove past him out the window-
Then choked when something grabbed his robe, like holding the scruff of fur around a cats neck- he undid his sash and dropped, the Cultivator cursed as he watched Shen Yuan sprint across the tiled roof.
Shit, shit shit shit shit- well what a good unlife he had a shame it was so freakin short- The man guarding the door landed in front of him and Shen Yuan yelped swearing like a sailor and skidding to the left dropping down into the alley way but was slammed into the wall by the sect leader.
"Now now little Jiangshi, if this Master wanted you dead, you would be dead by now."
Shen Yuan fidgeted in his grasp, trying to get out then sighing. "What do you want?"
"A conversation with tea, but you decided to make it difficult-"
"What want me to nicely sit here and say 'please Master Cultivator kill me quickly' I'm a monster you're a cultivator of course I won't sit there nicely and take it!" Shen Yuan snapped his teeth lengthing. "Who said anything about killing you?"
huh?
Suddenly a tailsman was planted onto his back and Shen Yuan yelped falling like a ton of bricks face first into the ground.
"See, Shidi? look how weak he is." The Sect Leader sounded delighted, and Shen Yuan scrambled trying to get up it's like a fat buddha was sitting on him he couldn't move.
"Just because it hasn't fed in a while doesn't mean it's not dangerous-"
"Pick him up, we'll talk at Cang Qiong." Shen Yuan blinked when he was hefted up, this guy was stupidly strong!
___________________________________________________
Kidnapping aside, Shen Yuan didn't expect to being the resident pet of Qing Jing Peak. After seeing Shen Jiu's new Master and being forcefully put to work Shen Yuan did fear for his life. But with all the food he can eat, and the blood given to him by the doctors he was basically living a cushy life AND he can read all the tomes of the Qing Jing Peak library!
Ah things were looking up!
"Ah that's bad..." "How so?" "Just...bad, weird after taste." The doctors hummed when Shen Yuan tasted blood he was able to tell who was healthy or not. The cultivators weren't stupid they never gave him information like a guinie pig just gave him samples and wrote down his answers. He didn't think anything of it.
After learning the man who got him was the Peak Lord of Bai Zhan he avoided him like the plauge, Shen Yuan was polite to everyone even reluctently the Sect Leader after figuring out what the man wanted.
He was so impressed with Shen Jiu he wanted Shen Yuan to duplicate what he was teaching to their students! Shen Jiu besides his form in fighting was astounding in everything else. So now Shen Yuan was a reluctant hallmaster.
Of course when Shen Yuan was given someone to feed on he had to admit it was strange for Cang Qiong to allow such a thing- then immedietly spat out the blood once it hit his tongue.
"Oh my god ew! What was that!"
Cheng Liang scowled, the Bai Zhan brute. "Blood, you need it to survive draining innocents is a line we won't cross-"
"Draining? I've never feed more than I needed to! and I can't live on this...doing bad things taints the blood." "Well it's this or nothing." "Then I'll take nothing." -------------------------------------------------------
Of course the sect leader sent in Yue Qingyuan, and Shen Yuan raised an eyebrow. "What is this?" "Feed, you're looking worse for wear. Yue Qingyuan offered."
He doubted it. "Whats wrong with your blood?" "Finally admitting your motive to killing the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong?" "I never wanted to be here!" Shen Yuan sighed, then looked Yue Qingyuan in the eyes. "This won't hurt." He fed and sighed, it's been...a long time since he's had a good meal. Even so, no need to take more than he needed, as he pulled back licking the wound clean for it to heal he flinched at the hand suddenly cupping his head.
"That wasn't enough."
Shen Yuan eyes narrowed, "Yes it was, now let go-"
"He can take it." Shen Yuan shoved both away almost falling over, "No he can't. This one is fine so-"
"You're weak, embarrsingly so, how can this mountain expect you to survive like this?" Shen Yuan looked at him in befudlement "I've been survivng pretty well so far."
asshole, he didn't say.
"You are wasting your potential, a Jiangshi can never be a cultivator, but can still get stronger-"
"Shouldn't you want the opposite? Isn't it better having a tamed Jiangshi?" Now the Sect Leader smirked, showing his real face that made Shen Yuan almost duck down but kept still instead. "On the contrary, this Master finds no purpose in keeping things that are weak."
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marwritesgood · 1 month
Text
Come Back to Me | S. Harrington
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Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader
Timeframe: Season 4
Summary: A long anticipated reunion, but nothing was going to plan.
previous part
series masterlist // main masterlist
a/n: its good to be back :) adding a lil author’s note in the comment section regarding this pt x
December, 1978
Y/n couldn't sleep.
She wasn't sure what time it was. She wasn't sure how long it had been since her mom told her it was lights out, or how long she had been staring at the ceiling since, haunted by the silence. Time moved much differently now. Everything was different without Sara.
Knowing there was no chance she would be sleeping anytime soon, Y/n sat up shifted out from beneath her comforter, and carefully opened her bedroom door. As she crept closer to the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise to wake her parents, she realised her dad had already beaten her to the freezer.
“Y/n?" Hopper squinted and switched the kitchen light on to be sure. She looked a tired mess, but then again, so did he. “Bug, what are you still doing up?”
Y/n sighed, doubling back, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Explaining herself to either one of her parents had become something she dreaded. It was the very reason she tried to limit her conversations with them altogether, not that they made it all that difficult.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
To her surprise, Hopper smiled. It was faint and hidden behind a sigh of his own, but it was there. Y/n wasn't sure why she was expecting a lecture followed by an order to go back to her room, but she knew she was grateful such a reaction was nowhere in sight.
“Me neither," Hopper replied, his eyes dancing between the floor and the door to the freezer. He looked back to his eldest daughter, now his only daughter, and pursed his lips. “I know it’s more of you and your mom’s thing but… I could really go for some ice cream right about now.”
Y/n smiled weakly, a quiet chuckle slipping out from between her lips.
“Me too.”
She took her seat at the dinner table and Hopper followed suit shortly after with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. They ate together in silence, each stealing quick glances at the other from time to time, both grateful for the precious moment in time where there was no expectation of them to do or be anything other than a father and his daughter eating ice cream in the middle of the night.
***
March, 1979
Y/n couldn't sleep.
She couldn't remember the last time she was able to, but she knew there was no chance of her being able to for a hell of a long time now. Every time she came close to drifting off, all she could see was her mom and Sara, two faces she would never be able to see again.
However, this time was different. This time, she drifted off for only a moment before waking up abruptly, a panicked mess. Her chest moved rapidly as she heaved, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to calm herself down, but to no avail.
Desperate for something, anything, to soothe her, she sprinted to the kitchen barefoot, too numb to feel anything much less the ground beneath her. Instinctively, she opened the freezer, hoping a few spoonfuls of ice cream would be enough to bring some sense back to her body, only to be met with emptiness.
It seemed three weeks of avoiding the groceries had finally caught up to the Hopper household.
As she shut the freezer close, the front door swung open. Hopper came stumbling in, barely bothering to close the door shut behind him, much less look where he was going. Y/n realised that this was routine for him as she watched him navigate his way through the clutter and rubbish and into his bedroom. He didn't even notice her standing in the kitchen, still hyperventilating, still a panicked mess.
This was how it was, she realised, and this was how it would be for a hell of a long time. With half of their family gone, it seemed only inevitable. Y/n stood frozen in the dark for a while, haunted and paralysed by the silence. She didn't feel like she was anyone's daughter, and it didn't feel like Hopper was anyone's dad anymore.
It appeared that they were nothing more than two ghosts tethered to a house, they no longer wanted to be in, but in no way tethered to each other anymore.
***
April, 1980
After listening to him fumble with his keys for a solid ten minutes, Y/n watched from the kitchen as Hopper came stumbling into their home. She cleared her throat.
“Where have you been?”
Hopper stumbled back, startled that Y/n was still awake. His breath hitched when he realised the look she had on her face. He knew this was an all-time low for him, but he felt too far-gone to abandon the habits he had developed over the past year, however bad they were.
“There was a holdup at the-“
“Are you drunk again?” Y/n's voice was loud and angry, sobering Hopper up completely for a split second. She kissed her teeth and shook her head. “Dad, come on, you promised me.”
This was not the first time Hopper had been called out on having too much to drink, and at the rate he was going at, Y/n knew it would not be the last. She hated the person he was turning into and hated herself for giving him the benefit of the doubt so many times.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to stand straight and still, but failing miserably to do so. As he continued to sway, struggling to keep his balance, Y/n's brows drew closer together as she remembered the hellish evening she had to endure on her own.
“You know everyone was asking where you were.”
And naturally so, Y/n told herself. It was his wife's and his daughter's memorial and he was nowhere to be seen. Their friends and family came from all across the Midwest, but he couldn’t despite being in the same town.
“I’m sor—“
“Aunt Jenna kept telling me I was always welcome to go to her place in Michigan," Y/n interrupted him, her voice growing louder as she grew angrier just recounting the conversation.
Telling her she was welcome to come over anytime meant they had no faith in her dad’s ability to look after her, which Y/n resented and refused to play into.
"I had to lie to everyone, just to keep them from asking questions ab—“
“Dammit, Y/n, I said I was sorry!”
She gulped, taken aback by his outburst, but willing herself not to flinch or let it go. He had gone too far that night, and she was done giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Hopper's shoulders slumped and he drew in a sharp breath, regret seeping in almost instantly. He hated what his habits did to his temper, but not enough to resist what it did to his grief.
“I really am…" Hopper whispered, his feet finally steadying. "I’m sorry, bug.”
Usually that would be enough. A short apology and a half-hearted promise not to do it again and she would be off to her room and he'd be free to sleep the night off. This time, however, Y/n crossed her arms and clenched her jaw, giving Hopper the impression it wasn't enough. Far from it.
“You know, I wish you’d stop apologising and just be better, dad."
Her voice was as cold and piercing as the stony glare she unmistakably targeted at him. He lost her faith in him bit by bit over the course of the past year. Now, she was sick to death of his empty words.
Hopper winced. It was fair, part of him knew that. However, at the same time, an overwhelming part of him continued to scream that it was unfair. All of it.
He went to speak but found a quiet so escaping his lips.
“I just... I miss them so much.”
“I know, I miss them too," Y/n whispered softly, giving Hopper the impression that she was finally letting it go.
But, instead, her glare grew more piercing.
“That’s why I showed up to their fucking memorial," she hissed before going to her room and slamming the door shut.
Hopper collapsed onto the couch, but he couldn't sleep the night off. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as it continued to spin, the sound of Y/n's voice echoing all night in his head. It was all unfair.
***
November, 1982
Y/n’s eyes closed and she was hoping to get even a few minutes of shut-eye but her father was not going to let that happened. It was bad enough she had to endure a lecture from him at the station, in front of her friends from school.
“You’re lucky officer Robinson recognised you and told me, otherwise you’d be spending the night at station with everyone else.”
Hopper gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were beginning to turn pale. He gave his daughter a quick sideways glance before ultimately deciding it was in both of their best interest he kept his eyes on the road.
“Lucky me,” Y/n muttered, not even bothering to open her eyes, her head still rested against her window. She desperately hoped he would just move on already, but from the audible huff he let out, Y/n knew he still had much to say to her.
“What were you even thinking? Anything could have happened to you.”
Hopper's heart sank when he got the dispatch call from Robinson. The entire drive back to the station, all he could think of was all the sorts of trouble his daughter could have been in had she not been taken in.
Y/n was quiet for a moment. Letting out a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked at Hopper momentarily before turning back to the view outside her window. Maybe it wasn't the wisest choice, but underage drinking at a house party definitely beat sitting at home alone on a Saturday night for the millionth time in a row.
“…You’re never home,” she mumbled quietly.
“That’s no excuse, Y/n.”
He was right. It was no excuse. Not for her at least. Him not being home never stopped her from keeping the house in somewhat order, keeping her grades up at school and staying out of trouble. There was no doubt Y/n had it in her to do everything expected of her, but it wasn’t fair that for all she did for her dad, the favour was never paid back.
Y/n bursted into a fit of quiet cries.
"Bug?" Hopper's voice and expression softened completely. "Bug what’s going on?"
The fact that he didn't know made Y/n's tears multiply. Usually the lonely Saturday nights didn't bother her quite as much, but it was the anticipating sitting alone at home again the following week that really tore her up.
"It’s my birthday next week."
"Oh."
She wiped her tears and looked down at her fingers, too upset to look at her dad but too prideful to continue to cry in front of him. Things were so different now, and she hated it. More than anything, Y/n wanted things to be how they were before when there were four of them and not just two.
"Mom used to make my favourite for dinner and bake my favourite cake and we’d all eat together. But you’re never home and mom and Sara are…" Y/n couldn't bring herself to say it aloud, knowing if she did the waterworks would return. She sighed, leaning her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. "I’m just so sick of being alone."
Hopper was quiet. His grip on the steering wheel loosened. Suddenly, he felt like the biggest jerk for scolding Y/n instead of realising she was hurting. He hoped it was not too late to make things right.
"Let’s do dinner."
Y/n glance at him for a second and then let out a scoff. She had heard enough empty promises from him to know better than to trust anything that came out of his mouth.
"I’m serious, bug," he added, knowing what that scoff meant. "I’ll get off early and pick you up from work and we’ll have dinner together here. Just like we used to."
Y/n studied him closely, unsure what to make of his proposal.
"You promise?"
"I promise, bug." Hopper didn't miss a beat. "I’ll make it happen."
Y/n felt her worries ease.
"Ok. But I’ll make dinner for us," she insisted, knowing if it was one less thing her dad had to worry about, it was all the more easier for him to follow through. "You just have to pick me up, ok?"
"Ok," Hopper spoke softly, smiling when Y/n closed her eyes and leaned against her window again. It seemed easy enough to do.
***
April 6th, 1986
Joyce’s weird demeanour made Y/n nervous to open the door to her bedroom, but when she did, that feeling vanished instantly. He was half his weight, bald and beard-less, but there was no mistaking it. It was him, and he was standing up from the edge of her bed and smiling at her. Y/n’s eyes watered and she inhaled a shaky breath, her voice a croaky hushed whisper as she spoke in disbelief.
“Dad?”
She closed the door behind her and stepped in cautiously. The last time she saw her dad was through the vision Vecna showed to her. Y/n felt her chest tighten as mind struggled to decipher whether this necessitated her flight or fight response. Before she could make her mind up, Hopper had pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, quickly becoming choked up by it all.
Seeing her again and hugging her again, it made the previous 8 months of hell worth every excruciating second.
Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or burst out crying. It didn’t make sense. For that reason, she couldn’t bring herself to trust it just yet. Pulling away gently, she placed her hands on the side of his face, revelling in the fact that it was him. It was her dad.
“I-I thought you were…” Y/n shook her head, tears rolling down her face. “Is it really you?”
After everything at Starcourt, part of her did humour the idea that maybe her father didn’t die, but she quickly dismissed that trail of thought as a coping mechanism. She knew holding out for a miracle would do her no good.
“I’m right here, bug,” Hopper smiled.
Y/n’s tears were free falling the second he called her bug, something she had accepted no one would ever call her again. She shook her head and hugged her dad tightly, savouring the feeling of his embrace but also revelling in the fact that she didn’t need to. He was not dead.
After they pulled away, the two of them sat on the edge of Y/n’s bed and found themselves crying the laughing then sniffling then doing it all again, all while briefly going over the obvious changes.
Y/n joked about her dad’s hair and he brought up the way she rearranged her room. Y/n asked what happened to him and he muttered something about a prison and Russia and how he would bore her with the finer details later. Y/n’s heart swelled at the reminder that there was a later. That he was no going anywhere. That he was not dead.
“So… you and Steve?”
“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled. That was another reminder that made her heart swell. She had Steve as well as her dad now. They both came back her. “He’s done a lot of growing up, and he’s never left my side.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Hopper smiled.
Whatever reservations he once had about the Harrington kid, none of it mattered to him anymore. Y/n confirmation that he stuck by her, that counted for everything to Hopper.
Y/n studied her father closely, her concern growing tenfold as she noticed remnats of cuts and brusises across his face and along his arms. She hated to think about what it took for him to get out of the Russian prison or what the effects would do to him.
“Dad, are you ok? Are you… are you gonna be ok?”
Hopper reached for hand and squeezed it three times.
“Yeah, bug,” he assured her. “I mean… it was rough, obviously, but… I made it home.”
He hoped that was enough to cast her worries at bay, but by her unchanging expression, he knew there was something else bother her.
“Dad, I’m so sorry for what I said,” Y/n wept. It was the one thing she had spent the past few months desperately wanting to tell him. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”
At least not in any way that made it ok to say to him, she reconciled.
Hopper squeezed her hand again and shook his head dismissively.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He kissed the top of her head and gave her a reassuring smile which she returned only without the sincerity. Something about his response did not sit right with her. While Y/n couldn't quite put her finger on it, she knew part of it was her hope that in being the first to say sorry, he would finally come around to saying it back.
Before more could be said, the sound of another vehicle pulling into the driveway travelled through Y/n’s open window. Hopper’s eyes lit up.
“I think that’s El and the others.”
He shifted to stand up, but Y/n kept him from doing so.
“Stay here, dad. I’ll get her for you.”
Part of her wanted a break from talking to Hopper, while the other desperately wanted for El to have her own time with their dad. Y/n knew that if seeing her dad alive and well made her heart swell the way it did, El’s reaction would only be bigger.
The van they drove in on was what Y/n recognised as Argyle’s ride. She barely made it off the front porch before being enguled by the all too familiar embrace of her littler sister.
“Y/n!” El was beaming, unable to keep stil as she hugged her big sister firmly. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you so much,” Y/n replied, running her hand over El’s shaven head and the squeezing her tightly. Nothing compared to the real deal.
“I’m so happy you’re ok,” El exclaimed after pulling apart from Y/n.
She hoped her sister had made it out ok, but there was no way of knowing for sure until they made it home. The entire drive to Hawkins, El’s stomach was in knots as she kept remembering the sight of Y/n laying unconscious in Steve’s arms.
“Yeah, I owe you one.” Thought parts of that night were still hazy to Y/n, she remembered El saving her clearly and vividly. “… I owe you a massive one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” El replied instantly.
It was nothing Y/n wouldn’t have done for her had the roles been reversed. It was a nice change saving her for once when, for the last few years of El’s life, Y/n had been saving her.
“I have so much to tell you.”
“Me too,” Y/n smiled inconspicuously. “But first, you need to go to my room.”
“What?”
Her confusion made Y/n chuckle. Suddenly, Joyce’s demeanour earlier made a lot of sense.
“Just… trust me,” Y/n grinned, gently pushing El up the front porch steps. “We’ll catch up after.”
“Promise?” The younger girl turned around and held her pinky up. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and looped her pinky with El’s, prompting her to turn back around and follow her sister’s instructions.
Watching El walk into the room where Hopper waited with illuminated eyes, a familiar knot began to form in Y/n’s stomach and she hated it fiercely.
***
April 9th, 1986
There was never a conversation about all the changes that would be made to the living arrangements at the cabin. When Steve, the Wheelers and Dustin went home, the Byers stayed and set up camp in the living room.
Y/n didn’t mind, at least not at first. However, the more Hopper, El and the Byers began to settle in, the more she found herself becoming irritated at the little disruptions it made to her usual routine.
She didn’t like having to constantly remind her dad she kept the mugs in a different cabinet now. She didn’t like waking up to a messy kitchen because Will and El raided the fridge at midnight. She didn’t like having to wait for the bathroom to be vacant to have a shower, only to realise her favourite shampoo was already empty because everyone assumed it was free for all.
Y/n hated feeling so annoyed by the people she cared so much for so, as much as the little disruptions irritated her, she tried her very best not to let her feelings surface. She told herself she just needed time to adjust and that, as overwhelming as the change could be, a full house was better than an empty one.
After a few days of much needed rest and settling in, Hopper announced to everyone that it was time to clean and declutter the cabin to make more room. Y/n reluctantly went along with it, even though watching Joyce and her boys move her stuff around the house made her skin crawl.
"Oh, hey Joyce, you cant throw that away," Y/n said hurriedly, recognising the box she was carrying outside to the 'trash' pile. Joyce stopped in her tracks, and sheepishly walked back in.
"Oh, I’m sorry. Hopper said he looked through and it was just old documents."
Y/n winced. Perhaps if her dad had spent less time reorganising her life and more time listening to her, they would be on the same page. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her to feel so irritated by Joyce and the boys when her annoyance should have been aimed at Hopper.
"Yeah, it is," Y/n began, softening her expression, "- but it’s also records of when the cabin came under my name."
It was sure to be important when it became time to sort through the nightmare of legal paperwork her dad's return from the dead caused.
"Oh, ok," Joyce nodded. "You want me to put it in your room for you?"
"Yes please."
The older woman obliged without another word, which Y/n appreciated more than she could say. It was nice to feel heard, especially after feeling like she was on the outside looking in for the past few days.
After a couple hours of decluttering and cleaning the living room with El, Y/n went to her room for a much needed break. By the time she mustered enough will to go back outside, she saw Joyce and El going through her box of all the polaroids and photographs Y/n came across when she cleaned the cabin 8 months ago.
“You guys found the old photos," Y/n beamed, picking up one of the pictures from the pile and grinning. It was of her and Sara.
“I was telling El it might be nice to put some up, make the cabin a little homier," Joyce suggested, smiling nervously. "Would you be ok with that, Y/n?”
She drew in a deep breath and smiled.
“Yeah, that sounds nice."
More than nice, Y/n thought to herself. She wondered if that was what made her so irritated about the Byers moving in: the lingering fear that the more Joyce and her sons settled into the cabin, the less space there would be for any memory of her mom and Sara.
This was a nice way of ensuring that didn't happen.
Joyce's eyes lit up when she pulled out another photograph. From the writing on the back, Y/n knew it was a photo Jonathan took of her, Steve and the kids after high school graduation.
“Oh my god, Hopper look at this one," Joyce beamed.
He stopped what he was doing in the kitchen and come to have a look. Joyce handed him the photo and he drew his brows together, smiling nervously as she glanced between the photo in his hand and the others in the box. Aside from the pictures with Sara and his wife, the rest were new to him.
“How come I’ve never seen these photos?”
Y/n didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or scream.
“You weren’t there," she muttered harshly. "I didn’t see a point in showing them to you.”
Hopper's demeanour turned sheepish almost immediately. Between Y/n's cold expression and Joyce's widened eyes, he found himself flustered and in desperate search for an exit.
“I’ll move them into your room.”
He didn't wait for her to say anything before putting the photos back into the box, then lifting it and taking it away, with it any chance of him letting her and Joyce put the photos up around the house.
Y/n's blood boiled watching him scurry, and then it dawned on her, surely and swiftly. The reason her stomach was in constant knots for the past few days had nothing to do with the Byers and everything to do with her dad, and the fact that just as he was not dead, so too were his old ways.
***
April 10th, 1986
Y/n lifted the glass of water in front of her and held it out, fully extending her arm. Nurse Jackson studied her closely, looking for any sign of discomfort, just as she did every time Y/n came in for her routine check up for her injuries.
“Any pain?” Nurse asked, to which Y/n promptly shook her head. “Good. I’ll get you some extra bandages just in case, but I think you should be in the clear now.”
The nurse wheeled her desk chair to the medical supply shelf behind her and came back with a handful of bandages for Y/n. She turned back to her and sighed. The young girl stared blankly at her shoes and nervously tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, not noticing nurse Jackson inquisitive eye.
“Is there anything else that’s been bothering you?”
The older woman's voice appeared to jolt the younger one back to reality. Her head shot up and without a moment of thought, she shook her head. Nurse Jackson narrowed her eyes.
“Y/n.”
The young woman sighed shakily, turning her attention to restless fingers. After a brief moment of silence, she cleared her throat and spoke quietly.
“I’ve actually been having a lot of trouble sleeping… for a while, but especially this past week," she began. “I wake up either in cold sweats or hyperventilating or both. Sometimes its like... I-I feel like I'm going crazy.”
Y/n half expected a look of concern from Nurse Jackson, but the older inched closer and gripped her hands, grounding her worries if only for a second.
“Honey, our town just had a record-breaking earthquake and your dad is back after being presumed dead for nearly a year…”
Y/n squeezed her eyes shut. She had heard that spiel a million times, to the point where it had lost most of its consolation. Nurse Jackson continued.
“Frankly, I’d be concerned if you were getting a good night’s rest.”
“I know," Y/n answered shortly, her patience growing thin. She shook her frustratedly. "I just… I’m sick of feeling like this. All I want is to move forward from all this. How do I do that?”
She wanted a quick fix. She wanted Nurse Jackson to have all the answers, write her a prescription for something and for that something to make her normal again. To make her feel like she had some semblance of control over her life despite the past year proving otherwise.
“There are a lot of ways of moving forward, and the best route is going to be different for everyone." Nurse Jackson tried to give a comforting answer, but knowing Y/n, she knew it would be met less than kindly. "- But the main thing is that you don’t do it alone.”
“I’m not alone," Y/n quipped defensively.
Nurse Jackson pursed her lips.
“The other main thing is that you let yourself process everything that’s happened."
Y/n let out a defeated huff. The past few weeks felt like a juggling act, with each day seemingly burdening her with one more thing to deal with. Now on top of it all, she had to find the time and the energy to reflect on everything that happened to her.
“I’m processing everything as best I can."
The older woman knew that, for the most part, she was telling the truth. But Nurse Jackson could also spot an avoidant patient from a mile away. This one, in particular, was a patient she had grown incredibly fond of.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n.”
Her words caught the young girl by surprise. She didn't know whether to be apologetic, offended or defensive.
“All I’m saying is…" Nurse Jackson pursed her lips once more and drew in a deep breath as she tried to find the right words. "-As long as you keep burying your feelings and putting on a brave face, you’re never gonna move forward.”
Y/n hung her head, bashful that in the little time they knew each other, Nurse Jackson saw her so clearly, which was more than she could say for many of the people who knew her for much longer.
"You know, I think Ms Kelley is still offering free sessions." Nurse Jackson's voice was quiet and cautious. The last time she brought up the sessions to Y/n, she just about cursed her for suggesting it and stormed out of the room. "If you ever want to take her up on it, you just let me know and I'll sort that out for you."
The young girl didn't give her a definitive answer. She merely nodded her head and left quietly, discreetly wiping her teary eyes once her back was turned. However, Nurse Jackson was confident Y/n would take her up on her offer soon.
***
April 16th, 1986
Y/n's night was the same as it had been for what felt like an eternity. She woke up gasping for air, completely overcome by fear of impending danger despite being safe, sitting among Steve and the kids who were all passed out from movie night. She clung her fist to her chest and tried to steady and quiet her breathing.
Not wanting to wake anyone, she shifted Steve's comforter off her legs and left him sleeping on the ground by himself so she could sneak into the kitchen. She tried to shift her attention away from her frustrations, but as tears began to form in her eyes, it was hard to focus on the pot of coffee she was trying to make. Defeated, she dropped pot down abruptly on the counter and held her head in her hands.
"Still can’t sleep, huh?"
Steve's arms wrapped around her, his hands turning her around until she faced him. Y/n shook her head and dropped her hands, revealing her teary tired eyes to the only person she trusted enough to see them. Steve kissed her temple, just as he did the countless times he stayed awake with her.
He looked past her shoulder and spotted the coffee pot and grounds, and smiled playfully.
"Call me crazy, but I think having coffee in the middle of the night might not be helping."
Y/n rolled her eyes, nudging him gently.
"You don’t have any cocoa."
Steve chuckled, before pulling away and turning back to the pantry which Y/n had searched every inch of, for almost half an hour. He crouched down and moved a stack of canned soup to reveal a tin of cocoa. Y/n smirked weakly, her brow quipped.
“You’re hiding your cocoa now?”
“Just when the kids are here,” he explained sheepishly.
After the boys, under Dustin's leadership, got hot chocolate everywhere and gave themselves a sugar rush, Steve decided cocoa was not something he could leave unattended during movie nights.
Y/n sat at the kitchen table, mindlessly tapping her fingers against the surface as she waited for Steve to finish making their hot chocolates. Once he returned, he placed his hand atop hers to cease the tapping.
“What’s on your mind?”
She sighed. So much, that was the simple answer. There was so much on her mind, too much to unpack over one mug of hot chocolate.
“It’s weird seeing my dad again,” Y/n began. “- Having him around again.”
He nodded silently, sipping taking a sip from his mug.
“Everything is supposed to just be ok now because we all made it out alive, and I want things to be ok, but… it just doesn’t feel right. It doesnt feel fair.”
It should have been enough for her. She wanted it to be enough for her that everyone was ok and everyone was back home, but no amount of pretending made it so.
“It feels like I’m supposed to just forgive him? I’m supposed to just move on?… without even an apology?”
Steve’s brows rose and then knitted together.
“No one’s expecting you to do that, Y/n.”
She knew he was trying to comfort her, but she could name one person that was. She sighed and opted to squeeze Steve’s hand since he was keeping her from tapping.
“He asked me to go back home tomorrow night for dinner,” Y/n mumbled, unsure how she felt about the proposition.
She had been actively avoiding him and though it took him nearly week, it seemed Hopper was finally catching on. At least, that’s what Y/n told herself when he pulled her aside the last time she helped out at the shelter.
Steve squeezed her hand once, offering a small smile.
“That’s a good sign, right? Maybe he’s ready to talk.”
Y/n stared blankly at her mug.
“Maybe,” she huffed, though deep down she still was not sure.
***
April 17th, 1986
Dinner at home was not what Y/n expected. For one, it was only her, her dad and Joyce. While Jonathan was with Nancy, El and Will had plans with the rest of the kids. Walking in to a table set for only three left Y/n feeling uneasy, and yet hopeful that maybe her dad wanted time with her.
However, this hope dwindled as the night went on, because all they talked about over Joyce’s spaghetti was getting the cabin back in order. Y/n could hardly make sense of it, that was until her dad brought up meeting with an attorney before sliding a pen and a document across the table to her.
“What’s this?”
Startled, Y/n turned the document over and skimmed through it. While it was saturated with a lot of legal jargon she was unfamiliar with, she saw the words “title” and “transfer” then put two and two together. A red sticker flagged the place where she was to sign her name. She noticed that her dad had already signed his.
“Oh.”
Her face fell the very instant she pieced it together. A familiar knot began to form in her stomach. Hopper looked at her concernedly. When she met his gaze, she felt almost nothing.
“Bug, are you ok?”
Y/n wanted to laugh.
“You’re… so fucking priceless, dad.”
Hopper drew his brows together, taken aback at his daughter’s change in demeanour.
“What?”
“This is why you asked me to come home?”
She gestured towards the documents. There she was hoping that dinner at home meant finally having a proper conversation with her dad, when all it was was a ploy so he could get what he wanted. Hopper scrambled for a coherent response, words to keep things from escalating, but his mouth ran dry.
“When did you organise all this?” Y/n questioned, her cold glare going back and forth between the document and her dad. He sighed and ran his hand over his mouth.
“A week ago,” Hopper admitted sheepishly. As he suspected that escalated the tension in the room. “I sent the deed to the cabin to an attorney’s office.”
Y/n laughed coldly, remembering all too well the day he came close to throwing that very deed away. She felt a painful sense of clarity wash over her. This had little to do with the cabin and everything to do with controlling everything, Y/n felt certain of it.
“Of course,” she spat. “I should have fucking known.”
Hopper frowned, feeling an all too familiar sense of guilt settle in his stomach. He suspected that she might have some reservations about giving up ownership, but never expected this.
“I can understand if you’re upset.”
“Oh cut the bullshit, dad.”
He slammed his fist against the dinner table, prompting Joyce to come sprinting in from the kitchen.
“You don’t need to talk to me like that,” Hopper fired back.
“No, you know what? I will talk to you this. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You sure about that?”
Y/n did not take notice of the fact that they were both standing, leaning over the table, glaring at each other with the exact same expression. Nor did she take notice of Joyce, who stood at the end of the table, at a loss for how to de-escalate the situation, and if de-escalation was even possible.
“Y/n, maybe-“
Before the woman could finish speaking, Y/n kissed her teeth and shook her head, her tempermant getting the better of her.
“Joyce, this is between me and my dad.”
“Don’t talk to her like that.”
His words came with no delay, no hesitation, Joyce could see the way that upset Y/n.
“It’s ok,” the older woman told Hopper, before turning to his daughter and shaking her head reassuring. “It’s ok.”
Joyce excused herself and went to hers and Hopper’s shared bedroom. It was not until she closed the door shut that the argument resumed.
“What’s gotten into you?” Hopper asked, dumbfounded.
“You!” Y/n shouted, frustrated that she had to spell it out. “It’s bad enough you’re being accommodating to everyone but me, but you’re forcing your way back into everything on your terms and I’m really fucking sick of it.”
“Oh you’re sick of it?”
“Yes, because this is you! This is who you are! This is who you’ve always been and I feel like an idiot for expecting anything to be different with you.”
How could it be, she realised. While she was hoping her dad had changed for the better, he was hoping she remained the same. It was no wonder he was so nonchalant about everything, from moving in the Byers to stripping her of ownership of the cabin.
“Maybe a couple years ago, I would have let it all slide without kicking up a fuss, but I’m not doing that anymore,” Y/n argued.
She needed him to understand that while it was clear he wanted things back to how they were, she was far from the girl she was a year ago, and for a good reason.
“I can’t go back to doing that, dad. And it’s really shitty that you’re expecting me to.”
Hopper sighed, relieved that they were talking as opposed to yelling, but gutted all the same by what he was being accused of. He shook his head.
“I’m not expecting you to do anything, bug.”
“Yeah, you are,” Y/n argued. “You want me to be ok with you changing everything without a heads up. First you rearrange everything, then you move a whole family in, now this… You want me put up with everything, like I always did, but I’m not going to do that.”
She could not do that to herself again. Not after reliving it with Vecna. Y/n desperately wanted better for herself, and she wanted him to understand that and to want the same.
“I had no idea owning the cabin meant this much-“
“Oh my god, this isn’t just about the cabin!” Y/n shouted, frustrated that he was taking everything at surface level when there was much more to it.
Hopper winced, baffled as to how everything he says always ends up being the wrong thing.
“It’s about you and me, dad. All of it is about you and me and the fact that… you just don’t care about anything that’s important to me.”
“That’s not true,” Hopper argued, certain that while there was a lot he did not know about Y/n, especially after a year apart, he still knew the things that mattered most. She, on the other hand, was not so sure.
“You don’t even know what’s important to me.”
Hopper scrunche his brows together, offended that she thought so little of him. He knew her, he told himself. He had to.
“Looking after the people you care about,” he began, “protecting El and the kids… that’s important to you.”
Y/n scoffed and shook her head, leaving her dad to wonder how that was the wrong thing to say.
“Not the obvious stuff, or the stuff that we both care about.”
Those were a given, Y/n deemed. Those required no real effort on his end, which only proved her point further. Frustrated and partly defeated, Hopper tossed his hands up in the air.
“Then what are you getting at, bug?”
She swallowed thickly, but the lump in her throat persisted. It mattered less to Y/n that her dad did not understand her, and moreso that he never seemed to try to.
“Dad you were gone for almost a year. And El was gone and Steve and I weren’t together,” Y/n wept. “This cabin and everything I kept inside here… it was all I had for the last 8 months. It was all I had when you were still shitfaced drunk and were barely home. And you just come back and take it all away like its nothing.”
Hopper huffed, his gaze dropping down to the floorboards, too ashamed to look her in the eye. When he finally did look up, she wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands, sniffling quietly.
“Bug… I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she scoffed.
He never asked her. He never really spoke to her. For all she knew, he never even thought of her or what she went through. How could he expect to know anything about how she was feeling?
Y/n caught a glimpse of herself in her reflection in the window, and a sense of fatigue began to linger.
“Look, I get that you’re ok and you’re fine and you’re past it all, but I’m not. I’m still stuck in the middle of it. I’m still hurting.”
“Is that what you think?” Hopper questioned, bewildered. “You think I’m ok? You think I’m past everything?”
“What else am I supposed to think when you’re too busy playing happy family with your girlfriend to consider my feelings in all of this?”
“Y/n, c’mon,” Hopper pleaded. “That’s not fair.”
She shook her head. Who was he to talk to her about unfair?
“If it wasn’t your addiction, it was El Now, if it’s not El, it’s Joyce and every other person in Hawkins. You’re always so preoccupied with everything and everyone else and I’m always just an afterthought. I’m not an idiot, dad, I can read between the lines.”
Hopper knew, now, what she was getting at, and he hated it. He resented the accusation he knew she was about to make.
“Bug-“
“I know when I’m not wanted.”
There it was. Hopper shook his head and went to reach for his daughter’s arm.
“Y/n, stop it.”
“I can’t!” Her voice snapped before she reached the end of her sentence, sending the worst kind of chills down Hopper’s spine. She shook her arm out of his grasp and moved away. “This has literally haunted me for years. It’s haunted me. You’ve haunted me.”
Long before Vecna got the chance to.
Hopper felt his lips tremble. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words could form.
His blank expression only pained Y/n more.
“I mean, honestly… Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me? Any recollection at all?”
She looked at him pleadingly, hoping for something. For any kind of confirmation that he knew all the things he had done. If he knew, she could have hope of him having remorse, of him apologizing and him making amends. But, if he didn’t, Y/n couldn’t see how having any hope would be possible.
Hopper blinked, still at a loss for words. He remembered some arguments, but the rest were a blur, and he knew no memory he could muster up would be one that Y/n was referencing.
She knew, at this point, she was grasping at straws, but Y/n couldn’t help herself. She needed to know.
“Do you remember my 16th birthday?”
Hopper said and did nothing.
A sob escaped Y/n’s lips. Alone, again; that was how she felt. That was a night so painful and so deeply etched into her memory because of him, but he could not recall any part of it. Hopper stumbled forward, terrified of what Y/n’s sobs meant and where their conversation was headed.
“Bug, please, I don’t wanna fight with you. I don’t wanna go back to doing that,” he started, his voice shaky, alongside his hands. “But, believe me, I also don’t want to pretend like things are ok. I want it to actually be ok. I wanna fix things, I wanna make things right with you.”
He should have done that first. He should have said that first, before anything else. Hopper hated himself for taking so long to realise that. He placed his hands on the side of his daughter’s shoulder, only to be met with silence.
Y/n had a blank expression, one which Hopper still studied profusely, hoping for some indication that things would be ok. She felt defeated. She felt fatigued. This was an argument she felt like she had had with her dad a million times before, and they all ended the same. Maybe it was finally time they cut their losses.
“And what if you can’t?”
Hopper flinched.
“Don’t say that.”
She couldn’t possibly think that, Hopper told himself. After everything that kept them apart, he could not accept that an argument would be the thing to sever their relationship. Y/n sighed.
“If the last 8 months couldn’t fix things between us, what are the chances that anything will?” She had no more tears. That was the part that terrified Hopper the most. That, and the fact that she was refusing to look him in the eye. “And… after everything that’s happened, I’m just… I’m so tired, Dad.”
“I know,” Hopper whispered.
Y/n finally looked at him, but nothing in her expression changed.
“No. You don’t.”
She knew that now, better than she ever had before. He could never know what she went through. He could never understand her now. And, for as long as that remained true, they would never truly see eye-to-eye on anything.
Y/n pushed past her dad and approached the dinner table. Hopper turned around and watched, puzzled by what she was doing until he saw her pick up the pen and sign the document.
If that was what he wanted from her, it would be the last thing she would ever give him, Y/n decided. He would have the cabin, but only she would have all the memories made in it. Time would move on, just as he so deperately wants, but she would always remain stuck reliving the pain on her own.
After signing the document, Y/n silently grabbed her jacket and headed towards the front door. Hopper stepped forward.
“Y/n-“
“Don’t,” she warned, turning around and facing him before he could get any closer to her. “I really don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
Y/n slammed the front door behind her as she left. The sound exhoed in Hopper’s head as he struggle to come to grips with everything. He saw so much of himself in her when they argued, but when she walked away from him, he saw so much of her mother. He had done it, he realised. He lost another one of his girls.
***
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theemporium · 1 year
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is it fluff? I don't know?
but charles and r where charles is like "what happened pour moi?"
and r is like "oui, so i had a little too much café on an empty túmmy, so i had a - how do you say - panique attaque."
(tbf I don't know where the monologue is from? I found it on a generator for funny dialogue)
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
When you first started dating Charles, you made a point of wanting to learn his native language.
The only issue was that you would quickly come to realise you were absolutely shit at learning a new language. It didn’t matter if you went to classes, downloaded Duolingo or even bought those little guides with simple and well-used phrases, it just didn’t seem to click to you as easily as it did with others.
But you were still so determined to learn, and it warmed Charles’ heart.
You wanted to be able to talk to him in his mother tongue because it was a beautiful language and you would love to understand what he said when he spoke it. You wanted to be able to talk to his family when they make such an effort to talk to you in English. And even if it was maybe too soon to think about such, you knew you wanted your children to be able to speak their father’s language too. 
You were determined, so you made a deal with Charles. 
You had your French days.
These would be days where you would wake up and set the goal of speaking French all day, or as much as you could. Charles would only talk to you in French, and he would be there to help you with any words and phrases you didn’t know. It was supposed to be a simple exercise that helped you immerse yourself in the language and push your boundaries to help further your knowledge. 
It would just be random days where you would turn to Charles in the morning and inform him of as much, just stating ‘it’s a French day’ before going on with your morning routine.
Today was one of those days. 
Except, when you had woken up with a pit in your stomach, you chose to ignore it. You had days where you woke up feeling a little fuzzy, a little on edge, a little anxious. You tried to have more relaxed itineraries on those days if you could, and that was exactly what you should have done today. But for some stupid reason, you thought you could push through it.
However, pushing through it meant that you were barely unable to stomach any food, let alone have the appetite to eat. It meant that you were constantly feeling as though you were about to tip over the edge. And it meant you should have stayed far, far away from coffee when your heart was already about to beat out of your chest. 
But Charles had brought you a coffee back after his morning run, and you didn’t have the heart to say anything.
And first, it just felt like palpitations. You thought it would come and pass, and you’d be in the clear to just take a chill day. 
But your heart was only speeding up, and the nausea was undeniable. Your chest felt tight with panic as you pressed the heel of your palm against your chest, hoping it would do something to ease the feeling but it didn’t.
Your breathing became erratic and shaky, your whole body felt like it was vibrating and you were pretty sure your head was underwater with how muffled your hearing was.
And your poor boyfriend was absolutely baffled. 
“Amour? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”
You let out some choked noise, your brain feeling far too fuzzy to even try muttering up a response to Charles, let alone in French.
“Amour? Baby? Are you okay? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” His words became more frantic as he quickly made his way over to you, his hands on your shoulder as he tried to catch your gaze. 
“I—” You let out a slightly garbled noise before giving him a sheepish smile. It was stupid to try and continue the French day tradition, but even in your state, you tried. Even if your attempt was just speaking mostly in English with a botched French accent. “I am having—uh, une panique attaque!”
Charles’ eyes widened comically large. “I—fuck the French!” 
Your smile was shaky. “I already kinda do.”
His lips parted in surprise before he quickly shook his head. “Baby, no, let’s…just…sit down, please. I’m going to get you water. And something to eat. You’ve hardly touched any of the pastries I brought.”
You listened to his demands, taking a seat on the plush living room couch as your boyfriend ran around like a madman to get anything that would make you feel better.
It wasn’t until over an hour later after you had drank what felt like all the water in the Monaco Pier and consumed enough croissants for a lifetime where you finally felt the tight feeling in your chest ease and your heart rate drop to a normal level. You were still on the couch, now cuddled with your back pressed against his chest as he held you tightly.
“I’m sorry for ruining French day,” you murmured to your boyfriend.
Charles only scoffed. “Baby, please. Your health is more important than French day.”
You paused for a moment before continuing. “I’m also sorry for basically calling you French.”
“Yeah, that I’m not forgiving,” Charles grumbled, but you could hear the smile on his face even if you couldn’t see it. “I think it counts as a hate crime.”
You rolled your eyes. “You are théâtral.” 
Charles grinned as he pecked your cheek. “Good word, baby, where did you learn that one?”
“Arthur.” 
“Fucking Arthur.”
.
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