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#soft angst
venomous-qwille · 1 year
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Shallow Water
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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What about Poly!marauders and reader who needs alone time to recharge. Like she's had a bad day or is stressed but actually needs them to leave her be for an hour rather than physically comfort her (but she still loves them ofc)
Ugh sooo relatable, like in theory I want to be cuddled and spoken to in soft tones but in reality I just need my bed and silence. I feel like the pacing on this was a bit off and I couldn't figure out how to fix it, so sorry about that but thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x reader ♡ 481 words
They pick up on your mood as soon as you come through the door, which is as sweet as it is unfortunate. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” James’ voice is tentative, probing. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” you say shortly. “I’m going to shower.” 
He swivels his head to follow you with his gaze. “Everything okay?”
“Yup.” 
Remus steps out of the kitchen and into your way, brow already furrowed. “You showered just this morning. You need another so soon?”
You know he’s not concerned about your cleanliness habits so much as he’s dancing around what he really wants to ask. You’re acting weird, and you know that, but the last thing you feel like doing right now is explaining why. 
You look up at him, noticing Sirius turning around in the armchair in your periphery. The upset in your chest is growing with each well-meaning, troubled look your boyfriends send each other, each second you spend in their usually enjoyable presence. You don’t like how you feel right now, and you don’t like the angry person it makes you. “I just want to be alone for a bit, okay?” 
“What happened, baby?” Sirius opens his arms in invitation, cocking his head when you don’t accept. Thankfully, he looks more confused than hurt.
“Just a bad day,” you say honestly, doing your best to sound kind as your patience wanes thin. You know they only mean well, but everything is too much right now, and it will be until you get some time to recharge. “Can I just go, please?”
James’ eyes look conflicted behind his glasses, distress written plainly across his features. “I’m sorry you had a bad day, lovely. Isn’t there anything we can do, though?”
You take a deep breath. “Listen, I appreciate that you want to help, but I just need some time to myself. It wasn’t that bad a day, I’m just…I need to calm down, alone.” Sirius is beginning to look even more concerned, but you go on. “I can tell you guys about it later, if you want, but I just really, really don’t feel like it right now.” 
A long-fingered hand settles on your shoulder, thumb rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Take all the time you need, dove,” Remus soothes. “The bedroom’s empty, we can leave you be in there for a while if you’d like.” 
You relax ever so slightly. “That’d be great, thanks.” 
“Hey, just text one of us if you want us to bring dinner in,” Sirius adds. “Hope you feel better, baby.” 
You send them all a smile as you disappear down the hall, closing the bedroom door behind you. You shrug on one of James’ t-shirts, and the sheets smell like all of you as you slip between them. You take some deep breaths, letting the familiar aroma pacify you as slowly, you begin to feel grounded in yourself again. 
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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months
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this is how it continued
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
Lance tries for weeks to make it end.
The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?
And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.
Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.
Lance needs to make it end.
———
He cannot make it end publicly.
It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.
Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.
———
Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”
“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.
“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”
Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.
“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”
She huffs, clearly still miffed.
Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.
A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.
And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.
“You look dreamy.”
Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.
“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”
Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.
“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”
Lance’s mouth goes dry.
I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.
But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.
———
It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)
By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.
“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.
“Good food,” seconds Hunk.
“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.
“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.
Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.
Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.
Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.
What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.
He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.
“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.
“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”
“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”
Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”
He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.
“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”
Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.
Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”
She doesn’t even moo at him.
Lance tries bribery.
“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”
Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.
“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”
“Well, I hope not.”
Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.
“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)
“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).
“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”
Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”
Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”
The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.
“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.
Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”
“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”
“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”
“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”
Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.
“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.
“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”
Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?
An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.
Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”
Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.
“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”
Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.
———
They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.
“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.
“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.
Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”
“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”
He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.
Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.
Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.
“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”
Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”
Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.
“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”
There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.
“Ready?” Keith asks.
“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.
Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.
“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.
He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.
The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.
“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”
Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.
“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”
Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.
“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”
Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”
He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.
Keith makes him feel so warm.
He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.
He wants it so desperately.
He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.
“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.
Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.
———
They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.
Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.
(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)
“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”
“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.
In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.
“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.
“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”
They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.
He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”
Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”
“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.
Lance snorts. Yeah, right.
He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.
Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.
And he starts to cry.
Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.
Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.
Lance is a horrible, horrible person.
This is has to be how it ends.
“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.
“Lance?”
“My brush is — in the wrong place.”
Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”
“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”
He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.
“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”
Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?
“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”
“You’re upset about something.”
“Something stupid.”
“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”
“No, you can’t — I’m not —”
The rest of his strength leaves him.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
Why can’t he make it end.
Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.
“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”
“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.
For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.
A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.
This is how it ends.
He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.
“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.
Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”
“For leading you on.”
That certainly gives him pause.
“Leading me…on?”
“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”
“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”
Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.
“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”
He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.
A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.
“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”
Lance swallows.
“Yes.”
Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”
“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”
“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”
The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”
Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.
“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”
“You mentioned.”
“Two years I lost.”
Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”
“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”
Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.
“Our future?”
Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.
“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”
One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”
Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.
“No wonder your head was all wonky.”
“Yeah.”
“You’d already been with me. For two years.”
“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”
“…That’s a long time, Keith.”
“God, I hope so.”
Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”
“Like glue, darlin’.”
Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.
“Tell me about our future.”
“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”
Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”
His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.
But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.
“What about a little girl with your smile?”
“You got it.”
Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”
“Night, baby.”
This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.
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doodle-pops · 3 months
Text
Turn Back the Sands of Time
Feanor x daughter!reader
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Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon
A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)
Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation
Words: 2.4k
Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.
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“Leaving so early?”
Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.
Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”
Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.
“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”
Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.
Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.
As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.
Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.
With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.
Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.
Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.
His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.
“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.
Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”
“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”
Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”
“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”
Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.
Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.
“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”
The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.
Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.
You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.
The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.
Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?
“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.
Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…
“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.
Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”
A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.
An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.
“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”
“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”
His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.
“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.
“Why?”
Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.
One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.
“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”
“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.
Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”
Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”
“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”
He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”
“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”
“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.
Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.
Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.
“Maitimo?”
“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”
“Would you be willing to meet them?”
“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora
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raiphoria · 11 months
Text
Forced Arranged Marriage | Kamisato Ayato |
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(Y/n) stared dumbfounded as he gazed at the single piece of paper that landed right on top of a scroll that he had spread out.
(E/c) hues slowly drifted upward as their owner stared at the figure that dared to place the piece of paper onto something his father ordered him to go over.
"You want me to marry, who?" (Y/n) asked as he stared at his mother in pure disbelief.
"Kamisato Ayato, the head of the Kamisato clan. What the hell is inside of that thick head of yours, my boy?" (M/n) asked as she released a heavy sigh from her lips.
The (H/c)-haired male raised a brow. "Mother, you do realize that father won't approve of this... Right?" He questioned as he lifted up the slip of paper and placed it off to the side.
(M/n) scoffed in distaste, knowing that her only child, her only son, was correct.
Her husband had vetoed every single idea she had placed upon (Y/n), because the senile of a man she married said he'd rather have a son feel wanted and not feel forced in anything that he didn't want to do.
"Oh, that senile old man doesn't know what he's thinking about!" She exclaimed with venom dripping out of her voice.
(Y/n) scowled lightly at the older woman in front of him. "I might've taken my father's main title, doesn't mean you get to choose what you want. It's my life, mother."
(M/n) scoffed once more as she rolled her eyes. "Well, tough luck because I chose the person that you'll be marrying!" She snapped before leaving the office with a loud bang following in her wake.
(Y/n) sat in his chair with a trembling figure as he picked up the slip of paper that his mother had given him, and stared at it in pure hatred.
"That woman is out of her mind," he grumbled as he crumbled up the arranged marriage contract, and threw it away into a nearby trash bin.
✧˖*°࿐
(Y/n) stared up at the Kamisato Estate that he had to visit the very same day due to a monthly get together he had with the Kamisato siblings.
As the male was about to knock on the door, Thoma popped his head and beamed when he saw (Y/n)'s figure.
"We've been waiting for you, (Y/n)!" Thoma exclaimed as he urged the slightly older male into the estate.
(Y/n) made a sound of denial as he slipped off his shoes, and replaced them with a set of slippers before following Thoma.
Thoma looked over his shoulder at the male. "I'm guessing your mother told you of the arrangement?" He asked.
(Y/n) tiredly raised a brow. "Oh, you knew about it too?" He questioned.
Thoma sent an apologetic smile. "Found out earlier this morning, sadly. Your mother is quite..." The blonde trailed off as he thought of a good word for (Y/n)'s mother.
"Crazy? Senile?" (Y/n) questioned.
"(Y/n)! But yes," Thoma answered.
(Y/n) frowned lightly. "And how did Ayato take it?" He questioned.
Thoma sadly smiled, "He didn't want to accept it, but you know how your mother is."
The (H/c)-haired male tsked quietly. "If only I knew, I would've stopped this."
"We know you would. But, you can't stop everything that comes tumbling into life," Thoma retorted.
Before (Y/n) could say anything, Thoma opened the room where Ayaka and Ayato sat in.
"I've brought him, your majesties!" Thoma states as he stands off near the side.
Ayaka brightened as she watched (Y/n) come and sit across from her and her older brother.
"(Y/n), it's so great to see you again," Ayaka greeted happily.
(Y/n) chuckled lightly, and nodded his head in agreement. "It's nice to see you both as well," he replied.
"I'll go get tea and snacks, be right back," Thoma states before heading off to get the refreshments.
Ayaka then tilted her head as she looked between Ayato and (Y/n).
"How are you two going to make this work?" She asked in a worried tone.
Ayato tiredly sighed as he shook his head.
(Y/n) sent a strained smile at the young female in front of him. "We'll find something to break this off. If we wanted to actually be placed into a marriage with one another, it would've been by our saying...not my mother's," he replied.
Ayaka stared sadly at Ayato, knowing that he too wanted to break off the marriage due to it being forced.
But at the same time, Ayato didn't want to break it.
He didn't want to because...
He was in love with (Y/n).
Ayaka felt sadness go through her veins as she switched her gaze between the men in front of her.
Seeing as she knew her brother well enough, he'd agree with (Y/n)'s choice and probably wait a week or two to officially ask for his hand in marriage.
No force being involved.
Just love being clasped together like it should be.
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
Text
Before Steve could even open his eyes, he could feel the soft breeze brush his cheek. The soft grass beneath him cushioned his back as he took a deep breath of fresh air. He almost didn't want to open his eyes, it was so peaceful just laying here, calm, comforting.
When he did finally open his eyes again he blinked up at a bright blue sky above him, he could see the branches of the trees swaying in the wind. The woods were so quiet that he could hear birds chirping in the distance.
It was perfect, well, almost.
"There you are dingus! What're you doing laying on the ground?"
"Just enjoying a moment of peace before you got here, Robbie."
Robin face was bright as she laughed, her hand reaching down to pull him up. Now standing, Steve wrapped her in a tight hug which she returned wholeheartedly.
"I remember when these woods were a lot scarier."
"Don't worry, Steve, no more monsters."
"Yeah, no more monsters. Hey, is he here?"
His question was answered by another pair of arms wrapping around his middle.
"Stevie! Birdie here has been soooo annoying."
"Oi! I'm a joy to be around!"
Steve giggled watching his old friends bicker, it felt like coming home. Eddie grabbed their hands and lead them through the clearing out to the edge of the woods. The three of them sitting down and watching the sun slowly slip behind the horizon.
"Did you watch them while I was gone, Stevie?"
"Everyday, Eds. Knew you would hate it if I didn't say hello."
Eddie smiled softly wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder while Robin rested her head on his other side.
"Do you think Nance is watching them now?"
"Course she is, Robs, wouldn't miss it."
"How long do you think we'll be waiting for her then?"
"Oh knowing our Nancy it'll be awhile."
"Well, we've waited this long, plus there's so much to show you, Stevie."
"Can't wait, we've got eternity to see it all."
"Yeah, yeah we do."
Steve closed his eyes again as darkness finally fell upon the forest, finally, no more monsters.
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atinycafe · 10 months
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warning: light angst, hurt 2 comfort
“oh. oh no baby— don’t cry, please.”
you push hongjoong away as he gets closer to you. it hurt. the words that just stumbled out of his mouth, an allusion to how clingy you are apparently and how suffocating he feels around you slicing through you like knife on soft butter.
you had been fighting for the smallest thing for some days straight, the slightest actions setting both of you off, throwing icy comments at the other. but this time hongjoong pushed it too far, you had only asked him where he came from after he entered your house at 1am. was he at the studio? it wasn't the first time he arrived this late to your shared apartment but he always texted you about his whereabouts and cute messages, but this time nothing. you had been worrying yourself sick.
so when he snaps at you, the worry and tiredness tugging at your body, making it feel heavy only help the tears come out. you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles as he comes closer. you take a step backwards and you miss the horrified hurt that flashes through his eyes.
"baby, please look at me, let me touch you," his voice cracks as you fail to meet his eyes, settling to look at the soft rug seonghwa had bought you when you and hongjoong both moved in together. he takes another step towards but your hug yourself.
"it's okay, i get it, you need your space, i'll let you breathe," you say to him, turning to walk up the stairs but he grabs your wrist and you don't even push him away when he tugs at you, making you fall directly into his arm as he hugs your head, hiding it deeper in the material of his shirt.
"no baby, i didn't mean it, you know how i get when i'm tired, baby please," he mumbles against your hair and your sobs grow in volume. he can feel your fists tighten against the material and he knows it's been so long since he held you like this. guilt hits him as he notices your broken form, small hiccups in between cries and he's not sure you can even hear him. he tightens his hold, both of you now on the floor, you in between his thighs as he rocks you back and forth.
you both stay in this position for minutes, his back against the couch as he rubs circles on your back, your head muffled in his neck, which is wet from the tears that just evacuated your body. when he feels that your body had calmed down, not shaking from the tears he forced out of you he pulls you back softly.
he grabs your face in the warm palm of his hands, looking at the aftermath, the bloodshot red eyes that peek behind puffy eyelids. the sticky eyelashes that form wet spikes. the streaks of water on your cheeks, like beautifully carved rivers from erosion. the puffiness of your lips, always so big after you cry. his own eyes reflect the hurt he had caused you. so unbelievable that you stand there in front of him on your knees looking so frail and so tired. he passes a shaky finger on one of your prominant eyebag. he knows he's been the cause of the aggravated darkness under your eyes, knowing fully that you have trouble sleeping without him. his heart tugs at him once again, guilt making hard for him to find the right words.
"i," he starts, clearing his throat when you look at him with tired eyes, not knowing what to expect coming from him after days of bickering, "i need you to understand that what i said just now," he grabs at your cheeks with one hand when you unvonluntary turn away, not wanting to meet his eyes as you reminince the comments, "i did not mean one word, not one, baby i need you to believe me, you know how i get when i'm stressed, and i'm not making excuses, i shouldn't act like that, i know it. i never want to hurt you baby, you're so important to me—"
he's cut off when you bring him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a heartwrenching kiss. you kiss him like your life depends on it, like he's your lifeline. and hongjoong feels every tiny bit of emotion you try to convey through the kiss as he tastes the saltiness of your tears. or his he doesn't know, all he knows is that your lips are on his and he's the happiest man alive, so relieved.
he picks you up, walking up the stairs, and you don't even notice he's brought you in your bedroom until he softly puts you down on your mattress, still not separating yourself from his lips. you continue kissing, finally feeling whole after this tiring week.
he pulls pack and he takes another moment to stare at you. holding himself on his right forearm next to your head, his uses his left hand to brush the hair away from your face. the light is low in you room, only coming from the full moon outside of your window, but he swears you've never been this beautiful, eyes shining.
"you're so pretty when you cry."
you both let out small laughs at the absurdity of the comment he just out, breaking the soft atmosphere and he bends to peck you, kissing your front teeth instead.
"no but seriously," he passes a thumb over your eyebrow, "i'm sorry baby, are you still mad at me," when you shake your head sideways he lets out a soft sigh.
"lemme hear your voice pretty, missed it so much," he groans as he drops his head on your neck. instead of crying in the soothing spot he drops small pecks. you clear your throat, dry and tight from all the crying as you try to croak out an answer.
"i love you," you simply whisper, wincing when you hear how gruff you sound and he stills on top of you. he stops his pecks to open his mouth, taking a small part of the skin in his mouth, sucking slightly. he nibbles on red skin, perfect teeth rolling the flesh between them and he finally lets go, dropping one last chaste skin on the skin.
"i love you too. so much."
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sandy-the-glader · 2 months
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Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)
Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”
Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧
Afraid of Me
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*Not my gif*
Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader
Type: Fluff and sorta angsty
Length: 5.4K (a bit long)
Summary: Request above <3
Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn
A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol
I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?
I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.
Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.
I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?
"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.
In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.
"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.
"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.
He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.
I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.
"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.
Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.
This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.
The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?
-
"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.
"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.
Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.
"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.
"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.
"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.
"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.
"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.
She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.
"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.
"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.
"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.
"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.
"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.
"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.
"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.
"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.
"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.
"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.
"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.
"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.
"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.
"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.
"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.
"I understand." She muttered.
"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.
-
I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.
Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.
"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.
"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.
"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.
I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.
"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.
"Hm?" I replied softly.
"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.
I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!
"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."
"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.
She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.
"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.
-
"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.
"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!
"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined
"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.
-
I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.
What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?
"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.
"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.
"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."
I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.
"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.
One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.
I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?
"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.
His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.
Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.
Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.
The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.
What. The. Fuck.
-
It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.
"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.
"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.
Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.
"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."
"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.
"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.
"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.
We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.
I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.
Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.
"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.
“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?
“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.
“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...
“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.
"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.
"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?
I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.
Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.
I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.
"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"
"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.
-
The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.
I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.
A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.
The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another
Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.
And the whole mission went by quickly.
"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.
"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.
"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.
"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.
"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.
"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.
"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.
I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.
"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.
Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.
Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.
I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.
-
It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.
But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?
I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.
"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"
"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"
"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.
"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.
Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.
The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.
He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.
"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.
"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.
"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.
"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.
"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.
“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.
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seaside-writings · 6 months
Text
Prompt #1,167
"I'll choose you every single time,"
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bahbzxxx · 9 months
Text
Sick! Venti X Traveler!Reader (SFW)
(In which his sickness was caused by getting his gnosis taken cause Huh sis that hurt even watching. But HAH he’s getting ✨better✨ while S*gnora is a pile of ashes lolsies)
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There’s only one set of eyes on your mind as you race through the serenitea pot that’s much too big for your liking. If you were focused on your environment, Everything everywhere would make you want to explode into a pile of stardust here and now. Only the thought of not finding him would make you want to do that.
You approach the guestroom. Venti has been staying with you for a little while, recuperating. He will do it once in a while… when he needs a place to hide because the sickness is too hard to cope with alone. Sometimes, his stays are very long…and they seem to get a little longer, every time. He insists that it’s because he enjoys being with you, and he’s really recovering, but by not. But you know He will never feel the same… since…
No…NO.
You push the ice from your mind and how it still feels like frost blooms along your skin, only to penetrate it. It’s sharp.
You can only imagine how sharp it was for him…
With you just…there…doing nothing…
You knock on the side of the door, which is slightly ajar.
You hear a gentle hum, as well as footsteps and slight floorboard creaks from an owner too beautiful and divine for any land in the sea of stars you crossed.
Venti’s viridescent gaze envelops you in a fuzzy warm cloud as he opens the door. He is sleepily rubbing his eyes with his eyebrows furrowed. His expression softens as he sees you…and he takes both your hands in his, and he takes you inside. He can sense your despair…so he closes the door behind him with a gentle pat.
You see that he has no corset on and wears flowy pants that are a touch wrinkled. There are light sleep lines on his face and peaking out of his sleeves…the tell tale signs that he had just been in a deep nap.
“Hmm… you’re done early today…hmm…got any stories for me?”
His voice is so husky…and you can hear his exhaustion.
He holds his hands out to you with a soft smile, sensing you could really use an ear.
The hug you give the archon is almost enough to crush his own lungs.
“Hmph~ oof!”
his unbuttoned shirt is now covered in your tears as you cry into his chest, squeezing into his soft waist as if it is your life-line.
“Mmmm? Mmm…”
His heart breaks when he realizes you’re crying. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing deep circles in your back and nuzzling the top of your head.
He lets out a large sigh, and it feels as if his body is deflating like an anemo slime.
“Windblume…oh, my sweet little Windblume…” he whispers softly into your hair, leaving kisses in between.
He knows why you’re being like this…and truly, he does understand, as much as he’d prefer if you weren’t worrying so much.
“I know. I know…but I’m okay. She’s all gone…shes not gonna hurt us anymore…she’s not gonna hurt you, hurt…hurt me…”
He feels you squeeze him tighter, and he hears your little hiccups. You’re crying harder now…
“Windblume… I’m fine…I’ll be fine…I’m recovering, mein liebling, I promise you…bit by bit…”
He keeps rubbing your back, taking deep, steady breaths. He continues whispering sweet comforts as he holds you for a while, rocking you back and forth as he leans his body against the wall.
After a while of standing, Venti feels a bit weak…he may have recovered a lot, but he still needs a bit more time.
“Come with me, love…”
Gently, he leads you to the fluffy chair he begged you for a while ago from the Cats Tail in the corner. He plops down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back.
“Ahhh…”
The bard opens his eyes, a bit upset that you haven’t joined him yet. He finds you standing there hesitantly, shyly watching over him while your eyes still sparkle with tears.
“Liebling…” He beckons, chuckling to lighten both your moods a little.
He reaches for your arm, and gently pulls you into his lap. He feels your hesitation, knowing that you’re scared even sitting in his lap could make things worse for him. He reassures you that this is oh so far from the truth.
“Uh-uh, no no no…I want you here with me…It’s okay…you make me feel better…”
He takes you in his arms once more, making sure you’re cozy in his lap.
“There we go…all comfy and cozy.”
He kisses your cheeks and your eyelids, as if he’s kissing your tears away.
You can tell he’s still lethargic based on the weight of his kisses…
“Now it’s my turn to suffocate you, hehe…”
He squeezes you to him, letting your head rest on his heart. It beats so steadily and slowly, like a gentle bass drum.
You sit like this for a while, You staring up at him, his chest he offers as your pillow as he takes his time kissing all over your face.
Naturally, despite all the worry you had, and still have, his viridescent gaze is so calming and soothing that you feel yourself growing sleepier and sleepier, much to his satisfaction. But…he sees that you’re still trying to fight it off, even when you’re safe in his arms and you can sleep. All this worrying about him… it made him sad, knowing that you probably were getting much less sleep than he was…
“My little warrior…you’ve been so worried about me…you’ve been so exhausted…you don’t need to hide that from me…” He sighs, moving the hair out of your face that just keeps coming back and hiding your precious eyes from him.
“…you know…I’m not quite used to someone being so concerned for my well-being…you remember that?”
You nod, and he purses his lips.
“I-I know…I know I worry you…” he continues softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“And as much as I want to give you a little bop on the head and tell you to stop that…”
He gives you a bop on the nose, hoping he can get you to giggle for him. Maybe just a crack of a smile even.
“That means…I’d have to stop getting worried with your adventures…I-I know, my Windblume…it may seem like you’ve seen just about everything…can do anything…but there’s always a part of me that’s just terrified…so scared you won’t come back to me…”
He tips your chin back up to him.
“But…you always manage to find a way back… Back to me…don’t you?” He smiles, bringing his nose closer to yours.
“I’ll even bet that you could be cursed by an evil sorceress on your travels, doomed to be an insect forever…”
Your eyes widen. You’d seen much worse, but nobody had done that…
“But…then I’d find a certain pretty little butterfly on my nose as I wake up from an afternoon nap…somehow, somewhere…”
You raise an eyebrow. You suppose you’re the pretty little butterfly in question…
He chuckles deeply, his chest vibrating against you.
“In other words…no matter how much I worry about you…somehow, even if it’s through a single thread of hope…I know that you’ll end up okay…right? Somehow…I really don’t know yet. You still truly amaze me…”
You giggle at the expression on his face.
“And…do I amaze you?”
You nod, a cute little blush on your face.
“Hmm…ok, then…let me amaze you with how, no matter how much you keep worrying about little old me…I’ll always be with you…and I’ll always find my way back to you…even if it’s just a tiny gust of wind…know that it’s me…do you understand, Liebling?”
You just smile, imagining to yourself how that would work. The bard takes that as a yes.
“Besides…you and I both know I’ve seen the rear end of much worse than this…and maybe…just maybe…I’m a little stronger than I’m given credit for…”
There’s a bit of bitterness tinged in his soft expression and tone…but it’s definitely not directed at you. That person is a pile of ashes now.
“Hmm.” He clears his throat. “So…”
He leans in to whisper into your ear. His tone lowers at least an octave.
“Trust me.”
It’s not a question. It’s not a request.
He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes enveloping yours. Your lips are almost touching, and you feel his breath on yours.
“Trust. Me…”
He closes the fragment of space between your lips. It starts out soft and sweet, but his kiss becomes heavier as he puts one arm around the small of your waist to keep your fellow sleepy self from slipping, and the other on your cheek.
He keeps kissing you, breathing the same mantra into you every time your lips part- “Trust me.”
You slip your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.
“I love you…I love you so much, mein liebling…I love you in a way that even a poet as myself couldn’t describe without making an utter fool of himself…”
His cheeks, already rosy, grow redder and redder and hotter everytime your lips touch and twist. You get so lost in this lush little wonderland that you feel you’re going to fall, even in his hold. The sensation startles you, and you panic. You gasp, clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a whimpery and whiny groan.
“Oh…perhaps this isn’t quite the best idea, is it?”
He sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face.
You nod bashfully, an apology forming on your tongue. You slowly begin sliding off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens.
“I had wanted to try and get out of bed today…maybe be useful and show you some of the poetry I had penned…but maybe…just maybe…”
There’s a gleam in his eye. It’s that gleam.
“Hmm…yep. Not today. Back to bed!”
You find yourself slung over his shoulder as he makes way back to the bed. Before you can scold him for obvious reasons, he’s already tossed you onto the bed, and the mattress is springing underneath his weight as he climbs onto the bed himself, looming on top of you.
He laughs as he ensnares you underneath him, your arms crossed and shaking your head. Your face is priceless, and he’s sure the winds of the far flung past, present, and future will never, ever forget it.
He feels a bit dizzy now…to not even his own surprise, so he flops down beside you, making the mattress bounce even more.
“Ahhh…that’s more like it…”
He weaves an arm under your body and around you to pull you closer to him.
“Now…where were we…oh, yes…”
You lean in for another kiss. You’re left hanging for a bit, and you can hear the smirk he’s wearing.
You open your eyes with a pout.
“Oh…don’t be like that…besides…aren’t we forgetting something? Hmm?”
He brings his braid to your face and brushes it against your cheeks and makes it do a little dance on your nose. He bops you on the nose once he’s done with the little dance.
Of course you have to undo his braids. Of course you do.
“There’s my Windblume…”
(is that angsty enough)
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b4ts1e · 8 months
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▀▄▀▄▀▄Their Warm Embrace▄▀▄▀▄▀ (𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝙼𝙲)
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍: 𝚀𝚒𝚞/𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗 𝙾𝚙𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝙲 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 (𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙾𝙻:𝙽&𝙵)
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝:
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Step 2, as the request says- so the main trio are all 14! I'm also going to take the insecurity part a bit further- so warning for that.
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(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)
The sun was beaming down on the town of Golden Grove, most would see this as good- but for one girl in particular, it felt like irony. She was best friends with some of the prettiest people in Golden Grove, at least in her opinion- and yet as the sun shone brightly on the small town she felt...out of place. MC Second, that's the girl silently suffering from her own thoughts on herself- hiding behind a carefully crafted smile that's been almost perfected through her most recent years of life. Middle school was rough, it's when everyone started to develop physically and everything started to change from a happy, colorful, childhood day dream to a dusty gray, worrisome, life hazard. But like I said before- she had almost perfected that sunny sweet smile. Almost. Most people wouldn't be able to see past the blinding light of that smile, those who knew MC best- people such as Tamarack, Qiu, and her mother could see something was wrong. The three were worried for her, after all- even when asked she'd avoid the question and give them that sickeningly sweet smile, her own mask.
It had been around a week since MC had taken time to hang out with her friends outside of walking to and from school back to their homes in the cul-de-sac, or lunch periods- which they've even noticed she had been eating far less then usual, it only made them worry more. Autumn was the first to bring it up without MC around to her mom, seeing if she knew what was making their friend act so differently. Sadly, it was a dead end from her as well- Opal's work had been more demanding lately, resulting in her coming home late into the night.
When he had discussed it briefly with Tamarack, hoping he'd get something from her- but she also knew nothing due to being busy with strings practice. Soon they knew they'd have to take the initive and confront MC personally, and that's where we stand now. Autumn standing right outside his best friend's, and crush's, door- waiting for an answer after knocking.
(𝚀𝚒𝚞'𝚜 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎)
When I received no answer, my worry grew ten-fold. MC wasn't the type to not answer the door, hell they used to rush excitedly to open it- the memory made my cheeks warm slightly but I shook it off quickly. Now was not the time. "Luckily I know where the spare key is kept." I muttered to myself, quickly grabbing it- unlocking and opening the door as quietly as possible. I carefully closed the door behind me, being as quiet as possible as I slowly searched the house for MC. Once the first floor was cleared I headed for the stairs, before hearing a loud thump of something hitting the wall before clattering to the floor. I quickly rushed up to her room, hearing soft crying on the otherside of the door- cautiously I entered the room. The sight broke my heart. Seeing MC balled up in the smallest corner of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest and crying into herself- her room was a mess, old photos from before she moved torn to shreds and her phone on the ground. The screen was shattered, it must have been what hit the wall.
"MC? Hey- sorry for barging in, but... what's wrong?" I ask softly, taking off my blue plaid jacket- putting it on the floor as I slowly approached the bed, her gaze snapping up to meet mine. Her eyes were wide, red and puffy- she had been crying for awhile that much was obvious. "Q-Qiu! Oh- uh-" she said, wiping harshly at her eyes- trying to hide the evidence despite being caught. "I'm fine! Just...saw a sad ad for an animal shelter! Yeah..." she lied through her teeth, avoiding eye contact as I sat on the edge of her bed carefully.
"We both know that's not true. MC...what's really wrong? You've been acting strangly for awhile, but this last week- you've been so closed off from both me and Tamarack. Did we do something wrong, or did someone say something to you?" I asked, ready to track down whoever would dare to hurt my MC- er my best friend. Yeah. Best friend. Her eyes widened drastically before she jumped forward towards me a bit, quickly shutting down one thing I had said. "No! No. You and Tama did nothing wrong I swear- I just...." she cut herself off with a sigh, visibly deflating.
Carefully I reached out, gently grabbing her forearm- rubbing small circles into the skin. She offered me a small smile in return- forced but genuine. "Lately I've been feeling...insecure? I think that's the word for it- but it's not just insecure y'know? Everything seems to be so dull now, I just- I feel so out of place. I mean- it's like I'm on auto pilot, my mind is so foggy..." she explained, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes again. "Foggy?" I asked softly, slowly pulling her closer to me to wrap her in a small hug.
She nodded and leaned into my chest gently- she appeared fragile, ready to shatter at the slightest gust of wind from the wrong direction. "Like I'm viewing myself from outside of my body...I don't know it's hard to explain." she said softly as I gently fiddled with her hair, hoping it'd help her calm down a bit. "I get it, thank you for telling me- but why'd you hide this from me, Leafy, and your mom?" I asked carefully, noticing she stiffened slightly.
"I didn't want to be a burden..." she said softly- had we not been this close, which totally wasn't making my heart pound, I wouldn't of heard her at all. I wasn't going to have that- nobody, not even her, could speak that way about my best friend. "Now you listen here and you listen good, okay? You will never be a burden to any of us MC. You're important to all of us. You're the sturdy bridge that holds me and Tamarack together, and you hold me together as well. Always keeping an eye out for others yet never keeping one out for yourself. You are one of the kindest, beautiful, and self-less people I know MC." I said quickly without thinking, making eye contact with her to ensure she was listening- making sure she knew I meant it to the ends of the earth.
Her cheeks seemed to brighten in a pink hue, eyes fluttering as she stammered for words. I give her a soft smile, pulling her into a proper hug. "You mean the world to me MC. Never let yourself forget that, but if you do? I'll just keep reminding you, over and over again." I whispered softly, holding her tightly to my chest so she couldn't see how red my face or ears had gotten. Though I doubt she didn't hear my heart racing.
She started to shake and shiver before the damn in her eyes finally burst, crying into my sweater- sobs coming from her as she finally let it all out. Softly I smiled, glad to see she was letting it out now- no longer hiding behind that sticky sweet smile she wore so well as I gently traced shapes into the back of her shirt.
"And about those insecurities of yours? I'm going to show you that those kinds of thoughts are so incorrect that they defy all known logic." I say softly, but trying to make her laugh even just a bit- I was successful as she giggled lightly through her choked sobs.
"Oh yeah? How exactly are you gonna do that Autumn?" she asked, looking up from my chest with a smug smile- cheeks still damp from tears. "Well- what are you insecure about?" I ask returning the smug smile full force as my heart fluttered at the use of my nickname. She took a moment before looking down at herself, puffing her lips out a bit with a pout. "My looks mainly...I mean- you and Tama are so pretty and then there's just me. Average MC." she degraded herself- pinching and pulling at her skin. I grab her hand to stop her from contiuing to do so.
"Average?" I started with a chuckle, deciding to focus on being called pretty by my crush later. "MC you are far better than average! You may not see it but I do. Your eyes are so gentle yet whenever you are standing up for Tamarack or settling an arguement- the look of determination gives them this shine I swear the stars wish they could replicate it. And don't get me started on your hair! It's always so pretty! Even when it's a mess because of the humidity of spring or tangled because you just woke up- even then it's so soft and compliments your complextion as well as your stunning eyes!" I rambled, letting out every single detail I've noticed about them- it was natural.
(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)
Qiu continued to go down the list- naming the smallest things about MC and explaining why every part of them was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. They didn't even notice how long they'd been rambling until they heard a small embarassed whimper come from the very female he was praising for earnestly. That's when he saw just how red her face was and their's quickly began to glow an even brighter red. Both incredibly flustered for what Qiu had so shamelessly spewed on about- as if MC was a hyperfixation he just couldn't look away from.
From outside the door, Opal stood and watched the two fumble about- embarassed. She smiled softly, glad that her daughter was feeling better with Autumn's help- and proud of the selection of friends MC had made four years ago when they first moved here. Quietly she retreated to the kitchen, deciding to make something sweet both teens would enjoy to snack on after such an emotionally taxing day.
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𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,678
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ditzybuzzy · 6 months
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I can't stop thinking about Hunk using a warm washcloth to rid the skin on your hands of the grime and blood that has caked itself on after beating countless zombies to death. Your legs hang off the counter you're sitting on, your eyes fixated solely on the wall behind him in shock. He takes the warm washcloth to your trembling hands, which he holds as he stands before you. How he wipes at the blood stained beneath your fingernails. The water running red as he squeezes it out. Knowing without him, you'd be good as dead in the city streets. How you'd be alone again once he leaves.
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Picture is mine ♡
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tav-marcio-leles · 4 months
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A conversation after Moonrise Towers, right before heading out to Rivington. Marcio has a lot on his mind (and in it), but he doesn’t quite cry until he says his worries out loud.
Transcription:
Gale: I do appreciate the affection, but your looming presence worries me. Might I ask what prompted this?
Gale: Marcio… what’s wrong?
Marcio: I don’t know…. I just… I don’t want you to “blow up”.
Marcio: You talk about yourself so poorly—
Gale: Oh, Marcio…
Marcio: —and Mystra so highly. I’m just so scared for you.
Marcio: [cleric] (ilmater): I could always find a way to take the burden of the orb, and—
Gale: Absolutely not!
Gale: I choose my words very carefully. So, what I said that I loved you more than Mystra, I meant it. We’ll find another way—hopefully, with that crown… You helped me see that.
Marcio: Promise me you’ll at least be nicer to yourself? Think less of how to impress others?
Gale: When I said we should speak about unresolved childhood issues, you know I meant that for you, right?
Marcio: Gale.
Gale: sigh I promise.
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olsenmyolsen · 8 months
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Because of You: The Big Day
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master list
dark master list
(Gender Neutral Reader X Wanda Maximoff)
Be sure to read part one - No Powers. Post College AU
Summary: Years have passed since Wanda didn't reveal her feelings. What happens when you're about to get married?
Word Count: 3.5K
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Wanda looks herself over in the mirror.
She smiles. She loves the dress you picked out. She loves the color and how it fits her body. She loves that you told her it took ages to find something so perfect.
Wanda runs her hands over it one more time. Here Wanda was. In her perfect dress because of you.
While you were in the room next door. In your perfect outfit. Because of someone else. For someone else.
Wanda's dress was maroon.
Your outfit was white. It was your wedding day, after all.
On the outside, Wanda was happy for you. On the inside, she was...
Since that day in your suite, Wanda had many opportunities to confess her love to you, but she never could. It felt wrong to do something that could disrupt your happiness, not even when your happiness had breaks of sadness when you and Natasha would have your off moments.
But those moments would be over quicker than Wanda could... well, then Wanda could say she loved you- Loves you.
Regardless. Right there through it all. Through the years. Wanda stuck with you. And now here Wanda was... four years later. Knocking on your door again. This time, to the room where you were getting your hair and makeup done at the venue. "That better not be who I think it is!" A voice loudly exclaimed. A voice Wanda knew to be your fun Aunt Agatha.
"It's not!" Wanda called out through her bandaged-up heart.
The door opened seconds later to see Agatha happy to see Wanda. "Oh, Wanda dear! My my! Look how beautiful you look!" Wanda shyly smiles at the compliments as Agatha takes her hand. Pulling her in and closing the door behind her. Your mother and the rest of your family get up to greet Wanda as Agatha shows her off.
But Wanda only wants to see you.
"Wanda, that dress looks so stunning on you! Much better on you than that Bishop girl. I swear getting her to wear a dress was like pulling teeth." Wanda politely smiled and laughed, knowing Kate's hatred of dresses. "Yes! Well, thank you! Y/N made a terrific choice." Wanda smiled.
"On the dress or that Natasha!" Agatha grips Wanda's arm and laughs like a mad woman. The joke clearly being the funniest to herself, but it gets some good laughs from everyone but Wanda.
When the laughter dies down, Wanda looks around the room, but she doesn't see you. "Where's Y/N-" just as she's about to finish asking, that's when you come out of the attached room.
You hadn't heard Wanda enter, but when your Aunt Agatha was guffawing for some reason, you knew you had to check. And to start counting her drinks.
"What's so fun-"
All eyes turned off of Wanda and onto you. Everyone in the room had already seen your outfit but one person. But now their green eyes were on you.
Only you.
But just as Wanda was memorizing the details. You looked back at her in the maroon dress you fought tooth and nail on. It had to be that dress! No matter what Kate or anyone else said about it. You knew it was Wanda's favorite color. Along with the cut. How it fit. Hell, even the designer. It had to be... it was for Wanda.
You smiled at her. She smiled back.
Your smile was genuine.
Wanda's never reached her eyes.
"Doesn't she look beautiful, Wanda?" Your mother asked with a proud smile. Wanda, still not removing her gaze from you, responded. "She's more than that."
You quickly panned your head down, missing a knowing look from Agatha, and started walking towards Wanda. To hide your cheeks and to greet your best friend. The crowd dispersed as Wanda's arms wrapped around you.
Wanda closed her eyes and gently inhaled. It's a little weird, but today, your smell was just like it was before Natasha. Back when Wanda would claim your hoodies before the rain washed it out. Before you became you and Natasha.
"Thank you for coming." Wanda heard you whisper into her ear. "Of course," Wanda answered like it was an easy choice. You'll never know how much she fought her own feet to get here.
"Why don't we let the girls mingle a bit? There's still time until we gotta force her down the aisle." Agatha's laughter burst through the room. "No, it's okay. I just came to stop by, say my congrats, and see you.." Wanda trailed off but smiled.
You went to speak, but your mom cut you off. "Well, let's take some pictures of the two of you before you get separated later tonight."
"Oh, how right you are."  Wanda thought.
Wanda turned her body and put her arm around your back. Her soft right-hand landing on your hip. "Oh, I'm so happy I get to be here for this." Your mother kept babbling on and on about how beautiful you looked while taking picture after picture. About how pretty Wanda looks. And, of course, about how far the two of you have come as best friends.
"I still remember when Wanda picked you up for the first time after getting her driver's license. Oh lord, I thought I was going to have a heart attack."
You and everyone else laughed as you were leaning up against Wanda, who was sitting on the arm of the couch as your mother continued. "And, of course, the car was red!" She shook her head, and Wanda laughed harder, remembering how much she fought her parents to have that color.
You watched Wanda throw her back, laugh, and smile. It was the first natural, genuine smile of Wanda's in a while. You noticed.
A knock came at the door, signaling it was time for everyone to find their seats. Or, in Wanda's case, stand. She was the maid of honor, after all.
Everyone excitedly squealed and except one. She was going to be the first person to leave the room, but you stopped her. As she stood up, you grabbed her hand and held on tight. "Stay."
Wanda just looked at you as you moved your attention to everyone else. "Get your hugs in now before I'm too busy later!" You joked, smiled, and made it seem like you were on top of the world. Well, wishes, congrats, and, of course, hugs followed for a short time before, one by one, the closest people you considered family were out the door. Agatha and your mother were the last ones out. Leaving you only with Wanda, standing in the middle of the room.
Wanda turned to you.
"Aren't you going to ask me how I'm feeling?" You asked and swallowed as you shined a bright smile, making Wanda chuckle back. "How are you feeling, Y/N?" Wanda avoided eye contact and instead focused on your hands. Watching as your fingers twisted and held one another. "I probably know how you're feeling," Wanda said as she reached out and took your hands in hers—lifting her head to look at you.
"You're about to marry Natasha Romanoff. You're the luckiest woman in the world." Wanda's smile faltered, and you saw the water pooling in the corners of her eyes. But Wanda remained strong. And kept her focus on you.
She couldn't break now. She had chances before. College had come and gone. The years that followed as well. She couldn't say the words to you now. She couldn't.
But fuck. She wanted to.
"God..." Wanda spoke in a hushed tone. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." Wanda's eyes danced across your face. "Wanda..." You went to speak, but Wanda shook her head and removed her hands from yours. "Detka... I'm happy for you." Wanda admitted through a sniffle.
You took a step closer to Wanda and brushed your hands along her face. Careful not to mess up her makeup. "But what about you? Are you happy?" You finally asked the question that's been plaguing your mind for the longest time. You could never pinpoint the correct answer, but deep, deep down, you knew.
"If you're happy. I'm happy." Wanda answered. It might've been her most truthful answer.
You stared at Wanda as she stared back. From Wanda's watery eyes, you saw her flick her gaze from your eyes to your lips before she opened her mouth. "I should go."
You didn't want her to leave. Your feelings for Wanda have ebbed and flowed since that day in the suite, but you remained loyal to Natasha. You truly did love her, but never more than right now, in this moment, did you want Wanda.
But you couldn't. You can't.
You moved your body back and nodded. "Thank you for seeing me, Wanda. Time flies." Wanda nodded even though both of you weren't exactly sure of the true meaning behind that last sentence.
"Natasha's very lucky." Wanda looked at you before she turned around, heading towards the door. You smiled lightly as you turned and headed for the chair in front of the vanity. You heard the door open before: "Y/N?" You turned to look at Wanda, whose back was to you.
"Wanda?"
Wanda opened her mouth to say those three words but stopped herself. "I'm happy to have you in my life."
Just like that, the door was closed, and you collapsed into the chair. Your mind began racing and wondering about Wanda Maximoff.
On the other side of the door. Wanda broke. She moved a hand up to her eyes and cried. She kept her mouth shut, trying to stay muffled as the tears poured. She could feel the mascara run, and all Wanda could think about was how she was going to lose you.
Wanda's tears subsided minutes later when she remembered where she was. Wanda moved herself out from in front of your door and was going to go back to the room she got ready in to freshen up or leave altogether when Natasha came around the corner.
Wearing nothing but white and a smile.
"Hey, Wanda! Wow, you look stunning! Way better than-" That's when she noticed the tears and how quick Wanda's eyes were turning red. "Wanda? What's wrong?!" Natasha, on her wedding day, immediately puts her focus into someone else.
She turns Wanda's head to get a better look. "What's wrong?" Natasha asked again, but Wanda just shook her head. "Nothing." Wanda began to cover. "Just left Y/N, and... it's just.. happening!" Wanda spoke and looked at Natasha's eyes. "The big day!" Wanda put on a fake smile and wore it proudly. She cheered.
"Oh!" Wanda's explanation made Natasha smile. Ever since the first time Natasha met Wanda, it was like there was this wall between them. Natasha always tried her hardest and was always on her best behavior for the Sokovian. Wanda was your best friend, after all. So to see Wanda be so happy for you and Natasha. Today! That made Natasha ecstatic. "Thank you, Wanda!" Natasha carefully pulled Wanda into a hug, making sure no makeup left stains.
"Do you think they're a mess too?" Natasha joked to Wanda, who actually laughed. "No. I'm sure Y/N's fine." Wanda spoke with truth laced between those words. "I'm sure she's fine."
Natasha looked into Wanda's eyes and smiled again. "Thank you for being here. Now, don't worry about rushing outside. It looks like it might rain, and I kinda want to see the person I'm marrying." Natasha looked at Wanda sheepishly. "You know, since we're both non-traditional, I think we don't have to worry about anything." Wanda laughed because Natasha did.
"Well, you know where they are," Wanda spoke. "I'll go get cleaned up." Wanda looked at Natasha one last time. Natasha looked breathtaking to anyone else except her. Wanda excused herself and headed to the room she was in before she saw you.
Natasha watched Wanda disappear down the hall before she turned towards your door. With a few steps and a giant smile, she gingerly knocked on your door and creaked it open. "Y/N?" Natasha poked her head in and called out.
Stunned to hear your fiancées voice, you quickly grabbed tissues sitting on your vanity and began wiping under your eyes. "Shit." You whispered when it was clear on your face that you had been crying. But not normal tears. Tears for someone else. "Y/N?" Natasha called out when you didn't turn to the door. "You can look. It's okay, I promise." Natasha joked, but when you turned, her smile vanished. She quickly shut the door and ran to you. "Y/N babe, what's wrong?"' You shook your head.
A sense of dejavú washed over Natasha. Seeing you and Wanda within minutes apart with eyes full of sadness. "Talk to me." Natasha bent down in front of you. Taking your hands in hers. "Baby.." Natasha looked up to you. "I love you." You say to Natasha when your eyes meet her green ones. "I love you too." She replies so easily, but her smile back isn't quite the same. You sniffle as Natasha holds your hands tighter.
"It might rain.." Natasha starts as she pulls her hands out and starts cleaning your face. When you look up, she quickly wipes her own. "It's supposed to be good luck.. I think." Natasha smiles. "I thought we weren't believing in tradition and crazy theories?" You laugh. "One wouldn't hurt. Just one." Natasha says in a hushed tone.
"Just one." You repeat. "How bad is my face?" You ask in a teasing tone. "It's never been more beautiful." Nat skillfully answers, making you smile. "Now, let me touch it up before we get married." Natasha gets up and turns you around to face yourself. Natasha doesn't ask you why you're crying again.
You're happy.
You're happy...
"We shouldn't take too long." You say. "What are they gonna do, marry someone without us?" Nat smirks. "I mean, Kate and Yelena are here." You say, making Nat stop in her tracks. "Shit. Let's be quick." You both laugh.
"I love you."
_
Wanda looks up at the sky and watches as the white clouds make way for the darker ones. Metaphors huh. Wanda thinks today could be delayed if they wait any longer, but just as she looks down, she sees you. Hand in hand with your fiancée standing at the end of the aisle waiting for the music to start. Your eyes meet just as the music swells and everyone rises and turns. But your eyes remain locked, and Wanda smiles.
Wanda makes a deal with herself right then and there that she'll never speak a word of her feelings towards you. You're about to marry Natasha Romanoff.
Wanda wants nothing but the best for you.
You and Wanda miss the fact that Natasha sees how you two look at one another. Especially now. With a squeeze of your hand, you pull your eyes back to your right. To Natasha. "Ready?" She smiles at you. You nod, and together, you walk down the aisle.
Everyone watches with heart-shaped eyes and smiles, making the act of marriage all the more magical. When you both make it to the end, you each hand your respected bouquets to your respected people. Yelena for Natasha. Wanda for you. You look into Wanda's eyes when your fingers touch, but she looks away from you.
"Dearly beloved..." Natasha's friend Steve Rogers starts regaining your attention.
Natasha takes her hands in yours, but when you look at her, you find her looking where Wanda is looking. She follows her eyesight and finds Pietro giving her sister a sad look.
"Natasha?" You whisper to your fiancée, who has come to terms with the events that will follow.
"Y/N.." She whispers back while Steve keeps going. "I love you," Natasha says with tears in her eyes.
"This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with..." She pulls her hands from you.
"Steve, stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Can we stop??!" His ramblings stop soon enough.
Natasha takes a step back and looks out to everyone who wears horrified looks. "I'm sorry..." Natasha turns to you and your surprised face. "Natasha.." Nat shakes her head. "I'm sorry. But I love you too much for this Y/N." She comes up to you and kisses your cheek. "I love you." Natasha has tears falling down her as she begins walking back up the aisle alone. The tears pull away at the mask she's been keeping up for years. She thought she was crazy at first, but she's not stupid. At the end of the day, your heart would always belong to someone else.
The rows of people stand up and watch your crying fiancée run away. You stand there stunned, and pretty soon, faces start to turn to you, looking for answers. Especially one scary Russian sister. "Go." You feel a push on your back. You turn to look at Wanda, who looks at you like you're crazy. "Go! Go after her!"
"Wan-"
"Go!" Wanda pushes you because of the promise she made. She wants you to go after the former redhead. "Please.." Wanda whispers, and it breaks your heart, but you go. You chase after Natasha as the sky opens up and the rain starts to fall.
"Natasha!" You yell out, unsure of which direction she went. "Natasha!" You try again as the rain is forcing people inside. You hedge your bets and hope she is in the room she got ready this morning.
Wanda watches along with half of the wedding party. You turn the corner, and Wanda decides that right now might be the best time.
Wanda Maximoff heads towards the exit.
"Natasha!" You throw open her door, a little out of breath from running and the oncoming panic attack. You see Natasha sitting on the couch in her room crying, yet she looks at you confused. "Y/N?"
"Hey, I'm here! I'm here." You run to her side and try to comfort her, but she pulls out from your touch. "What are you doing here?" Now it's your turn to look at your fiancée.. ex-fiancée (?), confused. "What do you mean? I'm chasing after my fiancée."
"Y/N..." Natasha gets up. She shakes her head and throws the veil off her frame. "You every right to do that, but don't..."
"Don't what?" Now you get up and watch Natasha. She stops and sighs. "Y/N... I may be your fiancée but.. but I'm not the one you love."
You don't answer, but your ex does it for the both of you. She swallows her tears and walks closer to you. "I'm not the one you love, and that's okay, Y/N. It is. I'm doing this for the both of us."
"Natasha-"
"Go!" She pushes you, making you stumble a bit. "I love you, so please go..."
You nod and begin to walk off but stop when you feel the weight on your ring finger. You look at it and think about the day you and Natasha proposed to each other. You did it because she did it.
You, with all the care in the world, pull it off and walk back to Natasha. "Whoever they are. The person you love after me will make you forget about this. They'll always be there for you. They'll make you stronger, and they'll patch up my mess. I- I did love you, Natasha. I did." It breaks your heart to see Natasha cry like this. You open her hand and place the ring in it. She closes her hand around it and nods. "Goodbye."
Just as you're about to head to the door, a furious blonde Russian begins banging on it, cursing in her native language. Thank goodness you thought to lock it so you could privately talk to Natasha. You look at the former bride, but all she does is point to the window. Knowingly, she'll have to deal with her family. And yours. You silently thank your mother for finding a one-story venue.
You run to the giant human-sized window as the rain pours down, causing cool air to blow into the room when you push them open.
The last time you saw Natasha was right before you jumped out the window. When you turned around just in time to see her taking her ring off.
Your shoes hit the wet grass below. The rain is doing it's best to block your vision, but you still spot Wanda's red car reversing out of a space.
You know it's now or never. So, just like in those romcoms you watched with Wanda all those years ago, you ran. You ran towards her. Towards her car as she kicked it into drive. Passing by all the families' and friends' cars who would sit idle for the next hour before they realized you weren't coming back.
Wanda stopped at the red sign, but due to the rain, she didn't see you running towards her. You were almost to her car when she pushed on the gas pedal again. Now she turned the car away from your direction. She was getting further and further away. Again... However, you pushed yourself. You kept running after her until your legs gave out, and you stumbled.
You lost your pace. You faltered, and when you looked up, her car was about to leave the lot. Turn signal on and everything.
But then she stopped.
The car stopped.
The driver-side door opened, and out Wanda stepped into the pouring rain. Through the water pouring down, you couldn't hear her yelling.
But Wanda started walking to you.
You got up and ran.
Stopping in front of Wanda, you could see the tears hidden by the rain. "What are you doing?!?" She yelled. Demanding an answer. But you looked at her with regret on your face. Regret for wasting time and years.
"I love you." You wrapped your arms around Wanda and held her close—face to face. "I've loved you for years, a-and I regret never doing anything about it—the amount of times I-I wanted to but couldn't. I'm sorry. Take my hand, please. I love you, Wanda Maximoff. I want to be yours."
Wanda didn't say anything as her green eyes look- "Kiss me."
You put your hands to Wanda's face and moved closer until your noses brushed past one another and your lips collided in the rain.
You and Wanda were everything each other dreamed of.
In time, you guys would talk about everything that other person didn't see from today. But right now, at this moment, nothing else was on your mind. Except how madly in love you were.
_
Wanda Maximoff wasn't sure when it happened, but one day, she started looking at rings a little bit differently.
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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valleyross · 4 months
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Author's notes: For @rhetoricalsoapbox for the Smile for Me Secret Santa 2023, it took me awhile to finish this as much as possible after my life been catching up.
I hope that the Russian accent is done justice here and thank you @sfmsecretsanta
"First Christmas with you." (College student! Boris Habit x Genderneutral Reader.)
Summary: You finally visit your boyfriend, Boris Habit in the holiday season after getting busy with other responsibilities in life.
Words: 1,500
Content warning: Abuse coming from family relatives(mentioned)
You knocked on the door of the house that belonged to your boyfriend. Assuming that since it's Christmas, he possibly has the most free time after all, being in college must have taken a lot of energy.
It doesn't take a while for him to open the door to reveal the restless giant green man with the hair silhouette for tree leaves.
“Ouh!! Ets… Ets uuuu!!” Without a moment, Boris pulled you into a tight hug before smashing your lips into his, it's been weeks since you haven't seen him during this break.
“Leet's com insid-e! I know u were com!” Dr. Habit smiles very wide as much as possible whenever it comes to you, despite it being Christmas currently, he doesn't seem to over-decorate it either.
Over the observations, there are his finished paintings hanging over the walls that are intentionally for the secret project he rambles on multiple occasions with you.
Dentistry isn't his choice, as if his parents can let him breathe for once. It doesn't make it any better that he's nowhere easy to comprehend his human needs.
Coupled with unfinished paper pieces over the ground, an incomplete living paper has the head shape of a pentagon.
“Remember zecret project em doing?” Boris asked playfully as the rest of the papers were scattered around the corners of the room, the paperwork in front of the couch, and the materials placed on the coffee table.
“There zhe esss!” Boris introduced the unfinished project enthusiastically in front of you.
“Ah! Incredible ” You were amazed at his extraordinary skills so far after the progress that's being made.
“Esnt Carla beautefull?" Boris fidgeted his fingers through the paper pieces he made that were intact with the rest of the body.
“Yes, she is!” You caressed the top of her head while observing the texture and Boris himself as there's ongoing worry building up in your stomach.
“Steel been vorkeeng on zhe rest uf zhem! “ Boris rambles at the speed of light, while you're catching up with it.
“Zhey buh-ries frooom atteeeen-dants, to! Zher lik my beeebies!!” He's at the high stakes of energy that he's going to implode at any moment.
“Does this mean that I also raise them?” You raised your eyebrow curiously, considering that it feels like this is how both of you start a family earlier 
“Of course, wee can do et togedzher!” Boris chuckles faintly, as a result, he's getting more restless as this conversation goes by.
Meanwhile, It shriveled you up at the condition of his place where you noticed that he didn't look content. Under those circumstances, in this case, this looks recent with the way his plans have gotten in this state. 
You turn around to notice the fragments of his broken cup over the floor, before scanning at the rest, additionally, you can also see the many plates at the sink.
Although it may be true that other responsibilities exist in life, besides needing to get a part-time job just to pay enough money for survival.
“Es dhere somedheng I said wrong?” Boris asked concerningly after the long silence. 
“Are you okay?” You're fidgeting your fingers, noticing the tense eyes of your boyfriend who has been looking for every single thing he needs.
“Uh yes, Em owkay!” Boris replied shakily, something restraining him from responding properly.
“Boris, You trust me right?” You are reaching into his cheeks to caress them, your breath getting heavier at every moment you take.
Boris was shocked for a second, before looking down, just trying to come up with anything.
“Why didn't you say how bad it was?” You were noticing how severe his state is becoming.
He froze in place, his eyes widened from how he was able to make sense of this situation.
On the contrary, this is something he isn't always used to…  Not even a one bit when he started dating you from the hassles back in college to this.
Boris wanted to make this work for once, he already failed at anything else and he's not going to screw this one either.
“Doont knov eef u are fene seeng me leke dis.” There have been overlapping thoughts through his mind, he wonders what you are going to feel about it.
“Does eveeerydhing matter anymore if em a boorden to you?” The tears are forming in his eyes, he's having a difficult time with his thought process on how to unfold them.
“Boris, no!” You leaned close to him before his body crumbled down right in front of you.
“Even if em a faeluuure? Everytheeng I do is uuuseless!” Boris started hyperventilating, furthermore, the emotional strain that's been haunting him everywhere he goes, every time he's almost as fine as he claims himself to be.
“I-I'll neeevor beee able to make theem happy! Everything I do is just a waste of teeme! They're not happy!” He brought the dead flower from his lab coat, hugging it with his palms towards his cheek.
“I don't theenk I'll do same to uuuhhh…” Boris sinks to his knees, a couple of thoughts are coming through his mind at the speed of light, the heaviness of the trauma, and the fact that he felt that he wouldn't be able to find solace in anything.
“Boris, Listen to me.” You circulate his shoulders to ease him down for a bit.
“You still matter...” Your eyebrows furrowed with your fingers intertwined into his.
“H-Hooow cooomes? It's noot leeke I chose dhis…”
“Everything about you is admirable, nothing can change that.” You are caressing his auburn hair curls that are wrapping around your fingers although he hasn't taken a shower, you don't care about it at all.
“Whatever your parents say doesn't define you. Boris!” Your eyes began soaking further, before planting a kiss over his forehead.
Boris suddenly hugs you tighter, not to the point of suffocation, in addition to this… He never gets to feel something new whenever it comes to vulnerability.
“There there, love.” You continue caressing his hair, holding him close that you both aren't going to let go for a long period.
“Pleease doon't leeave mee…” Your lover sniffles, he knows that you are all he has, 
“Shhh, I'll stay here as long as you want…” It's been about an hour and a half together with the comfort that's being wrapped between you and Boris, Only the beautiful ambiance and the sweet melody you whisper as he listens.
You shifted your focus into your boyfriend's eyes as he's finally relaxed after the intense breakdown, Boris was almost embarrassed to show all of it but you didn't mind it in the slightest.
“Do you want hot cocoa with me?” You raised your head with curiosity before Boris formed a smile.
He agreed that hot cocoa causes him to feel warm inside whenever it comes to the sensation. It's an opportunity for both of you for longing intimacy.
-----------
You were lying down on Boris’ chest while resting on the couch together, he was almost going to fall asleep from the amount of bliss he felt just being with you.
It's been intimate time between them, just drinking hot cocoa together.
“Lof?” Boris caressed the hair of his lover,
“Yes?” You glance at him curiously.
Boris sighed before opening his mouth.
“It's that when it's between us.” He gives a genuine smile, keeping that contact steady.
“Someedhing fulfeelled mee more dhan before.”
“Oh…” You shudder swiftly 
“Soory, am foorward with zheese?”
“Nope.” You shake your head. “Well, I suppose that this special day must been this nostalgic for you.
“True enoough,  et's something I've been lackeng in a wheele.” Boris takes a sip from his hot cocoa. 
“I vanna espreess eveerytheng hov muuuch you bloomed my garden from the moment I saw you.” He leaned closer to you.
“Oh, Boris…” You were taken back by how passionate he gets, no matter how much he pulls this, it's always endearing to see him worship you.
“Ur only peerson vho has faeth en me, I make sure to neeever leet you down”
“There's been seeds being planted on how bright your future would become.” You grinned up at him. 
“You mean so much to me, I'll never leave you alone… Boris Habit.” You hold him closer before nuzzling up to him.
Boris almost tears up from hearing almost every single thing you say as both of you are spending the night that makes his Christmas bring him joy. He's grateful for meeting you from the college, over time he grew to show something that Boris hasn't done to others.
He's formerly someone familiar with the certain emotions that pent him up but also reveals the majority of the ‘ugliest’ side that he's not comfortable with at first.
He's happy to love someone that will cherish him for who he is, rather than being dictated to by his parents to prevent him from making any change in his life cycle, new flowers growing in the fields.
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p-a-stelblood · 2 years
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♡Kawaii Anime♡
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Idk♡
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