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amor-immortalem · 3 years

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Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever Ch.2

Warning: abuse apologizing, mention of past physical abuse, implied manipulation, abuse minimizing

Taglist: @mediocredetective

“Here you go Solomon,” Asmo says as they pass the phone to the sorcerer. “Arella says she wants to ask you something. I’ll be back.” And with that the Avatar of Lust took his leave, leaving their older brother with a look of confusion as Solomon moved away from where he literally had the second-born tied down so he couldn’t move. He turned his lapis gaze over to his younger brother who merely shrugged as he went back to chowing down on a bag of crisps he had raided from Purgatory Hall’s pantry.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything,” Beel said with a mouthful of crisps. “I’m going to head home too though. Dinner’s starting soon. Do you want me to try to save you some? It’s Lucifer’s night to cook.”

“Nah... it’ll just go to waste. Lucifer’s still probably mad at me so I doubt he’ll let me inta the house for the rest of the night.” The Avatar of Greed chuckles sadly. “So don’t worry. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

The Avatar of Gluttony nodded as he left and Mammon impatiently waited for Solomon to come back.

“I’d offer you something to eat or drink but it looks like you’re... a little tied up at the moment.” Simeon tried to break the tension in the room with the unhappy demon.

“Why did ya have ta go ‘n call Arella like that, huh, Simeon?” Mammon asks, eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I told y’all I was fine, my arm was just a bit busted was all. I woulda survived without her knowin’ ‘n now she’s gonna go off the deep end thinkin’ I need ta be saved or some shit like that when I can take care of myself.”

“She loves you, Mammon. All she wants is for you to be happy and safe. You know that.”

“All of ya are makin’ it sound like Lucifer just straight up broke my elbow for shits ‘n giggles when it was an accident. I’m the one who didn’t wait for him ta let go a me before I started pullin’ ta get away, so really it’s my own fault that it’s broken.”

“Yeah, but things like this seem to happen between you and Lucifer a lot- and I mean a lot a lot.”

“Yeah but... he loves me though. He only does things like this because he loves me. I’m his favorite and he just wants me to learn my lesson is all. If I wouldn’t screw up all the time this wouldn’t happen as often- o-or at all even. ‘Sides it ain’t like I’m the only one who ever gets punished. The rest of my brothers all get their punishments too when they screw up. It’s all fair.”

Simeon gave the demon a doubtful look. “You seem to be the only one who gets any physical punishment though...”

“Yeah, but that’s only cuz I’m a blockhead who just doesn’t learn his lesson. I mean the physical stuff only started within the last century- that's when my dear ol’ brother got fed up with wastin’ his breath. You’d think I’d learn by now huh?”

The angel tries to find the words to say what he’s thinking but he can’t, so he just goes about it in a different approach. No wonder Arella worries about him like this. His brother has him completely manipulated into thinking this is acceptable.

“You... you can’t seriously think that, right?” Simeon asks incredulously. “Mammon, this isn’t okay. Regardless of whether your brother actually loves you or not,

“He does,” Mammon interjects.

“He shouldn’t constantly be putting his hands on you for even the slightest of transgressions- especially if it’s due to something you can’t help, like your sin.”

“Of course, it is. C’mon, Simeon, who’re ya kidding? We’re demons! Our morals are different from those of the Celestial Realm or the Human Realm.... That’s just the way things are down here. Do ya gotta like it? No, but y’all gotta accept it.”

“Don’t you think you sound a little... how do I put this... brainwashed?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well... I just think maybe you’re so blinded by your love for your brothers that-”

“Hi! I’m back!” Asmo called as they lugged a heavy suitcase behind them. They plopped down on the couch. “Miss me?”

The pair just sort of regarded the strawberry blonde-haired demon as they sat next to their older brother.

“Goin’ somewhere, Asmo?” Mammon asks as he eyes the suitcase, “Wait a minute is that my suitcase?”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m not going anywhere. You are.”

“Huh? I’m not going anywh-”

“Well it was nice talking to you, Arella. I’ll untie him now so you can summon him. We’ll talk in a few weeks, yes?” Solomon promptly reentered the space, “Perfect- oh look Asmo’s back too. I’ll let you go then.” The call ended as Solomon undid the spell binding Mammon to the couch with a wave of his hand.

As Mammon stood, a portal opened up in front of him. “I’m not goin’ through that.”

“And why not?” the angel asks. “I thought you’d be delighted to have the opportunity to go stay with your human for two weeks.”

“Alone. Might I add.” Asmo smirks with a waggle of their brows.

“Shut up, Asmo!” The Avatar of Greed turned a shade of bright red, “Of course, I know we’d be alone! Who else would be there? But....”

“Are you scared Lucifer will be upset that you’re up there without his permission, Mammon?” Simeon asks.

“No! I ain’t scared of Lucifer! What gave you that idea, huh?!”

“You do realize you’re being summoned right? You don’t get much of a choice in that matter. Now, get going before you end up getting pulled through and hurt your arm again.” The sorcerer takes Mammon’s suitcase and tosses it through the portal, leaving the demon to squawk indignantly as he chased after it.

“You suck, Solomon!” Is all that could be heard from the other side of the portal as it started to close and the silver-haired human only rolled his eyes, chuckling amusedly.

“Have fun in the mortal realm, Mammon!”

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The one thing Mammon hates about being summoned is how nearly every time he goes through a portal, he nearly slams into whoever it is that summoned him if they’re standing in his way which is exactly the situation he finds himself in with Arella right now- not a good look for his image, it's very ‘uncool’.

“Hey,” Arella smiles as she wraps her arms around him once they come to a stop.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I’m mad at ya.” The demon says with a deep scowl on his face.

“I’m sure you are. How’s your arm feeling? Does it still hurt?”

“I’m fine, Arella. Stop treating me like a kid.”

“Huh?” Arella asks, confused as she removes her arm from around him. “I’m... sorry?”

“Ya should be,” Mammon hums as he turns his back to her. “I told ya everything was fine. Ya didn’t hafta go ‘n do all this. I can take care of myself when it comes to my brothers so I don’t get why you think ya gotta get involved every time I get in a situation with one of ‘em.”

“I just thought... well I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re right.” She walked away headed to where the kitchen was to clean up the mess that had been left from the cup of tea she’d had before all of this.

“Huh? Whaddya mean by that?” The demon followed after her looking to continue their small spat.

“Exactly what it sounds like. You’re right. You can take care of yourself when it comes to your brothers and there really is no need for me to insert myself into the situation but I love you and I hate seeing it happen and not doing anything to defend you so... I’m sorry. If it offends you that much, I won’t do it again.” She says as she washes her cup and the other dishes she had left. “Do you want me to send you home after dinner?”

“I.... no- but not because I don’t want to go back and deal with Lucifer...” The white-haired demon takes a seat at the kitchen island resting his chin on his arms. “I only wanna stay cuz I missed ya...”

“I missed you too...” She rubbed his back as she leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m treating you like a kid... if you want to stay the whole time you can treat it... like a holiday of sorts.”

“Where are we anyway? I know ya said ya were sellin’ yer old house...but the air smells different. How far away did ya move? Are we still in England?”

“About that...” She looked away sheepishly, “I kind of told you a little white lie... I sold that house about a month or two ago. What I’ve been doing since then is house-hunting and all the things that go with buying a house in another country... We’re in Germany- Berlin, exactly.”

“You lied? Oh, you’re horrible.” The demon feigns a look of hurt as the human laughs. “But seriously, baby, why would ya move so far away?”

She shrugged. “Wanted a change. I can speak German so why not- it's not like I have any family to miss back in England, anyway.”

He nods at that. “So no one knows where we are?”

“Nope,”

“Not even my brothers?”

“Not even your brothers.” She smiled. “I told you: if we wanted to, we could disappear up here and no one would ever know.” She cupped his face in between her hands. “You don’t have to go back home if you don’t want to...”

“I don’t have to decide right now, do I? You won’t leave if I want to go home, right?”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to choose between me or the Devildom- there's a lot to give up down there. You can think about it while we’re up here for the next two or three weeks and if you want to go home after then, then I will still be with you, okay? I just want to give you options.”

He nodded as he moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Doll.”

“Anytime, Baby.” She hummed.

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Find more on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #mammon angst #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me oc #arella

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tomthesoftie · 3 years

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let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears

masterlist prompt list add yourself on my taglist!

In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos @chloecreatesfictions-archive @dpaccione @cuddlykoala101 @tomshufflepuff @lmaotshollandd if you would like to be removed from the taglist, please send to my inbox

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imjustwritingg · 3 years

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braced myself for the goodbye

Hi friends! This is an 8x11 speculation fic as requested. All the talk of that amazing promo and the concerns of a possible Upstead breakup took me down a seriously deep rabbit hole of feelings and angsty goodness that became this one shot. Title is lyrics from the song “Mine” by Taylor Swift. Enjoy lovelies!

TW // mentions of domestic violence

Also on AO3 and FFNet!

Braced myself for the goodbye,

'Cause that's all I've ever known

Then you took me by surprise

You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

Twelve hours ago Hailey’s morning had started out so wonderfully. She had been half asleep, anticipating the sounding of her alarm to wake her for the day, but instead she was woken up with Jay’s lips ghosting over her skin. It was dreamlike, a glimpse of what heaven could be. She had smiled uncontrollably, wiggled against him, and when she rolled in his arms to face him she was greeted with a grin and his sleepy voice saying good morning.

“A very good morning indeed. Not a bad way to get woken up. Who’d have thought that elite Detective Jay Halstead would be such a sap? And a cuddler too.”

He had rolled his eyes at her, but there was a playful smirk on his face and he just pulled her closer against him. His arms wound under and around her and his hands pressed against her back. The feel of his fingers had sent goosebumps shooting out all across her skin.

“I think you love it,” he told her as he casted quick glances between her lips and her eyes.

“I do love it,” she said while moving her hand up his chest and around his neck to the back of his head.

He hummed out a response and leaned his head down closer so that little space was left between them.

“I love you,” he confessed.

He hadn’t given her a chance to respond and instead pressed his lips against hers for several moments, swallowing the moan that escaped her and not waiting or expecting her to say the words back.

The moment he said them and his lips were on hers, Hailey felt like she was floating. She knew she loved him, she had for a while, and a part of her knew he loved her too, but hearing the words as they fell from his lips was something she didn’t think she’d ever forget. It put an ache in her chest that was so good she wished she could bottle it up and keep it for forever.

The moment was cut short when they’d been interrupted yet again by a ringing phone and before she could say the words back that she so desperately wanted to say to him, they had to get dressed and head into the district. What Hailey hadn’t anticipated was the case they’re pulled into wrecking her beyond comprehension.

What was supposed to be a simple wellness check quickly turned into a search for a missing family and an ugly domestic violence case that Intelligence took the lead on. And in the process of connecting the dots and weeding through the lies of an abuser, Hailey was forced to remember her past and the monster her own father had been while she was growing up. The monster he could still be.

By the time the case is over and the last of the files have been closed, Hailey is completely deteriorated from the workday. She just wants to crawl into bed and try to forget, but when she enters her apartment she quickly spots a hoodie hanging over the back of her couch that doesn’t belong to her. Suddenly her heart aches again as she thinks about her partner.

Jay had been an anchor for her throughout the day just as he’d always been since they became partners. He kept her grounded without being overbearing, letting her know he was there for her and by her side. But as the day went on Hailey reflects on the abuse she doesn’t think she’ll ever really fully move on from.

Weekends that were supposed to be spent having fun with her brothers and being normal kids were instead spent running to the nearest sibling’s bedroom and locking the door when her father had drunk one too many beers.

His voice was always so loud when he was yelling that Hailey could swear the whole house would shake. He’d start downstairs, shouting at her mother, knocking his fists into her first, and when she’d sink to the floor or pass out he’d go in search of Hailey or one of her brothers.

There are moments she can remember so vividly hiding in so many places to avoid her father’s hands or whatever belt or cord he had been able to find. The back of a closet, the bathtub, under the dining room table, the shed out back when it wasn’t too cold. She’d spent so much of her childhood hiding and fearing her father, watching the relationship between him and her mother zig zag and spiral, that most days Hailey’s not sure how she turned out to be even remotely sane or normal by any means. She remembers how he’d always apologize to them all, tell them he loved them. Like loving someone and beating the crap out of them were synonymous and one in the same.

She tries so hard to not compare her life with her father to her relationship with Jay, but she can’t help it. She knows deep down that her partner would never think of hurting her the way her father has, but after the day she’s had and the too much time she’s had to think, she’s also unsure if she can love him back the way he deserves. She wonders if maybe it was a sign from the universe when they were interrupted earlier in the morning before she could say the words back to him that he so easily could say to her.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to say them.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to love him.

There’s a knock that breaks Hailey out of her thoughts and she makes her way to the door. She glances through the peephole and sighs.

Of course it’s him. Who else would it be?

She considers not opening it, but then thinks of what she has to do and the conversation that needs to be had so she opens the door and forces out a smile as she looks up at her partner.

“Hey,” Hailey nearly whispers.

“Hi,” he says back with a half-smile.

She lets him enter the apartment and closes the door behind him. She makes her way towards the kitchen, leans back against the island, and then nods to the couch.

“You left your hoodie here,” she tells him.

He glances to the couch and looks back at her, gives a short nod. “I didn’t come here for my hoodie. I wanted to see you, make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m...dealing,” she says slowly, as if trying to find the right words to say.

He waits for her to start and steer the conversation, but when she doesn’t he takes a small step towards her.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks even though it’s the last thing he wants to do.

She shakes her head, but it doesn’t give him the relief it should. Not when she’s looking at him the way she is, as if she’s about to give him the worst news of his life.

“We should talk. I’m sure you have questions,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Maybe, but you know you don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, Hailey. I’m not gonna push you,” he tells her.

She does know, but she also knows she has to do this while she still has some nerve left.

“I need to tell you this. I need you to understand.”

He nods and gestures to the couch. “You wanna sit?”

She shakes her head and he shuffles his weight to his other foot as he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets. He can tell she needs a moment. He’s always been able to read her, give her exactly what she needs without saying a word, so he waits until she takes a deep breath and then she speaks.

“I don’t think I ever really learned relationships,” she starts, but her eyes don’t meet his as if she’s somewhere else entirely and not standing there in the same room with him.

“My parents didn’t exactly give me and my brothers the greatest example of what one should look like. My dad - he used us all like his own personal punching bags. And my mom, she took it. She just took it every single time and I never really understood it when I was little. Five year old me couldn’t understand why daddy was hurting mommy. It got to a point where it was just normal, expected. And as I got older, I still didn’t ever fully understand it. I think maybe it just happened so much that it was burned into my mom’s brain that, that’s what love is. That it’s okay if someone hurts you as long as they say they love you and they’re sorry after.

“I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve loved them, or tried to anyway, but relationships haven’t ever been easy for me. It’s like a what-if game constantly playing in my head, like a voice in the back of my mind that I can’t ever silence completely. And it gets loud. It gets so loud sometimes. The second-guessing and the wondering if there’s an ulterior motive for things someone says or does. It’s something I’ve never been able to turn off. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to turn off. Like it’s burned into my brain too. There are parts of me that are just unfixable. Parts of me that I don’t think will ever fully heal.”

There’s a look on her face that Jay knows all too well and he braces himself for what’s about to come. He watches Hailey lean back against the island and she tightens her arms across her chest almost defensively. He doesn’t say a word though, just gives her a nod telling her to continue and waits for it.

“Being your partner is easy for me, Jay. Being your friend is easy. And I know we didn’t ever label whatever it is that we’ve been doing, but I don’t really know how to be a girlfriend. Especially a girlfriend who works with their boyfriend. I’ve tried it before and I don’t know how to be that person. Maybe it’s because of my parents. Maybe I just don’t really know how to love either and that’s not fair to you. Even with Garrett. I know I loved him, but I just – I didn’t know how to. And in the end he paid the ultimate price for loving me.”

Hailey pauses, takes a breath, and then continues. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Jay. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been so good to me and I like being with you, but I – I don’t...”

She looks away from him as she blows out another breath, unable to finish her sentence, but he does it for her.

“You want it to be over,” he says.

The dejected tone of his voice sends a pang through her chest and she nods her head slowly as she meets his eyes again. There’s a sadness in them she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before.

“I think that might be best for both of us. I shouldn’t have – I thought I could do it. That night in the bar when I told you about the job offer and you kissed me? I wanted that for so long. I wanted you. But I’m beginning to realize that just because you want something it doesn’t mean you should have it. And I would never forgive myself if I hurt you down the road by saying or doing something stupid in the heat of the moment. Not after everything you’ve already been through. You don’t deserve that and you shouldn’t have to live with that possibility or my issues. You shouldn’t want that. So, yeah. I want it to be over for both of our sakes.”

She’s not sure what he’s thinking and it’s the first time in a long time that she can’t read him, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want to do this, wishes it could be different. That she could be different. But it’s not and she’s not, and she’s afraid that if it doesn’t happen now then both of them will just hurt each other later. So she does the hard part for the both of them, ripping it off clean like a Band-Aid, and ignoring the sting it leaves.

She’s not sure how much time passes as she watches him and waits for him to speak. She can tell he’s thinking too hard, digesting what she’s told him, and the longer he’s silent the more she thinks that her decision to end it all right here is the right call, but then he surprises her when he looks up at her with glistening eyes full of love and compassion and understanding. Everything that he is. She’s not sure she deserves it.

Jay shakes his head slowly as he looks at her from a few feet away. He’s kept his distance, not wanting to make her feel cornered or not in control of the conversation and situation, but then he takes a few steps toward. His eyes burn into hers and she feels her heart pounding relentlessly inside her chest.

“You said you don’t know how to love, but I don’t think that’s true. Hailey, if it weren’t for you being my partner, for your friendship, your love for me - platonic or otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now. I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”

His voice is low, almost guttural, as if he’s lost his voice and it’s too painful to speak, but he keeps his eyes on her and goes on still.

“Hailey, you’re the person who loved me enough to make me realize I needed therapy. You’re the one who loved me even after knowing about my own past and the demons I have. My PTSD, what happened with Erin, my dad. You showed me every time you’ve stuck by my side and trusted my decisions even when others didn’t. You showed me when you chose to stay here instead of taking that job in New York. No one has ever chosen me over anything like that before. Not even my own brother. You have showed me countless times you love me without ever saying the words. But that word means something different to you because of your family and I get it. I don’t need to hear you say you love me to know that you do.”

He takes slow, hesitant steps towards her until he’s standing in front of her within arm’s reach to still give her, her space. He looks at her with tears still in his eyes, trying to keep them from falling, as he watches her own roll down her cheeks now.

“I’m not going anywhere Hailey. I know things haven’t been easy for you, they haven’t been fair or made sense. Life hasn’t been kind to you, but that doesn’t make me care about you or love you any less than I do, and it doesn’t make you unworthy of receiving that love either. The things you do for the people in your life, complete strangers even. You have the biggest and most beautiful heart of anyone I’ve ever known.

“You deserve this Hailey. We both do. I know you’re scared, I am too, but not because of your past. I’m scared of losing you. We don’t need to define anything or put a label on it if that’s what you wanna do. Girlfriend might be a bit of a weak term for you anyway when you’re so much more than that. We can take it one day at a time, take things as they come, but I want this. I want you. I wanna be with you.”

“Jay, I - “

“If you really want it to be over between us then I’ll respect your decision and I’ll walk out the door and we’ll never talk about it again. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you how it’s supposed to be, that love can be good. That it is good. That it doesn’t come with conditions or ulterior motives. That you deserve every good thing in this world. And I’ll be here to remind you when you think you don’t.”

He can see the wheels turning in her head, but her eyes are everywhere except on him now and he can’t quite read the look on her face, and it scares him.

There’s a fleeting moment where he knows he won’t come back from this, that she was it for him, but he won’t push her. He won’t do that to her. And when she finally meets his eyes again, but doesn’t say a word, he ignores the crushing of his chest and the sinking of his stomach, and takes a step forward to close the distance between them.

He knows what this is now.

Why she mentioned his forgotten hoodie. Why she didn’t wanna sit. Why she’s kept her distance.

She wasn’t intending for him to stay.

He lifts an arm slowly, not wanting to scare her, and rests the palm of his hand against the side of her face. He brushes his thumb over her cheek like he has a dozen times before now, realizing a second later that this might be the last and it sends an ache through him again. He leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead, lingering a few beats longer than he should, but if it’s the last time he kisses her he’s going to savor it. He removes his lips and drops his hand a moment later, and steps away from her.

When she still doesn’t speak all he can do is give a slow nod before he turns for the door. He doesn’t make it three steps before she calls out to him, her voice shaking and his name cracking in half as it falls from her lips. He stops mid-stride and she notices the slight hesitation from him before he turns around to face her, and then she sees that his tears have fallen. Tears for her. For them.

She knows what she is about to do is the hardest thing she’ll ever do and it’s terrifying, but not as terrifying as it would be if she let him walk out her door for good.

“I want that with you. The good kind of love. I want it and it scares the hell out of me,” she breathes out through hiccups and fresh tears.

It’s all he needs and then he’s walking towards her. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close and tight against him with one arm around her back and his other hand holding her head to his chest.

Her whole body shakes and she can’t stop crying now as she leans into him. And then she whispers, “I do love you and I want you to stay.”

He squeezes his arms around her in their embrace and presses his lips to the side of her head.

“I’ll stay,” he tells her, knowing it’s the only thing she needs to hear from him.

Her eyes close at the sound of his words and her entire body goes limp in his arms. It’s the first moment since the mess of their day on the job that she finally feels herself fully relax and be at ease. She grips his shoulder with a trembling hand, the rest of her body still shaking, but he continues to hold her up and hold her against him like the anchor he’s always been for her.

She knows he means staying more than just tonight and there’s a moment, maybe for the first time in her life, where the future doesn’t worry her or scare her. Not when it includes him, them.

#upstead #upstead fic #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay x hailey #chicago pd

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princessofprocrastination · 3 years

Text

She’s Creepy (Dream)

MASTERLIST

(PART 1)

pairing : dream / clay x reader

summary : apparently being a huge fan of a big youtuber is considered being a creep, according to minecraft gamer, dream. and ever since he called you mean things, your world turned upside down. (ANGST) (TRIGGER WARNING)

GEORGE’S POV

looking back, there was so many things we could’ve done before she saw us.

walked out before she did?

not stared at her like she was the only source of food in a stranded island?

but then again, we were still in shock. but we were left in more shock after she did what she did.

she settled the bill and was proceeding to walk out the restaurant alone, since her family went off first.

since she wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings before, we didn’t think she would this time.

but we were proven wrong in the next second.

she looked up from her wallet, coincidentally, looking up to us.

her eyes moved from me to nick to clay. she looked confused for a second.

and then, a smile.

wait? a smile?

you smiled at us, bringing up your wallet-less, right hand to wave to the three of us.

i looked to see what the other two boys reactions would be.

as expected, shock clearly written all over their faces.

YOUR POV

three years can make someone change. a lot, in fact.

they say to forgive and forget. but logically, how does one forget something that change your whole life?

but you forgave them. you were not heartless. you weren’t going to bring this to your grave. that seems so childish of you.

at the end of the day, what happened years ago changed your life, for the better.

you were making better money than you did when you still made videos.

sure, now you couldn’t really enjoy life by posting on the internet you doing things you love or posting the people you cherish. but that didn’t matter anymore.

you had a good career, a good life.

and you still looked up to the three boys.

sure, they hurt you a little. but you were sure they must’ve did something to stop people from ruining your life after you left social media. right?

so you smiled at them.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t shocked and confused. you were almost speechless. what do you say to the three people that made you the woman you are now?

how did you not notice them sitting on the table just opposite you? and why were the three of them together? as you knew before, they don’t even live in the same country.

maybe they have met since then and they’re just enjoying a good dinner. as you just were.

“hi, haven’t heard of you guys for a little bit.” you walked closer to their table.

your family left, anyways. they said they would catch up with you another day, seeing that most of them have jobs, just like you.

“uh. we- we haven’t heard from you either.” sapnap, nick.

nothing changed. they still looked the way they did three years ago.

besides dream, of course. up till today, you had no clue what he looked like. but damn, he is one hot dude.

“please, sit down. that is, if you don’t have to go.” george. even after three years he is still so adorable and awkward.

you pulled out the empty chair beside sapnap, sitting down.

“since i haven’t formally introduced myself, i’m y/n.” you said, shaking sapnap’s hand.

the polite texan brought your hand to his lips and kissed it instead. how sweet.

you smiled at him as he told you his real name.

they took turns introducing themselves.

air still tense, you tried to make it less awkward.

“stop thinking about the past.” you broke the awkward silence.

“how? you were forced to leave the country.” dream, or clay said.

“that was years ago. now i’m back and clearly fine. my fault for not getting a place with better security, anyways.”

“no. it was clearly my fault for sayin-”

“let’s just put this behind us now. it doesn’t matter now, anyways.” you cut off clay’s words.

clay looked like he was thinking about it for a while before he nodded and let it past him.

“still, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean all i said.” clay looked into my eyes, sincerely apologizing.

“i forgave you years ago. don’t worry about it.” you smiled at him.

“god you’re too nice.” you laughed at what clay muttered under his breath, thinking you wouldn’t hear him.

“soooo, frozen yogurt?” nick asked all of you.

everyone agreed. maybe then, you’ll know each other more.

not as content creators, but as normal people.

“let’s go to my house.” you told them. you lived alone in a big house, constantly lonely. and you didn’t want the night to end yet.

although they were hesitant, they agreed.

it was obvious they didn’t want to accidentally push any boundaries with you. they acted like you are still fragile. they were scared that the wrong thing you make you blow up.

you told them that you would never do that. that you were comfortable with any kind of questions, to not act like you were a piece of glass.

you drove to your house, clay’s car trailing behind, nick sitting on the passenger seat of his car.

george asked you politely if he could follow you instead of clay.

obviously, you told him he could. he was to adorable to say no, anyways.

although he is the oldest, it felt like he was the opposite. he was just so shy and quiet.

in the car, he told you everything. what clay thought of you, the times he cried in his home watching your old videos and looking at your old photos. he told you the times clay wished he spoke to you instead of acting arrogant.

you almost teared up at that. so this is why george wanted to drive with you instead. got it.

george told you clay basically fell in love with you through social media, that he felt the need to lash out on your in the eyes of the public due to his jealousness.

apparently he felt like he didn’t stand a chance with you.

“has he seen himself in the mirror lately? that man is beautiful.” you laughed at your own comment.

“well, technically, you didn’t know what he looked like. but yeah, he is pretty hot, huh?” george laughed along.

“i didn’t know what he looked like, which made it so much better. i simped for a green smiley face, can you believe that?” you laughed even harder.

“his voice is pretty attractive, too.” george agreed and laughed with you.

you stopped at the security post which was unusual for you since the security guard knew your car and you could always just drive in without stopping.

“the car behind mine is with me.” you told the guy.

“yes ma’am.” he told you, and cleared clay’s car.

“so this is what being rich is like.” george said.

“you’re an idiot. you’re rich too.” you told him.

“you live rich, i don’t” he replied.

“touche.” you told him.

you parked your car in your garage, leaving space for clay car beside yours.

you and george walked to your front door, you using your fingerprint to open the door.

“hey, y/n?” nick called you as you opened the door to your house, them stunned at the classiness of the layout of your house.

“yeah?” you acknowledged him.

“are you single?” you almost chocked on your spit, but laughed it off.

“yes, nick. why?” you turned to him, confused on why he asked you that question. you were surprised to see how close he was to you.

“hey mamas, let’s go on a date someday.” nick invited you, clearly joking.

“nick! you can’t just say that.” clay. someone’s jealous.

“you paying?” you jokingly asked nick, staring into his eyes, acting serious.

“you bet.”

“where are we going?” you asked him, leading the boys to the living room to watch some television.

“in n out.” nick laughed but still managed to let out the answer.

“text me the date, i’m down.” you answered him. nick laughed, going up to you to kiss your cheek. you shook your head at his stupid antics.

“it’s that easy.” nick told the other boys, more specifically, clay. guess he was trying to get clay to do something. it’s too obvious.

“wait. is this real? you guys are serious?” clay asked, almost sweating, it seemed. he asked it like it was an urgent question.

“you’re an idiot, clay.” nick told him. nick put his arm over your shoulder as he sat next to you on the couch, stealing the remote to pick a movie.

“no clay, not real. he’s just messing with us.” george finally said something.

you heard clay sighing. you assumed he sighed in relief. you laughed to yourself. nick realized what you were laughing at, laughing along with you.

“you know, don’t you?” nick whispered in your ear. you nodded, smiling to him.

“know what?” shit. clay heard that? you shook your head, telling him to forget about it.

and he did forget about it. or so you thought.

while the four of you watched hamilton, he was the most silent. but you didn’t think much about it. you talked at some point of the show and continued watching.

“wait a second.” clay realized something.

“FUCK. YOU KNOW.” clay basically screamed.

george almost snorted. “duh. you couldn’t have been more obvious, loverboy.”

“shit. how did you know?” he asked, looking at you straight in the eyes.

you pointed to george.

and that, is how you find yourself a boyfriend after years.

you weren’t even sure how it progressed after that night.

the boys stayed at your place and you order a shit ton of clothes their size so they could keep staying here without buying anything.

you were glad they willingly stayed. you were lonely in that house anyway.

you were making breakfast for three starving boys and yourself when you felt hands on your waist. “you’re too kind.” he whispers in your ear.

“you’ve told me once or twice.” you chuckled.

“get a room.” george yelled, nick agreeing.

“i will kick you out.” you threatened.

“kidding. we love you.” the two boys tried to take their words back. you and clay laughed at how stupid they were acting.

TAGLIST

@sarah-limelight @your-typical-giggle

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken #dream imagine #dream imagines #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken imagines

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shinydelirium · 3 years

Text

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 21 (Kiro) Part 3 [Taking a Risk] & [Little Star] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of chapter 21: Part 1/ Part 2

[Taking A Risk]

Warm light reflects off the vintage crystal chandelier, casting fine shadows on the wall.

I returned to my room the next day. The service of storing Evol seemed to require a special number to be called.

I looked at the introduction in the hotel guide and dialed the number written on it.

Waiter: Hello, what can I do for you?

MC: Ahem, hello, I want to enjoy the service of storing Evol. How do I do it?

Waiter: What is your Evol type?

MC: ….My Evol deals with memory.

Waiter: Okay, the information has been registered for you.

Waiter: Please wait in the room for a moment. We will send a dedicated service staff to serve you.

I put down the phone and looked at Helios standing to the side with a worried look.

Helios: Now, we wait.

However, a few hours passed and there was still no sign of movement.

I leaned on the soft pillow a little nervously, looked towards the cabinet opposite me, and spoke quietly.

MC: …Helios, are you asleep?

After a while, a questioning sound came from the cabinet.

Helios: I’m asleep.

Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help but smile.

MC: Then Mr. Sleep Talker, shouldn’t you open the cabinet door a little bit to let some air out?

MC: Besides, this room has been checked and there’s no monitor, so you don’t have to hide so soon.

The air fell silent again and soon the cabinet door creaked to reveal a gap.

The light outside the door instantly spilled in, making those azure blue eyes clearer.

I lowered my head and looked at the closet. The space inside was really small. He could only sit down on the wooden board with his legs bent and his knees pressed to his chest.

Such a well-behaved sitting position matched with that expression.

I snickered in my heart and rested my head on my hand.

MC: After we leave this place, shall we go on a walk together and bask in the sun?

Helios: ….

The cabinet door became quiet again and occasionally I could hear shallow breathing.

I was about to change the subject when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Almost instantly, the faint beam of light from the cabinet door disappeared once more.

??: Dear guest, the service you requested has been processed.

??: If you’re ready, please press the button inside the handle.

MC: Okay.

I walked past the closet and knocked lightly with my fingertips. I went to the door and bent down.

With his reminder, I noticed that there was an extremely tiny button on the deep side of the handle.

MC: …This is too secretive.

The moment the button was pressed, the side wall suddenly pushed back and slowly pulled away to the left.

A waiter stood behind the hidden door and politely bowed.

Waiter: Pardon me.

MC: …Don’t you think this is a bit scary?

Waiter: In order to ensure the privacy of each guest, I am sorry that it has brought you a bad experience. We will make better improvements next time.

MC: …..

Waiter: Please follow me.

I walked into the secret door with no expression on my face. Then, I turned a corner into a deep corridor and I secretly felt that it was no wonder that Helios couldn’t find it.

This is too well hidden.

We walked into the elevator and the waiter pressed the only button on the panel.

The elevator shook slightly. The waiter frowned and looked up.

I vaguely guessed the reason for the elevator shaking so I spoke up. ***Is Helios gonna take a ride on top of the elevator??? So badass!!!***

MC: What’s the matter?

Waiter: Ah, I’m apologize for making you feel anxious.

Waiter: This elevator doesn’t normally shake.

MC: Probably your imagination? This elevator feels very stable to me. ***MC is getting better at her acting skills 😆***

The waiter nodded and faced the elevator door again.

The ride took longer than expected and it took about a minute before the elevator slowly came to a stop.

After we walked another long corridor, we finally stopped in front of a wooden door. The waiter knocked gently on the door before pushing it away, turned around and made an inviting gesture with his hand to me.

I walked in and found that it was just an extremely normal room. There was nothing around that indicated a device to store Evol.

At the table in the middle of the room was a man who looked seventy or eighty years old, and behind him stood a very burly man.

The elderly man was very old. His thick eyelids were pulled down low, almost covering both eyes.

He raised his eyes laboriously, reached out his fingers and tapped on the table, motioning me to sit down.

I sat in front of the old man. My other hand quietly touched the anesthesia gun at my waist.

Old man: Extend your hand.

MC: Before I do that, can you tell me the process of how Evol is stored first?

MC: Even though I requested the service, I also have the right to ask how it works.

The old man didn’t speak as if he was about to fall asleep.

Man: Guest, your hand is part of the process.

The man behind him replied in a low voice and walked to my side with a sense of unspeakable oppression.

MC: …

Man: Guest, is there a problem?

??: The problem is you.

An intense silver light appeared behind the man like a ghost and the chilling light made those blue eyes look even colder.

Almost instantaneously, his question was interrupted by the sound of broken bones in the air.

The swift figure resembled a crescent silver moon, leaving traces like a shadow.

The man was unresponsive as if he didn’t care about his slightly twisted arm. A silver pillar made iron steel condensed in the palm of his hand and he swung it at Helios.

Helios pulled out two handles from behind his waist. The knife blades clashed against the silver pillar, making a harsh rubbing sound.

At the same time, I immediately grabbed the stiff and somewhat lethargic old man and hid off to the side.

This old man is definitely a certain key and we can’t let him get injured here.

I can’t help much at this time but at least I won’t hinder Helios.

A look of surprise flashed in the man’s eyes. After thinking for a bit, he waved his hand and countless small, silver needles appeared in the air, shooting them straight at Helios.

Only the silver light is no longer there.

In the moment of confusion, Helios had already appeared behind him. The cold knife reflecting the man’s terrified eyes.

Helios: Fool.

There was not even a scream but a faint voice came.

Helios held the dagger and walked towards the old man with a blank face, covering most of the light in the room, looking at him condescendingly.

Helios: I don’t have time for nonsense.

Helios: Who are you?

[Little Star]

The old man shivered at the figure shining in the cold light, breathless with fear.

Old man: Don’t kill me. I, I was threatened….

He opened his mouth blankly, ready to say something.

All of a sudden, the air around him instantly became distorted, gradually swallowing his body and began to dissipate like a bubble.

In the middle of disappearing, the old man tried hard to hold onto Helios’ hand.

But it only passed through his body.

Old man: Please, you….must help me….

In the silent room, there was only a trembling echo, as if the old man was never there.

I stared blankly at what was happening, a bit in disbelief.

MC: Helios, he’s…

Helios: Leave here first.

As he said that, he stretched out his hand to pull me.

Suddenly, the floor under our feet began to shake, and an inexplicable sense of dizziness filled my entire brain which caused me to lean back.

Helios: MC!

A black line ran across us suddenly like a crack. I stretched out my hand and in my peripheral vision, I saw Helios preparing to jump—

In the next second, the entire space seemed to rotate violently and the huge inertia forced me to slam into the wall on my right.

The scenery in front of me is like a pop-up book that has been quickly flipped through, continuously changing and becoming blurry.

I curled up in pain. The heavy pain constantly eroding my willpower.

MC: Helios…

I feel like I lost consciousness.

Under the night sky, in the center of the fountain with exquisite patterns, water gushed out of the nozzle from the statue.

A man was sitting on a recliner by the fountain, looking at a Rubik’s Cube suspended diagonally in the air.

He raised his head, staring alertly at the old man sitting on the ground.

??: You’re really going to cause trouble for me.

While he said this, the man’s eyes flashed with excitement and madness, his fingers shaking.

The Rubik’s Cube began to flicker with strange lights and flipped over.

??: But I also see that he’s been quite the eyesore for a long time. I can finally crush him now, right?

Helios: ….

Helios: ….MC.

Helios: Kilo, display location.

Amongst the chaos, I vaguely heard an extremely anxious and nervous voice reach my ears.

Helios: Damn it.

Helios: MC!! Can you hear me?!

I opened my eyes slowly and my body felt like it was falling apart. I wanted to lift my right arm to prop myself up, but immediately felt the sharp pain.

The scene in front me seemed to be split with half of it that was the room I was previously in and the other half a dense bamboo forest.

MC: ….I can hear you.

As soon as I made a sound, the rapid breathing in my ear seemed to stop for a moment.

Helios: Are you hurt anywhere?

I smiled bitterly, pulled myself and sat in a corner, trying hard to stand up.

MC: It seems that I hit arm when I crashed into the wall.

Although it was very painful that I wanted to cry, I managed to make my voice not sound so weak.

Helios: …Does it hurt?

His voice was very soft, with some far-off and familiar tenderness in it, making my nose tingle instantly.

For a while, I was a little confused, either from the intense pain or the softness that I hadn’t heard for a long time.

***If you choose the top answer: “It hurts”***

MC: ….It hurts.

MC: *sniffles*….It really hurts.

I couldn’t hold back the emotions surging in my heart and the grievances I had suppressed also came pouring out.

Helios: …Don’t cry.

I rarely heard his voice sound so flustered. It sounds just like the bewildered boy in my memory.

***If you choose the bottom answer: “It doesn’t hurt”***

MC: I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.

I was full of vigor and laughed, holding my arm. Gritting my teeth, tears came from my eyes unconsciously.

MC: What about you? Are you okay...?

Helios: MC.

On the other side of the line, Helios interrupted me smoothly.

Helios: The sound of your tears falling on the ground is loud.

I blinked, pressed my mouth, and vigorously wiped the tears with the back of my hand.

MC: How can that be...

A soft laugh came to my ears, like a feather, warming my heart.

Helios: I will be by your side soon so don’t cry.

MC: Then sing to me and I’ll stop.

Helios: ….

As soon as I spoke, I heard the sound of heavy objects rolling along the ground.

The sound of the wind kept passing by and Helios seemed to be running quickly, with a slight gasp from time to time.

My heart lurched suddenly and I felt a bad premonition rise up.

MC: What happened to you…..? Are you in some dangerous space again?

After a moment of silence, Helios replied with an answer that was completely irrelevant to my question.

Helios: What do want to hear me sing?

I was stunned. The whistling sound in my ear continued.

MC: It doesn’t matter. You must ensure your safety first!

Helios: How about “Little Star” (aka “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)?

MC: ….

The sound of the heavy objects rolling was getting closer and closer in my ears as if they wanted to run him over.

In the huge roar, a leisurely singing voice rang in my ears.

Helios: Twinkle twinkle, little star….

Helios: How I wonder what you are.

Those loud noises seemed to be shielded by a transparent film and only his faint singing voice remained in the whole world.

Gentle and firm.

His singing was mixed with rapid breaths and at this moment, it was like a soft embrace that enveloped me in it.

When the last melody descended softly, the chilling sound of a dagger being thrown ended the roar altogether and the world fell silent.

Helios: Don’t cry anymore.

His uncertain questions made me rub my eyes dumbfoundedly.

MC: Amazing, it doesn’t hurt anymore.

A soft laugh came from my ear and I seemed to be able to imagine his helpless smile.

MC: Helios, where do I go?

Helios: You’re injured so stay where you are.

MC: My hand is fine! Although I still don’t understand the operating structure of this space….

MC: But if we both head in the same direction, it will definitely be quicker!

Helios: ….

MC: Let’s go together.

I straightened up, looked at the door I front of me and said firmly to him.

The silent sound of running and the “whoosh” of a knife blade rushed into my ears. I quietly waited for his response.

Helios: Alright.

Helios: Let’s do it.

He let out a long sigh of relief, without saying a word, as if looking for our next route.

Helios: Open the door behind you.

Helios: Walk slowly.

MC: Roger!

I held out my arm and opened the door without hesitation in accordance with his instructions and strode inside.

I looked around and found myself standing on the stairs of an abandoned building. His voice immediately came to my ears.

Helios: Go up and push open the door on the top floor.

I turned and moved precisely according to his directions.

Obviously we are far apart from each other, but he knows where I am at this moment. It felt like he was right beside me.

I opened the door and was greeted by the bright sun shining in my eyes.

Taking a look, I found myself standing on the roof of a bell tower.

Helios: Grab hold of something. The Rubik’s Cube is about to turn.

I reacted instinctively and immediately grabbed a heavy rope after hearing his words.

Right afterwards, the familiar feeling of inversion came and I closed my eyes and held onto the rope tightly, waiting for the rotation to stop.

Soon the world returned back to normal. I opened my eyes and found that the scene in front of me hadn’t changed much.

***THIS IS SO INSANE AND I LOVE IT!!!***

Helios: Is your arm okay?

MC: No worries!

He was quiet for a while as if deciding on something.

Helios: MC, jump down.

I couldn’t help being startled, moving my feet and looking down.

The bell tower extends into the clouds. Thick clouds hang in the air and the howling wind beats against me, constantly reminding me of how high the bell tower is.

Breathing deeply, I climbed to the edge of the clock tower.

Helios: You can also wait for me to come see you.

He seemed to guess what I was thinking and his tone was softer than before.

MC: It’s no good if only one person is doing all the running.

After speaking, I took a deep breath and jumped.

The light, shadow and wind rushed past my ears, but I didn’t have the slightest timidness in my heart.

Because I know that this can get me a little bit closer to him. ***YES!!! THAT’S MY GIRL!!! GO TO YOUR MAN!!!😭😭😭 KIRO AND MC RUNNING TOWARDS EACH OTHER HENCE THE REASON WHY THE KARMA IS CALLED “RUN TO YOU” 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕

As I continued to fall, the space on the ground became distorted again until finally forming a door.

On the other end of the gate is a net woven with countless colorful soft bands which safely stopped my fall.

I steadied my heartbeat and looked up to find that this was a trampoline.

Sponges of different shapes were staggered and stacked and there was a door on the diving platform directly above.

MC: Helios, there’s a door on the platform not far away. Should I go there?

Helios: MC, go…

His voice became sporadic until a harsh electric static rang out and then nothing.

MC: Helios….?

I called his name but I didn’t hear any response.

MC: Did the communication get interrupted?

I looked at the door in the distance, thinking about what Helios didn’t finish saying.

Does he want me to go there? Or does he want me to choose another door?

I pursed my mouth, looked around, and found that there were several identical doors in the distance.

I hesitated and finally my eyes came back to the door on the diving platform.

Inexplicable intuition told me that he wanted me to go through this door.

MC: Take a gamble.

I stood up, climbed onto the platform, and grabbed the upper door handle—

Then, I was met by an endless stream of cars whizzing past me.

[End of Part 3]

This chapter is crazy!!! So much excitement, action, and sweet moments between Kiro and MC!!! My heart!!!🥺💕

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #mlqc season 2 #kiro #kiro spoilers #kiro season 2 #helios #helios spoilers #helios season 2 #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love dream date #mldd

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester: Queen

*Credit to gif owner*

Paring: Dean x reader

Pov: Readers

Warnings: Dean dressing in drag, swearing, Dean, loss of a bet, Dean being cocky, mention of Sam, Jealous!Reader Angst/Fluff, lots of talks with Sam, lots of talking with Dean towards the end. reader self-doubt, Dean being reassuring.

Summary: When Dean and the reader place a bet, it goes very much not in Dean favor. Dean has a tendency to get bored quickly though, which leads down a harsh road for the reader. Coming back to the bunker she tries to pretend everything is fine, but Dean wants answers.

Word Count: 3k

A/N- I know lots of pov switches I’m sorry... but I hope this is good and y’all like it.

Main masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69

“Bets are down!” Sam said.

Y/n had bet that if she won that game of pool that Dean would have to dress in drag. Dean bet that if he won pool which he was cocky about winning that Y/n would have to do the research for the next four hunts.

What neither one of them knew was the bet the other one placed.

Sam was the only one. So, the game began. I racked up the fifteen Dean grabbed his pool stick, and grabbed me a pool stick as well. He was being sort of gentleman. He chalked the end of both the pool sticks.

“Are you ready to get your ass beat!?” Dean said handing me my pool stick. “I can’t wait for you to have to do my bet.” Dean said excitement dripping into his words.

I rolled my eyes and rocked on the back of my heels. “Are you done being cocky Dean, so we can play this game?” I asked looking over at Sam.

He just shrugged and watch Dean and I. “Come on Dean just play. Stop trying to be an asshole. I bet Y/n doesn’t really care how much you show off.” Sam said.

Dean huffed and started to play. His board shoulders leaning over the pool table, lining the pool stick up with the white cue ball. I lifted the rack and stepped away from the pool table.

He struck the cue ball and game began. None of the colored balls or striped balls ended up ports at the corners of the pool table. Dean stepped back and let me have a go, figuring out what ball I wanted to take a hit at I lined my pool stick up with the white cue ball and strikes it.

The cue ball ended up hitting at least four balls two of which were colored balls landing into the corner spots. Sam sat and watched as Dean looked over at me and huffed once again in a sort of defeat. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Ya hear Dean.” Sam said.

Dean only shooed him off with a wave of his hand, and continued to play. This cycle went on for a bit. I’d play and get at least one ball in every time. I’d back up and let Dean take over the pool table, I’d go sit with Sam drink whatever beer I had left. And wait.

Wait for the grunt of disappoint when Dean didn’t any of his striped balls into the pockets, or a “Hell Yeah!” from Dean when he got a ball pocketed. Dean’s macho stance whenever he did hit a ball was ridiculous. “You know you honestly make him work for things.” Sam said commenting on how much Dean was really putting effort into the game.

“Come on now Sam. That’ I say waving my hand over the figure of Dean farther away ‘That right there is all Dean. I have nothing to do with any of that.” I said not really wanting to believe that I may have that great of effect on Dean like Sam says.

Dean is great at pool. Dean doesn’t lose bets either. Sam has watched his entire life Dean play pool and win every game. So maybe Sam sees something that I can’t see, or something neither Dean or I can see. Yeah, maybe Sam's right, maybe I have just the great of an effect on Dean Winchester.

We continued to play, each other us going back and forth from the pool table. Finally, the last-colored ball was sitting on the pool table, black eight ball was staring at me from across the table. taunting me to win the game, I lined my stick up with the cue ball and went through with a solid hit. It hit and within seconds the eight ball was in the pocket and I had won the game.

Meaning that Dean, oh poor Dean had lost the bet. Not a normal thing either for him to lose, but I keep thinking about what Sam said. I really hope that Sam was right for my own sake.

Sam looked over at me grinning at me. Dean was too preoccupied with a rather younger woman sitting not too far from the bar. He said before he left that he was getting more drinks and that there was no way I was going to be able to hit that last ball in.

All the happiness and excitement went out the window when I saw Dean flirting with her at the bar. His swagger and smirking face turned on to the max. It would have anyone weak to the knees.

Sam's eyes followed mine. Even Sam didn’t know that I wanted to be with Dean. Nobody knows, and I’d like to think I don’t want anyone to know. Because if I’m the only person then I don’t have to listen to Sam try and force to tell him, or Dean push me away.... I don’t want any of that.

Sam's eyes landed on his brother flirting his way into the woman’s pants. He looked over at me. I played a good game of pool, but I didn’t have a good poker face.

Sam got up from his bar stool at the table. He stood next to me and bumped my shoulder with his own, biting the inside of cheek I took a deep breath in and looked over at Sam. “Dean tends to be blind to the good things in front of him.” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter. The happy moment is gone. He’s bored. So, I take the rest of my pride and leave with it. Because I’m sorry Sam, but Dean isn’t worth the heartbreak.” I said putting the pool stick down on the table and grabbing my jacket from the bar stool seat that I was sitting at.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and apologized for Dean. “I’m sorry for him. Drive back to the bunker, and I’ll get him home without extra company.” He said, before kissing my temple.

I smiled for a quick second at Sam before walking past Dean at the bar with the women straight out the door and to my car. I slammed my car door and rested my head against the steering wheel. Letting my body finally go through the emotions. Crying until my steering wheel was soaked.

Dean Pov:

When I finally looked back over at the pool table the first thing, I noticed was no Y/n. Where’d she go? I got up from the bar and walked back with the drink that I had ordered.

“Sam, where’s Y/n?” I asked, noticing the pool stick sitting on the table. Sam didn’t turn around at all, his eye very much focused on the sports game on the TV screen above. Setting the drinks on the table I asked again.

“Sam, where’s Y/N?” He turned and just shook his head. “Dude seriously, her jacket isn’t here and her pool stick is sitting on the table.” I said still very confused as to what was truly going on.

“Dude she left.” Sam said jugging the rest of his beer. “But we weren’t even done with the pool game.” I said a little huff falling out with my words. “Yeah, you were, Dean. Don’t play innocent like you weren’t feeling that girl up at the bar.... Oh, and by the way she won.” Sam said shortly.

I walked over to the pool table noticing all the colored balls were gone pocketed in the corners of the pool table. ‘Damn that girl beat me’ I thought. Wait I don’t understand why’d she leave just like that. I didn’t say anything to her.

“Oh my god Dean, I can hear you thinking. Let me guess you can’t figure out what you did wrong can you?” Sam said getting up and tucking his bar stool under the table. “Let’s go. I’m ready to go home.” Sam said. I really didn’t have any choice, so I chugging the rest of my beer, and throw some cash on the table before jogging to catch up to Sam.

Y/n Pov

I sat in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey. Sipping it ever so often, but hearing the bunker door open and then shut I decided to just chug the whiskey. It burnt at tad as it fell past my lips and down my throat.

In walked Sam and then shortly Dean walked in. Sam was silent grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and giving me a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen.

Again, it was silent. “So... Sam gave me your bet. I’ll do it. I just have a question’ Dean asked, I turned in the seat and faced him. Dean was leaning up against the kitchen island arms crossed his chest and his ankles crossed. ‘Why’d you leave the bar early.” He said finishing his sentence.

Bewildered by how Dean thought he had done nothing wrong I sighed heavily and went to say something it couldn’t. The words not wanting to fall out of my mouth. If they fell out then that would mean that they were real.

“If I dress you in that drag... I tell you afterwards. Deal?” I asked. Hoping Dean would let it go for tonight. I could have the last fun with Dean tomorrow and then I’ll tell him. “Okay fine. Tomorrow after you’re done.” He said pushing off the kitchen island and kissing me on my temple.

Leaving me alone once again in the vast space of the kitchen.

I won’t say that I didn’t have fun grabbing all the shit I needed for dressing Dean up in drag. Grabbing laced up combat heels, a black dress, and a shit ton of makeup. I wanted this to be fun. And how can I forget I grabbed a bleach blonde long wig to complete whatever look I was going for.

Shooting Dean, a message to come to library he was there quicker than you could say apple pie. It was awkward at first since everything that had happened last night, but he had gotten over that pretty quickly. Dean sat down in front of me.

“Are you ready?” I questioned him. “I lost a bet. I really can’t pull myself outta this one can I.” He spoke. “So, I’m going to take that as yes.” I spoke. After almost three hours of me trying to do Deans drag makeup. Constantly having to tell him to close his eyes, or whatever other instruction I gave him. I was done with that part.

He got up, “My face all the sudden feels every heavy.” He said gently patting his cheeks with his palm. “Don’t touch!” I said swatting his hand away. Dean raised his hands in defense.

“Here!" I said shoving the bag with everything except the wig to him. Go change, just don’t look at the make-up, yeah.” I spoke. sitting back down in the chair with a plop.

Dean getting dressed took another hour. He walked out the dress wasn’t tight around his figure and the lace stockings I had also bought he was wearing; the boots look good. He was little wobbly but otherwise he looked alright.

He walked over to me. Reminding me just how much taller he was then me now that he had a pair of heels on. “Put your head down.” I said quietly but he followed my instructions. When Dean flipped his head back over, he had a wig on. The extra weight throwing his head off for a long second.

As Dean tried to regain his head balance, I shot Sam a message asking him to come out the library and to have his camera ready. In a split-second Sam was there with his phone.

Dean stood-up his hands on his hips. “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m just going to say that I look like a bad ass bitch.” He said trying to balance on the heel on the combat boots I had grabbed.

“Can we take pictures? We promise we won't share them.” I asked, getting for a harsh ‘no’, but instead the answer was yes. Sam took a few and so did I. then Sam waved to us saying he had reading he had to catch up on.

“So... Now that I've done this, can you tell me why you left the bar early yesterday night.” Dean said reaching up to take off the wig. “Yeah, but first get out of the clothes because I bet, you’re uncomfortable and you come back here, and I’ll take all this shit off your face, agreed.” I spoke.

He gave me a sideways glance, “Okay, don’t go running off okay.” He said as he got up wobbling and holding onto objects as he walked away. Only a few minutes he came back wearing only a pair of sweats and a pair of Christmas slippers I had gotten both of the boys.

“Please take this stuff off my face, because to be honest with you I can feel it seeping into my skin.” Dean said. I laughed a little thinking about how realistic that explanation was to what it really felt like.

I got to work. Wiping Deans eye gently with the cotton pad. “Can you please tell me now?” Dean said eye closed. The feeling of his eye not being on me as these words passed my lips was actually more helpful.

“U mm... you left... and everything was going great, but... You... and then” I said skipping over words and frustrating myself. Dean reached out placing his hand on my wrist. “Y/n just slow down. One step at a time.” He spoke.

Taking a deep breath in, I started again. “So, everything was going well, you were being your cocky self which doesn’t bother me. And then all the sudden it seemed like you got bored of us... actually, more like you got bored of me and the game. Like whenever it just you and me. Some younger chick takes your attention.” I said, grabbing a new cotton pad and starting to clean Deans other eye.

You’ve got to get the rest of your thought-out Y/n.

“Dean I would do anything for you. I hope you know that. Literally anything I’d die for you to be able to save the world. But I don't much in return. I ask for you spend some of your precious time with you. I just want your attention. I’ll do anything for you to just want me.” I spoke

I gasped and covered my mouth. Oops that part wasn’t supposed to come out. I finished in eyes. He opened them and grabbed my wrist before I could grab another cotton pad.

“Do you really mean everything you just said.” He asked, I kept my eyes the floor suddenly finding that much more interesting than Dean’s emerald green eyes. Or his amazing freckles. I felt a touch of Deans hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Did you mean it Y/n?” Dean asked again a sterner tone falling into the words. “Yes, Dean.” I said a frown falling onto my features. So many thoughts running through my head but none of them were the next things that Dean said to me.

“Glad, because I want you too.” He spoke. Thank god Dean finger was still under my chin because if not my jaw would have landed on the floor between our legs. “So, the flirting?” I asked in a hushed voice. Not trusting my own words at current moment.

Dean face contorted and he took a moment to think. “Those girls... they were the only way I thought I could get over you, but I realize now that I’m a complete and utter asshole. A blind asshole. I’m sorry Y/n.” Dean said

His hand migrating to my cheek and his thumb rubbing right under my eye in a comforting way. I leaned into the touch. “You are an asshole. Just neither of us knew what the other was thinking.” I said touching out forehead together.

“Can you get the rest of this makeup off, please, Y/n?” Dean asked. I rolled my eyes and pulled away from his forehead.” Way to ruin the moment Winchester.” I said before I started cleaning up the rest of Deans face.

‘Yeah, I know, but I really wanted to kiss you properly without any makeup on.” He said smashing his lips into mine, and holding down tight onto my waist and forearm. When he pulled away needing air he asked “We’re both idiots, but can we be idiots together?” I smiled and shrugged my shoulder before lunging in for another Dean Winchester kiss.

“Wait, you don’t care that I don’t look like the other girls the you flirt with?” I asked shyness overcoming me. My grasp on the idea that Dean would even want me was eating away at my brain. Giving me a very perplexed look, and scrunching his eyebrows.

“Look I know that it looks like I have a type.” Dean said grabbing into one of my thighs. “But, that’s a different Dean, that’s hopefully in the past. I know that I have a track record for only bring home blonde skinny women, but I... I want you and your body. I want all your thick parts’ he said squeezing my thigh. ‘I want your crazy bed head in the morning. I want you to continue trying to beat me at pool, I want you to be with me. I want so many things, but all of them are because of you.” Dean said pausing to let me take in his words. “I want whatever you want to give me. I don’t care what your body looks like because that’s not what made me attracted to you doll. Your heart, mind, and soul are what made me want you. I hope that’s okay” He said.

I smiling and sniffed my nose trying to stop the cascade of tears that was about to break. “Yeah, that’s okay Dean.” I said grasping Deans strong body for a hug.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

61 notes · View notes

98prilla · 4 years

Text

Medicate

Thomas decides to try anxiety medication, working together with Virgil to find the one that works

AO3

….

I myself am on anxiety medication, and it is so helpful. I kinda hate the "Thomas takes medication and it hurts Virgil" trope, because that's not what the medication is meant to do, and if it does hurt you, then it's either the wrong dose or the wrong medication. This is mostly based off my own experiences trying to find the one that works.

….

“Hey.” He says, popping onto his place on the stairs, eyebrow raised as he looks around and sees no one else, just Thomas. “Sup?” He asks, nervousness creeping into him at Thomas's silence.

“I… wanted to talk to you about something. But I don’t want you to freak out and run away. I won’t do this if you don’t want me to.” Thomas says seriously, and his heart is racing now as he forces a deep breath in.

“Ok. Ok. Whatever it is, I won’t run, ok? Just… tell me now and explain after, otherwise, well, anxiety.” Thomas takes a deep breath, nodding once to steel himself.

“I want to start anxiety medication.” Static roars in his ears. He’s been too much, of course he has, and now Thomas is going to get rid of him just like he always should have.

“il. Virgil. Breathe. In for four… hold for seven… out for eight.” He slowly gets ahold of himself, following Thomas's voice out and back to reality until he blinks and his vision clears.

“sorry. I… whatever it was, I’m sorry." His voice is a whisper, but Thomas hears, coming closer and kneeling at the base of the stairs.

“no. It’s not like that, Virgil. I’ve been researching a lot. This isn’t to get rid of you. It won’t get rid of you. I want it to help. The both of us." He uncurls slightly, reassured at Thomas’s vehemence, curiosity peeking through. Thomas sees this and continues at his small nod.

“You work so hard, Virgil. And I appreciate it, I do. But we both know you go overboard sometimes. I’m not blaming you, I know you can’t help it, that we, can’t help it. But that isn’t healthy. Not being able to sleep, not being able to eat, heart racing and stomach churning constantly, isn’t healthy.” He nods again. He knows this. He can’t stop how he is, but he knows his habits are unhealthy. “That's what the meds are for. Not to get rid of you, not to impair your purpose, just… just to take the edge off. To give you space to breathe. To just… be. Help us relax, help us not overblow things, and if it is doing more than that, if it is hurting you, then it isn’t doing its job right, ok? If we do this, I need you on board. If you feel wrong or bad or sick, then either the dose or the med isn’t right for us, and we’ll try something else. The goal is not to get rid of you, Virg. It’s to help you.”

He’s silent for a moment, taking it all in, processing the information, before taking a deep breath, pushing back his hair.

“ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok. A few years ago I woulda laughed in your face, but I… I trust you, Thomas. Yeah, I’m freaked out and scared half to death but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? I’m scared and guarded and overwhelmed all the time. I’m so… tired.” He bites his lip, looking down, feeling the tension thrumming in his shoulders, the slightly too fast beat of his heart, how even now his mind is screaming danger, and feels the weight of the world atop him. “I’m tired Thomas. So if you think this will help, ok. Let’s try it.”

“Thank you, virg. For hearing me out. I’m proud of you.” He hides his smile by rolling his eyes, looking up at Thomas.

“yeah, well, don’t go soft on me now, Thomas.” A small salute, and he's gone, leaving Thomas chuckling to himself on the staircase.

…

He pops into the living room with little fanfare, flopping onto the couch with a low sigh, faceplanting into the cushions. He can hear the scratch of Princey’s pencil against paper, Logan turning pages in a book, Patton humming softly to himself, but his hair prickles.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.” He says, voice muffled by the cushion, but still loud enough they all hear.

“You’re not even looking at us! How do you know we’re staring?” Roman asks, and he rolls his eyes, flipping over so his head is against the arm rest, hugging a pillow to his stomach.

“Logan reads faster than that, he was barely turning pages. Patton only hums like that when he’s nervous and trying to pretend he’s not focused on the thing that he is focused on, and you kept stopping writing every few seconds before picking up again, erasing whatever you just wrote.” Roman gapes at him, Logan adjusts his glasses and Patton whispers ‘wow’.

“You got all that from listening?” Princey squeaks and he smirks.

“Amazing what you notice when you shut your mouth, Princey.” Roman splutters, making him laugh, Logan shaking his head fondly.

“so kiddo… how’d it go?” Patton asks softly, slipping onto the end of the couch, and Virgil looks up at him in surprise.

“You knew?”

“We did. Thomas approached all of us first, so we would be prepared to help, whatever the outcome of the conversation was. Based on your demeanor, I would assume it went well?” Logan asks, and he sighs, sitting up, hugging the pillow closer.

“Y’know, usually I’m not a fan of people talking behind my back, but I’ll let it slide this time.” He comments, smiling slightly as Patton slides across the couch, sitting so their sides are touching.

“We get it, doom and gloom, how did it go?” Roman asks, throwing up his hands in faux exasperation.

“good, I guess. We talked, and I’m still… anxious, obviously, about it, about what could go wrong, but Thomas said that if it affects me… badly… he’ll stop. That it isn’t supposed to get rid of me, so we’re gonna try.”

“Thomas is correct. The medication is not supposed to impair you, rather it is supposed to help you better distinguish what is urgent and what is not. If it is doing anything other than that, it is not only harming you, but harming Thomas as well. I will be making daily observations, about your mood, physical state, mental state, sleep and food intake, to help monitor the effects of the medication and make sure that it is not causing you harm.”

“Oh Logan. You do care.” He snarks playfully, catching Logan’s stifled smile.

“Of course he does. We all do, Virg. We’ll all be keeping an eye out, ok?” Roman, soft and serious as he catches his eye.

“thanks, princey.” Patton simply shifts closer, waiting for his nodded permission before resting his head on his shoulder in silent support.

…

The first medication goes poorly.

Things are fine, at first. It takes two to three weeks to kick in, after all, though Virgil starts noticing changes by the end of week one.

He feels strange. Odd. Off. Sometimes, the world seems to tilt under his feet, and he finds himself losing his balance, stumbling over his own feet, running into doors and walls, misjudging their distance. He writes it off as a result of not getting enough sleep, which is true. He’s sleeping less than normal, almost not at all, going through episodes of heightened energy before crashing.

The crux of it all is when he’s been awake for five days straight, unable to turn off his mind, twitchy and sure that Thomas is being watched, being followed. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, heart speeding, already on the edge of panic, eyeshadow dark and breathing rapid.

“Virgil. We need to speak to Thomas.” His heart rate spikes further, and he pushes Logan away, shaking his head, hands shaking.

“No. no, no, no. I can’t, I’m busy, they’re watching, I can’t go out there or they’ll see. They can’t see.”

“I promise nothing will happen to you. They can’t get you if I’m there. I will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he nods. Logan is smart, Logan can outsmart them, trick them, maybe he can get them to go away.

“Thomas. This one isn’t working.” Logan states as they rise up. He is pressed against the wall, eyes darting wildly, breathing erratic and wrong, pressure building in his chest. Thomas looks up at him, eyes wide, and he stumbles back further.

“Virgil?” He shakes his head, panic taking over him. Because that isn’t Thomas. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows, that isn’t Thomas, someone has taken Thomas and replaced him, this isn’t his host, his friend, and Thomas is in danger, and he didn’t notice and how could he fail like this, fail Thomas, like this?

Then the world goes black.

…

They take a month. The medication needs to get out of Thomas’s system, and he needs to wean himself off it. He is paranoid and stressed and when it finally stops, he sleeps for nearly three days straight. During it all, the others take turns staying with him, never leaving him alone, constantly talking him down from his ever present fear and panic, wiping himself out with panic attacks day after day. It’s the worst experience of his entire life.

…

“Hey.” He appears of his own accord on the stairs, Thomas looking up from the couch, concern in his eyes. He hadn’t appeared since he’d passed out, though the others had, to give Thomas updates. He’d admitted he hadn’t been feeling quite right either, but hadn’t really noticed how bad he himself was getting until Virgil.

“Virgil, are you ok? I’m so sorry, I-“ He holds up a hand, gathering his thoughts and stopping Thomas’s rambling.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault. We knew there was a chance it wasn’t gonna go well. Stuff like this, doesn’t usually work on the first try. But I think… I think we should try again.” Thomas blinks in surprise, looking at him carefully, trying to asses his words.

“You do? I thought you’d be entirely against it now.” He shrugs, looking away.

“Sure, that one didn’t go well, to say the least, but… I don’t want that to stop you. Stop us. It’ll still help, once we find the right one.” Thomas smiles softly, nodding.

“ok. Ok, let’s do it. I’ll set up another appointment.”

…

He doesn’t notice the changes, this time.

They are gradual. Slow.

He finds the ever present tension leaking out of his shoulders.

He finds it easier to breath. His chest feels lighter, open, not tight and taut and suffocating.

He doesn’t panic, when the waiter asks Thomas to order. When a stranger bumps into Thomas on the street. When he fumbles over his words on a phone call.

He’s sleeping. He finds himself drifting farther and farther from his usual 3am bedtime and noon wake up, until he’s forgoing his usual tumblr scrolling, phone set aside by ten. The first time he wakes up at nine, well rested and light, is when he realizes that this… this is working.

He cries that day. He sits on the couch and cries, letting Patton pull him close and hold him, letting himself lean into the touch, and for once it doesn’t feel too much, it feels nice and good, and he cries harder as Patton shushes him, rubbing his back.

“you ok, kiddo?” Patton asks, when his cries die down into sniffles, slipping off Patton’s lap, but not going far, letting the fatherly side keep an arm around his shoulders, gently rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I didn’t realize… I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to feel like that, all the time. I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to be afraid all the time. I… I just…” He swipes at his eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“it’s ok, Virg. I’m just glad it helps. I’m so glad you’re doing better, I’m so glad this is working. You’re sleeping more. You’re smiling more. You’re laughing, Virgil, and it just makes me so, so, so, happy. You don’t look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore. You don’t slouch as much, you’re more confident, you’re more open to touch, you come to us when you’re worked up, you’re not constantly second guessing yourself, and it’s beautiful, Virgil. It’s beautiful, to watch you grow like this. To watch you be able to let go of some of that.” He stares at Patton, mind spinning out, because he’d noticed some of that, but not all of it.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“You aren’t supposed to. It’s not changing who you are, Virg. It’s just… letting you be who you are without all of the fear. It’s slow and steady progress. And I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”

He buries his face against Patton’s side, laughing and crying all at once, because he loves this feeling, loves feeling like this, loves… loves himself.

For the first time ever, he isn’t afraid.

And Patton is right.

It’s beautiful.

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eddieeatsass · 3 years

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On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 4/5 Read Chapter 3 Here / Read on AO3

Richie’s room was nicer than Eddie’s, way nicer. It’s not that Eddie’s room was bad, in fact he’d spent a good amount of time admiring it earlier, it’s just that Eddie’s room was like the discount version, and Richie’s was designer. Where Eddie’s room had gotten tall windows, half of Richie’s wall was taken up by a fireplace. Eddie supposed it was a trade, someone who preferred a nicer view might say Eddie’s room was the winner, but there was something undeniably romantic about your own fireplace. Richie’s room also seemed to have a newer TV, mounted on the wall across from their bed. The TV in Eddie’s room was older and hid behind two panels of wood in a cabinet. Simply put, Eddie was very glad Richie had decided to bring them here. Richie flopped on the bed immediately, overdramatizing how exhausted he was just from limping his way down the hall. Eddie hid a knowing smile and joined him. “Thank you for saving me, I was about five minutes away from dying of boredom.” Richie drawled. “Well, I can’t promise you’ll have any more fun here, but you’re welcome. ”Richie let his head loll to the side, regarding Eddie closely before speaking again. “No, I’ll definitely have more fun here. ”The insinuation was brash, Richie didn’t even bother trying to hide it behind a joke. It made Eddie’s gut clench in unusual ways. He brought his thumb up to his mouth, the habit of gnawing at his fingernails a hard one to kick, but was interrupted by his own gasp as his hand came into view. His knuckles were starting to bruise, tender to flex and even more tender to touch. He hadn’t noticed any pain earlier, too caught up in Richie to even think about anything else, but now that he was staring at his fist the ache began to echo under his skin. “You just notice that?” Richie asked gently, noting the horror in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie could only nod, his gaze fixed on the evidence of his breakdown. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at his hand, but when Richie’s entered the frame Eddie startled. He’d gotten a hand towel from the bathroom and wrapped some ice in it, which Eddie could only guess was provided in their minifridge. Richie guided Eddie’s hand down to his lap, placing the ice pack atop his knuckles gently and murmuring an apology when Eddie hissed at the sudden coldness. They stayed silent for a few minutes, simply sitting in each other’s presence as the ice dampened the cloth atop Eddie’s hand. Eddie was the first to speak, keeping his eyes downcast as he admitted his guilt aloud. “I’m not a violent person, you know.” He could feel Richie’s eyes on his face but didn’t give in to the lure. “Yeah, I know.” Richie reassured. “But Bowers is an exception-”“No, he’s not.” Eddie snapped. “If I sink to his level, I’m just like him.” Eddie wasn’t sure if Richie would get it. They had both been targets of Henry’s attacks, but Eddie never wanted anyone to feel the way he’d felt, not even Henry himself. Eddie’s mind was constantly replaying all the times he'd had his face shoved into the dirt, the way the gravel would stick to his wounds, the shouts he’d receive from his mother upon getting home. Henry was a god-awful human, but that didn’t mean he deserved to feel that same pain and sorrow. That wasn’t going to change anything; you can’t break the cycle with the same bullshit that fueled it. “I didn’t mean to do it.” Eddie whispered. “I just snapped.” Richie immediately scooted closer, an action Eddie wasn’t expecting or prepared for. He looked up and met bright blue eyes, tender and open and completely void of judgement. “You’re nothing like him; you didn’t want to hurt him. Bowers wants to hurt people. ”Eddie looked back down at his hand, flexing his fingers and watching as the makeshift ice pack slid off and landed on the sheets. “You know…” Eddie began thinking out loud. “I’ve felt the brunt of a lot of people’s insecurities. I don’t usually mind being projected on, it’s easy to see through the words and figure out what’s actually going on behind them. I’ve even gotten good at doing it with Henry, though he’s a bit of a different breed… But there was something about the things he said today... they felt more personal.” Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to spill out into the space between them, his vulnerability a tender wound. “Whatever, it’s stupid.” Eddie was quick to dismiss his own feelings, covering them up with a shrug of his shoulders that attempted to pass as indifference. “It’s not stupid.” Richie insisted. Eddie stared down at his uninjured hand as it picked at a thread on the blanket beneath them. “Listen, I don't know what Henry said, but you're not suddenly a super villain for fighting back one time. The first time I was called a fag, I threw a mug at the dude’s head.” Richie admitted aloud with a chuckle. “We were in a coffee shop and I was on my first date with a guy. I ended up having to pay for the broken mug and my backtalk. ”Eddie perked up like Richie had just given him a straight shot of smelling salts. All other sound in the room fell away as Eddie homed in on Richie’s voice, trying to discern if he was dreaming or not. “Safe to say it was not a very good first impression.” Richie laughed lightly, completely unaware of the way he was flipping Eddie’s world upside down. “Anyway, all I’m trying to say is you’re not the only one who’s lost their cool before. You’re human, you’re allowed to get upset when people treat you less than.” Eddie was sure Richie was making a good point, was sure what he was saying held some wisdom that could potentially help, but he was guilty to say he hadn’t processed a word of it. He was too caught up on the fact that Richie had dated guys before. Stan’s words echoed in his brain ‘You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog’, fucking Stan was always right, even with that stupid metaphor. Richie had begun talking again, but Eddie didn’t hesitate to interrupt him, this new revelation too significant to pass by. “You like boys?” Eddie blurted out, all grace and subtlety left behind with his spiraling thoughts. Richie froze in place, his hands up in a gesture Eddie was sure had something to do with what he’d been talking about, but now looked comically out of place. Slowly, Richie lowered his hands to his lap and regarded Eddie with a new look, one that held enough cockiness to knock the wind out of Eddie. “Grinding my dick on you didn’t send the message?” Richie teased, raising one eyebrow and swiping his tongue across his teeth. Eddie suppressed a full body shiver, averting his eyes from Richie’s intensity. “I thought you were maybe, like, I don’t know-” “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” Richie said with a twang that went straight to Eddie’s pants. He blamed Brokeback Mountain. “Well, it isn’t mine either.” Eddie defended instinctively. He watched as Richie’s eyes flicked down to his mouth and back up again, quick like a hummingbird and with all the same charm. “So, then what’s the issue?” Richie’s voice had lowered, taking on something much more intimate and sultry. It made Eddie’s heart rate spike. “I guess there isn’t one.” He breathed. “Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” Eddie barely had a moment to breathe before Richie captured his lips in a hungry kiss, his hand burying itself in the hair at Eddie’s nape to pull him in closer. The gesture almost made Eddie go limp, as if he were a cat being held by its scruff, submissive by instinct. He opened his mouth pliantly, allowing Richie in with a welcome of his own tongue. Eddie couldn’t believe that this was happening. Just a couple hours ago he was fisting his own cock, fantasizing about the way Richie tasted. Now he knew. Richie was a cold fire, stoking Eddie’s lungs with mint and cinnamon spice. He tasted like the frost outside, and the embers that kept you warm. It was comforting, enveloping in a way Eddie couldn’t describe. Eddie pushed against Richie, guiding him to lay down on his back so Eddie could climb atop his lap, resuming the same position they’d been in the night before. This time, however, there was clear determination between them. There were no longer hesitant touches or swallowed moans, every move was purposeful, made with intent. Eddie wasn’t shy to shed his sweater, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible now that they were finally happening. “Your body, god, do you know how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you?” Richie grabbed Eddie’s bare waist in near disbelief, awe shining in his eyes. “Less than 24 hours?” Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes and his hips in tandem. Richie groaned and tightened his grip, stilling Eddie forcefully. “Try years. You think I didn’t notice you until Mrs. Harrow forced us to sit together?” Eddie flushed even hotter, his skin reddening to match the fire that Richie was stoking. Richie grinned at Eddie’s speechlessness, pushing forward. “I noticed you for the first time in sophomore year. You were trying out for the track team at the same time as Mike and we were in the bleachers cheering him on. I was gone the second you walked out onto that grass. I tried to be respectful, but I couldn’t stop imagining myself squeezed between those thighs that your tight little track shorts did a great job of highlighting.” Eddie tried to recall that moment, tried to visualize Richie in the bleachers with his floppy hair and lopsided glasses, but all he could remember was the adrenaline he’d felt going behind his mother’s back, too busy to notice anything else. “I never stopped noticing you after that, in fact I’m surprised you never caught me looking your way during class…” Richie moved his hands to begin trailing up Eddie’s thighs. “But the second time I really noticed you, was at the end of that school year. We had a heat wave and the AC broke, d’you remember that? The school had no idea how to deal with it, so they just chucked us outside and gave us popsicles from the freezer in the cafeteria, probably because they were going to melt anyway. But you sat there in the middle of the field sucking on your popsicle like it was the best fucking thing you’d ever tasted. You might have been miserable like the rest of us, but you were too focused on your treat to pay any mind to the weather.” Eddie’s throat was going dry, his head beginning to feel light and airy as he listened to Richie talk. “That night I dreamt you were sucking my cock, that same euphoric look on your face as if it were that damn popsicle.” Richie’s hands reached Eddie’s hips and traced the curve around to his ass, causing Eddie to stutter a breath as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones. “I’ve thought about fucking you for years, Eds, to see you cum on my cock and hear you cry my name. I would do just about anything you asked me to, just as long as I can make you feel good.” Eddie had never been this aroused in his life. Every single nerve in his body was buzzing like a live wire, his toes already curling just from Richie’s words alone. “What if I asked you to take your clothes off?” Eddie braved, his voice shaky. Richie sat up, bringing them chest to chest. “Anything. You. Asked.” Richie punctuated each word with a featherlight kiss to Eddie’s lips. The butterflies in Eddie’s stomach went wild as he watched Richie begin to strip off his shirt. He did it slowly, keeping his eyes on Eddie as Eddie’s own raked down the newly exposed skin. Richie's skin was pale enough to rival the snow outside, spattered with fewer freckles than Eddie’s, but enough to break up the milky complexion. He was thin but still held definition, especially as Eddie’s eyes reached the ‘v’ of his hips that dipped into his waistband. Eddie swallowed thickly and nodded towards the spot where Richie’s hands were already hovering over his waistband. Eddie had to swing his leg off Richie and move to the side to let him shimmy his pants down his legs, every new inch equally as mesmerizing. “Like what you see?” Richie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Not sure yet, I think I need to see more.” Eddie whispered back, tension thick between them. Eddie could see where Richie was straining against the fabric of his boxers, tenting them to an intimidating level. The way his mouth watered at the sight made Eddie feel absolutely depraved, lewd in a way that only added to his arousal, made him want to spread his legs wide and offer himself up whole. The moment that stretched between them as Richie pulled his boxers down felt like an eternity. Eddie lived, died, and got reborn all in the span of that second. Richie’s cock was heavy, springing free for only a moment before falling back against his stomach. Eddie could see Richie moving in his peripheral, getting comfortable back against the duvet after throwing his boxers to the floor, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off his dick. He felt fingers carding through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and finally Eddie tore his gaze away from the challenge that sat before him. Richie’s smile was smug, but his eyes seemed vulnerable. Eddie realized he was waiting for his next command, unsure how they’d fallen into that pattern but not opposed to continuing it. Eddie felt powerful as he raised on his haunches and moved to where Richie’s legs were spread. He watched Richie’s face, noted the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his fingers twitched as he tried not to move. Eddie lowered his head so it was level with Richie’s cock, pausing just a few inches away so his breath grazed against it as he spoke. “Fuck my mouth.” Eddie directed, lust overwriting his usual nerves and replacing them with boldness. Richie’s breath shook as he let it out slowly. “Jesus fuck, Eddie…”Richie’s hands travelled back into Eddie’s hair, gentle at first and then gripping at the base. He guided Eddie’s head the rest of the way down and shuttered when Eddie finally took the head in his mouth. Eddie instantly felt intoxicated, like Richie was the strongest absinthe man had ever made. He greedily gulped it down, laving at the underside of Richie’s cock as it glided into his throat. Drool was already pooling at the corners of his mouth, but Eddie paid it no mind, his only focus on drinking in as much of Richie as he could. He knew right away there was no reality in which he could take all of Richie at once, at least not without a lot of practice, so he committed his mouth to the top half and his hand to the bottom. His fingers barely met as they wrapped around Richie’s shaft and gave an experimental pump. Richie groaned, and Eddie took it as a good sign. He repeated the motion with a twist of his wrist, tonguing the slit of his cock where precum was leaking out greedily. Eddie could feel Richie’s legs tensing where he had his free hand splayed across his thigh. Every time he teased the underside of Richie’s head that muscle would jump, and it almost became a game to see how quickly Eddie could make that muscle twitch, his tongue moving faster and faster against that sensitive spot and causing Richie's legs to vibrate. “Oh my god- fuck, ahhhh-h-how are you so good at this…” Richie’s voice was wrecked, raspy and low and breathy all at once. Eddie just hummed in acknowledgement, sending vibrations up Richie’s shaft that made him hump up into Eddie’s mouth. The action caused Eddie to gag and he reveled in it, moaning like a whore in heat. He was so far gone he barely noticed when Richie pulled him off suddenly. “Okay you’re too good at that.” Richie panted, his chest heaving. Eddie’s head was cloudy, the only conscious thought chanting ‘more, more, more’. He blinked a few times, trying to shift the room back into place. “Why did we stop?” Eddie asked dumbly, his words a bit slurred. “I didn’t want to cum yet. I sort of thought… maybe, if you wanted to, we could-” “Finger me.” Eddie blurted out, his senses coming back to him but not all gracefully. “I mean…” He cleared his throat, face beginning to flush. “…please." Richie looked liked he’d just won the lottery and been slapped across the face at the same time, a dopey kind of smile accompanying his features. “You don’t have to be polite about it, Eds. I’m kinda digging this whole dictator thing you’ve got going on, actually.” Eddie giggled adoringly, calmed by the way Richie was able to dissolve his nerves so quickly with such a disastrously dumb joke, even at a time like this. “Gimme a sec.” Richie leaned forward, catching Eddie’s lips in a chaste kiss before he was springing off the bed. “I know that bastard has lube somewhere.” Eddie watched as Richie began searching through what he assumed to be Bill’s suitcase, throwing things to the side in a frenzy. He finally came across a toiletry bag and ripped it open, rifling around for only a moment more and emerging with a small bottle of clear liquid. “Will Bill mind if we use it?” Eddie worried his lip between his teeth, not so much caring about the answer but asking anyway out of respect for his new friend. “Nah, he’ll just be happy I’m getting laid.” Richie winked and those damn butterflies acted up again. Richie crawled back onto the bed, setting the lube to the side temporarily. He returned his attention to Eddie, a renewed twinkle in his lust blown eyes. He crowded Eddie’s space, towering above him but lowering his head so their lips grazed against each other. “Let’s get these off, hmm?” Richie’s fingers stroked lightly at the waistband of Eddie’s sweatpants. “I thought I was the one giving orders.” Eddie teased back, voice barely above a whisper. Richie hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled, letting it snap back against Eddie’s stomach as he released it with a shuttering breath. “Alright Kaspbrak.” Richie let his body fall backwards, bouncing lighting as it hit the mattress. He brought his hands up behind his head and made a show of getting comfortable. “I am at your mercy.” That same emboldened feeling consumed him once again, a confidence only Richie seemed to instill in him. It was intoxicating, much like everything else about Richie. With a smirk, Eddie backed up off the bed and stood in the middle of the room. Eddie kept his eyes focused on Richie as he began to pull his sweatpants down, going painstakingly slow just to see Richie’s reaction. He saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed back his desire, a nearly imperceptible twitch making his cock jump in intrigue. Eddie kicked his pants to the side where they joined his long since discarded sweater, and then all his focus diverted to his neglected cock. All earlier thoughts of whether Richie would like his body were gone, he knew Richie liked his body, and he was planning on milking that for all it was worth. Eddie palmed himself over his underwear, letting his head fall back and his mouth drop open as he finally offered himself the stimulation he needed. He looked down and noted that the white fabric had gone translucent where his cock had been leaking against it, giving Richie a peek of the pink head underneath. He heard Richie whimper from the bed but paid him no mind, indulging in his own senses for a moment. He continued to tease himself through the thin cloth until he couldn’t take any more, finally allowing his hands to wander to the waistband and pull the underwear down his thighs. Richie was silent, watching so attentively that a pin could be heard dropping in the room. Eddie kicked the last piece of clothing off to the side and immediately let his hand wander back to his own cock, tugging it a few times and allowing himself to moan at the sensation. He heard the bed squeak and opened his eyes to see Richie crawling towards him. Gone was Richie’s passiveness and submission, replaced with a new hunger that made Eddie’s legs quiver. Richie reached his arms out and pulled Eddie in until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Even with Eddie standing and Richie kneeling on the bed, he was still a good few inches taller than him, and he used that to his advantage while crowding into Eddie’s space. “You can’t tease me like that.” Richie whispered into the shell of his ear, kissing right under it and beginning a path down his neck. “I didn’t mean to.” Eddie answered honestly, succumbing to the warmth of Richie’s lips and letting his head tip back once again. “Just felt so good…” “I can make you feel even better.” Richie promised, ghosting his hand down Eddie’s torso and just barely grazing his cock. Eddie moaned, arching into the faint touch and whimpering as it left. “Please…” Eddie’s jaw was slack, the word falling out without a thought. Richie continued making his way down Eddie’s body, sucking marks against tan skin as he passed. He paused at Eddie’s nipples to give them special attention and Eddie keened, grabbing at Richie’s hair in sudden desperation. Richie swirled his tongue around one bud, allowing his hand to pluck the other until he switched. He nipped lightly enough to cause Eddie to shutter and then sucked to soothe the reddening skin. He continued his trail downwards, licking along Eddie’s hip bones and kissing the juncture between his thighs and his pelvis, avoiding Eddie’s cock purposefully. Pleas were falling from Eddie’s mouth steadily now; his hands tugging weakly on Richie’s hair to try and guide him towards pleasure. Richie swiftly gathered Eddie in his arms, catching him off guard in his haze of lust. He moved back up the mattress and laid against the bed board, situating Eddie so he was laying across his body. “I bet your pretty little hole is just begging to be touched.” Richie murmured, reaching for the bottle of lube and hastily pouring a generous amount on his digits. Eddie moaned at the lewdness of the comment, his hips moving against Richie’s and causing their cocks to grind against each other. He could feel a wetness smearing against their bellies, similar to the wetness Richie was spreading between his fingers. He watched as Richie’s hand disappeared behind him and then he felt the warm press of a finger at his entrance. The feeling was somewhat familiar; Eddie had fingered himself countless times before, he wasn’t new to pleasuring his prostate. But this was the first time anyone else had ever touched him there. It was difficult not to focus in on every small sensation, to not grind up against Richie like a virgin being touched for the first time. Richie teased the pad of his finger around his rim and unsurprisingly, Eddie fluttered in response. He could hear Richie’s laugh reverberating in his chest where Eddie laid his head. He closed his eyes and spread his legs a bit wider, silently ushering Richie to continue. The first slip inside was uncomfortable. It always is, no matter how turned on you are, but it was also euphoric in a way Eddie was never able to make it for himself. Richie’s fingers were thinner than Eddie’s, but significantly longer, and soon enough Richie was already in to his knuckle. Eddie breathed steadily, allowing his body to get used to the intrusion. Richie followed his queue, stilling for a moment until Eddie nodded minutely against him, signaling him to continue. The next finger wasn’t too much harder than the first, and soon the discomfort ebbed away to make room for pleasure. Richie worked his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch Eddie open as much as possible before a third was added. It felt way better than Eddie had ever imagined it would. Richie’s fingers weren’t clumsy or unsure like Eddie would have thought, they were precise with their pressure and quick to find the spots that made Eddie melt. He went at the perfect pace, allowing Eddie his time to adjust but not waiting too long to lose their momentum. Arousal bubbled hot in Eddie’s stomach, searing his skin at every spot where they were connected. His breathing had become labored, and his hips had begun their own little rotation where he ground himself down into Richie. Every time he did, he felt Richie’s cock twitching against his, eager to escape the slot between them and burry itself inside Eddie. And in that moment, Eddie wanted that more than anything. “Fuck me, now.” Eddie demanded breathily, holding no more space for patience. “You sure you’re ready?” Richie checked, his own breath seeming to stutter. Eddie whined indignantly, raising himself up on shaky knees and grabbing both of Richie’s wrists. He pulled them away, deft fingers slipping out of him easily and falling to the pillow beside Richie’s head where Eddie pinned them. “Now.” Eddie repeated, grinding his ass against Richie’s cock and coating it with lube. “I’m gonna die here and it’s gonna be the happiest day of my life.” Richie rushed out, eyes squeezed shut and face flushed a blotchy red. Eddie removed one hand and reached down to grasp Richie’s cock, marveling once again at its size. He was sure he was going to feel a stretch, but he craved it at this point. With determination and just a little too much arousal for rational thought, Eddie lined himself up and began sinking down. The stretch was… a lot. Eddie let out a pained whimper as Richie’s head breached his rim, and suddenly there were hands all over him, cradling his face, petting his hair, steadying his hips. “Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Richie rushed to comfort him, kissing the spot between Eddie’s eyebrows where he hadn’t realized he’d furrowed them. “We can stop at any point. You want to stop?” Eddie was stubborn, he knew this about himself. He was aware that his stubbornness had gotten him into trouble in the past, but it had also earned him some of the best moments of his life. He didn’t want to end this prematurely and look back on his first time with remorse, but he also didn’t exactly want to rip his asshole open on a high school ski trip. Eddie decided he just needed a minute, so he shook his head and told Richie as much. Richie continued to rub his back, his hair, anywhere his nervous hands could settle. He seemed on such high alert Eddie wasn't sure how his dick wasn't flagging. Eddie winced as Richie inched down the bed carefully, lying himself flatter and pulling Eddie back down to his chest. Eddie closed his eyes and focused on Richie’s heartbeat, feeling Richie moving above him but paying it no mind. He jumped in surprise when Richie’s hand joined his dick, but his body relaxed instantaneously as he felt those soft fingers begin to massage extra lube around his rim. As the seconds passed Eddie could feel himself opening up under Richie’s touch, his muscles relaxing and his temperature rising. Richie was clearly feeling the heat himself, as he’d started to rock his hips gently beneath Eddie’s. The action was gentle, inching him further into Eddie in torturously small increments but not pushing him past his limits. It was beginning to drive Eddie crazy as his craving for more became overpowering, all the pain from before having subsided. Without warning, Eddie pushed himself back on Richie’s cock, feeling his fingers flutter around his hole at the sudden movement. He was quick to use his hand to steady himself at the base of his cock, holding it still for Eddie to fuck back on. Richie let out an elongated breath, swearing profusely at the end of it. It made Eddie blush and move faster, his hips taking on a rhythm of their own. Eddie was on cloud fucking nine. His body lit up like a live wire, electrifying him with every move he made. Richie appeared to be just as affected, his mouth stuck open in an orgasmic ‘o’, his eyes practically rolled back into his skull. Richie had been quick to match Eddie’s pace, thrusting up into him feverously, hands clamped on to Eddie's hip as tightly as Eddie was clamping around his cock. "You're so fucking huge." Eddie moaned, the statement coming out honestly despite sounding like a script from a bad porno. "Holy shit, you can't say stuff like that or I'm gonna blow my load." Richie responded, chest heaving. "I'm serious, it feels like I'm being split open, god Rich." "That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Richie's thrusts were speeding up, becoming more erratic. Eddie almost felt like he was riding a bull, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt not to be bucked off. "Then shut me up." The response was instantaneous. Richie flipped them over, pressing Eddie into the mattress as he pounded into him mercilessly. He brought one hand up to Eddie's mouth and shoved two fingers against his tongue, forcing Eddie to suck on the digits. Eddie gagged on them like he would Richie's cock, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth and mixing with the tears that had escaped without notice. He was completely fucked out, his brain unable to process anything besides Richie. "I'm gonna cum." Richie warned, his orgasm approaching rapidly after being so on edge for so long. Eddie didn't mind, his own release not far behind. "Cum inside me, please, want to feel you." Eddie begged, unaware of his desire until it was suspended right in front of him. "Fuck, unnnf- god, Eddie." Richie said his name like a prayer, bringing his hand up to stroke Eddie's neglected cock. The sensation was downright sinful, the best thing Eddie thinks he's ever felt in his entire life. It caused his toes to curl, most of the muscles in his body seizing up at the pleasure. Richie's hips stuttered a few times and then he was overwhelmed with a warmth deep inside him, Richie's cock pushing through it to press diligently into his prostate. Eddie came with blinding lights in his eyes, his body convulsing as waves upon waves of euphoria flooded his senses. He's pretty sure he screams, but he could have been completely silent and it would have sounded the same to his deaf ears. Eddie's not sure how long he lays there in fucked out bliss, his mind completely separate from his body, but when he finally tunes back into the world around him he's alone in the bed. He looks around to find Richie and spots him crouched on the ground by the fireplace, tinkering with the button to light it up. Electric flames suddenly burst alive behind Richie's silhouette, highlighting his long legs as he stretches back up and turns to regard Eddie. "Hey." His voice is gentle, not quite a whisper but close enough to one that the greeting still felt secretive. "Hi." Eddie matches his tone, his throat appreciating the low register after being abused not too long ago. "I thought I lost you there for a minute." Richie crawled back into bed, pulling the thick duvet over them. "I think you did." Eddie admitted sheepishly. "That was fucking... wow." Richie laughed at the advanced vocabulary Eddie was able to implement at that moment. "Wow is right." Richie agreed, welcoming Eddie as he crowded into his space. The silence fell upon them naturally, their bodies and minds too exhausted to bother with much else. It was a long while until Eddie pipped back up. “Was that your first time?” Eddie asked quietly, his eyes having drifted closed from the comfort of being satiated in such a new way. “Mm-mm.” Richie answered carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “First time was with Ally Mae Espin. It was a mess.” Eddie hummed for Richie to continue, too content to respond vocally. “It was in Bill’s garage in 8th grade. It lasted exactly two minutes and neither of us finished. I had blue balls for the rest of the night, but honestly, I didn’t even care. I’d realized as soon as we’d kissed that I wasn’t into her the way she was into me. I don’t regret it, but as far as first times it’s pretty anticlimactic. Literally.” Eddie giggled, nuzzling closer into Richie’s warmth. He felt fuzzy all over, invincible to the evils of the outside world. He thinks he could probably survive an avalanche right now, completely safe inside Richie’s arms. “What about you? How was your first time porking the hog?” Eddie scrunched his nose in disgust, peering up at Richie judgingly. “First of all, ew. Don’t ever call it that again. And also… this was my first time.” Richie’s eyes widened a fraction, an unreadable but unmistakable softness within them. “Shit, Eds. I wish you’d have told me, I would have at least tried to perform better.” Predictably, Richie was trying to hide his vulnerability with humor. Also predictably, Eddie could see right through it. “It was perfect. You were perfect.” Richie seemed to gnaw on the inside of his cheek, so Eddie continued. “Ten out of ten, would pork again.” That earned a surprised laugh from Richie, and Eddie considered his mission accomplished. He could work on Richie’s insecurities more later, but for now, at least he knew Eddie didn’t regret what had happened. They fell back into another stretch of silence, the crackle of the fireplace background noise to their steady breathing. Eddie had almost fallen asleep when Richie spoke again. “Did you always know you wanted to be a mechanic when you were younger?” It took a moment for Eddie to fully re-inhabit his body, wondering why his slumber had been interrupted for such a random question. “Huh?” “You know, kids are so indecisive. One minute it's 'I'm gonna be a doctor' the next it's 'I'm gonna be an alien superstar princess'. Did little Eddie have lots of dream jobs or was it always a mechanic?” Eddie took a moment to think, having to dig through all of the expectations and responsibilities that had piled on top of him over time, shielding his passions and replacing them with pragmatic plans for the future. "I always wanted to be a mechanic. Actually, I even wanted to open my own garage when I grew up." Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to continue. "My dad was a mechanic. I learned a lot just from watching him, and then when he passed away I continued learning under a guy named Isaac, until mom decided it was too messy and too dangerous for me to be in the shop. I always believed I would grow up, open my own place where my mom couldn't ban me from being, and name it after my dad." Richie's face fell at the mention of Eddie's dad's death and he cursed himself for bringing it up. People always felt uncomfortable at the mention of death, and even though Eddie had long since accepted that his dad was gone, he always had to suffer through people’s weird grief reactions that, more often than not, made him feel worse. However a few moments passed and Richie still hadn't said anything, so Eddie braved a look upwards. "What's your favorite car?" Eddie was taken aback, already in the process of mentally preparing himself to field the same old questions he'd long since memorized his answers to. He blinked a few times, a smile creeping up on him without his permission. Richie continued to surprise him at every turn, and Eddie was absolutely giddy about it. "You're gonna make fun of me." Eddie sighed, infinitely grateful for Richie somehow always knowing exactly what to say and when not to say. "I absolutely will." Richie nodded. "1966 Volkswagen Type 2." Richie seemed to contemplate it, nodding slowly before bursting into a side splitting smile and letting a little laugh go. "You’re right, that's hilarious." Eddie laughed along, but still slapped his chest playfully to at least act offended. He snuggled in closer, settling his head on Richie’s chest. "It's just that the hippie lifestyle doesn't exactly match the Eddie Kaspbrak I've grown to know and lo-" Richie cut himself off just as Eddie's heart skipped, both of them falling silent for a moment before Richie cleared his throat and marched onwards, his own heart beating rapidly in Eddie's ear. "I'd have guessed you were a smart car kinda guy." "Why? Cause I'm small?" Eddie challenged, trying (and failing) to return his heart rate back to normal. "Yeah. Small, compact, can fit a surprising amount in its backseat." Richie moved his hand down from where he'd been rubbing circles into Eddie's lower back and tapped one of his cheeks. "Careful! I'm still tender." Eddie pouted, unknowingly looking far too cute for Richie's fragile sanity. Richie kissed the top of Eddie's head and Eddie kissed him back between his collarbones, absolutely smitten with the way Richie handled him. "I like the freedom of it." Eddie admitted, picking the conversation back up. "I've always felt trapped in this town, it's comforting to think of owning something that can take me anywhere." “Technically anything with two wheels can accomplish that.” Richie pointed out. “Yeah, but with a van I don’t have to worry about where I’m gonna sleep. I can live out of it for as long as it takes me to get to my destination.” “Where is your destination?” “New York.” Eddie answered automatically, surprising the both of them. Richie’s arms tightened around Eddie, erratic laughter falling from his lips. “EDDIE!!!” “WHAT!?” Eddie was being jostled now, Richie’s happiness contagious even though Eddie had no idea what was happening. “NEW YORK IS MY DREAM!” Eddie finally connected the dots, realizing a little late what that meant. If Eddie wanted to move to New York, and Richie wanted to move to New York, then they could theoretically move to New York together. The notion made Eddie’s belly do flips. “Oh, yeah, I guess that is kind of perfect huh?” Eddie answered, far more bashful than he'd expected himself to sound. “We can get a little apartment downtown where you can open your own garage and I can work at whatever coffee shop will hire me while I practice my standup routine on the weekends! We'll be a dynamic duo, running the streets of New York together. It’s FATE!” Eddie couldn’t deny that it did feel like something cosmic was at play. Richie was this boisterous, loud, chaotic puzzle piece that somehow fit perfectly into the slot on Eddie’s board. He pushed Eddie’s boundaries, encouraged him to challenge his world and rethink the ways he’d been taught to live. Being around him was invigorating, but it also felt like home. Eddie realized with terrifying clarity that he didn’t want to spend another day without Richie in his life. He couldn’t fathom how he’d done so before; looking back felt like watching a black and white film in contrast to the technicolor movie magic he was living in now. Richie had lit up a spot in Eddie’s life that he hadn’t even realized had been dark before. Eddie trailed his hand up Richie’s chest and found the back of his neck, tilting his head down to face Eddie. He moved slow, bringing their faces close together so their lips barely touched. Richie’s skin was soft, his lips plump and inviting as they trembled beneath Eddie’s. They breathed each other in as Eddie nosed at Richie, watching as his eyes fluttered closed and his brain took a backseat. Eddie hummed a nearly imperceptible laugh and finally slotted their lips together, lingering in place for just a second before parting. It was teasing, but not in the sense of arousal. Eddie left Richie with a million thoughts on his mind and nothing but big brown eyes as answers. “I think I passed out for a second there.” Richie breathed shakily, effected in exactly the way Eddie’d intended. “You’re going to take me to New York one day.” Eddie decided aloud. Richie was all shy smiles, dipping his head low to try and hide his blush. “I sure fucking hope so.” Richie responded quietly, looking back up at Eddie through inky curls. Eddie pushed his hair to the side, tucking it behind Richie’s ear and letting his hand fall back down to his chest. “You will.” They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms with thoughts of the future fueling their dreams. Eddie knew that nothing was guaranteed. Two days can’t rewrite your whole life, and once they left the resort and re-entered Derry, he was sure that all the expectations and pressure he’d superseded were going to come back full force. But somehow, he felt more prepared to face them. They didn’t hold the same weight as they once had, because now Eddie knew he had a whole world outside of the one his mother had built for him to exist within. That world might just be Richie Tozier, but it was a thousand times bigger and brighter than the solitude he’d lived in before. For once, Eddie was excited to live.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie lemon #my posts #my writing #OTEOAA

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years

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Humans are weird: Never enough time

Taken from the information scroll “Humans: Sages of our Time” by Rivrind Pios.

The often excepted portrayal of humanity is one of greedy bipeds with no sense of reasoning beyond their own personal wants and needs. I must confess that this notion is rather fitting for most humans as many I have encountered in my travels had been in the process of pursuing their own dreams and ambitions at the time and appeared almost blindsided to the world around them.

Their seemingly endless need for excess seems to be their key driving factor. More food, more wealth, more power, more clothing, more hair, more muscles, more and more and more on and on for an eternity. Nothing ever appears to satisfying the teeming throngs of manlings until they are buried deep beneath the soil where they want no more. Countless worlds have been left in ruin by this rabid hunger for more to the point many species consider humans to be nothing more than a blight upon the very stars themselves. I myself began harboring such ideas of humans for some time as nothing I had seen in my journeys had shown me otherwise. It wasn’t until I came across one of the strangest humans I’ve ever met in the city of Shanghai on the human home world that finally gave me greater clarity to the inner workings of humans.

I had been exploring the south eastern hemisphere of the world and found myself wandering the streets of Shanghai. It’s history of a rich trade city was clearly visible as it had been upgraded into a massive star port taking hundreds of craft in daily. While waiting for a layover to the north western hemisphere I found myself wandering the streets of the bustling city.

The city was a maze of catwalks, boulevards, parks, back alleys, side streets, and market places. Several times I found myself accosted by other humans while wandering the avenues, though many soon lost heart and fled after I revealed my many rows of teeth. It seemed humans were not fond of many mouths and many teeth for some reason.

While exploring I smelled something so delicious it had me enthralled from the moment I inhaled that delectable scent. Keenly I tracked down the aroma through several alleys and back streets, down three sub levels, and passed four cordoned checks before arriving at a neat little hole in the wall food dispensary called “Athens of the East”

The inside was dimly lit with assorted rows of tables and chairs lining the walls. In the center of the room was a massive sandbox like ring where two humans were currently punching each other violently while the humans at the tables cheering and whooped.

At first I found myself deeply confused as to why such a barbaric establishment would have such divine food smells coming from it until I noticed the tables with plates of food still on them. to say the morsels looked delicious was an understatement so I put aside my confusion about the entertainment and waved a waitress to sit me.

To my displeasure it appeared that every table was occupied and I would have to wait as the crowds cheered again as one of the fighters took a punch to the face and went sprawling to the sand. I was just about to leave when one of the patrons at a table waved to me. They kicked a chair opposite them from beneath the table and waved for me to come join them.

I had heard tales of humans luring unsuspecting fools to their graves and was first hesitant to accept the offer, but the human sitting at the table merely explained it was bad taste to eat alone and wanted to have some company. I was still cautious but the smell of the foods made it impossible to pass on such a chance and so I joined the human at their table.

They were an elderly human going on some 80-90 years if I was to guess; nothing but a younger species considering I lived to be roughly 3000 years old before my species passed on. Their clothes were of a fine material but i could see that they had been worn regularly and their hairs had turns a shade of greyish white. The elderly human was of the talking variety and seemed rather happy to be having company and chatted up a storm. I was not in as much of a talkative mode yet felt it rude after they had shared their table so I joined the conversations when I had something to say.

It turned out that we were more alike then I had first imagined as they too were a traveler seeking new destinations, They had been to most of the human cities on their homeworld and now were waiting to catch a flight to the Hive homeworld thirty three systems over. Their flight had been delayed for several days now due to gravitational storms and they had come to here to let off some steam. I was going to inquire as to what exactly that meant when one of the fighters in the ring had been knocked down and was unable to get up. The cheers of the crowd were silenced as another human stepped forwarded and asked if there was anyone brave enough to challenge the surviving champion.

To my complete surprise the elderly human I had been sharing the table with rose up and unbuttoned his shirt. He left it on his chair and stepped forward into the ring. The announcer backed away and rang the bell and the two fought each other. The elderly man was not what one would call in the prime of his life, what with his belly sagging forward like a sack of lumpa berries, but his muscles were toned well enough to keep the fight far from being one sided. The bout lasted about twenty minutes before the elderly man, now covered in bruises, threw a hard right and knocked his opponent to the ground and won. He returned to his chair shortly after the crowds cheers had died down and resume his drinking and food consumption.

I asked him why would committing combat let off steam to which he replied that he was angry that his flight had been delayed so long and that fighting a stranger in some back alley dive had always been a wish he’d had since he was a young scrapper. Perplexed I inquired again how a delayed flight transitions to brutal combat. The Hive world wasn’t going anywhere and would still be there when the flights resumed.

The elderly man sat in silence for some time, his stare focused on the swirling ice cubes of his drink as he rocked it back and forth. He told me that he was dying and that his time among the living was dwindling day by day. He had a disease called “cancer” that was slowly devouring his body from the inside out like rot and soon he would be too ill even to lift himself out of a bed let alone fight someone in a back alley fighting ring.

It was unusual to feel sad for someone you have just met and yet I felt pain knowing my new companion would soon pass off their physical remains. I apologized to him and gave him my well wishes too which they oddly laughed and waved me away like I had just knocked over their glass and thought it was the end of the world.

He thanked me but said he did not want my pity nor my sorrow. I asked him why then if he was dying that he would take such a journey off world with such little time remaining. He took a swish of his drink and waved for another as he told me it had always been one of his wishes to see another world.

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment and his eyes narrowed out. He spoke of many things he had wanted to do when he was younger. Buy a boat, go fishing every day, ask his schooling crush out for a dance, traverse the globe with friends. He told me of how something would always come up at the last second that would hold him back and his chance would pass him by. How many missed opportunities had passed him by that only now in his old age did he see.

He chuckled to himself and said how he wished he could live forever, or at the very least a few more years, so he could finally check everything off his list as he took another sim of his drink.

Now that he was old it seemed like all he had was time until he found out his clock was ticking faster to his demise then he had planned. Now he wished to achieve what dreams he could before his clock finally stopped.

To this day I’m not sure if it was their words or the combination of drink and food I had been having but in an instant my entire perspective of humanity had shifted.

We spoke for some time more together until my notifier alerted me that my flight was now on schedule. I stood up and shook the hand of the strange human as they turned their back to me and entered the ring once more. I pondered what I had learned from the odd man as I took the streets back upwards to the space port.

Humans apparent greed and carelessness was not in a self centered manner for some, but rather born from a fear of knowing constantly that their existence would eventually come to an end.

For a being such as myself with an extended lifetime I do not feel this need as much, but with short lived species like humans it must be a constant cloud circling them ever reminding them that what they miss today may be missed forever.

It was only after I reached the the top level of the city with my mind circling with ideas of missed opportunities that I realized something. For all the stranger had shared to me, for all the stories and laugh had in that dimly lit food dispensary, for all the kindness they had shown me I had made a fatal mistake.

I had never asked them their name.

I had missed my opportunity......

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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theomengirl · 4 years

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hey this may be slightly strange but could i have levi with twin boys where one of them gets constantly picked it and made fun of and the other gets into fights all the time (probably with whoever was making fun of his brother) and how levi deals with those two? thank you so much!!

Thank you anon for such a lovely request and no, it’s not strange! The scene where Eren plays hero everytime Armin gets picked on instantly crosses my mind when i read your req lol. I’m sorry this took quite a while but i hope you’d like it! ❤️

- Troublemakers -

scenario: Levi got his hands full dealing with the twins

The troublemakers are at it again.

You could tell the moment when they got home. Fynn, who has bruises on his face, made his way inside while holding his brother younger by two minutes, Albie’s hand in his tight grip. The latter’s face was flat as he let himself being dragged inside the house by his brother.

You hurriedly approached and sat them down on the sofa. Holding an ice pack you got from the fridge, you started to apply it to the older one’s cheek in hopes the swelling will reduce, he hissed as soon as the cold towel made contact with his skin. Your other free hand grabbed another wet towel and used it to clean Albie’s face off of dirt, luckily he’s not wounded.

You took a deep breath before you speak while switching your glances between the two. “Now, who wants to talk first?”

“He meddled with my fight!” Fynn immediately pointed his finger at Albie. The accused one remained unbothered, taking the towel from your hand.

“Is that true, Albie?” you asked.

“He’d be turned into a pulp if i hadn’t intervened,” he said, cleaning himself up with the towel.

Fynn irked at the answer, his eyes were shooting lasers. “What?”

He stared at his brother. “You’re weak. I had to beat those guys for you or else, you won’t survive. You can’t even throw a punch at them everytime they push and insult you. It’s the fact, face it already.”

“I don’t need your pity,” Fynn’s blood boils.

“I wasn’t pitying you.”

He couldn’t contain his anger as he was about to get physical with Albie, but you get between the twins and stopped him before things become messier.

“Enough, you two!” you yelled. “Fynn, go to your room and keep on applying the ice pack. Albie, watch your words and apologize to your brother.”

The twins glared at each other. Heavy tension filled the household.

“I wish you’d never been born,” Fynn said coldly. He stood up and went upstairs to his room.

Not long after, Albie also headed to his room at the second floor as he doesn’t want to bump at the idiot on the stairs. You could hear him muttered it also sucks to have you as a brother as he walked off.

You plopped yourself down on the sofa. It really is hard. You always knew there’ll be fights between them but you didn’t expect it’d occur frequently. Did you and Levi’s parenting somehow went wrong?

The twins actually share their parents’ personalities. Fynn takes after you. He’s hot-tempered and easily rattled, he says what’s on his mind and a bit melancholic. In contrary with Albie who’s more like Levi. He’s laid-back and calm, but often gets salty and sarcastic.

Ever since they were born, they’ve always been treated equally by you and Levi. Setting up clear family rules, carefully looking after each child’s needs, coaching them how to get along well. Even both of you and Levi never get into a heated argument in front of the kids as it would set a bad example. So, what made them hostile towards each other?

You shook your head in frustration and head to your husband’s study room.

~~~~~

Levi heard someone knocking on his door.

“It’s me.”

“Come in.”

He noticed your troubled face as soon as you came in. “I bet it’s the brats again.”

You nodded hopelessly. You bent your body a little low and wrapped your hands around Levi’s neck while he remain seated, smelling his cologne. He instructed you to sit on his lap, working on the reports for hours has surely taken its toll on his body and he needs his wife to relieve it off of him, but he must deal with the two not-so-little-anymore Ackermans first.

You told him about what just happened as he strokes your hair. He clicked his tongue as he perceived the story.

“You go rest. I’ll call you once i finish teaching those kids some manners.”

~~~~~

First stop; Fynn’s room.

He was curled up on the bed, his back facing the door. He turned around at the sound of door creaking and frowned at his father’s visit.

“What’s with that face? Not happy to see your old man?”

He avoided Levi’s gaze. “What is it?”

Fynn offered some space on the bed for Levi to sit. Levi begins his attempt to reunite the brats twins. “Mind telling me what really happened everytime you guys bicker?” he emphasized on the word.

Now that he realized it, they never actually told their parents what was the sole reason of their fight.

Fynn was reluctant, but he finally spoke. “Those kids said i’m a failure as an Ackerman.”

Levi was about to go on rampage when he heard his kid is being insulted.

“I never got better whenever we train in combat. I didn’t agree with their statement so i challenged them, but...” he started to sniff. “b-but Albie always gets in the way and it gets worse for me. They told me i’m not cut out to be the son of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier because i’m such a wimp, only Albie does because he’s a natural like you, Dad. I hate him for that and his cockiness,” he ended his sentence and bawled his eyes out.

Levi quickly embraced his older son. He patted his bum. “Oi, those fuck- those guys are wrong on so many levels. What do they know about you? Tch. That’s fine if you can’t keep up with what i taught you. It’s all part of learning and i won’t ever get tired of teaching you until you excel by yourself. Albie, he did that to protect you. Once you become better, pay him back by protecting him too. Brothers are all about protecting each other, haven’t i told you that, brat?” Fynn looked up to face his father and nodded.

“And one more thing, Fynn Ackerman, your Mom and I are beyond proud of what you’ve become. Never underestimate yourself because you’re our biggest pride.”

He ruffled his son’s hair and he smiled widely. Now, let’s hear what the other has to say.

~~~~~

Second stop; Albie’s room.

He glanced as soon as Levi entered the room.

“Oi, Dad.”

“Don’t oi-ed your father, you brat.”

He grinned. This kid’s legit got his traits.

Levi sat beside him and asked the same question. To his surprise, Albie was really chill, unlike Fynn.

“Well... i don’t even know myself,” he scratched the back of his head. “He always goes about how i’m such a show-off or cocky. I saved his ass-“

“Language,” Levi warned.

He flustered. “Sorry, Dad. I saved him because he couldn’t do it by himself, was that wrong? Would he prefer to be beaten up instead? He should’ve realized that it’s not about pride whatsoever. You said that we should be there for each other, i only did what you told me. Also, those kids don’t know a damn- sorry, nothing about our Dad but that idiot let it got to him. Geez,” he stopped his rants.

Albie has a point. Maybe it’s only a matter of misunderstanding between the two. Fynn was hurt by strangers’ words and feels inferior. Albie on the other hand, is somehow shows natural skills when it comes to training and he prioritizes logic over emotions, that’s why he couldn’t relate. Levi decided to just get the facts straight between them and it will all turn out good.

“Guess i don’t have to worry that much about you. You’re fine as it is,” he let out a sigh of relieve. “But hey, do something about your sarcastic tone and don’t be so hard on your brother, okay?”

Albie raised an eyebrow. “Is it wrong? Mom said i’m a carbon copy of you-“

“Yeah, you are,” he made a mess of his son’s hair. “Anyhow, don’t forget that your Mom and I are the luckiest to have you in our lives. Got that?”

“Are you acting sweet now, Dad?”

Levi looked at him in disbelief. Did he just get teased at by his own son?

“Let’s talk it out between you two brothers and you’re not going anywhere until you two made up. After that, let’s do something to cheer your Mom up.”

~~~~~

You woke up to someone showers you with kisses all over your face, maybe not just one person?

You opened your eyes, slowly adjusting to the lights after your nap. There, you saw them. The twins and Levi -who was holding a tray, hovering around you. You noticed the tray was full with food.

“What’s this? Dinner in bed?” you chuckled.

“Sorry for making a scene, Mom,” Fynn said, glued to your left arm.

“Me too, Mom,” Albie was on your right arm.

Your mouth formed an ‘O’. “Is this your way of saying sorry, then? By spoiling me?”

“It was Dad’s idea, but he made us do the work.”

“Oi, how dare you guys take credits,” Levi complained.

You giggled at the sight happening before you. Maybe you would ask Levi later about how he tamed the twins, but for now you just want to enjoy some quality time with your family. You reached out your arms to hug Fynn and Albie, your two sweethearts, realizing that they’ve gotten quite big.

“You’re forgetting someone.”

Levi put down the tray and snuggled his body to your arms, not wanting to lose to his kids.

Again, Levi Ackerman got A+ for parenting.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #i stan dad! levi

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twilitty · 3 years

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

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