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steddiehyperfixation · 5 months

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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autistic-danvers · 3 months

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Since my blog has become one long mutual aid request the last month or so, I thought I’d go into a little more detail about my situation this time around.

I lost my disability at the beginning of the year and am unable to work bc of chronic illness and a host of mental issues on top, so my wife and I have been relying on her income while I work with a lawyer and all my doctors to try and get it reinstated.

That alone was more than enough to knock us totally off stable ground but on top of it, also at the start of the year I had a family medical crisis that has caused me to have to come back to my hometown and take care of my father for at least the next 6 months and now, not only are we down to one income but we have bills in two separate states along with trying to be able to see each other every once in a while.

My wife’s family has been helping us where they can but they’re also not very well off, and on my side the only family I have is my father who cannot help in any meaningful way either.

I guess this is just one of those things where one disaster after another keeps hitting and I’m struggling to just keep my head above water. Almost 10 years on this site without ever engaging with calls for mutual aid and now I seem to need it constantly; as much as I know it shouldn’t, it feels very humiliating to keep begging for help from people but I’m at a loss for what else to do.

Rent is coming up soon along with trying to get groceries, my phone bill, and utilities taken care of, so I’m going to once again post my PayPal here and pin it to my page, along with my heartfelt gratitude to every person who has helped me recently even just by reblogging my posts. If you have even a couple dollars you could spare to help me reach my goal of $500 for the rest of march and april, you’d certainly be helping me survive.

446$ out of 500$ ❤️

#mutual aid #donation #chronic illness #community aid

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 9 months

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Lost and Found ♧| 2.

Leon S. Kennedy x reader (ft. my girl Ash)

A/N: This... this took me so long lmao I rewrote it like five times. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though! I don't really write slow burn, so this might suck. I wanna apologize for how fucking wonky the events of Part one are???? They're all out of order lmao anyway, Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: swearing, reader is an idiot (lovingly, of course), mention of a small injury, sucky slow burn

Word count: 2.7k

Part 1 ♧ Part 2 ♧ Part 3 ♧

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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It had been a couple of months since Spain happened. Your life has definitely... changed. Both good and bad. You were plagued by nightmares frequently, instinctively grasping your arm every time you shot awake. A faint, pink scar had formed where the gash once sat. Tracing it absent mindedly was a common occurrence ever since the first dream. You'd stare at the blank wall in your living room, gently caressing it.

That mission took a toll on you, so you were granted a few months off to work through your night terrors and process everything. Ashley had been a great help with that. She made sure you hung out at least once a week and always stayed in contact, calling you and you calling her. The events of Spain didn't leave Ashley without any struggles either. But, she had assured you that she was save, protected at all times and getting support from professionals. Talking to her, about Spain or anything really, helped you get out of the hole you were in.

She was your best friend. Whether or not she knew it, she really was. You didn't really have friends. Not since Raccoon City. You stayed inside your dull little home the last few years, working a boring office job for the government. Your only friend had been Dave, a middle-aged man who worked in the security department. So you rotted away for years, mourning your past life. Your past you.

Honestly, you have no idea how you ended up as a special agent in the first place. Your police background increased your chances at scoring the position, but you didn't really have much experience. When you were offered the 'promotion', you didn't think too much of it. Couldn't be that hard, could it? You'd survived Raccoon City after all.

You were so wrong. You basically traded the mediocre lunch breaks you had with Dave, with running for your life from Zombies. Bad fucking trade. And the worst part, your officials didn't give a shit. They just wanted this to be dealt with as discretely as possible. End of the story, they underestimated how big this whole thing actually was, and now you were the one left with the shitty consequences. But you had Ashley! And Leon, of course, but that was a little more complicated.

You still hadn't gotten around to the promise of getting drinks together. He was going away on missions all the time, so although you kept in touch no matter what, he wasn't there. You thought, after some excruciating years, you had found your best friend again. Your person. And you did, but he was so close yet so out of reach. You couldn't take it anymore. You lost 7 whole years with him, and you finally had him back, but he was still gone.

"I don't know what to do, Ash." You sighed, playing with your shirt while you held the phone to your ear.

"Well, have you told him that? I'm sure he wants to spend more time with you too, but you need to tell him that!" She urged. Biting your lip, you hestitated.

"I just... he was my best friend. We did everything together, and now.. I know that it's him but I don't recognize him. He's.. different now. I thought he didn't change, but.. he did. That scares me. What scares me even more is the fact that he's always on my mind, I can't seem to function without him here. I only think about him. 24/7." You mumbled into the phone.

"Sounds a whole lot like you're in love with him."

"I- what? No! I mean, of course I love him, he's my best friend, but that's it. He's just my friend and you can love your friends, right? Like, everyone does, it's not something odd or anything." you rambled.

Sure, your heart lit a flame every time he smiled, and the sound of his laugh was heaven. His dumb jokes never failed to put a smile on your face but that's just how friends are. Yes. Totally. Friends feel like that. Just some regular friendly feelings.

"You're so oblivious! That's NOT how friends feel about eachother. Like ever. I've seen the way you look at him!" She argued. "What look? I don't look at him differently... do I?"

"Yes, you do. Everytime he's near you, that lovesick smile on your face kinda gives it away. Or the blush when he asks if you're okay. Not to mention how you panic when he gets hurt. Just admit it!" Ashley whined.

"I'm not in love with him, Ashley! He's my best friend, that's it!" You argued. She groaned into the phone. "I can't believe you're so smart yet so stupid." She said, clearly annoyed. "Rude." you mumbled.

"I have to go now, Miss Denial. Seriously though, you're not doing yourself a favor by denying your feelings." She said softly. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll think about it?"

"Definitely. Love you!" She beamed.

"Love you too." You chuckled as she hung up. Maybe you would think about it. If not for yourself, then for her. She was right about suppressing your feelings but about you being in love with Leon... you weren't sure.

Eh, that was a problem for the future you. For now, all you wanted to do was enjoy some drinks with him.

Your teeth gnawed at your lip, trying to decided how to go about this situation. Do you call Leon now? Tomorrow, maybe? Should you call him at all? You hadn't talked to eachother in a while... would it be awkward? Before you can lend any more attention to those thoughts, your phone rang and it was none other than Leon. Speak of the devil. You picked up, your heart racing.

"Hey... look, I'm sorry for not calling more, work s'just been busy. I.. Do you want to go for those drinks I promised tonight?" He sounded nervous. Unsure. He sounded so much like the Leon you knew. Your Leon. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. "Y-yeah, I'd love that. Um- how does eight sound?" You responded, a little more nervous than you wanted to. "Sounds good. See you." And with that, he hung up.

Something's up with him. Your brows furrowed. Maybe he worked more to get his mind off Spain? He was a workaholic, trying to do more and more and not realizing how much it actually affected him. He was hurting himself by trying to protect others from harm. Maybe it's just the stress. You had plenty of time to question him at the bar, supported by a few Piña Coladas.

A couple of hours before, the anxiety hit you like a truck. It was safe to say that you were scared out of your mind right now. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to Leon like nothing was going on? Like nothing happened? You couldn't. And after that conversation with Ashley? Nope. No chance. Panic was bubbling up your throat. You felt like you could never face him again. Everytime you looked at him, or even thought of him, it was just pain. The pain of the building collapsing on top of you. Your pained cries when you realized he hadn't come back for you. The pain when you thought he was dead. The pain that if Ashley was right and you really were in love with him, you could lose him again.

He made your world bright and vibrant and when he was ripped from your grasp, you were lost in a sea of grey. Drowning. Desperately gasping for air, refusing to let the water in. Now, he had brought the color back to your life but all the vibrant hues made your head spin and your eyes hurt. You grew comfortable in your sea of grey. Embracing the cold kiss of the water filling your lungs, making you float peacefully.

Could you let the color back into your world? Could you pull yourself from the tide and cough up the water? Did you even want to? You didn't know. It was all too much. You were pulled out of your head when you dropped your glass of water. You were so consumed in your thoughts and anxieties that it had just slipped out of your hand. Carefully cleaning it up, you felt a sharp sting in your finger.

You had accidentally cut yourself on the broken glass shards. A small stream of blood was running down your finger and along your palm. A drop of blood hit the puddle of water, and it bloomed in red. You haven't felt like this in years. You could actually feel something. It's not like you didn't you feel the last seven years, but your soul was too numb to care. You actually felt something. Not like those times when you hit your head or nicked yourself while cooking. You would react relatively neutral to those incidents, but now... you could feel the burn of the cut, a searing sting in your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips.

It's because of him. Because you had him back, and he made you feel alive again. He had just stumbled into your life and turned it upside down. Like he always does. But you wouldn't want to have it any other way. God, how you had missed feeling like this. So vulnerable. So sensitive. So human.

You cleaned up the glass but hung on to the feeling of the cut. You didn't like it per se, but it made you feel like something inside you had been fixed. A missing puzzle piece that slotted right into place. It just felt so right.

Just like he did. You shook your thoughts, having the habit of spiraling, wether it may be good or bad, and continued on with your afternoon. Your nerves about spending time with Leon calmed, it was just Leon! Your best friend. You had nothing to worry about. Well, with Leon, usually there was at least a little something to be worried about.

You were out the door, into the night, on your way to Leon. You had decided to just walk there since parking was an absolute nightmare in this city. Besides, the fresh air in your lungs and cooling breeze on your face was something you hadn't felt in a while. Fumbling with a small box in your pocket, you continued to the bar you two had agreed to meet up at. It wasn't really a present, more something you wanted to return. You never thought you could.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the warmth of the bar. Your eyes were searching for Leon, looking for that familiar blonde head of hair. Spotting him in the back, an inevitable smile crept onto your face. When Leon noticed you, his face lit up, a hand reaching up to signal you over to him. He stood up when you approached and immediately pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey." He mumbled, muffled by your hair. "Hi." You said, the joy in your voice evident. The first real hug in seven years. You could've melted on the spot. It felt so good. So right.

You reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him. "Wow... It's been a while, huh?" He said with a small laugh. "Yeah.." you responded with a chuckle. You sat down and ordered your drinks. "So.. what have you been up to? How have you been?" You asked. He pondered for a moment. "Not a lot to be honest. Worked a lot, you know, saved the world once or twice." He joked at which you just playfully rolled your eyes.

"What about you?"

"I uh... I adopted a dog. Her name is Lady, she's a Bernese mountain dog. I couldn't stand being alone anymore so I got Lady and yeah... that's about it when it comes to major life events." You laughed, a little nervous but the tension was fading by the minute.

"You gave in, huh? You used to talk my ear off about wanting a dog back then, remember?" He smiled. You did talk about wanting a dog all throughout your time at the police academy and it seemed like you had finally fulfilled that dream.

"Yeah, I did. She's so sweet, you'll love her." you said with a smile. Leon let out a laugh. "I'm more worried about her liking me." He joked.

You two continued to talk and drink, just laughing and having a good time. The night got closer and closer to ending when you remembered the box in your pocket.

"I have something for you." You mumbled, nervous to how he would react. He piped up at that and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, for me?" He teased. You just gave him a shy smile. Now or never. You pulled out the small box and slid it over to him. "I wanted to return this." you said quietly. His brows furrowed and a confused look fell on his face. "Return? Alright."

Leon carefully undid the bow and opened the lid. Not in a million years had he expected this. His jaw hit the fucking floor. It was his goddamn RPD badge. What the fuck? How did you even get this? It was tattered and faded. He gently ran his fingers across his barely legible name.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had no idea how he would react. Leon looked at you completely bewildered. "I.. How?" He asked, still shocked. You shifted in your chair and fiddled with your fingers. "When... when I got out, I found it on the ground. It was the only thing I had left of you." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. By 'got out' you meant fighting and clawing your way through infected residents and escaping the ruins of the collapsed building.

You could see the pain in his eyes. Whether it was his own for the pain he felt for you, you weren't sure. You spoke before he could. "I made a promise to myself that I would get it back to you one day, but.. at some point, I gave up and just kept it for myself. I thought you were dead and that this," you gestured to the badge," was the only thing I had left of you. My best friend. But it's yours, I want you to have it back." You said, your voice cracking, trying not to cry.

You could see the tears glistening in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped his badge. "Thank you..." was all he managed to get out. You quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to fall and let out a sad laugh.

"God... I'm sorry for ruining the mood like that. It probably would've burned a hole in my pocket if I kept it any longer, though..."

Leon placed his badge on the table and took your hands in his. "You didn't. Well, a little maybe, but I'm really grateful for this. Thank you." He assured you, sqeezing your hands. Your skin lit on fire. His touch was so addicting. And so comforting. A blush made its way onto your face. Oh, fuck. Was Ashley right? No. No way, it's just a little hot in here. That's all. But you couldn't deny the way your heart twisted and turned when he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach were having a fucking rave right now. Jesus, it's just Leon. Get it together You thought to yourself.

Shaking off all those annoying feelings, you returned a smile. "How about I make it up to you with a Movie Night, hm? Ice cream and cuddles from Lady included." You proposed. He grinned and leaned in a little closer. "What about cuddles from you?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. It didn't come off nearly was confident as he wanted it to. His voice shook a little, making him sound nervous.

Leon Kennedy? Nervous? Something was definitely up. His nervousness didn't stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach, though. There go the butterflies again. Stupid bugs. This is normal, though. Right? You always cuddled. Friends cuddle. No big deal. He's always been like that. No sweat. Just a little friendly cuddle session. That. Is. It. Is it bad that you wanted it to be more than that? The idea of being in love with him suddenly didn't feel as scary anymore.

Part three is coming soon~

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #ashley graham

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starkwlkr · 9 months

Note

Hiiii!! i really like your works and wanted to ask if it’s possible to do something with Marco Bezzecchi and motogp or formula1 driver reader?

stressed bride | marco bezzecchi

note: i am not accepting anymore requests!

It seemed like they never could get any time alone, but Marco and Y/n made it work. They had different schedules with Y/n being in F1 and Marco being in MotoGP. At one point the couple even considered breaking up, but Marco didn’t want to lose her. During the MotoGP break, Marco and Y/n spent their limited days in Mallorca. Their last day together before Y/n had to leave for her next race ended up being the day Marco proposed.

And of course she said yes.

When she returned to the paddock, Y/n proudly wore her engagement ring. Fans knew she was in a relationship with Marco so they were happy and excited for the couple.

“Woah! That’s a huge rock you got there.” Daniel was the first one to notice the shiny ring on her finger.

“Wait . . Oh my god! You’re getting married! Congratulations!” Lando realized and hugged the woman.

“Thank you.” Y/n laughed.

“I expect my invite soon. I need to get fit for my tux.” Daniel jokingly said.

“I’m hoping we even have time to send invitations out. I don’t even know when we are going to see each other again.” Y/n sighed. She really wanted that dream wedding that every little girl dreamed of, but there was that possibility that it wouldn’t happen because of scheduling.

It was like the gods were on Y/n’s side or something. In between races, she found herself staying up late searching up venues, booking appointments for wedding dresses. When the F1 summer break started, she traveled to Marco’s next race and showed him her wedding progress.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” Marco noticed the tired look on her face.

“I slept on the flight. I need your opinion on the color scheme.” Y/n showed him several color schemes on her phone.

Marco grabbed her phone and put it in his back pocket. “I want you to stay here and get some rest. You need it.”

“But I don’t want to miss your race.” Y/n replied.

“There’s plenty of races left. Nothing is going to happen if you miss one race.” Marco placed a kiss on her lips.

“But—”

“I know how hard you’re working on our wedding and I appreciate it. I know we don’t get a lot of time together. But i also know that you need sleep and staying up looking at wedding books is keeping you from that. We can get married next year or the year after that or in five years. Shit, I think I would even marry you after the race if you let me. We don’t have to rush this.” Marco said.

“What if we break up before we say I do?”

There was also THAT possibility. But Marco would never break up with her and she would never break up with Marco. They were stuck with each.

“Promise me you won’t go down to the garage to watch the race?”

“I promise. But when you come back, you and I are going to find out where we want to have our honeymoon.”

“Deal.”

Netflix, Drive To Survive

“I’m Y/n L/n and i race for (whichever team you want)” Y/n introduced herself to the camera.

“Welcome back. Is there anything different?”

Y/n knew what the Netflix team was referring to. She raised her left hand and showed the camera the ring Marco had given her.

“I’m married!”

Before the year ended, Y/n and Marco finally got their chance to say i do. Netflix only had permission to film the wedding planning part, but it resulted in the fans getting more Marco and Y/n content.

“Congratulations! Are you changing your last name?”

“That takes a lot of paperwork. I barely survived planning my own wedding and racing. He knows I love him, but I’m just Y/n L/n right now. Maybe in like two years I’ll finally change my last name.” Y/n said.

Marco was fine with her not changing her last name. At least Y/n finally got her dream wedding.

#inbox <3 #anon #motogp imagine #motogp x reader #motogp fanfic #marco bezzecchi imagine #marco bezzecchi x reader #marco bezzecchi #f1 driver!reader

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thesamoanqueen · 9 months

Text

Nothing left

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, jealousy, errors.

A/N: As we said here, leave your hands at home.

She loved their room. Maybe she would take a picture to put on her phone, frame and look at in moments of despair, because she didn't want to get out of there.

With a deep breath, she took off her heels abandoning them under a chair, while already she slipped off her earrings and the whole package. Behind her, it took Roman longer just to close the door, but Y/N had already taken over the bathroom to fix her hair and change. It had been one of the busiest mornings of her life and it was absurd considering that for years she had followed the pace of two rosters during the PLEs and the weekly routine. She hadn't had to run around endless hallways that day, the headphones hadn't stuck to her ears, there hadn't been any change of plans, no one to call in hurry, staff and technicians had been helpful, even offering Y/N her favorite frozen mango lemonade smoothie. They were so nice, but she liked the hotel room better. She needed a break.

- Have you changed your mind? Is it not a good opportunity? - she heard Roman ask from the room, finishing unbuttoning her dress to replace it with something more cozy.

They were not talking about a four am program, he watched it too when at home.

- It's a great opportunity Ro, for the company and above all for you - she obviously noticed, receiving a strange look, when she came out of the bathroom - it will give you visibility, it will increase your stats, it will help establish you on a wider audience and that’s the long-term goal for the future, even if you will boycott it with your list.

Standing next to the table, Roman cracked a smile taking the blow as she lay back on the bed, laptop already open on her legs, in what in a few minutes had become her personal sprint to shut the rest of the world out for at least a couple of hours.

- Is that why you are not happy to go to the studio? For my list?

Oh no, she was happy about that. Everyone out there seemed unable to get him to talk about anything other than his titles. At least they had found a compromise to please the company while still supporting him as more than the face of WWE.

- You can make all the lists and smiles you want, to whoever you want, don't worry. Do your things - she reassured him, opening the report to be sent to the executives for the following day's appointment.

Biting the corner of her lip, fingers racing across the keyboard, she finished in record time with a couple of randomly thrown standard phrases too, but she couldn't concentrate quite as well on emails, Roman staring thoughtfully at her without moving from one inch.

- What's up? - she asked, however, avoiding taking her eyes off the screen.

- You're not jealous – he threw out of blue and Y/N took a break to look at him this time.

Of course she wasn't. She wasn't that kind of woman. She didn't make a scene, she didn't get angry, she had learned to distinguish who deserved her attention and her precious time, she had survived a year of nothing with her head high and had been repaid with a perfect relationship, she knew what value she had for him and what value she had herself. She didn't low down to those levels, they even joked, she had compiled a list of the most obscene and hilarious comments about him found on the web.

- What should I be jealous of? - she asked.

Because she was really curious to know what made him suspect that her desire to go back to the hotel, get the boring work done quickly to have some time to relax and maybe be ready for a night out in a city that offered a million opportunities to celebrate those small successes, without having to worry about shots, uncomfortable or trivial questions, suits and skintight dresses, people who treated her as if they had been homies and greeted him with hugs that not even their coworkers dared, was for jealousy.

His phone, lying on the table next to the welcome note, rang when Roman had just shook his head and Y/N knew that it would be the end if her eyes hadn't locked there for a second too long. And she also knew that he had noticed it, but they would have not talk about that nonsense. Because it was stupid, meaningless and she wasn't jealous.

She went back to work on her laptop, ignoring him as he reached out to pick it up and Y/N opened the email, ending up ignoring even the latest updated communications from the program for the following day and scrolling through it. Roman glanced at her again, quickly, but Y/N forced herself to stay focused until he left the phone to go to the bathroom too. She took a deep breath as soon as she was sure he was out of range and she mentally forced herself to regain control.

It had only been a moment, perhaps because of this new set-up, all those changes, she really had nothing to stop and think about. Even if that hug had been a bit too much and… no, she had to stop thinking about it!

When Roman came out with his inseparable tracksuit to lie down next to her, Y/N was still with her laptop, gaze focused on some shots sent as pre-show tests.

- I would never do it, you know – he reminded her after a few seconds of silence, making her stomach do a flip.

Yes, she knew it… she trusted Roman more than anyone and she never doubted him for a second. She hadn't even doubted that morning actually, she was just… annoyed, but not for him. The truth was that Y/N had only wanted to go back to the hotel because it was simpler and because she didn't feel right fighting with a woman like her, although perhaps she could have since it were her hands that had been on him longer than necessary. But practically nothing had happened and Roman had went back to Paul's side as soon as possible.

- I know, I'm not the jealous one here – she reminded to both him and herself, while he was playing with his watch.

She had also had a moment, yes, but him… oh, he was a league on his own! Y/N had stopped counting before they even decided to put a name to their relationship, the times it happened. It was pathological.

- I value what belongs to me. I don't take you for granted - he returted seriously, no doubt in his voice and Y/N found herself staring at the screen, her stomach freezing this time.

Roman was a man, not a boy. He knew how to take care, respect and support her, he treated her as the only thing that really mattered and what would have been a flaw on anyone else, on him looked terribly sexy. And she always fell for it, without exception. Especially after spending the morning, trying to fight off the mood at having seen too many hands on her man.

- You're unbearable when you do that – she snorted, closing the laptop to leave it on the bedside table and climb on Roman without hesitation.

With a smug grin, Roman helped her into position, eyes searching for her, as she reserved the same fate as her laptop for his watch, fighting then with the zipper of his hoodie.

- Don't you want to know what time is our reservation? – he chuckled hoarsely, hinting at the message received minutes before and helping her anyway when she quickly stripped him of his shirt as well, her hands sliding down his chest to stop on his shoulders.

- I already know, I chose it - she murmured against his mouth, biting his grin.

Jealousy was for those who lacked confidence, not for them. She wasn't jealous. In that relationship, born out of nowhere and raised between dates at unthinkable times, meetings in lockerooms and buses, calls and messages from everywhere, mental and physical breakdowns, nights spent sleeping and mornings of sex followed by doubts, she shared more than the path with Roman. She had discovered that she was as possessive as he was, because she valued, them. What they were building together was everything to her and she wasn't willing to lose it or let someone ruin it.

She felt Roman hold her, hands sliding up her hips, keeping her pressed against him, as they deepened their sloppy kiss and Y/N ran her fingers over his chest. The rapid beat of his heart slammed under her fingertips, warmth surrounding and encouraging her to move, grinding against his pants which she had merely undone. He was solid beneath her, ready to let her control even though his tongue had already won their fight. Knowing that he belonged to her, to have power over him, to be the only one to have his attention and to be able to have him like no one else out there thought was an injection of confidence that excited and pushed her to reclaim what belonged to her and her only.

His big hands had worked their way through her soft clothes, stroking her hips, touching her skin, ass, eyes glued to hers as she slowly traced every inch of his torso after pulling away from the kiss. With the taste of him still in her mouth, she reached down to kiss one pec and then the other, working her way up to his neck, his beard pinching her cheeks as she licked the jugular then bit his ear, feeling him pull her up to place her on his boner now awake. She rocked on top of him, feeling him hard against her center, his hands moving up under her shirt lifting her breasts and hers going down instead, moving his pants down. Slowly biting the skin of his neck, Y/N took it in her hand, squeezing his meat just enough to feel Roman stiffen, his breath catching in his throat, her tongue stopping under his ear, merely tasting his skin, sensing the blood pressure without marking him.

- I don't need to do it… - she whispered, nail scratching his already wet tip -...not this time either... -she added, rubbing up and down until she drew a hot breath from him - ... right? - she asked, placing an innocent kiss on his full lips before leaning down and taking something else into her mouth.

A low, rough growl filled the room as she ran her tongue over his vein, feeling the flesh throb, the taste of it overpowering as she slid it against her palate until it touched her throat, in that one smooth motion she'd been busy to learn. She liked the feel of it pulsing against her tongue, his hand gripping her hair and indulging in the slow movement of her head, before curling into a needy caress as he struggled to fight the instinctive thrusts. Y/N loved seeing him close his eyes, his breathing getting heavy every time her lips licked the tip, sucking out all the air in his lungs to make him pulse.

-Ain't going anywhere babygirl – Roman panted, licking his lips, biting the lower one when she slid her fingers over the sensitive skin to scratch and free him – do what you want-

She let it slam against his bare stomach, a trail of spit and precum dripping onto his skin, those dark curls driving her crazy. Getting up on her knees, Y/N locked her eyes on him and threw away the extra clothes, remaining only with the shirt that soon ended up covering him too, when she slipped it into her soft hot folds. Her body greeted him with an almost sigh of relief which he returned low and dangerous, their bodies warming and melting like every time they did it.

She had fucked every kind of man in her life. But with Roman it wasn't even sex, with him it had always been more than that. Everything in him seemed made to slip inside her and mix, it was a loss of consciousness, something shared back, something unique that made her feel at peace, in her place. Her place was with him and his with her.

Nails digging into his torso, she slowly, unhurriedly rocked her hips, his now-rigid erection spreading her deeply, never letting go as her butt lifted.

- Mmh… keep it slow, like that… yes, thats it – he approved hoarsely and Y/N reversed the movement, guiding him inside her in that weak gasp which was setting both of them on fire.

Her caramel skin itched, thighs taut and soon her shirt became a torture, one Roman took care to make worse by sliding his hands down her side, catching a dark nipple between his fingers to turn it over and make her moan with a cry. Y/N ducked a little, her center filled with his flesh, as she flattened against him resting where someone else's hands had been that morning. Her mind clouded by the arousal brought back the memory, clear and her hips instinctively moved, without increasing the pace, only deepening the thrusts until Roman slammed against her sweet spongy spot.

They could make jokes, imagine, try even, but no one would have what she had. No one would feel him tightening his grip on her hips, throb from the grips of her body, know what it was like to burn, as the sweat trickled down her back, between her shoulder blades and up to the curve of her round ass from his thrusts or the kisses he left on her skin. No one would see the bleary, hungry gaze he gave her as her eyes lowered to seek him, the heat building more and more at the bottom of her belly.

- You're so good for me… so good inside me… ahn!

- Take it… le-mme hear those pretty sounds yes

His hand slid under her shirt again, this time without searching for her breast, his thumb digging into her wet folds, where their bodies joined to rotate slowly around the button of nerves she had rubbed against him until that moment. The contact sent a sharp shiver on her body, and Y/N dropped her head back, moans becoming almost cries as her back arched, giving Roman more room. Everything in her was burning, relentlessly, slowly, consuming her down to her toes, making her melt on him in a mess of moods and sweat. With an effort from his abs, Roman sat up, a big strong arm sliding behind her, pulling her close to him, his finger moving slowly and forcefully between her folds. The desire to kiss him made her almost cling to his neck, getting up again a little on her knees, helping him in that last run that had filled the whole room with their smell and the sound of their bodies clashing. One thrust, another, like a carousel she never wanted to get off, until the heat became too much and Y/N felt it explode suddenly, making her squeeze around Roman's stiff shaft, letting his name rush desperately from her lips to be swallowed up by the kisses he never spared.

There was nothing left in her mind, except that feeling of peace and satisfaction that only being with him could give her, that drained and recharged her as soon as his arms tightened around her, when her body welcomed his limitless lunges and his seed, which filled her like a mark that no one else had granted and that no one else but her deserved.

She rested her cheek in his hair, his face buried in the crook of her neck in an embrace that was everything to her. New York and its frantic pace couldn't take that away from her. Nobody could do it.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @angelreigns444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @wrestlezaynia @reignmyworld @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @namjoonspinkytoenail @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @thewarlordsworld @jeonmahi1864 @jxtina-86 @harmshake @harlem11680 @joanoai @southerngirl41 @blkbutterfly816

#roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #roman reigns oneshot

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kimbapisnotsushi · 6 months

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ojiro aran headcanons bc @luminouschaotic asked me if i had thoughts (which was. a while back) but i'm out of town for two weeks in a couple days and won't be on much so i wanted to get this done before then so LET'S GO!!

aran has like spidey-sense Chaos Instincts™️ honed by years of taking care of the miyas so much so that on his first day at inarizaki he feels a tingle down his spine and turns around just in time to catch akagi michinari falling out of a tree

aran, being the kind soul that he is, goes over to help. because if there's anything the miyas have taught him it's that if you don't intervene early on there WILL be even more severe consequences down the line than if you'd just helped them in the first place

it basically goes "hi i'm ojiro what do you need me to do and how much plausible deniability can i get from this"

don't worry akagi had just been get a paper airplane bc he might be a little shit but he's a little shit with morals who cares about the environment

he didn't get the airplane the branch broke before he could

akagi tells aran that he's going to try one more time and asks aran to stand under the tree so that aran can catch him if he falls again and aran's dreading the day akagi and the twins will finally meet

i actually think it WOULD be funny if kita and akagi had been childhood friends or something previously bc a) SOMEONE had to have been akagi's handle before high school and b) it just makes sense in my head

also i think a fundamental aspect of the shiratorizawa and inarizaki rivalry that we're overlooking is reon and aran bonding

like. they get it. they know what it's like. loving a place that does not always loves you back. having a home that does not always feel like a home. it can be hard, sometimes. but if there's one thing they agree on it's that their teams ALWAYS have their backs

(lev and liam my lovelies i have NOT forgotten about you)

also this just makes the whole "aran's irrational fear is tendou satori" a thousand times funnier

since it's established that aran references older pieces of media i like to think that means he sits down with like idk his grandparents probably and they watch all kinds of things together

sometimes the only other people who get aran's references are people who ALSO sit down and watch things with their grandparents (kuroo, kageyama, kita. . . )

the haikyuu club of good grandchildren . . .

anyways so that's how kita and aran become friends!!

oh my god . . . do you guys think his sister had those small kid puppy crushes on any of his friends . . . .

my vote is akagi or the miyas do you know how funny that would be

i think a bit that akagi does with aran is saying "oh my god this is just like [insert fictional media here]" when something (usually an Event™️ involving the miyas) happens and aran going "STOP SAYING THIS IS JUST LIKE [??] AND HELP ME"

when the third years graduate aran gives gin a gift and tells him not to open it until he gets home

when gin does open it he finds a booklet titled "how to survive the miyas: a comprehensive guide by ojiro aran" and it's at least a hundred pages long

the first page is an emergency contact list with the numbers of the miyas' parents, aran's parents, and every hospital/clinic within a fifteen-mile radius

definitely prefers a real newspaper to a digital one

i think the whole of the inarizaki third years are tech-averse tbh if you took them to one of those restaurants with the little robot servers with screens for faces they'd slow blink at it like really confused cats

this sucks especially for suna bc every time he gives his phone to one of them when he wants pictures of himself with someone or something they always come out blurry or too much exposure or some shit

i think aran and oomimi go hiking with each other on the weekends and are always pestering everyone else to go with them

they win when they promise everyone, yes, we can go out for brunch and boba after

(do the twins fall into a stream while trying to cross it? yes. did they still go to brunch afterwards, sopping wet? also yes. aran doesn't think he's ever laughed harder in his life.)

#as always hope y'all had fun!!#ojiro aran #akagi michinari #kita shinsuke #oomimi ren #miya osamu #miya atsumu #ginjima hitoshi #suna rintarou #honorable mention to:#ohira reon #AND #tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu hcs #sou says stuff

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thisisarcanereverie · 1 year

Text

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 2

A/N: This is Part 2 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 1!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

For as long as you could remember you were not your own. Your name, your face, your mind, your body, even your own autonomy was not your own. It had always belonged to Dreykov and to his Red Room. Then, suddenly, the very color that controlled you, freed you. The red powder burned your eyes for a moment before suddenly it felt like you could breathe again.

It was strange how one’s life can completely turn on its head in a matter of moments.

One moment you were another Widow, easily expendable and replaced and the next you were…new. At least that’s what it felt like, you no longer existed at the whim of another. You weren’t a chess piece on the board, you were now a player.

You remembered the day the Red Room fell as the best day of your life.

There were so many things you could do, there were so many possibilities.

You just weren’t prepared for the reality of it.

That despite the mind control and the lack of autonomy, you still hurt people, at the end of the day it was your finger that pulled the trigger. You would wake in the middle of the night still haunted by those faces with a red mark between their eyes. It felt like you couldn’t escape from the Red Room you concocted in your mind, that no matter how hard you tried you will always be a Widow. So instead of fighting it, you gave in.

You had offers, from SHIELD to Tony Stark himself. Which surprised you, but in the end you decided you didn’t want the spotlight on you and were a merc for a while. It was gritty, but it was work you knew well. You thought you could do it but the first time you were ordered to kill you couldn’t. They were innocent, they were just there at the wrong time. So you killed your boss instead, grabbed what you could, and left. You made enemies that day, one that would love to see your head gifted to them on a silver plate.

You called Natasha after that, you weren’t sure what else to do. You didn’t know anyone else, you were completely alone. She gave you this guy's number, said that he would help you disappear and with whatever else you may need. You could feel her wink on the other end of the phone as you wrote down his information.

Since then you’ve been running, changing addresses and identities every couple of years to stay ahead of people who may want you dead. Her friend would give you new identities and you would exchange with money that you earned at jobs you would work. For a while you were content with being alone, working everyday and coming back to your place to eat food you previously were never able to eat and watching tv. Then you met Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley. Then suddenly you realized how gray your life had become, how long you had merely survived and what living actually meant—even if you were merely living a lie. All at once you were no longer alone, someone held you at night and kissed your blood-soaked hands.

For the first time in your life…you felt clean.

But that had all been a delusion.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in pain, your head throbbed and your limbs felt weighted down, as though someone had thrown two weighted blankets on top of you. You willed your eyes to open and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. You squinted your eyes as you looked toward the open window, watched as the powder blue curtains danced gently as the breeze blew in. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep, last time you remember it was nighttime and….

Rain

Pinching

Jake.

You took a sharp breath in and shot up from the bed as your hand went to the side of your neck, Jake had drugged you–and from the look of things–abducted you as well. Why would he do this? Did he act alone or did Steven and Marc help him? All these questions swarmed your mind but one question stood out.

Have you been blind?

You shakily made your way to the open window, sure enough it was morning, and sure enough you weren’t in London. As far as you could tell you could be miles away from the nearest village let alone London. How long had they been planning this? To already have a second place squared away, ready, were you the first to be here or the latest addition.

“You’re up.”

You swerved your head as you looked beside you, your skin crawled and blood turned into ice as you looked at him. Upright posture, hair a little less unkempt, and a twinge of a chicago accent dripped in his voice.

Marc.

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small, pathetic squeak to sound instead of words. Your hand reached for your throat and realized for the first time how absolutely parched you were. Like you hadn’t had any water in days.

“Here,” he handed you a glass of water which you greedily accepted, you didn’t bother breathing as you chugged the glass he gave. After the soreness in your throat subsided a little and hummed to warm up vocal cords that had not been used in a while. You put the glass on the window sill and looked at him and at the tray he was previously holding. Turkey Bacon and Eggs, it was Marc's favorite breakfast, one he had made you dozens of times whenever he was sorry for something.

You were silent as you looked at him further, he wore sweatpants and a t- shirt, both clearly slept in. The tan of his skin glowed in the morning light and it looked like he ran his fingers through his dark curls once or twice. There was something unsettling about him though, one that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, something that wasn’t there before.

Those eyes.

You flinch a little as he raises a hand, only for him to retract it.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice uncharacteristically small. You debated on what to say, what was there to say? You had so many questions and yet you could not speak. You weren’t even sure if you were just dreaming, it almost seems like a dream. A house far away from everything and everyone, and your boys were right there with you bringing you breakfast in bed. You were partially worried that you would wake up and find yourself sleeping in a plane seat millions of miles away from them, but the other part of you worried that you would never wake up.

“How long?” you finally spoke, voice still hoarse. A moment of silence fell before he answered.

“I can’t tell you.” Marc says lowering his eyes, something he does when he has something to hide.

“Did Steven or Jake tell you that,” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Neither.”

“You have to let me go,” You finally said, voice getting a little less hoarse the more you speak. “Please.”

“Stop,” He said looking at you finally with a hard look in his eyes, “Stop saying you have to leave. You don’t need to leave.”

“Yes I do,” you emphasized, you held his face in order to hold his gaze, “there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, things that I’ve lied about. That person you fell in love with isn’t me, I’ve done horrible things-”

“I know-”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes,” he said, grabbing your wrist with an intense look in his eyes, “I do.”

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on you and stuck a fork in an outlet all at the same time. There was no way he could know, at least, not everything.

“I know that you used to be a Black Widow,” he said, taking a step towards you, the grip on your wrist tightening, “you’ve killed, lied, and stole from many people including me.” his nose brushed with yours as you tried to steady your breathing.

“How could you know all that?” You asked, whispered, your mind was pounding in time with your heart as he leaned closer to your ear.

“I also know you used to be a mercenary,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over the goosebumps that formed on your skin, “that’s how we met.” you stopped breathing as he leaned slightly away from you, far enough for you to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes that held the sun in them.

Oh.

The last job you went on you worked with a team, you never saw his face and he was never much of a talker. You just remember his eyes as he held a gun to you ready to shoot…only to lower the gun and let you get away.

That had been Marc.

Without a second thought you ripped your wrist from his grip and grabbed the glass laying on the nightstand throwing it at him. Your heart pounded as you made your way through the open door, sure to close and block it before he had time to reach it. You were sure by now you were on the verge of a heart attack with how loudly your heart was pounding. You could hear Marc on the other side banging the door with his fists. You had no plan, your heart was breaking all over again and your entire body has gone into a fight and flight zone. You made your way down the wooden stairs skipping every other step, unafraid of the small fall you have on the last step before you regained balance and ran straight through the front door. Even from outside you can still hear him banging and screaming, you tried to decide where the best place to run to when the banging stopped. It wasn’t in Marc's nature to give up so you look behind you, he wasn’t coming down the stairs either. What the hell?

Then you heard a familiar grunt and footsteps above you.

The open window.

All at once it didn’t matter where you ran to as long as you ran. Your feet carried you swiftly into the tree lining of the woods surrounding the house. The adrenaline coursing through your veins hid the pain of the cuts and barbs that scratched you as you pushed them aside. Your goal was to run, or to find a pointy enough stick or a sharp enough stone to throw at him, but mainly run and hide.

You weren’t sure how long you ran, all you knew was that your lungs were on fire and you couldn’t feel your limbs. You knew you couldn’t run much further, at least, not at full speed. So you went to the nearest, sturdy tree you could find and climbed, you grabbed one branch after another. The bark dug into sensitive parts of your hand but you didn’t care, you could see your arms shaking as they pulled you up to that final branch. It seemed strong enough to hold your weight and shielded enough to provide cover.

One of the things the Red Room taught you was to assess weakness and who had the advantage. Marc had the advantage when it came to muscle mass, but you had experience–granted those were mainly espionage missions that required more brains than combat prowess. You always carried a gun on you, but if he was smart (which you know he is) he took that away and was carrying it with him now.

All this time, you thought he loved you and that you were protecting him. You never even suspected the truth, he seemed so familiar and you had that gut instinct that something was up but you ignored it. All this time everything had been a lie, he didn’t love you, he was finishing the job. How long did he have his eye on you before he made a move?

Stop! You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to focus on surviving.

You halted your greedy intakes of air as you heard rustling in the leaves. Careful not to make the slightest sound as you saw him run past, calling your name. You waited until you slowly couldn’t hear the crackling of the leaves before beginning your descent. Time was of the essence, at some point Marc will come back to retrace steps, so you had to make another break in a different direction he had gone. Maybe back to the house and hotwire the beat up jeep you saw in the driveway. Once there you would make it to the second nearest village because the nearest would be the first place he’ll look, use one of those grimy old payphones to call in your ID guy.

Your feet had barely touched the ground before you felt the wind being knocked out of you as you tackled the ground. You were pinned before you could push Marc off of you, unable to do much but struggle in his grip.

“Do it,” you growled while still fighting, “I’m not going to stop fighting but if you’re going to do it, do it now.”

“Do what now?!” His eyes wide and intense, his grip becoming tighter on your wrists again.

“Kill me!” You yell, “that’s what all this has been for, hasn’t it? I killed your boss and stole a lot of money and relics from the people who hired us. A lot of different people want me dead, a lot of powerful people who can make things happen want me dead for more than this. Once you kill me you’ll have your pick of the litter. Whatever you want.” You see his brows furrow as you feel his breath ghost over your lips.

“Have you ever thought that maybe what I wanted was you?” He pecked your lips once before continuing, “that I intended to keep you for myself rather than sell you to the highest bidder.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Cause I love you,” Marc said, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other caressed your cheek, “I have since we met on those desolate dunes, that has never been a lie.” you can feel his heartbeat as he lays his weight down on top of you, like so many times before, as his words swirl around your head. Your first thought was that he was lying, how could he not be? Deep down, however, as you looked him in the eyes you were reminded that Marc was many things–but a good liar was not one of them.

“You can love me,” you say, “and still betray me.” you hear him let out a frustrated groan as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his grip tighten before he lets your wrist go, and his weight on you is gone leaving you strangely cold. For a moment you think he’s letting you go, a foolish thought, one full of hope.

You were wrong.

No sooner had you gotten off the ground yourself, your feet were dangling above the ground as you were swung over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Had this been ANY different situation your knees would be weak for a different reason.

Once again you fought, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t going to kill you, not yet, but you were honest when you said you weren’t going down without a fight. You didn’t even register entering the house until he sat you on the couch with an unceremonious plop, his hands gripping your shoulders and a frustrated look in his eye.

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” He said, voice low edging on a growl.

“Give me one good reason to believe that you wouldn’t give me up.” You said, eyes narrowing, “a reason that I would believe.'' There was a beat of silence, you see his brows furrowed together as his brain itches for an answer that you know he wouldn’t have. He has betrayed you and has all the reasons in the world to sacrifice you to the altar.

Then the lights starting flickering,

The hairs on your neck stood on end as you felt a shift in the air, the lights flickering and a hum of something else. Something you’ve never encountered before. Then you see the bandages wrapping themselves around Marc like snakes and his eyes were no longer the dark color you used to adore. They glowed now like moonlight reflecting off of water.

Of course.

You’ve seen the small articles in the paper passing by or clickbait news in the media about London’s vigilante who called themselves Moon Knight. You usually never paid much attention to it, you rarely were out past dark anyway why would you? Maybe you should’ve.

“If I wanted anything that they have,” You hear him say as the mask unbound itself to reveal his face, “I would’ve just taken it, and they couldn’t have stopped me.”

“You’re moon knight.” Of course the first person you fall in love with is not only a mercenary, but also a superpowered vigilante. Your life hasn’t been ordinary, why would your love life be?! You groaned in frustration as you leaned your head back against the couch, “well that explains why you always look exhausted and always came back home at weird hours.”

“You knew about that?” He asked, you gave him a deadpan look, “...of course you did.” You look at him for a moment and replayed every moment in your head leading up to this, he had a point. With these powers he really could have walked into any place, taken what he wanted, and left. He wouldn’t have needed you, but why keep you?

“Ok,” you start, “so you don’t intend to sell me or kill me or whatever.”

“I’ve been telling yo-”

“But why keep me?” You ask, “Why bring me here? Based on this house and location it is-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Marc finished, his grip softening on your shoulders, “a small house with a sunroom, far away from everyone, a place to plant flowers and a lot more sun than what you got in the city…A home.”

“This would’ve taken at least half a year to build,” you say, “and another few weeks to a month to draft up the plans. So that means that you have been planning on bringing me here since-”

“Since fate decided to give us a second chance,” he said, “I couldn’t follow you before and lost you, trust me I tried to follow you but you were so damn good at running and hiding that I couldn’t find you. Then, one day, I see you on the bus. I was a fly on the wall, Steven was in charge, but I saw you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you, but seeing how you fled before, I knew I had to be patient. I told Steven everyday to talk to you, building him up until he eventually sat next to you.” You see him laugh a little, “I really shouldn’t have kept him up the night before, but it all turned out alright.”

He was sick, you knew this from the beginning, you just never looked below the surface of it. He needed help, something you couldn’t give him here.

“Baby,” You said softly, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of you, kissing the tops of his still bandaged covered hands, before leaning your forehead against his, you had to be calm. You had to convince him with honey and not vinegar. “Thank you so much for doing this, it must have been so much work.” You start, lowering your voice to barely a whisper, already sensing the tension leaving his body, “you must be so tired.”

“I am.”

“I’m just worried for you,” you said brushing your nose against his, “maybe we should see someone hmm? Like a specialist or a doctor, get you some melatonin or some medicine to help you sleep.” You feel him shake his head before you gently shush him, bringing a hand to cup his stubbly cheek, “just to help you sleep.”

“I don’t need them.” He says definitely, “I have you.”

“And you’ll always have me.” You promise, “let’s just call and make the appointment, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.”

“No,” he mumbles quietly at first, “no” a little louder, “I don’t-”

“Do it for me?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and giving him a small smile, “please baby.” gently moving your hand to scratch the nape of his neck you knew he was putty.

“Ok,” he agrees.

“Ok,” you quietly repeat, trying to keep your tone even, “how about we call them right now and make an appointment?”

“No.”

“Ok,” you say, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck, “we don’t need to call them right now but in a short bit here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You breathe in, “yeah.”

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 1 year

Note

for the follower ask song would be tupelo honey by dusty springfield fluffy slightly smutty. right now in real life i need a hug. a long hug. but thank you ahead of time for whatever happens.

Fluff Fluff Fluff with shadowy allusions to smut. My big bear internet hug to you, darling. Thank you so much for always being so supportive and encouraging. I truly appreciate it.

Pairing: Henry x Reader (You)

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 975

Warnings/Content: RPF

You closed the front door and immediately sagged back against it. The sigh you expelled was so heavy that you wondered if it took your soul with it. Exhaustion was a perpetual state of being and you wondered how much more you could survive before your body and mind finally gave up the ghost and checked out completely.

Pinching your eyes shut, you crumpled to the floor. Your belongings fell in heaps around you in the entryway as you drew your knees up and rested your forehead against them. No will to move. May even camp out here for the night.

“Tough day?”

You glanced up, blinking blearily through stress and fatigue to find Henry kneeling before you. You were so out of it that you’d not heard him approach. His brow knitted with concern as he leaned forward and cradled your head in his hand. His thumb ran soothingly over your cheek.

“Tough day. Month, year. Entire existence…” you murmured as you leaned into his touch. You rubbed at your eyes to release the steadily growing pressure. “Can’t seem to catch a break.”

Henry gingerly removed each of your shoes and set them aside. His strong fingers slowly kneaded up your calves and you groaned as the tightly-knotted tension began to unfurl at his touch.

You cast him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I know we planned to go out tonight but I don’t think I’ve got it in me.”

He patted your knees lightly before untangling you from your bags and coat. “A night in sounds perfect to me. Want some tea?”

“Tea would be lovely.

“Consider it done,” Henry answered. He chuckled at your squeal of surprise when he scooped you into his arms and lifted you from the floor.

“Henry, you don’t need to carry me,” you half-heartedly admonished. It felt good to be in his arms. “I can manage to the living room at least.”

“I disagree. I absolutely need to carry you.” Henry squeezed you tighter against the broad line of his chest on the way to the living room, and you couldn’t resist snuggling against his warmth. The familiar, woodsy scent of his cologne was profoundly comforting.

“And maybe I just want an excuse to fondle you.” His hand not-so-subtly sneaked up your thigh under the guise of adjusting his grip.

Your lips ticked into a smirk. “As if you need one.”

“True, I don’t,” he answered smugly.

Henry dropped a quick peck on your cheek as he deposited you on the sofa. He dimmed the lights, fluffed a couple of cushions and tucked them behind you, then leaned in and kissed you chastely on the mouth. After putting your favourite playlist on the speakers, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Before you had a chance to settle, Henry quickly reappeared, his jaw set firmly with determination as he strode purposefully toward the sofa. He slowly leaned down over you, his gaze dark and hot on yours as he grasped your chin firmly in his hand and kissed you with an intensity that lit your nerves on fire.

The kettle whistled and Henry growled his disapproval. With one last parting drag of his lips on yours, he disappeared again.

You bonelessly collapsed against the pillows with a dreamy, contented sigh. No lie, it felt good to be fussed over. And lusted after, even if you didn’t have the energy to capitalise on it at present.

Henry returned with tea in your favourite mug which you accepted with much gratitude. It diffused a soothing warmth through your limbs as you held it. You took a restorative sip and sighed happily. “Perfect.”

Henry graced you with a self-satisfied smile before snagging his phone and departing on stern instructions for you to sit back and relax whilst he ordered delivery. Not one to argue, you curled into the cushions and sipped, your mind drifting along with the music all the while. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in ages and just what you needed. The playlist shuffled and the smooth rhythm of Dusty Springfield’s Tupelo Honey floated through the air. A personal favourite. You set your tea aside and got lost in the music. “Dinner’s ordered. How’re you feeling?”

You opened your eyes and found Henry leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. He watched you with a boyish love-struck grin and your heart did a funny flip. All this time together and he still managed to make you feel the butterflies usually reserved for new love.

A flush heated your cheeks. “Much improved, thank you.”

“Excellent.”

Henry swiftly crossed the room. You made a startled squeak when he snagged your hand and gently tugged you to your feet. He snaked an arm around your waist, tucked your entwined hands snuggly against his chest and began idly swaying you both with the music.

You couldn’t resist melting into his embrace as you danced. Henry led you in slow, measured circles; the deep melodic rumble of his hums filled your ears and everything became intensely tactile: the soft brush of his cotton shirt on your skin, the steadying heat he radiated into your bones, the squish of the carpet between your toes as you moved along. It was a kind of grounding that really fuelled your soul.

“Ready?”

“Ready for wha—” There was a contented sleepiness to your voice, but you didn’t get to finish your question before he encouraged you into a spin. And then another, and another, not drawing you back to him until you were breathless and alight with joy.

“How is it you always know just what I need?" You beamed up at him. “You’re the absolute best.”

Henry kissed you tenderly before tucking your head under his chin. “Only because you love me.”

🎊FOLLOWER MILESTONE CELEBRATION🎊

FEEL FREE TO SEND ME A FAVOURITE SONG OR LYRIC AND I WILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE/ONE SHOT FOR HENRY OR ANY OF HIS CHARACTERS BASED ON IT!

🍦CHOOSE YOUR PAIRING

🍦 CAN BE FLUFFY, SMUTTY, ANGSTY, OR ANY COMBINATION THEREOF. PLEASE INCLUDE ANY DETAILS YOU WANT TO BE INCLUDED WITH YOUR ASK.

I’m keeping this open all week so if you have a request, don’t be shy! Thank you all for celebrating with me ❤️

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #rpf #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill rpf #fic: follower milestone celebration #sweetdreamsofgelato writes

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bcolfanfic · 3 months

Note

the young veterns au thing you made was so endearing! do you have HCs in that au because now i need more

wahh thank you!!! i had fun making it...part of the fun being scrolling through callum turner pinterest but ah ah anyways. i do have HCs!

in my head curt does survive in this AU, he just gets some really gnarly injuries and goes home before the other guys- perhaps a leg or arm blown off. he makes the most of it though, and antagonizes the other guys with dark jokes about it. especially if it's his leg that he lost. noo curt don't call yourself a pirate noo get a normal prosthetic not a peg leg

also re: world building based on some very surface level googling in my mind they were all in afghanistan- and came home for good when the US pulled out of there, some of them before that. so in Modern Day 2024 they haven't been back for *that* long. (this is not a personal endorsement of the us involvement there to be very clear but like- there are only so many places for a modern au about young vets to get its background from. if i ever wrote this i'd actually be super interested in exploring the "we shouldn't have been there" side of things but ah i'll end that tangent there for now)

as you can kinda see in the gale's phone AU thing, poor bucky gets quite fucked up in the head. and gale wants to throw the useless VA guys who honestly making things worse through a wall on his behalf. that's gale's baby and it tears him apart that he can't just wave a magic wand and fix everything for him.

it messes him up the most at night and a part of the VA fuckery is when they're trying to get him seen by someone who can figure out how to help with his sleep. whether it's waking up from nightmares or not being able to fall asleep to begin with it's not good.

but he finds a lot of comfort in gale, and being in his arms. sometimes he just about rocks him to sleep- which he'd do forever and a day if bucky let him. he just loves him so much.

gale and bucky move back to wyoming when they're back in the US for good. it's home to gale, and he thinks it'll be good for bucky to be somewhere less chaotic. the other guys kinda spread out every which way, a couple of them going as far as wanting to fuck off from the united states for good and moving to europe. in my head that's what crosby and his wife do, and maybe rosie.

but they all keep in touch, how could they not- they love each other too much. they try to get everyone in the same room at least a few times a year. which is really chaos the more kids everyone has, but seeing their kiddos be buddies just like them makes the hassle to get everyone there worth it.

when bucky's PTSD is more under control and he's in a better place generally they adopt through a 'kids waiting in foster care' program. they briefly considered going the infant adoption route, but just felt more called to the alternative.

as many of the guys as possible fly out for their little daughter's official adoption day at the courthouse- and it's the best day of their lives. they're such good dads and how happy they are radiates off of them.

i have many more thoughts but this is already prob more than you wanted, LOL!

#young vets au #masters of the air #buck cleven #buck x bucky #bucky egan #gale cleven #john egan #bucky x buck #mota #buck(y)#clegan #curtis biddick #curt biddick

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satancopilotsmytardis · 5 months

Note

22. "Show me how much you need me" and a kink huh..... Maybe...begging? or choking? Idk have some fun!

(I'm still in the process of writing my comments for network btw it was just to good and I've fallen in love with it, so thankyou for writing it and sorry the comment is taking so long!)

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: E

Contents: Catboy!Dabi, mating cycle/heat, begging, implied marathon sex, sex toys, multiple orgasms, petplay, feminization

Dabi's life is a joke. Some sick, cruel god thought it would be funny to make a creature that wasn't made to survive and then Dabi spent every second fighting against that asshole's will to make it anyway. And it always sucked. Want a great quirk, kid? Too bad, burn on a mountain. Oh, you survived that? Replaced and homeless. Huh, you're still alive, and you've managed to get a good thing going with a little found family of criminals? Oops, you're a cat now.

Because yeah, in the middle of the skirmish in Deika, Dabi had gotten blasted by a wayward quirk during his fight with Geten. And he's a cat now. Or more accurately, he's a heteromorph now. He was lucky he didn't get a big lungful of the gas because it would have turned him entirely into a cat if he had. What's less lucky is that the retractable claws, slitted pupils, fangs, tail, and extra ears are permanent now. Should have worn off after a couple of hours, but according to Ujiko, due to the skin grafts and treatments he received in his coma, you know, when he'd been considering turning him into a nomu, his body was more susceptible to changes like this. Which was the doc's nice way of saying he'd fucked around with Dabi's DNA and made his cells ready to receive some new code, but he'd escaped the hospital before that happened and this quirk had gone and filled in the blanks. And without extensive gene therapy that would take months, if not years and may prove fatal, Dabi was stuck like this. He's a cat now. Fuck his life.

That's not to say being a cat is all bad. He definitely hadn't wanted to be a cat. But the inhanced senses are nice, and holy fuck does fish taste better now, plus getting pet is awesome-- even if Tomura is the only one he lets do it because it makes him purr like an idiot. Of the curveballs he's been thrown in life, this one has been one of the least horrendous, so he sucks it up and moves on with his life. And everything is pretty normal for the most part. They get things resituated with the PLF, he adjusts, and things are actually better for the League than they have been, possibly ever.

Until he starts waking up at night with the others pounding on his door telling him to shut up. Actually, they had been nice about it the first couple of times, asking if he was hurt or having nightmares or something, but he hadn't known what the fuck they were talking about. Absolutely thought they were gaslighting him as some kind of prank before Toga showed a recording of his door, and the awful loud feline yowls that had been coming out from the room, cutting out only after she pounded on it to wake him up. He has no idea why he's been, apparently, screaming in his sleep. He hasn't even had all that many nightmares lately, certainly not often enough to account for a solid week of screaming.

He also starts to have the urge to rub his cheeks against things. His phone, his pack of cigs, the pillows in his and Duster's bedroom, the rest of the League. Keeps getting distracted and nuzzling against them, which they're being better sports about than the yowling thing. Even if he does hiss at them when they try to pet him while he's doing it. Usually snaps out of it at that point and excuses himself to be mortified elsewhere. He also keeps finding himself outside. Just walking. Keeps catching himself trying to scent the air like he's looking for something, and it doesn't do him any good. He can't find what he's looking for and he ends up back in the villa incredibly cranky and angry that he's going back to an empty bed. And then the cycle starts again. It's so bad and strange, that when Duster is finally finished with his latest round of treatments, Dabi goes to the doctor's lab to pick him up, just so he can see him as soon as possible.

He gets there and finds Ujiko in the tank room with their new batch of High Ends, his lover out of sight. "Ah, he's sleeping off the sedation from his last treatment. Once he wakes you two are free to go." Dabi is about to go find somewhere to sulk until then, but reluctantly asks instead,

"Been feeling weird lately, Doc, you got a minute?" Not thrilled that the mad scientist who was preparing to make him a monster is his only source of medical attention, but he's Dabi's only source of medical attention so he's going to suck it the fuck up.

"Of course!" Hates how excited the mad doctor sounds about that and takes Dabi to one of the actual rooms and makes him sit on the table like he is a real doctor and Dabi is in for a normal check-up. The doctor draws blood, goes through the usual steps, and Dabi tells him about the weird cat behaviors that he's been dealing with lately while one of his weird advanced machines processes his blood. He doesn't like the way that his brows creep higher and higher as he speaks, but Ujiko just tells him, "Let's see what your bloodwork says."

When that's ready, he reviews it and makes those humming 'ah fascinating' sounds the whole time which only serves to make dabi more irritated, his ears pinning back and tail flicking as his claws bite into his pants.

"It seems as though you may be experiencing a... heat of sorts soon."

Of every fucking thing that the doctor could have said to him, that is not one that Dabi would have guessed in a million years. "A what?" His brain reboots quickly, "That's not possible, aren't heats for girl cats?"

Ujiko hums in agreement. "They are. Traditionally male cats don't have a mating cycle as such-- but they can react to a female cat's hormones even from quite a distance. There are other feline heteromorphs, it's possible that you're reacting to those pheromones, someone may be bringing more in through the villa, or, perhaps," and his tone changes to a little more careful in a way that sets every one of Dabi's nerves on edge. "There is some behavior or stimulus that you have been in contact with frequently that has had a... placebo effect, making the newly accepted cat DNA a bit confused about which behaviors it should be exhibiting in regards to sexual presentation."

Dabi is about to make him fucking elaborate on that when the door opens and Duster comes in. Always is a bit paler after spending a week with the doctor, but he's dressed and got his prosthetics on, so he's probably ready to go. Blinks when he sees him. "Firefly, what are you doing here?"

That's it, my pretty pussy, purr for me.

Such a good girl, kitten. Taking my cock so well.

Needy little thing, arching your back so cute. Pushing out your pretty tits. Just begging to be fucked full, aren't you, princess?

"I'm going to murder you." He says in loo of anything else. And Ujiko just clears his throat and moves along with Duster's pre-discharge check-in.

///

They get back home and go through work with Dabi hissing and snarling at Shigaraki any time he speaks to him. Duster, for his part, once Dabi had told him what the doctor said to him, had just looked vaguely amused about the whole situation. And the worst part is, the doctor was definitely right about the pseudo-heat. Because as soon as Shig is back, even though Dabi wants to be very, very justifiably angry with him, he's immediately so horny that it's distracting. When he's not actively snarling at his lover while they're in catch-up meetings, he's biting the insides of his cheeks bloody to keep from purring at him, or yowling, or trying to rub up against him to put his scent on him. And he's barely keeping himself from getting noticeably hard the longer the meetings go on. He's going to lose his mind if they aren't finished with this soon.

It's a big surprise when, instead of him breaking and just forgetting the other lieutenants are very much in the room in favor of climbing right into Tomura's lap, that it's Toga who suddenly gives a loud, agonized groan and whines, with her hand covering her nose, "Can we please be done now?" And he realizes abruptly that her sense of smell is as strong as his. He hisses at Duster for making this situation even more mortifying. Shig looks between the two of them with clear amusement and concedes, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand. Then he stands and gestures for Dabi to follow. If he weren't fucking gagging for it, Dabi would have told him to fuck off. Instead he immediately follows after him, an embarrassing feline whine slipping out of his throat in plain earshot of all of his co-workers. Spinner and Twice start to howl with laughter, but he's gonna have to kill them after he gets Tomura to rearrange his guts.

As soon as the door to their room is shut, Dabi is pressing up against his lover. Loud, needy yowls leaving him as he rubs his cheeks against Tomura’s, against his neck, over his shoulders. And he's already hard just from the press of their bodies and the smell of his lover in his nose. Can't stop himself from grinding his cock against him too so he can feel how badly he needs it.

"Oh, kitten," mewls so loudly when his hand goes to his hair, scratching nails just right around the base of one of his secondary ears. "After how rude you were before--"

"Tomura," he whines.

Catches his ear and gives a mean little tug. Just enough to hurt, and that almost makes Dabi's legs drop out from under him, his arousal spikes so sharply. Barely been alone for a minute and Dabi is so desperate that he'd happily cum in his pants, fucking his lover's thigh just to get some relief. "You really are just a needy whore, a bitch in heat, aren't you, princess?"

"Yes, sir," he agrees immediately. His whole body feels hot. Not the way his quirk normally makes him, but in a tingly way that is making an ache expand out across his skin. Centered at his-- he gives a mortified little mew. Oh god, he's empty and that hurts. He needs Sir's cock inside of him. Needs his cum inside.

Tomura's smiling at him, that lazy, mean smile that already turns him on nearly past the point of coherency when he's not in some animalistic state of mind. "Show me how much you need me, kitten." And Sir steps out of his space, watching him expectantly.

Show? His mind feels hazy. He can do that though, he can show his mate how badly he needs him. His hands are shaking as he starts to shrug out of his clothes, made even harder because he can't put away his claws, but he manages to start shedding layer after layer until he's naked as he moves as fast as he can over to their bed. He's frantic as he grabs their lube and yowls loudly when he sees Tomura taking his sweet time to come over to the bed, chuckling as he undoes his tie. Fine. Dabi scrambles onto the mattress, trying his best to make his claws go away, but when he can't he gives up. Gets on his knees, spreading his legs wide, his tail pressing up along his back, and his shoulders and face against the sheets. His cock is throbbing and dripping a steady stream of pre, so much that he's already making a puddle on the bed. He whimpers loudly and uncaps the lube. Can't open himself up with his claws out, but he still spreads it over his hole. The first touch of fingers there makes him moan desperately and nearly forgets himself in the need to be fuller. Only is stopped from tearing himself open because Tomura's hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him gently away.

"Oh, kitten, that badly?"

It's all so overwhelming. He's never felt like this before. Is a slave to the needs of his messed up body again. Dabi can't help it. He lets out a weak sob, nodding his head as bloody tears slip down his cheeks. Tomura makes a soft worried sound, but then there's the rustling of fabric and the mattress dips. He presses along the length of Dabi's body, peppering kisses to the back of his neck. "Okay, princess, you're being such a good kitty, I'm going to help."

And then there are fingers against his hole. Dabi purrs as they sink inside of him, trying to sniffle and choke away the tears. But he needs it so badly. Normally the stretch of his mate's fingers is needed before he can have anything else, but he needs to be full. His fingers aren't enough right now. Dabi rocks back against them, mewling and making a whole litany of feline sounds in his desperate need to be given what he really wants. Gasps, and whimpers, and sobs louder when Tomura shushes and pets him, kisses along his back, wraps his hand around his cock and starts to stroke him slowly and deliberately. But it's not enough, and Dabi accidentally sinks his claws into the back of his hand when he reaches to get his touch away from there. He needs more in his cunt, not that. Just needs to be fucked full. Get his mate's cum so deep inside of him, oh, just the thought has him meowing pitifully.

"My pretty kitten," definitely worried now. "Are you hurting, baby?"

Dabi manages to nod with another sob and Tomura coos and shushes him, fingers pulling out of his needy body much sooner than he normally would think necessary to take his big cock and the rough fucking Dabi needs so, so badly right now. "I'm going to help you feel better," he promises. "Going to give you exactly what you need, princess."

And he finally, finally does. Tomura fucks him hard, Dabi purring and rocking back into every movement, pleasure so sharp it hurts, he can feel it pulsing everywhere in a symphony that sends his human mind so far away he can't do anything but let his instincts drive. His claws sink into the sheets, past them, into the mattress, and the sounds coming out of him are all animal. They don't mean anything to his mate, but to him, they're a constant spill of his desperate need. They echo around his skull, begging to be mated, to be fucked so full, to have his mate's cum pumped deep inside of him over, and over, and over again until he knows for certain that he's been fully bred. Dabi doesn't cum until he feels Tomura's release splashing wetly against his walls, and then he immediately collapses onto the bed, into the wet spot, fingers going to his now empty hole, wanting to keep as much of his cum inside as possible-- and only then realizes that that wasn't enough. That it didn't feel right as he pulled himself so quickly off of his mate's softening cock. It should have hurt. Something human tries to float up to tell him that, no it should not have, but his feline brain is positive it should have. That if it didn't then that means it wasn't right. He needs it again.

He manages to get it another three times before his exhausted body gives out, but he's still not satisfied. It still felt wrong. And by the time Tomura has cleaned him up, even licking at his cheek to try and get him to purr, and put him into their clean bed, he's mewling weakly and crying again softly.

Whatever amusement Duster had over the situation is long gone now as he pets him and holds him close, rubbing their cheeks together. "Dabi, can you tell me what's wrong? I can't help if you don't use your words, kitten."

He sniffles, pressing in closer. "Wrong, n-not full enough. Hurt, Tomura--" stops with another loud yowl.

"What hurts, sweetheart?"

He shakes his head. "Need it, should hurt." And that makes Tomura tense against him, holding him a little tighter. But he keeps stroking his hair, soothing him, until Dabi falls into a fitful sleep.

///

He wakes up screaming for it again, looking immediately for his mate, but he doesn't have to. Tomura is climbing back into bed with him, and pressing gently between Dabi's shoulder blades. He immediately drops back onto the mattress, pushing his ass up the way he'd presented before. Oh! There's already something inside of him. It's not very big, but it's there, and his mate eases it out of him, letting Dabi feel that he's wet already too. He purrs like a chainsaw when he realizes that means he can have his mate's cock immediately. Tomura starts to press inside and Dabi sucks in a sharp breath.

And then he moans so loudly he nearly loses his voice. Tomura's cock is perfect. It's so big, always big, but it has a different texture now something that's just the right amount of sharp so that as he fucks into his pliant, desperate body, it hurts the way he'd needed it too. He purrs so loudly, losing himself to how right it feels now to be bred by his mate.

Manages to cum much more easily than he did before, and when he's all filled up with his mate's cum, his hole aches as he pulls out and that sensation quells his intense need. He's able to roll over and sees that Tomura is wearing a neon green cock sleeve, littered with modest spikes along the whole length of it.

"Whuh?" He manages very intelligently. His mate leans down and gives him a kiss.

"Read up on cat behaviors, thought this might help. Was that better, kitten?"

Wraps his arms around his neck so that he can arch and rub their bodies together from head to toe, tangling their scents all together as he purrs and nods.

Tomura kisses his cheek, and then rubs them together, making Dabi's purrs go even louder as his tail coils around one of his legs, as if he could get him any closer without having him back inside of him again. "When this passes we can stop playing with feminization, firefly. Make sure it doesn't happen again. I'm sorry."

Dabi shakes his head. "Don't want to stop. Like being your pretty kitten," just the thought has his cock starting to swell again and his hole tightening unhappily on how empty he currently is. "But if I get pregnant I'm killing us both. No hesitation, Shigaraki."

Duster chuckles, "I checked in with the doctor again, not a possibility unless you grow a lot of new organs, baby. You haven't felt any intense abdominal or pelvic pain?"

"Uh-uh,"

"Then you're fine. Just going to keep being needy for a... little while."

And the change in his tone pulls Dabi a little out of the contented floaty place he was at. "'A little while'? How long is that, Duster?" Tomura winces slightly. "Tomura Shigaraki," He demands a little more harshly.

"...Could be a whole week, kitten."

"You are very lucky that I need your dick in me again, or I would kill you."

"I'm sorry, firefly--" "Dick, right now, Duster!"

Thanks for submitting! Consider leaving a comment, they help to keep the typing box going!

#ask #asks #shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #prompt response #prompt fill

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karmic-vibes · 2 years

Text

If I Can Dream

24 - While I Can Think, Talk, Stand, Walk

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr / lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: general teenage angst, mentions of not eating (not related to any EDs !!), blood

Year: 2004

“Okay, just a few more steps,” Eddie said.

His hands were over Bobby’s eyes as he guided her out of the house, down the driveway. The teenager was giggling to herself, stumbling over her own feet as her father tried leading the way. Eddie peered around the girl, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, trying his best to focus.

“Nearly.” They took a few more steps as Eddie sighed in relief. “Okay, ready?”

“Yes!”

“Alright… one, two, three!” He pulled his hands away and ran to meet Steve.

“Oh my god…”

“Tada!”

The two were standing next to a brand new, navy blue BMW Beamer, arms raised with cheer. There was a bright red bow on the hood of the car—the perfect finishing touch to the teenager’s birthday gift.

“I… oh my god… thank you guys!”

She ran into their arms, crying tears of joy. Bobby had recently gotten her license and was constantly asking to borrow Eddie’s decked out Dodge Charger, over Steve’s practical Mercedes sedan. So, the couple compromised and got her a Beamer—best of both worlds.

“Now, there’s a couple rules,” Steve started. “First–”

“When can I take her for a spin?” Bobby cut him off.

“After we tell you the rules and responsibilities, okay?”

“Fine… lay them on me.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed, hands resting on his hips. “First, having a car is a big responsibility. You need to make sure all its preventative maintenance is done, like oil changes, tire rotations–”

“Yeah, okay, what else?” Bobby was practically buzzing from excitement.

“There’s going to be a curfew. You can leave as early as you need for work or school, but I expect to see you home, in the driveway, walking through that front door no later than ten, got it?”

“But dad,” she whined. “All my friends get to stay out until eleven, sometimes even later!”

“And you’ll survive coming home an hour earlier.”

“Fine,” she pouted. “What else?”

“You’re responsible for putting gas in it, got it? Pops and I will handle insurance and payments and everything, but gas is up to you. We want you saving your hard earned money, but we still want you to be responsible for something this big. Understood?”

“Yes, dad. Keys, please?”

“Here,” he smiled, handing them over.

“Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She hugged them, eagerly jumping up and down.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie giggled, “just be safe, alright?”

“I will, papa. I love you guys so much!”

Bobby released herself from the hug and ran to the driver’s seat. Steve took the bow off the car, tucking it under his arm, as he waved his daughter off.

“She didn’t grab her license, did she?” Steve asked.

“Nope.”

“Her phone is probably inside too, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Whole purse?”

“Mhmm.”

“How long until you think she figures it out?”

“I give her ten minutes.”

A few days passed and Bobby had barely been home—she was taking her car out at any chance she had. The boys would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy having a little helper go to the store, or put gas in their cars, or even have to drive her around anymore. However, it broke their heart to see their little girl so grown up.

Ever since Bobby got her car, the boys noticed she was becoming more secretive. Whenever she went out, she never explicitly said what she was doing or who she was going out with. Steve trusted that she knew was she was doing, but Eddie was constantly panicked. He was her age once—terribly sneaky and always getting into trouble (at least before dating Steve).

One day, Bobby came home right before dinner was on the table. She rushed through the corridor, dumping her bag in the hall, and trying to run up the stairs. However, her efforts were stopped by Eddie catching the hood of her sweatshirt.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” he asked.

“Upstairs,” she mumbled.

“Dinners gonna be ready in a few minutes.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bobby Judas, why are you facing away from me?”

“It’s nothing, pops! Jesus Christ, leave me alone!”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked. “Bobbs, come on, dinners nearly ready.”

“I’m not hungry!” She yelled, finally facing her parents.

Their eyes widened when they finally saw their little girl—septum pierced along with bilateral nostrils. Eddie stammered as he tried to find the right words, but Steve took them right out of his mouth.

“What did you do?” Steve uttered.

“Went to the piercer…”

“How… how did you get… who signed off on parental consent?”

“I… um…”

“Um?” Eddie fumed.

“I have a fake…”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed. “You could’ve just asked us! Honey, you know us, we would’ve said yes. B-But going behind our backs? Bug, it’s a slap in the face.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think you guys would approve…”

“How did you expect to hid three piercings?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Do you know how to properly take care of everything?” Steve sighed.

“Sorta…”

“Christ, okay, did the piercer tell you? Give you instructions or anything?”

“No, but Judah–”

“Ugh,” Eddie scoffed.

“What, papa? What do you have against my boyfriend?”

“Where do I start,” he seethed.

“Eddie,” Steve warned.

“He has made you rebellious and has you going behind our backs! We didn’t raise you to be like this!”

“Well, turns out, you did!”

And just like that, Steve was teleported nearly twenty years into the past. Back to one of the many arguments he had with his parents—specifically, when he stood up on Eddie’s behalf. He was sick and tired of his parents misgendering Eddie—he figured it was time to finally stand up for himself and his [now] husband. Steve had dissociated, being stuck in a memory.

“I didn’t raise a fag,” John spat.

“Well, turns out, you did,” Steve grit his teeth. “I love him. He’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

It wasn’t until Bobby’s yelling pulled him back into reality.

“I love him! He’s fun and older and mature. He’s everything a girl could want,” she fawned.

“How much older,” Steve asked.

“What?”

“Bobby, how old is he?”

“Only nineteen.”

“Bobby!” the two yelled.

“I knew you’d react this way! Ugh, why can’t I just be happy!”

“While you live under our roof, you live by our rules. Are we clear?” Eddie scolded.

“You guys ruin all my fun. I hate you!” She cried, running up to her room.

Tears streamed down Eddie’s face as he hit the corridor wall just enough to make the paint chip. He wiped his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve and stormed back into the kitchen with Steve hot on his trail.

“We can’t yell at her like that,” Steve said. “It’ll only make everything worse.”

“No, I know,” Eddie sniffed. “I just… we didn’t raise her to shy away or hide from us. I-I thought we were doing a good job at forming that close bond where she could tell or ask us anything.”

“I guess not,” Steve sighed. “But think back to when you were her age… were you any better?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Stevie… I don’t want her to be like me.”

“Smart, pretty, and successful?” he teased.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled. “I’m being serious. When I was sixteen, Christ, I was getting sketchy tattoos in peoples basements. I-I was out in the woods growing my own pot and selling it to people.”

“You were what?”

“Please, I sold much worse.”

“You what?”

“What?” Eddie shrugged.

“Eds, we’ve been married for how many fucking years and you’re just now telling me you used to be a drug dealer?”

“How did you think I made my money?” He raised a brow.

“Hell, I don’t know, maybe working like a normal person‽”

“Please, when have you ever known me to be normal?”

“Touché…”

“So what’re we gonna do about Bee?” Eddie sighed.

“Eds, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We just have to let her make her own choices and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

“I miss when she was little,” Eddie pouted. “God, we were best friends. She was a mini-me—a little sidekick!”

“To be fair, Eds, she’s still a mini-you. She’s just reached that rebellious stage,” Steve shrugged. “Let her ride it out. I’m sure it’ll all work out—it did with you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but only because I started dating the hot jock, not some dude who already graduated.”

“Ed, you were supposed to already be graduated when we started dating. You’re reading too deep into this.”

“Yes, but I was nineteen and you were eighteen. A little different than sixteen and nineteen.”

“I’m not saying I’m happy about it, but us trying to stop it is going to do more harm than good.”

“I guess you’re right… do you wanna try getting her down here for dinner? Or at least bring a plate up to her?”

“I think it’d be better if you did it, Eds.”

“Why me?”

“The tensions been a lot higher between you two than me and her.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll go try and bring her down.”

Eddie ascended the stairs and made his way to his daughter’s room. He gently knocked a few times before testing to see if the knob would turn. When it did, he let himself in. Bobby was sitting on her bed, legs clung to her chest, journal balanced atop her knees—headphone cords dangling from her ears as music blared loud enough even for Eddie to hear.

“Bobbs?” Eddie started. She glanced up, rolled her eyes, and went back to journaling. “Bobby, honey, I’m sorry.” Eddie closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed. “Bee, please…”

“What do you want?” she huffed, ripping her headphones out.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t wanna hear it. Judah and I are happy.”

“No, I know, but forgive me for worrying. If you ever become a parent you’ll understand.”

“What’s the big deal? Huh? You’re older than dad!”

“Yes, honey, I know, but we were nineteen and eighteen when we started dating. We were both legal. I just worry that he’s gonna take advantage of you.”

“He’s not that stupid, and neither am I. He knows better—mainly because I think he knows you and dad would kill him,” she giggled.

“He better know,” Eddie weakly smiled. “We love you, bug, and we just want you to be happy and safe.”

“I’m a big girl, pops, you don’t need to baby me.”

“Bobby, you’ll always be my baby. Even when dad and I are old and gray, you’ll still be our baby.”

“What do you mean when?”

“Bobby Judas!” Eddie teased. “Ugh, fresh. You literally are a mini-me, Christ.”

“Oh my god, it’s almost like I came outta you.”

“You came out of me‽” Eddie jokingly gasped. “I thought I was a man!”

“Oh, shit, pops, I love you.” Bobby laughed to herself, nudging him with her foot.

“I love you too, bug. So, what’d ya say? Come downstairs for dinner?”

“I’m honestly not hungry, papa.”

“Then at least join us? Please?”

“I’ll be down in a few, okay?”

“Okay… love you.”

“I love you too.”

A few days passed, and while amends had been made, Bobby was still sneaking around, getting herself into trouble. One random evening, Steve and Eddie heard a bump in the night, jostling them awake.

“What was that?” Eddie groaned.

“Was that Bobby?”

“Probably.”

“Can you go check on her?”

“Whose night did we leave off on?”

“Eddie, that was like ten years ago. How the fuck am I supposed to remember?”

“Because you’re supposed to be the smart one here, Steven.”

“Go check on our spawn, for fuck’s sake.”

“Christ, fine.”

Eddie swung his legs out of bed and trudged down the hall. He quietly opened Bobby’s bedroom door and glanced in, not seeing his teenager anywhere, not even her bed (which did not look slept in).

“Piece of shit, stupid fucker.”

Eddie turned his head, hearing sobbing coming from the upstairs bathroom. He knocked on the door, not even waiting for an answer.

“Bee, is everything– Bobby!”

Tears pricked at Eddie’s eyes as he saw his daughter crying, blood pooling in her hands as it poured from her nose. He rushed in, panicking to help her in some way—any way.

“Bobby, wh-what happened? Did that piece of shit hit you?”

“No,” she cried. “We-We-We– god!” She sobbed hysterically.

“Just breathe, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Eddie cooed. He dampened a wash cloth as he cleaned her face.

“We broke up,” she sniffed.

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“No, I did, pumpkin, and I’m sorry to hear that, but why are you bleeding?”

“I was taking my piercings out,” she frowned. “He was the one that liked them… I don’t want ‘em anymore.”

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sighed.

“What’s going on? I heard crying!” Steve panted, bursting through the threshold.

“Smooth, Harrington.”

“Shut it. Bobby, what’s wrong? You’re bleeding…”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Okay, watch the fucking attitude, Eds. Bobbs, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“Papa, don’t make me repeat it,” she cried.

“I’ll explain later, Steve, just go back to bed. I’ve got it handled.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Look at me, bug…”

Eddie gingerly lifted her chin as he dabbed away at the blood staining her sore nose. She winced in pain at every passing swipe, Eddie tutting his tongue in sorrow. He couldn’t stand seeing his daughter sad—never mind in pain.

“Bee?” Eddie whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you ask us for help? O-Or wait until the morning when we could take you to a piercer to get this stuff removed?”

“I dunno, I just panicked,” she shrugged. “You wouldn’t know—you’ve never been heart broken.”

“Says who?” Eddie asked.

“Please,” Bobby scoffed. “You and dad have been together for a million years.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t date before that.”

“Wait, you… you were in love before dad?”

“Mhmm, sure was.”

“What was his name?”

“It was actually a girl.”

“Oh… I never knew you ever dated any girls.”

“Girl… just the one.”

“Does dad know?”

“Mhmm. He was actually friends with her back in high school, long before we started dating.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Oh, gorgeous,” Eddie beamed.

“Why’d you break up?”

“Well, sweetheart, I realized I wasn’t into women in that way. I was confused when I was younger—trying different things, seeing what felt right. My junior year of high school, I rekindled with this beautiful girl who I was friends with back in middle school. I knew I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know in what way. At the time, I thought I was a lesbian… I was getting so much gender envy from all the guys, I just thought I hated men. Turns out, I wanted to be them,” Eddie chuckled. “But, before she joined the cheer squad and became popular, we briefly dated, and yeah… the rest is history.”

“And you loved her?”

“I adored her, honey. I loved her as a person, and I honestly kick myself for not keeping in touch after the breakup.”

“Was it mutual?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “We realized we were different and not what we wanted. We were both heartbroken, sure, but we still loved each other.”

“That’s so… bittersweet…”

“Sure was,” Eddie whispered.

Eddie eased out the remainder of her fresh piercings, throwing them haphazardly in the trash. He finished cleaning up Bobby’s face and hands before running to get her a clean pair of pajamas. After she changed, she headed back to the bathroom to take off the rest of her makeup. Eddie took it upon himself to undo her ponytail and brush out her fried hair.

“Thanks, papa,” she sighed.

“Anytime, bug.”

“Papa?”

“Hmm?”

“Actually, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No, what’s up?”

“How did you know you loved dad?”

“I just knew,” he beamed. “I can’t really explain it. I knew I loved him pretty early on, but I never said it until about six months in.”

“What made you finally say it?”

“Well…” Eddie’s cheeks burned red, thinking back to the night him and his husband confessed their love.

“Oh, fuck, Steve. Shit, I love you so fucking much,” Eddie babbled.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve huffed, trying to hold out for Eddie. “You feel so fucking good, god. So tight, so wet—all for me.”

“All for you,” Eddie whined. “God, please, Steve!”

“Pops?”

“Hmm?” Eddie’s eyes widened, pulling himself back into reality.

“What made you say it?”

“Just… how sweet and understanding he was when I came out.”

“What made you come out to him?”

“He was upset our relationship wasn’t progressing the way he had hoped. He started asking if there was a problem with him and he got all worked up. I couldn’t hide from him anymore so I showed him my bandages–”

“From top surgery?”

“No, no, that wasn’t until a year or so later. I mean, I used to use ace bandages to bind my chest down. But he took them off, cared for me, and has loved me unconditionally ever since.”

“If that never happened, would you have ever come out to him?”

“It’s hard to say, honestly. I was afraid of losing him.”

“But why would you want to be with someone who wouldn’t love you for you?”

“You never knew him in high school,” Eddie chuckled. “God, did you know, dad initially wanted upwards of six kids. Six, Bobby!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she giggled.

“I know, but I still can’t get over it! Regardless… I loved him so much that, if I never came out, lord, I would’ve popped all six out for him. I would’ve been miserable, but if he was happy, that’s all I cared about.”

“That seems toxic…”

“It would be if he didn’t love me back or didn’t compromise. But alas, he did, and he just wants to see me happy too. Seeing me happy was just having you,” he smiled. “That’s called loving someone unconditionally… all their beauty and all their flaws.”

He continued brushing through her hair, grabbing the numerous products Steve bought for her, and properly pampered her hair. Bobby closed her eyes and sighed contently. She knew this is what love was supposed to be—someone to always be there for you, care for you, and accept you no matter what; all your beauty, and all your flaws.

“Papa?”

“Yes, bug?”

“You said you would’ve been miserable with multiple kids.”

“Mhmm.”

“Did you ever think you were gonna be miserable with me?”

“Oh, god, yes. Bobby, I was petrified when I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified that I wouldn’t love you, or that you wouldn’t love me. Thankfully, dad knocked some sense into me.”

“How so?”

“He said something along the lines of people who worry about not loving someone often already love them more than they know.”

“And?”

“Wouldn’t ya know it—I love you more than life itself,” Eddie beamed. “You’re a good kid, Bee. Dad and I are proud of you… we always will be…”

“Thanks, papa,” she whispered. “Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass…”

“Eh, it’s alright. You’re a teenager—we’ve all had our moments. Okay…” Eddie whispered, tongue poked out in concentration as he tied Bobby’s hair into a braid. “And done! Get to bed, love bug. You have school in the morning.”

“Alright, pops. I love you.”

“I love you too—sleep well.”

Despite the boys’ best efforts, Bobby was still sneaking around. Steve and Eddie considered different forms of discipline, but they realized that would only make everything worse. Instead, they decided to try the opposite—play into it—let her know that they knew her every move.

“Bobbs! Dinner!” Steve called.

“Not hungry!”

“Bobby Judas, please come down and try to eat something!”

“I said I’m not hungry!”

“Bobby!” Eddie warned. “Get down here!”

“What’re you doing?” Steve whispered.

“Getting the spawn to eat.”

The boys heard the thumping of their child trudging down the stairs. She stood on the landing, arms crossed, hip jutted out against the banister. She raised a brow as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“What?” she snapped.

“Okay, cut the attitude, missy. Come sit down with us,” Eddie said.

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

“That’s fine, just sit with us.”

“But I have to work on my campaign.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Steve asked.

“You heard me.”

“While I’m so proud of you, join your father and I for dinner. If you eat, I’ll help you out and we’ll make a one-shot that is so hard and so sadistic, not even I’ll be able to beat it.”

“Shit, fine.”

She hopped down the few remaining stairs and pulled a seat up at the dining table. She grabbed a plate and a glass of water and took her usual spot between her fathers. She started shoveling the meal down her throat, trying to clear the table as quick as she could.

“So, how was school?” Steve asked, trying to start up a conversation.

“Fine,” Bobby mumbled.

“How’s your nose?” Eddie added.

“Fine.”

“Bee–”

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” She shoved the last remaining bits of food in her mouth before standing up. “Thanks for dinner. Bye.”

“Bobby–”

“Dad–”

“Sit, for fucks sake. We miss you, pumpkin. Talk to us.”

“Christ, fine.”

She slumped back down, crossing her arms in protest.

“So how’s school?” Steve asked again.

“It’s fine, seriously.”

“Meds working out okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re focusing okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“None of your friends are asking for your Adderall, right?”

“Some do.”

“You don’t… you don’t give it to them though, right?” Steve stuttered. “I love your father, but I don’t want you being like him.”

“Hey– eh, you’re right,” Eddie shrugged.

“No, I don’t give it to them.”

“You promise?”

“I swear, dad. I literally need it to function in school. I’m not about to just give it away or sell it. Plus, if I need money for something, I’ll just ask papa.”

“Okay… I believe you…” Steve sighed.

“So what’re you working on in your campaign?” Eddie asked with a mouth full of food.

“Christ, I thought you’d never ask!”

Bobby got lost in her story telling, speaking to her fathers more than she had in the past month. By the time she was done explaining her campaign, Steve was already cleaning up the mess from dinner. Eddie placed a kiss on Bobby’s head and joined his husband, helping him tidy up. Bobby peered in, smirking to herself as she quietly grabbed her car keys.

“I’m going to bed,” she called.

“Night, bug,” Eddie said. “We love you.”

“Love you too.”

She ran upstairs, locking her bedroom door behind her. She grabbed an array of pillows and clothes and stuffed them under her blanket to match the shape of her sleeping body. The young girl popped open her window and scaled down the front of her house like she had done many times before.

Bobby briefly fumbled with her keys, unlocking her car with the main key so her parents wouldn’t hear the alarm go off. She buckled herself in and started the engine, eager to drive off into the nothingness of Hawkins. As she tuned her radio to the desired station, she heard a voice echo from the backseat.

“Where are we going?”

“Ah!” She screamed.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Bobby?” Eddie asked.

“Sorry…” She whispered.

“Be home by twelve or I’m sending dad to come and get you.”

“But he’ll embarrass me!”

“Yeah, exactly.” Eddie got out of the car, leaning in through the window. “Just be safe, kiddo, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Please don’t hurt yourself or get into any trouble.”

“I know.”

“Dad and I love you and we hate that you’re becoming distant from us… I know we’re lame and everything but… but we miss you, Bee…”

“I’m sorry, papa. I love you guys too. It’s just, I’m not a little girl anymore. I wanna go out and have fun and do my own thing.”

“I understand,” he sighed. “All we ask is have dinner with us, alright?”

“Fine.”

“And don’t end up like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Bobbs, I was a sneaky, rebellious drug dealer who was held back three times. Go out and party and do whatever kids your age do. But for the love of god… don’t end up like me. Talk to us. Ask us for help. We’ll always be here for you… we want to be there for you…”

“I know… I’m sorry, papa…”

“It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her as tight as he could through the window. “Just be safe. You call us if you need us. No questions asked.”

“Okay, pops,” she giggled.

“Bye, pumpkin.”

“Bye, papa. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“No later than midnight!”

“I know, I know.”

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pancake-breakfast · 7 months

Text

It's difficult to understate the influence Nanami has had on my life. There have been a lot of stories that have touched me and moved me in my life, but very few have spurred me to meaningful action. I'd argue that the overall story of JJK itself is probably still unlikely to have that effect, but Nanami specifically already has.

When I first started watching the series a couple years, a friend who had already watched the show suggested I'd probably like him best, but I wasn't really expecting much. I don't always connect with (and sometimes actively resist connecting with) characters people expect me to connect with. But when Nanami showed up spitting truths about how both the business world and Jujutsu Society were full of shit, it struck a chord.

I'd been working for too many years in a job that was, in brief, Not Good. Like Nanami during his hiatus from Jujutsu Society, my company was based on making the rich richer with a lack of benefit to much of anyone else... though unlike Nanami, I was working in an industry that claims to benefit everyone, one that should benefit everyone and would theoretically be missed if it were gone, except that those who need it most often can't make use of it to begin with.

Like Nanami, I was often pulling crazy hours to get work done. This was particularly bad from October through January, leading to fights with family about whether I'd be attending holiday gatherings and a great deal of (justified) concern from a few loved ones about my well-being during the season. Unlike Nanami, I wasn't making bank for doing this; I was salaried, but all that meant was they didn't have to pay me more than lowest-end middle-class wages while still forcing me into overtime.

It was a job that was going to put me in the ground sooner rather than later, and for what? No benefit to me or to those one should look after in society. Just lining the pockets of those who already had too much money. It was a job I should have quit years ago, but for some reason or another, some legitimate and some less so, hadn't got around to doing yet.

Then I watched JJK. And read JJK. I saw Nanami and realized there was a character who "got it," and an author behind the character who "got it."

I got a Nanami sticker that I placed on my phone case to remind myself of important things. That work is shit. That the 9-5 grind to make money for those who already have it is worthless and there's far more nobility in the simple jobs that provide us with food and cleanliness even though those jobs pay pennies. That there's no point in draining one's self needlessly for a worthless, crap job.

I started working on a Nanami cosplay. I'd wanted to do cosplay for a long time, but rarely had the money and never made time for it. I still didn't have a lot of money, but Nanami's costume can mostly be purchased cheaply at second-hand stores and I'm clever enough with cheap supplies that I figured I could make his cleaver.

Most importantly, I started looking for a new job in earnest. I told myself there was no way in hell I was going through another round of feeling trapped and hopeless at my job from October through January, especially when my attempts to get help from my boss resulted in a bunch of good words and no actual help.

It worked.

I have no illusions that my new company isn't shit; it is still part of a very broken system and thus is, at best, shit in somewhat different ways. But the pay is better and the work load is more realistic, and again like Nanami, I'm somewhat better suited to it. And while it may not provide me with the opportunity to do things that have the kind of meaning being a Jujutsu Sorcerer might provide, at least for once I have both the time and the energy to do more meaningful things outside of work.

It's still a work in progress. It takes time to unlearn over a decade of bowing one's head to just try to get through and survive. Like many elder Millennials, I have no illusions I'll be able to retire or own property; I'd have needed to be making what I make now ten years ago, at least.

But I have a bit more freedom and peace in my life, and I can use at least some of that to do the things that feed my soul and make life worth living.

So as I wrap up my own personal Nanami Appreciation Week, I want to say thank you, Nanami, for being a symbol for the small ways we can seek our own peace in a world that seems determined to take it from us. It may not all be blue skies and sea breezes, but my life is still markedly improved because of your example. And thank you, Akutami, for writing a character that so many find so relatable, and helping us all feel seen. I saw so very many Nanami cosplayers my first year cosplaying as him, and I know most if not all of them "get it," too. We are not alone.

Even if the rest of the story falls flat for me, Nanami will still shine brightly as an icon of undying hope in a world that often seems all too dark, and for that I will forever be grateful.

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #oversharing #pancake thoughts #nanami appreciation week

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pedropascal-y · 1 year

Text

Across The Pond - Joel Miller x f!Reader

summary: you're a visitor from the UK when the outbreak happens. You're also the newest member of Jackson, Wyoming.

Warnings (WHOLE STORY): MDNI, 18+, Smut, incel-type behavior (not from Joel), minor wound discussion, trauma, murder (infected killing), age gap (you're almost thirty and Joel is 50), lmk if I missed any.

a/n: thank you so much to my bestie, @lovers-liability , for helping me with this story! They have given me many ideas and encouraged me to write this! Much love! - Liv

Wordcount: 2.7k

your mp3 playlist: ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Index:

Chapter 1 - The Walls - 04/14/2023

Chapter 2 - Lovely Meetin Ya - 04/19/2023

Chapter 3 - PTSD - 05/08/2023

The sun beats down on your neck, surely adding to your already present sunburn. It was simply apart of you now, sunburn forever graced your skin since Summer arrived. It took so long for you and Felix to reach any semblance of normal socialization. According to those within the walls of the QZ’s, they were not normal there. Felix walks ahead of you, silently listening for anyone around you. “Why’s it so bloody hot here?” You groan, not used to the constant sunshine and missing the constant cover of clouds back in the UK. Felix rolls his eyes. He’s certainly used to your complaining by now, seeing as you both have been on the road for some near 20 years. Not that you could keep count, your phone continues to track the day and time when it is charged that is. It hadn’t been charged for a few months, or at least it felt that way.

“You really need to stop complaining, hun.” Felix scolds you.

“It’s all I’ve got to do.” You say right back to him, scooting your rifle further onto your shoulder, “it’s not like I can read this sodding map,” you continue, looking at the years of arrows and directions written on to it. You had asked Felix to teach you but he never did, he said there was no use in teaching you when you had him. Everything on it was foreign to you, except the small arrows, those were simple enough to know.

“How your wound?” He asks you, stopping for a moment to check on you.

You lift your shirt slightly, exposing the infected wound that you sustained in a fight with some raider determined to take everything you had. “It’s bloody painful but I can handle. I just hope we find some medicine soon.” You sigh, exhausted physically and mentally. Although, everyone must be exhausted in every meaning of the word. The world had ended and everyone was on guard, especially around other people. Humans were more brutal than the infected in this fallen society. Your wound was more than proof of that.

You were 9 years old when the outbreak happened, spent most of the years afterward inside the airport. You had managed to stay alive after everyone else died by locking yourself in a bathroom and stealing food from the plethora of food establishments. After 17 years, thousands of books read, and all the food scavenged from the airport, you decided it was time to leave. The time spent in the airport taught you basic survival skills, quite a few skills with medical care and aniamal care but reading a map of the United States was still a daunting task.

You try to find your way toward the front door when a sound comes from the starbucks to your left. Freezing, you pull your metal rod from your backpack and head toward the sound. The sound continued as you inched closer, getting louder and more frequent. A man a couple years older than you pops out from behind the coffee bar, “Don’t hurt me!” He yells. You hold your rod in a defensive position and stare at him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, ready to attack at any moment. He puts his hands down slowly and dusts them off. He starts, “Well, I was looking for food, there is none in here by the way.”

“I know.”

“You know?” He asks.

“That Starbucks has been empty for months.”

“How’d you know?”

“I cleared it out months ago. I’ve slowly been making my way through every shop here.” You explain, lowering your rod. Your arm was tired and he seemed nice enough. Granted you haven’t spoken to another human being since your mom died in your arms.

“Hold on, how long have you been here?” He asks, hoping over the counter to stand in front of you. You take a step back, clearing more space between the both of you.

“Since the day it happened.” You explain to him. His face drops and so does your defense.

“Stop, right now!” A man yells, approaching you two on a horse. Felix raises his rifle and aims it at the man. Another man rides in on a horse at our left, “I recommend you lower your weapon right now.” You step closer to Felix, nervous that this was it, you were outnumbered. Two more men arrive on your unprotected side, surrounding you completely. Felix slowly lowers his gun, making eye contact with what he assumes is the leader.

“We’re friendly,” Felix says, sliding the rifle stap onto his shoulder, “We just need a little help, she’s hurt.” You slap his shoulder, upset that he revealed your vulnerability.

“Is she bit?” The first man asks Felix, completely ignoring your existence as a sentient being. Felix shakes his head and lifts your shirt to show the wound, “She was stabbed.” You shove your shirt down and Felix’s hand as quick as your hands would allow. The man on the horse nods at his pack and turns around. The horse rider behind you speaks up, “Get walkin, follow Tommy.” You start walking, cautious of the people surrounding you.

“Fel, why would you tell them I’m injured?” You whisper quietly, eyeing the person to your left. Felix looks at you and back at the leader whose name is Tommy, apparently, “You need help, hun, we need to take the chance that they can help.” You roll your eyes and press a couple fingers into the skin around the wound. As much as you hated to admit it, Felix was right, you weren’t going to survive long with the wound growing more infected. You speak up, “I can tend the wound myself, I just need the supplies,” Tommy keeps his eyes ahead, watching his pathway closely.

After walking for a kilometer or so, Tommy lets out a whistle. “Send out the dog!” He yells. You look up from the ground and there stands massive walls. They look sturdy, strong and able to withstand just about anything. You let out a deep sigh, some relief falling off your shoulders. Loud creaking is heard from the direction of the walls and a dog comes sprinting at you and Felix. You freeze, worried the dog may attack you. That Tommy had led you to your death. The dog stops at Felix’s feet and sniffs him over. Felix waves a hand to you gently, signalling it’s okay. It eases you for a moment. He was always good at that, calming you down when the stress of the situation becomes too much for you. It was a skill he picked up rather quickly after our meeting in the airport.

The dog stops sniffing Felix and heads over to you. “Lift your shirt.” The man on my left yelled from atop his horse. “Excuse me?” You snapped your head toward him.

“The dog needs to get a whiff of your scent to make sure you’re not infected.” He says, impatiently gripping at his horse’s reigns. You nod slowly and lift your shirt for a moment, the dog continues to sniff. You knew you weren’t infected but the idea that perhaps the dog could be wrong was paralyzing you. You take a deep breath in as the dog walks away from you and sits at Tommy’s horse’s feet. “Alright, let’s get you folks some medicine,” Tommy begins the walk toward the gate placed between the walls of the commune.

As the gates closed behind you, a woman came and grabbed the reigns of Tommy and his friend’s horse. “I’m Lucas, nice to meet you.” Tommy’s friend introduces himself, sticking a hand out. You take it, shake it firmly and introduce yourself. “Lovely name, let’s get you over to the medical building.” He smiles and begins walking as Tommy heads away with Felix. Felix looks entirely unsure about splitting up but Tommy assures him there is a strict rule on how many people can be in the medical building at once.

You follow quietly behind Lucas as he explains the buildings and things you pass on your way there. The closer you were to help, the heavier your body felt. “Lucas, how much farther?” You ask, trying your hardest to keep pushing. He looks back at you, noticing your skin getting paler. He slips his arm under yours and leads you into the medical building.

“What’s her problem?” A man in a white coat asks Lucas while aiding your climb to the bed. He shrugged, “She has an infected wound and dehydration, I guess?”

“You guess?” The doctor snarls at him.

“She’s got wicked sunburn all over her body, I felt it reasonable to deduce dehydration.” Lucas explains, holding his hands playfully in a surrender position. The doctor dismisses him and slides an I.V. into your vein. “I’m Dr. Michealson. Are you able to tell me what’s wrong?” The doctor asks as he hooks you up to the I.V.

“Wound, dehydrated and sunburn.” You tell him quietly, enjoying the pillow behind your head. It had been months since you’d actually gotten to lay your head on one and was taking everything in you not to fall asleep. The doctor nods, “Nice accent. Where you from?” You sigh deeply, “The United Kingdom, stranded here while on holiday.”

“Alright, ma’am, we’re gonna get you some painkillers and then you can get some rest while I clean your wounds and get something for that sunburn.” Dr. Michaelson tells you, searching through his medicine cabinet for the proper equipment.

“Grounded? Bloody Hell.” Your mother cursed under her breath, staring at the Arrivals/Departures board. People were running around you, on their way to their gates or desperate to reach their loved ones at the baggage claim. “Sweetie, go sit down with your dad please.” She asks you, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. You turn around and take a seat on the bench next to your father.

“What’s going on, dad?” You ask him, resting your head on his arm. He sighs and hugs you close, “I’ve no clue, my love.” A scream rings out through the airport causing you to jump from your seat. You look over at where the scream came from and spot a man hunched over a woman, tearing into her throat. Another scream rips through the airport, this time, from you. The mans head snaps up toward you and sprints directly at you. Your father shoves you behind him, protecting you from the man with black veins around his face. Blood. Blood spraying from your fathers neck as he’s slammed to the floor from force of the man. Your mother turns around and brings her hand to her mouth, she yanks your arm away from the man devouring your father. Strangers around your father yank the man off of him, too late.

Your mother quickly makes a run in the opposite direction, holding your arm as she goes. “Mom!” You yell, “Mom! Slow down!” She shows no signs of letting up, desperate to get away from that mess. “We left dad!” You scream causing her to come to a full stop.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry we left your dad. We had to, that man was dangerous.” She explains gently. “Perhaps we’ll go back once things calm down, honey.” You feel tears prickling your eyes, you had finally processed what you saw. Your father, dead on the airport floor trying to protect you. The airport grow louder, screams and yelling from every direction. Your mother looks around, clearly stressed, trying to find out where to go. She pulls you toward the bathroom, shoving you both inside and locking the door behind you. Some women come out of the bathroom stalls, curious as to why your mother locked them in the bathroom. “What’s happening?” An american woman asks while running her hands under the water.

“People are killing other people out there.” She holds her hands on the door, pouring her weight into keeping it closed. The women look horrified as the realization settles in. The screaming and yelling finally hitting her ear drums. The american woman whispers, “Do not open that door.”

“I didn’t bloody plan on it!” Your mom curses, throwing her back against it and sitting down. You sit down and finally let go of your suitcase. It had remained glued to your hand since your father had been peacefully sitting on the bench. You slide your backpack off your shoulders and pull out your stuffed animal. You tug your mp3 out of your bag and press play. Nat King Cole’s music fills your ears as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to block out the world falling apart around you.

Your eyes snap open, unsure of where you are. The room is silent, clean, nothing like a medical office. “ ‘Ello?” You call out while sitting up, wincing at the healing wound. You hear shuffling in the building and the door swings open a moment later. Felix’s face is scrunched up in concern, a man follows in behind him and checks my I.V. port. “Felix, where am I?” You ask him, eyeing the doctor suspiciously. “We’re in our home.” He says low, unsure whether to actually call it that. He definitely didn’t feel like he was home, he was so used to sleeping in the same area as you he felt unsure sleeping in a different room. “Home?” You ask, lifting your shirt to check your wound.

“We dressed your wound, we didn’t want to change your clothes without your consent so we put a bandage on to keep it clean.” The doctor tells you, his name slowly coming back to you. “Want to try walking, miss?” He extends a hand out for you to grab onto. Felix rushes over and replaces the doctors hand with his own. You grab onto his arm, ready to use him to lift yourself. Your stomach aches lightly as you straighten out, “Can I go outside?” You ask, “I want to see the place.”

The doctor looks over at Felix, “If you’re up for it, I wont deny you that.” You smile and head out the bedroom door. The more you walk, the better you feel. No longer needing his arm, you hold onto the stair hand rail and walk down them, anxious to see the sunlight. Felix races down the stairs and swings the front door open. The smell of fresh air hits you making your excitement build. “Blimy!” You yell once your feet touch the grass in your yard. People giggle around you, enjoying your excitement. “Why do you sound like thet?” A young girl asks you, tugging at her moms hand. Her mother sighs and kneels down, “Sweetheart that’s not nice to ask.”

“It’s quite alright, I’m from the United Kingdom.” You say and kneel down in front of her. She looks at you, more confused than before. It hits you that she was born after the outbreak and you smile and apologize, “Sorry, It’s a place far from here.” Her mother smiles at you, thankful to you for taking the time and being patient with her daughter.

“Well, I’m Amy!” She stands on her tippy-toes and back down to her heels. You introduce yourself, thickening your accent a bit for the girls enjoyment. That’s when Joel sees you. The new girl, the one who’s not been seen since she was transported to her new home. He had never gotten a good look at you but there you were. Talking gently to a young girl making her smile. He watches as the sun bathes in a golden light, your hair is sweaty and some of it stuck to your forehead and yet he finds you absolutely breath-taking. He sees you talking to Amy and her mother, completely unaware of his staring. You’re far enough away from him for him to not be able to make out your voice but he’s sure it’s beautiful. His eyes scan your body, memorizing every curve and mark visible to his eyes. Drinking you in and enjoying the show, Joel looks over and spots Felix staring at you. Felix’s eyes were full of admiration and love, watching you speak to Amy. Joel felt angry. You were already spoken for, all your beauty was his to enjoy and it wasn’t fair.

thank you for reading this fic! This is part one of many and I would love if you let me know how you feel about it! Sorry there wasn't much Joel in this part, but as MC eases into their community, you'll see more! Again, thank you Lucy for reading and giving me ideas! Also, no, you and Felix are not dating. Simply survival buddies, friends, amigos, but clealry Felix has more than friend feels ;)

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oh-saints · 1 year

Note

ruben going to singer!readers concert and being infatuated with her!!!!!🤭

i like this concept more than i'd like to admit... but i changed the details a bit, i hope you don't mind and like this all the same! xx

comeback

when it's your comeback stage after 2 years, you can always count on rúben for always having your back. and rúben finds another reason to fall in love with you.

rúben dias x singer!reader

word count: 1.7k

note: none but sweet, sweet rúben teheee but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“where are you?”

rúben chuckled at the question you fired as soon as he picked up the phone. you never did that, not saying hello, darling, and he could only assume it was due to the nerves slowly kicking in. after all, tonight was going to be the first time you’d come back to the surface of the showbiz world after 2-year hiatus post the break-up that stunned the world with your ex-boyfriend.

“i’m pulling up, meu anjo,” and he didn’t lie, you’d heard the intangible, muffled words exchanged between your boyfriend and someone presumably the hotel’s valet driver. “miss me much?”

missing rúben would be an understatement. with all the preparation for your first comeback stage, at the BRITs nonetheless, you’d been whisked away for far too long for your liking. you really couldn’t wait to the life you never thought would suit you—cheering him by the side line week in and out.

“you know i always do, my love.”

and you wasn’t lying, too. for there’d been countless timea he spotted your teary eyes over the facetime calls you did during this whole comeback fiasco. his presence the past year had been nothing but the biggest support system you could ever ask—your muse, your pillar altogether—and it felt weird not to be around him. it took everything of you not to succumb to temptation to just fly yourself out to manchester.

if you weren’t being brushed with make-up for final touch-up, you’d tackled rúben in the biggest bear hug you could give him the moment he stepped into the suite room. you’d settled for elongating your arms in the air for him to take, and he, perceptive as ever, brought the fingers he’d missed tangling his with to place small kisses all over the back of your hand.

“hello, my sweet darling,” he said as he kissed the small spot on top of your rose gold band. it didn’t escape him that you’d only worn the small ring he’d given you, their couple ring, on your left while your right was adorned by more numbers of jewelleries. “how are you?”

“the thought of you on your way here is what drives me to survive, honestly,” you grasped back the small pressure he gave your hand in assurance, just what you needed. only rúben knew trivial things like that, and that was why you wanted him more than anything for this monumental moment for you. “i feel like throwing up the whole day.”

which you could, by the way. rúben had seen it first hand back when you released your newest album for the first time, fright and nerves were all over your face—for what the public’s reaction, for your fans’ reaction. for rúben’s reaction, too, especially the fact he knew it by then there’d be a couple of songs directed towards your ex, as well as the beautiful journey that led your to him.

thankfully, he was so relaxed about it because “if it wasn’t because of him, i wouldn’t have had you now.” he considered your album to be your way of honest expression, your freedom of speech, and you just happened to be a good storyteller at that.

“i’ll be the one holding for your hair, meu amor,” he responded to you, as easy as breathing, as he pulled up the stool with his free hand in hope he could ease off the cold sweats breaking underneath your skin. “but your beautiful make-up would be ruined. can you puke that after the red carpet, at least?”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the crowd went insanely wild at the sight of you descending the limousine with rúben helping you on the step.

you’d hinted your new relationship on the last album, but had never answered the accusations of how the lucky guy was. you’d only described him in your lyrics, but had always dodged the direct questions of who it might be. none of them mentioned rúben, though, which somehow gave you mixed reaction because while you were happy no one could catch the hint and thus left you with some space to date around the past year, it was also sad because people didn’t consider rúben into the nomination when the hints were as clear as the sky.

but that wasn’t why he was here, regardless. you needed him to be here—with you, for you, by your side—or else, you’d combust. he was one of the few people that could understand the level of pressure you were currently under, and he was the only one who knew how to help to alleviate them. so, might as well reveal him to the rest of the world while he did so, relieving you both the endless pursuit of hide-and-seek with the paparazzi whenever you go somewhere with him.

you’d heard people screaming in amazement and wonder why and how rúben got there, with you of all people in tow. some women were hysterically shattering your ears with oh my fucking god i cannot fucking believe this, while some journalists were typing ferociously to break the news of the most attractive couple grazing the red carpet.

for the last part, you couldn’t deny that. you both had matched the concept of your attires for the evening. him wearing a satin ultramarine blue suit, the same shade you’d gone crazy about since the last time he wore the colour when representing his country in the world cup; you wearing a satin ultramarine evening dress with a thigh slit form he’d gone crazy about since he last saw you wearing a similar fashion to one of your date nights. with both of your visual supporting the fabrics, it was safe to say you could pride yourself in making it to the best dressed couple award.

but none of it all was enough to conceal the nerves grippling you from the deepest part of your inside. you’d jumped at his touch the moment he landed his hand on the small part of your back gently, and you have never reacted that way to his touch. you’d blinked rapidly every time flashes getting to your eyes, you were also visibly confused about where or who to see every time your name was called.

“breathe, meu anjo,” he pulled you closer to him, hiding the slightly trembling hands by engulfing one of them to his. “you’re doing great. everybody loves you.”

at his words, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sensation of his fingers made a circling motion on top of your hips, you closed your eyes and counted to 10—a trick he taught you before he stepped onto the pitch. at the kiss he placed on top of your head, you opened your vision again to look at him. fuck the people screaming around you.

he sensed your line of sight, so he glanced down at you. your eyes never failed to convey how grateful you were to him, to every step he’d taken with you, and it was one of the things he loves about you. so just to be fair, he said the same words silently through the embrace he gave you, burying his face by crook and nook of yours like you were two pieces of puzzle fit perfectly against each other.

the sequence—of him turning you around before hugging you tightly—made it to become the most popular video and gif on the internet that evening. followed closely by the moment camera caught on rúben’s expression as soon as you did your ending pose on the stage.

he stood from his seat to applaud you before everyone else, eyes never darted anywhere else but you on the stage. when he said you were the best storyteller, he wasn’t downplaying. you had your way with music, with words, with your expression and you dared to bare yourself while doing what you loved the most. you captivated him, as you always do, with those skills you sharpened everyday despite the fact you were naturally born with it.

combined that with the amount of efforts he knew you’d put into, he was visibly so proud while giving you the biggest standing ovation. and he was, because you were one of the most hardworking person he’d come to know of. your work ethic contended his, and it blew him off the waters the first time around, but instead of feeling hurt he’d lost to a woman, rúben respected you a lot more than he already did.

for him, nothing was sexier than a woman who’d earned her place and respect fair and square. nothing was sexier than you being applauded and appreciated by tons of people in the room, and tons more from their TV screen back home, for what you had and you will achieve. and he’d never felt so lucky to have met you, dated you, called you his in the room full of people that could’ve taken his place.

the smile that was etched on his face matched your growing one, and for someone who wanted to take a step back from the limelight that was directed to him due to his relationship with a public figure, rúben surely didn’t intend to shy away from catching the air kiss you blew his way.

the moment you took a seat beside him to join him for the remainder of the prestigious event, rúben couldn’t help but pull your seat so close to him he practically had you in his arms. he immediately kissed the side of your head, the side of your neck, down to your shoulder blade where your off-shoulder dress exposed them for his liking. “told you you’d smash it.”

the words enticed laughter from you because you knew rúben’s always right, but you couldn’t help the jitters gnawing you earlier. with the laughter, rúben felt you relaxed the way he usually found you when you were both inside your best sanctuary called home, despite being in a very public place, doing the biggest PDA you both had ever done during the past year you were together.

“thank you for being here, my love,” you settled back your figure well and comfortably against rúben’s chest, strong and sturdy like his presence in your life. truly your pillar of strength in every way the words might mean. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

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