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usedtobecooler · 1 year

Note

Sorry I keep blowing up your inbox w virgin Eddie thots. I just have so many. 😓 latest since I’m currently suffering: Virgin Eddie + period sex

do not say sorry cause this had me feeling some type of way and it's given me inspo for the first time in a few days!!

part one // part two // part three // part four

pairing | eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), period sex, mentions of tampon removal, eddie taking care of reader, eddie being endearing (when is he not), dirty talk, lots of fluff and reader being nice to eddie, reader also kind of snarks at him for being annoying, eddie professing his love for reader, no use of y/n. i think that's it? possibly. maybe.

word count | 3.6k

a/n | i made this way fluffier than any of my past stuff so this is really off brand for me. i'm also currently suffering on shark week and i'm definitely in my feelings about it so that probably explains it. reader is softer than her usual self here which gives eddie time for his more dominant, carer side to shine. hope u all love it.

You'd been doubled over on your chair all day, not even your heat pack and strongest pain killers were relieving your cramps. Everything hurt, everything ached, and you were being exceptionally snarky (even by your own standards) for no reason.

It was quiet in the store, a weird Tuesday where the weather was putting off anybody from stepping foot out of their house. Misty, grey, dull and wet. A bit like you were feeling yourself, almost like the sky knew you weren't on top form and was sympathizing with you.

Eddie was whistling along to whatever crap he'd put on the store's boom box; in the back of your mind, you think it's Motley Crue but you can't even find it in you to tune into the song enough to make it out properly.

You felt anxious, every little noise creeping into your ears and booming loud, making you feel like your head was about to explode. You hated to admit it, but Eddie's voice in particular was grating on you, every time he opened his mouth you wanted to snark at him, tell him to shut the fuck up.

You were trying your best to block him out before you blew up at him, twirling in your chair a little for comfort whilst you redundantly pressed the useless heat pack closer to your aching tummy, when he suddenly jumps out of nowhere at your side and starts doing the air guitar to a particularly loud and annoying solo.

"Eddie, shut the fuck up. You're driving me up the fucking wall." You snap, voice stern, angry, gruff, and it makes him stop in his tracks, looking crestfallen. You'd usually feel bad, but not today. He'd been pushing your buttons since you opened up, albeit he wasn't doing anything wrong and wasn't meaning to upset you, but your temper was short, and he wasn't getting the fucking hint.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck absentmindedly, big puppy dog eyes looking apologetic and sad, "M'sorry, sweetheart. I know you're not feeling good, I was just tryin' to make you laugh."

Your face softens a little, the guilt creeping in as you look at Eddie's sad features, "I'm sorry, handsome. I'm just exhausted these cramps are wiping me out." You sigh, groaning a little as your tummy coils up unpleasantly, radiating pain throughout your belly, back and legs.

Eddie comes over to lean over the counter, rubbing at your shoulder softly, and you melt into the touch, tense body slackening under his fingertips, "You know, I read in a girly magazine-" Eddie cuts himself off, like he's pondering on if he should actually continue on his sentence, you egg him on by nodding your head, "it was in the doctor's office, okay?"

"Hey, I never said anything." You hold your hands up in self-defense, giggling a little and trying to ignore how Eddie's inner brat jumps out as he rolls his eyes and lets his hand fall from your shoulder. You make a show of pouting until his hand comes back out, this time brushing down your arm.

"Anyway, in this girly magazine there was this article, about how to relieve menstrual cramps..." Eddie cringes at himself, screwing his face up at his wording and you laugh properly then, "Apparently, orgasms are the best way to relieve the pain. Something about the hormones it releases."

You balk at him a little, dumbfounded by the fact that he, for one, chose that article out of all of the pages in a women's magazine. And, for two, that he actually took in what the article said and stored it somewhere in the back of his head, almost like a mental note for if this were to ever happen.

He furrows his brows at you, "Is that- is that not right?" He asks, cocking his head a little, tips of his fingers still brushing your arm absentmindedly, "I thought since it was in a girly mag it'd be true."

"No, I mean I think it's true, I've heard that before." You shrug, trying to ignore the ache in your back at a particularly strong cramp, "But I don't really like to touch myself when I'm on my period. I'm usually too sore to focus and it makes a mess."

"Well," Eddie starts, cheeks flushing dark and his breath shaking, "I'd be more than... more than happy to help you with that. If y'want."

You suck your cheeks in, looking at him with narrowed eyes for a second before they soften, and you're pretty sure if he looked at you properly, he'd see the love hearts swirling round in your irises, "You're the sweetest boy I've ever met, Eddie Munson. Don't feel like you have to do that, though, I've gone like at least ten years on my period and am yet to do that."

"I'd like to," Eddie cuts in all too quickly, and now you wonder if he's doing this for your sake or his own morbid curiosity, though you suspect it's somehow both, "I'd like to help you feel better, that is. I don't - I don't mind the mess."

"Well, okay then." You shrug, trying to ignore the way that your thighs clench a little at the thought of Eddie touching you whilst you're menstruating. It was never something you'd thought about before, but now that Eddie had said about it, you wondered just how much you'd actually be into it.

"We can go to my place, uh, Wayne's gone until tomorrow, took a double shift for the extra money." Eddie rambles, like he has to justify every single detail to you. It's cute, endearing almost.

You nod your head in reply, subtly drifting your eyes to the clock and realizing there were still four hours left until closing. You couldn't help but wish the time away.

***

Eddie ushers you into the trailer slowly, a hand hovering over your lower back in a soothing motion, "You can go to my room and make yourself at home, sweetheart. I'll go get some, like, towels or something?"

"Towels should work, handsome. I don't think it's bad enough to justify a tarp." You say it as a joke as you toe your Docs off, but Eddie's eyes widen comically, "It was a joke. Though a tarp would be easier to clean."

You saunter off through to Eddie's room, sliding a comic book off of his desk and plopping down on the bed. You have no interest in it as you flip through the pages, tummy doing flips for two reasons now - your obvious cramps, but also the nervousness of what was about to happen.

You? Nervous? This never happened. You and Eddie had only had actual sex once, but you were in control, in a situation you'd been in plenty before. You showed him the ropes and took charge, that was your comfort zone. This was... different.

There's no more time to worry and ponder when Eddie comes bursting through the door carrying an array of things he thought you might need. Pain killers, a bottle of water, two towels and what looked like one of his oversized, ratty Metallica shirts.

Your heart melted a little. Eddie was just so, so sweet. You couldn't believe nobody had snatched him up before now, he was caring and attentive to you, albeit a bit fumbly and nervous but you think that's just because of how you are towards him.

He had the biggest heart. To match his dick.

"D'you need these before we start?" Eddie asks quietly, pulling you out of your trance and shaking the bottle of pills at you. You can tell he's nervous too, his breathing all jagged and his hand holding the pills jittering enough for you to notice.

"No, no, that's okay. I took a few before we left the store so they should start kicking in soon. Hand me the towels, would ya?" You lift yourself up off the bed, gently plucking the towels from Eddie's open arm. You strip his comforter out of the way in silence, laying the towels flat and spreading them out as well as you could. His twin bed was small enough that it covered just fine, but you spent extra time focusing on it and trying to block out the pounding in your ears.

Eddie's warm hands on the base of your spine jolt you out of your thinking, you melt into the touch slightly and lean back against his chest. He huffs into your hair, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, sweetheart. Was just a suggestion."

"I'm just used to knowing everything and showing you the ropes. I dunno how to do any of this and I'm worried I'll gross you out." You say it matter of factly, making sure that as always you have the upper hand in showing him that you don't panic and you're always in control.

"S'not gonna gross me out, it's you. What if we... what if we did this in the shower instead? Would that make you feel better?" Eddie suggests, voice barely above a whisper and a clear nervousness breaking through. He's worried you're going to say no, you can tell.

You don't want his second time to be messy in a shower. But you make note of it for another time, now that you knew that was something he was clearly into.

You turn in his arms, shaking your head and nudging up to press your lips to his softly, just a brief kiss. But, Eddie grabs hold of your waist gently, deepening the kiss and forcing you to stay in place when you went to move away.

He's still not a good kisser, you make a mental note of that. He's still sloppy and giving too much tongue but you can't help but suck on it, causing a moan to escape him as he nudges you back towards the end of the bed until the backs of your knees knock on it. You fall backwards with a small thump and Eddie's lips never leave yours as you shuffle up the bed, until your head is cushioned by his one lonely pillow.

"What do you want me to do?" Eddie asks gently once your lips part, soothing your hip with his big hand. You keen into the touch, loving the feeling of how soft his hand was, unwinding how tight you felt with nerves.

"You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do, pretty boy." You start, and Eddie's eyebrows furrow at you, "You can finger me, if you wanna? You can just stick to rubbing my clit, though."

Eddie doesn't humor you with a reply, simply tucking his fingers under the waistband of your leggings to drag them down your legs and off in one swift motion. You raise a brow as he goes to strip his jeans off as well, leaving him in a pair of tight black boxers which you swear you've never seen him wear before.

They leave nothing to the imagination - you sit up on your forearms for a better look at his half hard cock already straining a little. You catch it kicking up in interest as you stare at it with wide eyes.

"Theyre - they're new." Eddie stutters over his words, flushing a dark shade of red and there's the Eddie you know all too well, all flustered and embarrassed.

"They look great, Eddie." You say with a strained voice, gasping as he slides back onto the bed and in between your spread thighs, only your respective underwear and shirts blocking your touch. "I still have a tampon in so that I, like, don't leak everywhere."

Eddie slides his palm over your hot cunt, eliciting another small gasp from you. It makes you feel, well, weird. And kind of dirty. But he doesn't seem to care, as his fingers pull the material of your panties to the side and he dips the tips in between your folds, seeking out the tampon string.

"Can I take it out?" He asks, eyes wide in earnest as if he doesn't realize how strange and weird of a request it is. You cringe a little, falling onto your back so you don't have to look at him whilst you nod your head yes.

It's not like you to be so mortified by something so normal, always one to not be a priss and try anything at least once. This just makes you feel vulnerable, and Eddie is so inexperienced that it makes you question if he knows that this isn't necessarily 'normal' to do during sex.

You throw your forearm over your eyes and squeeze them shut as you feel Eddie's fingers grab the string and tug your tampon out gently, then the telltale sign of him lifting off the mattress, clearly leaving to dispose of it.

His footsteps come back quickly; you feel the bed dip as he gets back onto it and snug back in between your spread legs. Then, you gasp as he runs two fingers back in between your folds, this time to slide them through and gather some slickness.

You let your arm fall from your face, plucking up the courage to finally look back at him and he's smiling with this dumb look on his face. It makes your cunt clench around nothing - you didn't realize through all your nervousness that you were clearly into this, slick mixing in with your menstrual blood to make things extra wet.

Eddie doesn't seem to care about the blood at all, swirling his fingers around like you'd previously taught him to, finally catching them on your clit and rubbing in slow circles. He leans over the top of you, mouth against your neck to press a sweet kiss, "Does this feel good?"

You nod your head, shivering at the feeling of his breath on your soft skin, goosebumps blooming down your arms. He probably didn't mean for his words to sound dirty, but they did, made you flush warm with want for him.

His fingers slip through the mixture of fluids with ease, rubbing relentlessly on your clit until you're a whining, shaking mess under him. Somehow, this feels more intense than it ever has before, and you can't tell if that's because of you being on your period, Eddie taking the lead or a mixture of both.

"E-Eddie," You choke, hips jolting up of their own accord, a loud whine escaping your lips, suddenly you're aware of how submissive you're being but you can't find it in you to care, "f-feels so good, Eddie."

"Yeah?" He asks, fingers rubbing at your clit with purpose, clearly trying to get you there and it's working, "Y'gonna come?"

Eddie can sound so dirty without even trying and you feel your cunt clench, can feel your warm fluids dripping down your ass, pooling there and probably making such a mess. It shouldn't be as hot as it is, you shouldn't be as turned on as you are, but it feels so dirty and Eddie loves it more than you do and it's making your brain short circuit.

You nod your head, squeezing your eyes shut but Eddie's free hand grips at your jaw, shaking your head a little until your eyes reopen to see him staring at you intently, "Look at me whilst I finger you, sweetheart. Wanna see you come undone on my hands."

You gasp, the coil in your belly tightening at Eddie's vulgar words, the loud slick sounds of your cunt being violated by his hands filling the air and engulfing all of your senses. Your mouth opens in a soundless moan and Eddie sees that as an opportunity to shove his thumb in your mouth.

"Suck on it." He says it like it's casual and like he's told you to do it before, the way you obey and immediately begin licking and sucking at his calloused fingertip makes you question yourself, but then his fingertips dig into your cheeks a little rough and any thought leaves your brain.

Your body feels like a livewire, tummy tensing up impossibly tighter. You're looking into Eddie's glassy dark eyes, his puffy pink lips open slightly as he stares you down, feeling every catch and drag of his fingers on your clit and you're a goner. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you're biting down gently on Eddie's thumb, moaning and squeezing your eyes tight as you come so hard you see stars.

"That's my girl." Eddie grins, rubbing your clit slowly as he works you through it, not stopping until you're trying to clench your legs shut from oversensitivity.

You open your eyes again just in time to catch him wiping his fingers on the towel below you, a creamy dark pink colour staining the grey fabric. You're still trying to catch your breath, can feel your shirt clinging to your back with sweat.

You grab Eddie by the front of his own shirt and pull him down to kiss you, all needy as you gasp into his open mouth, tongue lapping in to drag against his own.

Eddie moans, shuddering against you as his hands roam up under your shirt, soothing the hot, damp skin under his fingertips. You slide your own hand down his torso, grabbing at a handful of his hard cock through his boxers and squeezing until he bucked into your hand with a whine.

You're honestly surprised he didn't come in his pants again, it seemed to be a running theme with him. Not that you minded, you liked having that power over him.

"Can I..." Eddie breathes into your mouth, cut off with another groan as you attacked his neck, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, "Can I fuck you?"

You nod into his neck, hands deftly sliding over the waistband of his boxers, blindly tugging them down his thighs as you continued your assaults on his pale skin.

You grab a hold of his cock by the base when it springs out of his underwear, giving it a few quick tugs for good measure, which has Eddie shivering and almost collapsing on top of you. You slide the wet head of his dick in between your folds, shuddering at the wet sounds as it catches on your entrance.

Eddie has no patience and shoves his hips forward, sliding into you with ease. He grips at your hips tightly, sucking in a shaky breath as he bottoms out, "Jesus, you're so fucking wet."

You clench around his cock at his words and he positively mewls, pulling out a little and thrusting back into you, eyes tearing away from you to look down at where your bodies meet, the absolute mess you're both making. He's so mesmerized, watching how your cunt sucks him in so well with every thrust, "Your pussy is so greedy."

It tumbles out like word vomit, but there's no embarrassment in Eddie's eyes when yours fly open to look at him, watch him looking at your cunt with hearts in his eyes. You cry out, hips bucking of their own accord as his thrusts pick up, finally gaining a good rhythm and abusing your gspot with ease.

"Harder, Eddie, please," You gasp, tears pricking at your eyes as he doubles down his efforts and leans over you, fucking into you harder, faster than before. His curls are matted to his forehead, this wild look on his face as you lean up to brush his hair back, fingers gripping into it at the crown of his head so your foreheads are touching, "You're so fucking pretty like this."

Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, grinning like the Cheshire cat, "Don't say that, I'm gonna come." He grits his teeth, hips beginning to falter and stutter.

Your soft spot is being abused by his cock, grazing at it with every thrust and you too feel your orgasm impending on you, "Come with me then. Come in my wet pussy."

Eddie whimpers, that in turn makes your cunt throb around him and he's shoving his cock into you so hard you move up the bed a little, the slick sounds invading your senses and making you clench sporadically until you're coming with a loud shout of his name.

"Fuckfuckfuck, god you're so tight, fuck." Eddie's babbling nonsense, clearly struggling at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in so well, then he's coming too, hips stilling as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

You watch him in awe, you don't think you'll ever get fed up of watching him come undone inside of you the way that he does. He's so perfect it makes you feel like you're suffocating every time you look at him.

He collapses down on top of you, breathing heavily as you pet his hair gently, soothing him quietly, "I think I'm in love with you, fuck."

"I'm in love with me too." You say jokily, trying to hide the way your words come out panicky, though you're sure Eddie can hear your heart going a million miles an hour under his head.

Eddie barks out a laugh into your chest, snuggling up a little, "You'll say it back eventually." He shrugs, nonchalantly like he could care less that you brushed off his confession.

Little did he know how much you'd been in love with him from the day you set your eyes on him. But that was a conversation for another day.

"Yeah, yeah. We need to get up before these towels stain your bed." You giggle, "That was... perfect, by the way. Thank you for always taking such good care of me."

"So long as your cramps are a bit better." Eddie sighs sleepily, snuggling into you a little more. You lie there a bit longer before you're shoving him out of the bed to clean up, worried he'd fall asleep in the mess.

If you followed him into the shower and sucked his cock clean later, then nobody needed to know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #my fanfic #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #virgin!eddie #virgin!eddie munson

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sweetenerobert · 4 months

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖

DAY FOUR OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

oberyn martell x male!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, MINORS DNI, modern au

prompt: cuckhold au + "i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together." "crawl to me"

summary: trying to think of ways to get back at your boyfriend for cheating on you; the result is you having sex with your nemesis, oberyn martell, in front of him

warnings: infidelity, cocky!oberyn, breeding kink, dirty talking, fingering, edging, mild praising kink, male masturbation, use of a vibrator, unprotected p in a, oral sex, spitting, handjob, cuckolding kink! (forced cuckholding ;)), no use of y/n

word count: 5.0k

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a/n: dividers by @saradika

a/n: I FORGOT ABOUT THIS! SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! SCHOOL TOOK OVER MY LIFE, consider this a Christmas gift, that's been in my drafts for months

The noises played in your head like a neverending record. The moans, the yelps. The squeaking, your boyfriend’s voice – all those noises played in your head. You came home early from work, noticed your boyfriend was also home, and didn’t think of it. That’s when you went upstairs and made a dreadful discovery. You saw your boyfriend fucking someone else – a woman, in your bed. And you hated yourself that you stayed at your door, knowing that it would make your stomach churn and twist with each moan escaping her lips.

You’d left right before your boyfriend had cum – not wanting to bear with that, you went and acted like you weren’t there. You had driven to your favorite coffee shop and ordered a coffee, and you’d been sitting next to the large floor-to-ceiling window ever since. You often kept glancing at other people and noticing groups of friends and couples, and you wanted to cry; seeing the couples reminded you a lot of you and your boyfriend until your gaze landed on Oberyn Martell.

You and Oberyn weren’t the closest bunch – you practically despised him, and he enjoyed making your life hell on earth at work. The both of you worked together, and you loved your job but despised Oberyn – and hated that stupid nickname he gave you: Dove.

You drove your gaze back to the window, hoping he didn’t see you. Your curiosity got the best of you as you slowly glanced toward Oberyn’s position, and you saw him glancing at you – quickly looking back at the window, shaking your leg, hoping he didn’t see you.

Once you heard a chair screech in front of you, you knew it was undeniably Oberyn sitting in front of you. You could feel his penetrable gaze traveling on you. This feeling of sadness turned into a feeling of annoyance, and you were ready to thrash at Oberyn.

You could hear an exhale escape Oberyn’s lips, and you just wanted to bash his skull in with the coffee mug in front of you. “Hey, Dove, fancy meeting you in a place like this.”

“Fuck off,” You spat.

Oberyn whistles. “Feisty, aren’t we, dove?”

“I’m not in the mood to play Oberyn. I’ve had a rough day,” You announced.

Obeyn crosses his leg to rest on his other leg as he studies you. He could see your face written with distress and sadness written all over it. Something had made you look the way you did, and he didn't know about it.

“What’s wrong, Dove?”

“You, you're bothering me when I want to be alone,” You exclaimed loudly. Noticing people had turned their heads, looking back at you and Oberyn.

“Please, just leave me alone.”

Oberyn had a scowl slowly coming on his face; his jaw had tightened. You’ve never seen Oberyn mad before — he’d enjoy making you annoyed, but you’ve never really been angry.

“What happened.” it came out more of a statement from Oberyn than a question — a command more than concern.

“And you care because?” You question, turning your head to him.

“Anything that makes my dove mad doesn't deserve to live.” His tone made a chill travel down your spine, and your heart stop for a split second. You didn't want to answer him. If anything, you wanted Oberyn to leave and forget he ever saw you here. But, you knew he was persistent, and he wouldn't go anytime soon unless you told him what happened.

“It’s been like ten minutes, and I’m already going to tell the person I hate the most my business,” You huff a breath as you rub your hand across your forehead.

You slide your hand from your forehead — connecting with your thigh, making a twahp sound on impact.

“I’ve been having a rough afternoon,” You shrug. “Came home to find the supposed love of my life, fucking some woman, and you know what sucks? I stayed.” Oberyn looks shocked by your statement but doesn’t show it. “Yeah, I stayed and listened to everything. Did I get off on it? Hell no. I hated everything. I left before it could get any worse.”

You intertwine your fingers — a knuckle placed on the tip of your nose. A sniffle escapes your nose, reminding yourself of the terrible events that happened minutes prior. Your tear ducts felt heavy, and your nose felt congested. A tear slid down your cheek as you placed your palms on the table, and your head felt heavy.

Glancing at the wooden table, you felt your head get picked up — seeing Oberyn's finger pick your head, and you could see the concern on his face; his thumb wipes the tear slowly crawling down your face.

"Dove, you shouldn't cry over someone like that. You shouldn't cry at all. You're too perfect.” “Oberyn smirks, caressing your cheek. You slowly push Oberyn’s hand away from you and glance at the window again, trying to avoid any eye contact with Oberyn.

“Dove, look at me.”

You shook your head like a stubborn child. “Dove, I need you to look at me so you can listen to what I will say.”

“I can listen to you like this.” You shrug.

Oberyn was getting annoyed now — which would’ve been the first time, only if you saw his face. Oberyn fixes his legs to be next to each other and outstretches one of them to reach you. His foot made contact with your crotch — rubbing his foot along the print in your pants. You yelped in retaliation — looking at Oberyn. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention, and now that I have it. I need to ask you something.” Oberyn states, placing his legs in their original position.

You cross your arms and huff a breath. “What?”

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he obviously can't get away with this.”

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” You question.

“I don't know, kick him out?” You shrug. “It's the only thing I can think of.”

“That’s all?” Oberyn questions.

“You can come up with the most creative insults you can throw at me, but when it comes to your scumbag boyfriend, you’re fucked?”

“Well, what do you have in mind, evil genius?”

“I’ve heard the best way to get over someone is to get under someone,” Oberyn smirks.

You shoot an eyebrow up and look at Oberyn with an annoyed look.

“Is that what you want me to do? Sleep with someone to get back at him? What is this, high school?”

“Not just anyone.”

“Then, who do you suggest?” You shrug and cross your arms.

Oberyn points at himself with a smug look on his face. You look at him with an annoyed look on your face. “Please tell me you’re kidding,” You spat.

“C’mom, I’m the best option.”

“Ethan, the homeless guy down the street, is a better option than you.”

“You know me—” Oberyn started.

“I despise you — and I hear the stories about you; you're a player — a playboy. I shouldn't get involved with someone like that.”

You’ve been aware of Oberyn’s “activities” for a while, ever since one of your Co-workers ranted about him to you — one of the many reasons you hate him. He was known for leaving people hanging after quote, “giving them the night of their life.” It frankly made you want to barf hearing anything involving having sex with Oberyn.

“Look, you’re one of the last people I want to hurt, but I want to see this scumbag crumble, knowing he lost someone as perfect as you.” Oberyn started.

You couldn't tell if he was messing with you or being genuinely serious, but all you knew was heat rose to your face.

“But, I promise. I won't hurt you. I want to see your ex suffer a little bit.”

“You promise this will work?” You question.

Oberyn places a hand over his heart. “Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

“Hopefully,” You scoff.

“But, you have to give me a week.”

“Give you a week for what?” You asked.

“Ah Ah Ah, it's a surprise,” Oberyn smirks.

“I hate surprises,” You grumble, crossing your arms.

“C’mom dove. You’ll like this one.”

“One week,” you firmly spoke. “That’s all I’m giving you.”

“Splendid, That’s all I need, dove,” Oberyn winks.

You essentially had to act like you still loved your ex-boyfriend: every talk, every hug, every kiss, and every interaction you had, you had to pretend like you cared. When, in reality, you wanted nothing to do with him.

And Oberyn was being more secretive than his usual outgoing personality. It often made your skin cold thinking about it. Oberyn was never closed off or reserved — always outgoing even when work needed to be accomplished; he always had time to talk or flirt with someone.

The end of the week had come faster than expected. It made you uneasy but also ready for anything. You heard a knock on your door while pacing — waiting for Oberyn. Your breathing became rushed and nervous.

As you opened the door, an exhale became longer than you expected. Seeing Oberyn wearing a long chestnut-colored lapel coat.

"Surprised to see me, dove?"

"Yes, I thought my "boyfriend" came home earlier than expected," You breathed.

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard that —" Oberyn started.

"Oberyn," You insisted.

"Kidding, can't take a joke, can you, dove?"

You step to the side to let Oberyn in. He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "I'm about to trust you with something so vulnerable about myself, so no, I can't take a joke."

Oberyn turns to look at you and rests his hands on your shoulders. "Dove, with me, you don't have to be afraid. Your body's a temple that I'm going to respect. Don't be scared."

"What do you think I'm going to do to you?" Oberyn questions, taking his hands off your shoulders and on his hips.

You took a breath, looked at the floor, and then up at Oberyn. "With him, he treated sex like a mission to complete — a side quest before returning to the main story. But with that girl, it was like she was something important, and I don't want to feel that way again." you find yourself looking back at the floor, a tear building in your tear duct.

Oberyn lifts your chin with his finger and plants his lips on top of yours. The kiss was soft, and the feeling of Oberyn's lips on yours made your body fire up — a feeling you've never felt with your boyfriend. Backing his head from yours — finger still on your chin, a smirk on his face. "Too stunned for words, dove?"

You push his hand off your chin. "No!" You exclaim, a wave of heat rushing to your face. "You don't have that power over me."

This rush of energy was coursing through your body like a drug; you yearned for more of it.

“So, where is the bedroom, sweetheart?” Oberyn asks.

You don't answer his question and walk towards your room. Opening your room door and seeing the bed made your anger boil — for the moment. Your boyfriend made it, and you find it as a sign that everything is normal — when, in reality, it isn't.

“Quaint, your boyfriend got a drawer?”

You point the nightstand next to the bed. Oberyn takes his jacket off and places it on the foot of the bed. He drops to his knees in front of the nightstand and opens the top drawer.

“What are you doing?” You question.

“All cheating assholes have something to hide. You aren't the least bit curious?”

“No, why would I be—” You start; as you thought about it, you somehow found yourself on your knees next to Oberyn. “I get top, you get bottom.” You state.

“I’m usually the top, but you know, there is a first time for everything.”

“I will punch you in the face if you keep these innuendos up.”

Oberyn laughs as you shove him. “Let’s get to searching.”

You open the top drawer, trying to find anything. After pushing things around, you found nothing worth explaining, closing the top drawer and looking at Oberyn. “Your turn,” You shrug.

Opening the bottom drawer, you back up and stand up to your feet, lying on the wall far away from him. Your eyes travel to see Oberyn bending down and his pants accentuating his rear end. You were tempted to whistle and compliment Oberyn.

“You like what you see, Dove?”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” You admit.

“It's a nice ass, thanks for noticing,” Oberyn smiles.

“It’s a little hard not to notice. Is that what girls from the office are after from you?” You question.

“Girls and guys,” Oberyn corrects. “I’m not a manwhore for just girls, Dove.”

“Well, I didn't know that,” You shrug.

“A lot of people don't know I swing for both teams.”

“You learn something new every day,” You mutter.

A thud made you look at Oberyn as he pulled a box out of the drawer. You question the image you see on the box as Oberyn just sneers. “Is that a—?”

“A vibrator? Yes, Dove. It is,” Oberyn nods.

“Why would he have—?”

“Oh shit. Do you think my ex’s used it on that girl?”

Oberyn shakes his head. “The tape’s still on it. Meaning: hasn't been opened, or he’s waiting to use it.”

Hearing that a vibrator hidden in your ex’s nightstand drawer hasn't been used was a huge relief for you in a certain way. Oberyn holds the box as he has an idea and then looks at you. “Should we use it?” Oberyn asks.

“What? I wouldn’t even know what to do with that.”

“Let me do all the work, Dove.”

“What would you even do?” You state, crossing your arms.

“That’s a surprise, but first,” Oberyn States, walking towards you. “I need you to get on your knees.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes wanted to pop out of your head after hearing those four words. ‘get on your knees.’ Something about hearing those words made you want to fumble on your words but be mad at the same time.

“Make me,” You smirk.

Oberyn smashes his lips against yours in a hungry kiss — surprising you. Your teeth almost clash, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand slowly trails down your chest to your bulge. It felt hard under Oberyn’s palm — betraying your hatred for him and weakening your knees.

Your knees dented the wood under you as you broke the kiss. You see Oberyn smirking and walking to the foot of your bed — placing the box on the mattress. Seeing him slip his shoes off, hearing his belt unbuckle being undone, and seeing his pants slide off. You notice that Oberyn wasn't wearing any underwear. Your face would've exploded if you didn't contain yourself.

Seeing Oberyn's cock made you feel like you were in an out-of-body experience. It felt like you were shocked but didn't show it. Watching Oberyn sit at the edge of your bed, wags his pointer finger towards you — arching his finger towards him.

"Crawl to me," Oberyn commanded.

Your body had a mind as you placed your hands on the floor and slowly crawled toward Oberyn. A more giant smirk appeared on Oberyn's face as he saw you crawl closer to him. "Such a good boy, dove," Oberyn muttered.

Your face was close to Oberyn's shaft — covering your face. You wanted to make Oberyn shiver, make him feel a way you've never seen him before. Placing your tongue on his shaft, bringing your tongue to his tip and back to your mouth.

You watch Oberyn release a breath — sounding like a whistle. "Such a tease, dove."

You hoist yourself off your hands and look at Oberyn — winking at him before you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, quickly retracting away from him. Watching his hips buckle forward, you can't help but sneer. "Desperate for my mouth, Oberyn?"

"You know what you're doing, dove. It's written all over your face," Oberyn grumbled. "So why don't you do something about it," Your question sounded more of a sarcastic comment. Oberyn takes notice of that. Tracing his hand on your cheek — thumb trailing your bottom lip. "We're going to whip that attitude of yours into shape."

Holding your face, Oberyn leads your mouth towards his cock. A long exhale leaves his lips as your mouth goes down his shaft — agonizing slowly. You pick your head up as you bring your hand to the base of Oberyn’s cock and start stroking his dick as you bring your head up and down.

Oberyn leaned on his elbows and enjoyed the pleasure your mouth brought him. Apart from Oberyn being secretive for the past week. He hadn’t jerked off and slept with anyone, so the build-up of cum had been stored in his balls for the week, and Oberyn was ready to burst.

“Baby, you're so fucking perfect. I don't know what is wrong with that dumb ass.”

Removing your hands, you start to go down deeper on Oberyn’s cock as you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Clenching his teeth together, his moans escaping his throat — through his teeth like water.

“Baby— Ah— your mouth has a grip. I could cum fucking your face right here.”

“Why don't you then?” You ask, stroking his cock. You have a one-sided grin on your face. With inhuman speed, Oberyn picks you up to your feet — planting his lips on yours as your hands find the back of his neck. The hatred between you and Oberyn vanished in this moment. His hands explored your body as he touched your pants button — undoing them and sliding your pants past your feet. “Get on the bed, Dove.”

You complied with Oberyn. Your bare knees make contact with the mattress; you watch Oberyn grab the vibrator and take it out of its package. He held the device in his hand, hitting the button. Oberyn watched it vibrate in his hand.

“Asshole already put the batteries in. Bad for him, good for us.” Oberyn crawls after you, his face close to your cock. It twitches against his breath against it. “Has he made you cum before, dove?”

You reluctantly shake your head. "Like I said, there is a first time for everything," Oberyn snickers as he lowers the vibrator on your cock. Once you made contact, your eyes snapped shut, and you arched your back and fists towards you. Oberyn places a firm palm on your navel, forcing you to stop moving. "No squirming, dove." His firm demeanor sent shivers down your spine and made your cock twitch in anticipation of what was coming.

You heard your front door close, and your eyes snapped open. You attempted to move, but Obeyrn's hand on your navel prevented you from getting up. "Ah, Ah, Ah, dove. Where do you think you're going?" "He's back. We should stop." Oberyn looked at you with annoyance. "Do you think that asswipe cared whenever you came home?"

"But, Oberyn —"

"Let me make you feel a way you haven't experienced before."

Your breathing hitched as you looked at Oberyn. "How would you make me feel?" You gritted. "Happy, loved, wanted, cared for, everything someone as perfect as you should experience."

You calmed yourself — eyes drawn away from the door and closed. Feeling yourself grip the sheets — your moans intertwining together with your breathing. You felt as if you were about to cum, and that's when you heard your bedroom door squeal open.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” You heard Issac, your “boyfriend’s” bellowing voice. You kept your eyes shut so you didn't see Oberyn turn his head.

“Ah, just the guy I’ve been wanting to see. How are you doing?” Oberyn asks. In your head, you were laughing, but in reality, you were trying so hard not to cum right now.

“How am I doing?” Issac repeats. “How do you think I feel seeing some guy — pantsless next to my boyfriend’s dick?”

Hearing Issac emphasize that he’s your boyfriend made you want to punch him in the face; you would’ve — if your legs didn't feel like jelly. Spiritually Oberyn could feel your anger rising to your cock as it shifted for a split second.

“I don't know, dove, how should your cheating-asshole boyfriend feel knowing you're feeling more pleasure than ever before?” Oberyn smirked.

“Cheating? DOVE?” Issac exclaimed. You could see Issac’s eyes pop out in your head, and when you heard his tone.

“He -hould feel fucking dumb,” You gritted. You brought your arms resting above your head as you felt yourself about to cum any second.

“I should beat your ass for putting dumb thoughts in my boyfriend's head, man — and overall being anywhere near him.”

“But you’re not.”

“And why is that?” Issac asks, cocky.

“Because you’re going to go through my jacket and see the Manila folder and its contents inside, you're going to sit yourself down in that seat in the corner and watch me fuck the hell out of your boyfriend and cum deep inside him that I get him pregnant.”

You slowly open your eyes and see Oberyn smirking at you and Issac looking shell-shocked by what he just heard. And being honest, you were shocked yourself.

“I would do what he says. He can be pretty convincing,” You breathe. Oberyn smirks.

You turn your head — eyes strained from closing them. Issac rummages through Oberyn’s coat and sees the Manila folder he quietly dreaded. Sitting in the corner, he opened it, and the look on his face made it seem he got caught in a big lie. “Do you want to tell him, or should I? I don't mind either,” Oberyn shrugs.

“How did you get these?” Issac seethed.

“Okay,” Oberyn starts, ignoring the question. “Dove, what he’s looking at are photographs of himself and the girl he’s been cheating on you with — going on dates, going out, the whole nine yards.”

You wanted to scream, but the pleasure Oberyn delivered you on a silver platter brought you into overdrive, so you stayed mute.

“Fuck, Obeyrn. Your intense,” You spoke between clenched teeth.

“You close, baby?”

You nod. “I’m about to cum,” You exclaimed.

Your body wanted to give way, just to feel the immense pleasure you've yearned for.

Until Oberyn retracted the vibrator away from you, you looked like a deer in headlights while Oberyn had a shit-eating grin on his face. “W-what are you doing?”

Oberyn shrugs and looks at you. “Making you squirm.” His hands are firm against your inner thighs — feeling his nails press into you, his mouth slips onto your cock, and you arch your back in satisfaction. With Oberyn's mouth going slow on your cock, a rush came through your entire body. On the brink of cumming -- Oberyn cupping your balls in his hand, you wanted your cum to shoot down his throat.

Bearing your teeth, you grip the sheets again, glancing at Issac. He was pissed, but that made you want to cum even harder. "Hurt, doesn't it? Watching the love of your life enjoy someone else."

"Baby, it didn't mean--"

"Save it," You sucked in a breath. "Save it for someone who cares."

"Fuck, Oberyn. I'm close."

Oberyn takes his mouth off your cock; you watch your cock twitch on your navel, seeing precum leak from the tip. "Can I please cum, Oberyn? Please, it feels so good." You beg.

Oberyn shakes his head. "Not yet, baby.” Oberyn looks around and sees the look of despair written on Issac’s face — Oberyn’s cock twitching in retaliation. “Don’t be sad, Issac. Come on, sit right next to your boyfriend, and you’ll feel all better,” Oberyn smirked.

“Fuck off,” Issac spat.

Oberyn sucks in an inhale through his teeth and tsks at Issac. “Come on, don't be a poor sport; go ahead,” Oberyn nods to the open spot.

Issac reluctantly gets up and sits next to you. The look on his face read anger but was hidden by despair underneath it all. He was mad at you and Oberyn but angry and sad at himself.

“Come on, we don't have to do this. I mean, you already made your point with this whole “show” you’re putting on,” Issac argues.

“Oh, then I must haven't made it more explicit,” Oberyn nods.

Oberyn slides the tip of his cock slowly inside you. A sharp exhale. “Fuck, Oberyn. You could’ve warned me,” You groaned.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Your hands dig into Oberyn’s shoulders, making crescent moons etched onto his skin. His thrusts start slow and gradually pick up the pace. Your moans bounce off your bedroom walls. “You like hearing those moans, Issac? Having to hear them off someone else cock?” Oberyn breathes.

Issac can't help but stare at your face with each pump Oberyn was pushing into you. He knows that enjoying each thrust Oberyn delivers. Issac couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or sad at the moment.

“C’mon, you love that cock, don't you, Dove.” Oberyn grunts.

You nod, snapping your eyes shut again. “Fuck, Yes. I love it so much, You whine.

“Your cock is so fucking amazing.”

“That’s it, dove.”

“You see, Issac, this is how you treat art. You treat it with the love and respect it deserves.”

Hearing Oberyn refer to you as art made your cock dribble with precum. Inhaling a breath through your teeth. Oberyn’s hips quicken, and you can't help but snap your eyes open.

“Ugh! Fuck! Oberyn! You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn't if you said that to praise Oberyn or piss off Issav, but overall, you were stating the truth. You haven't felt this good during sex in such a long time. Oberyn loved the moans, the yelps, and the cries that escaped your mouth.

Oberyn’s hands slide on your cheek as he trails your bottom lip with his thumb. Looking into your eyes, he plants his lips onto yours as his thrusts start to slow down, and your nostrils breathe out air of relief.

As Oberyn backs up from your face, he looks up to Issac, seeing the sadness ride his face but then quickly to anger as he sees Oberyn’s face staring at him.

“Dove,” Oberyn breathes, backing his hips from you. “Turn around for me, I want to see that perfect ass.”

You happily obliged as you got on all fours, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. His cock pressed up into your ass, but you could also feel it lift off of you. Oberyn spits again, and this time you don't pay any attention to it until you feel Oberyn’s cock gently glide in. You take a long, deep breath in.

“Damn, dove, I can barely fit it in,” Oberyn growled. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Oberyn’s cock was slowly and brutally stretching you out, relishing every inch of your insides. Oberyn’s thrust began slowly as his thighs slammed into your ass, but his hips had other ideas. Oberyn’s gradual thrusts grew more intense, yet you were smitten with the whole thing. Your moans would not stay on your lips, and as you advanced, Oberyn’s cock would slip out of you with every clap.

“Fuck, you’re intense, Oberyn,” You breathe.

“You haven't seen nothing yet, dove.” Oberyn teases you by sliding his cock between your ass cheeks. "You want this dick... right, dove?" Oberyn sneers, looking at Issac.

“You want your worst enemy to get you pregnant?”

You nod your head, almost begging for Oberyn to fuck you. “Yes, I do.” Oberyn notices your begging tone as he shrugs his shoulders and slides his cock inside you.

Oberyn’s thrusts get hotter, more powerful, and more animalistic. It was like something that you never experienced in ever. Your enemy making you feel this way and letting you enjoy the moment with him was something you didn't know you needed.

"I can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together,” Oberyn grunts, glancing at Isaac shooting a wink.

"Damn, Oberyn. I'm about to cum,” You ignored Oberyn’s statement.

"Cum for me, dove," it sounded like a command more than a statement. Your cock throbs, and you exclaim your moans as stings of cum hit the sheets below you.

“Fuck, Dove. I’m going to cum,” Oberyn gritted his teeth. As Oberyn’s hips keep going back and forth into you, you grip the sheets under you as you hear Oberyn’s sudden groans and feel his cum swim inside you.

“See, that’s how you treat someone as amazing as dove here.”

“I see you enjoyed your little show so why don't we —”

“Get out,” You breathe.

“What?” Issac questions.

“I want you out of my house, all your shit gone by Thursday. I never want to see you again,” You state.

Issac can't believe what he’s hearing even though he was expecting it, as he expected a slap to the face. “Where— where will I go?”

“I don't fucking care, anywhere but here.”

Issac suddenly stands up, Manila folder in his hand, and storms out of your bedroom, slamming the door.

“You okay, dove?”

You nod. “I feel great. Thank you.”

Oberyn brings his palm to his chest and acts fake shocked. “Did you just say thank you to me?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” You snapped.

Even though you were both covered in sweat, Oberyn couldn't get enough of you when his lips connected with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his hand hooks under your arm onto your chest.

“You are the best sex I’ve ever had,” Oberyn admitted.

“That needs to be on a shirt; I need that in recording.”

“You’re suchan oddity.”

“You love it,” You smile.

“Yeah, I do.”

#oberyn martell x male reader #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn nymeros martell #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal #oberyn martell smut #pedro pascal smut #bottom male reader #pedro Pascal game of thrones

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levitiquee · 7 months

Text

Promises. (Levi x reader)

"Hey."

Fingers wrapped around your arm, stopping you from mounting your horse.

"Will you be okay?"

Levi was staring at you, though his efforts of hiding his concern clear, his eyes were wide with a sort of urgency.

You turned to meet his gaze. His eyes softened when you smiled.

"Yeah." You nodded, hesitant but firm. "Yeah, I hope so."

First expedition without Levi by your side. It'd be an understatement to say you weren't scared because you were fucking terrified. But you can tell from his pursed lips and the way he was looking at you, he felt guilty. He just had to get such a shitty injury.

You didn't want to worry him more. It was probably hard enough for him to let you go out like that.

When his grip tightened, you raised your own hand to wrap it around his. More to comfort yourself than him to be honest.

"I'll be fine." You tried your best to sound confident and reassuring. "I can take care of myself, Levi."

"I didn't say you couldn't." He muttered. "I'm just—"

The sound of a whistle cut him off. That's the first signal. His grip loosened as you hastened to climb up your horse.

And though his face would appear as expressionless as usual to most, but never to you. It was easy for you to notice the growing anxiety in his eyes.

"Wait." He stopped before you could say anything. "Not yet. Just..a few more minutes."

"Levi. That's the first whistle–"

"There's two more left." His hand went over the clasps in your thighs, eyes narrowing in concentration as he tightened them. He patted it, gesturing you to let him see the other leg.

You grumbled, but swung your leg over. He was pissy when he was worried, and he'd sulk all day if you didn't let him fuss and confirm with his own hands that all will be well.

"Don't take unnecessary risks." He muttered quietly as his fingers worked. "Don't go after titans on your own. Avoid being in the rear of the group. Don't waste gas. Don't—"

"I know." You whispered, gently pulling his hand away. It was trembling, but whether that was because of your tremors or his, you didn't know. "I know."

He swallowed. "I won't be there."

"I know."

"So, don't die."

You smiled, earning a scowl from him. "No, don't just laugh." He frowned. "I'm serious. Don't die."

"Levi."

"Come back. With all your fucking limbs. You have to."

"Levi."

"I'm rambling, aren't I?" He rubbed his temple. "Why can't you just listen to me and stay here?"

"Levi." You said, voice firmer this time. He looked up. Both of you flinched when the second whistle cut through the air.

Time was running out.

Without thinking, you stretched your arm towards him, hand rolled into a fist and your little finger raised.

He stared for a second, eyes flicking from you to your hand. Then realization dawned on him and he let out a huff.

"No fucking way." He grumbled, glaring at you.

"Yes way. Or I'll be sad."

"No way."

"Why not?" You pouted. "It'll make me feel better."

"What are you? Five?" He scowled.

You wiggled your finger. "It's sacred." You said, grinning. "Don't underestimate the power of pinky promises. That's a life-worthy oath."

"Fuck no."

"Levi—"

The final whistle rang out.

He stared at you as the other soldiers started shuffling, noises filling up the space in moments.

You looked at Levi, eyes wide in alarm.

"Come on." You pleaded.

Finally, Levi caved. With his cheeks flushing, he reached out, his little finger wrapping around your own. You held on to it.

"I'll come back." You promised.

Levi only nodded quietly, looking away.

"No good luck kiss?"

"Fuck off." He said, pulling his hand away. "Don't push it, you little shit."

"That's a nice goodbye."

"It's not a goodbye. You'll come back."

He said determinedly, gaze searing through you as if seeking confirmation.

You nodded your head. "Yes." You smiled. "Promise."

He exhaled, letting out the breath in relief. His face relaxed. But he stared at you as you adjusted in your seat.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue. "Your hair's a fucking mess."

"Shame. No charming titans with my beauty then." You shrugged, taking the reins.

There was the smallest hint of a smile on Levi's mouth.

"Be safe." He muttered quietly. With one last look at him, you set off, your horse's hooves kicking up dust, leaving Levi there as he watched you leave.

Levi looked down at his hands, the feel of your touch still tingling his skin.

"She'll come back." He muttered to himself quietly.

You didn't come back.

And Levi doesn't think he'll ever believe in promises again.

Liar. Liar. Liar. He thinks. That's what you were.

Fucking liar.

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick @raginginferno267

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

scent of the pine. 1 (e.w.)

omg i finally wrote something who woulda thought gosh golly damn hey yall whos gay around here

wc;cw: 9.6k mmmm, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, so many time skips and theyre not even done yet omg, queer duh, all ocs r black coded<3, mentions of underage smoking/drinking(nics n weed obv), partying, making out, blood(it’s fake but still), all tlou kids appear including *gasp* cat, lots of ocs theyre gonna thrive in later chaps, depression, anxiety, disassociation, crack(it’s not all bad yall laugh a little!!), mentions of therapy, uh yeah just alot of sad and drama, smut in later chaps🤭🤭

You have always been surrounded by music.

When you were born, your mother quieted your screams with song, holding you close to her chest and gently whispering words of affection and love into your ears while your three-year-old sister jumped in celebration for new life.

When you were two, your mother gave you your first ever violin toy. Your sister had taken a large interest in the flute at age four, saying that the whistling noises sounded like birdies! and she wanted to give you the same exposure. It could have been sheer luck or her maternal instincts, but you quickly became attached to it. It was small and inexpensive and hardly sounded like a violin, but its bright lights and animated face near the scratched, poorly painted F-holes entranced you like no other. You couldn’t stop fiddling with the red, blue, and green buttons across the body, and every time it played the same robotic instrumental, you waved your arms around with the biggest smile on your face, like you could fly away from elation. Your sister would sometimes jump in and blow into her months old pink recorder while the instrumental played from your toy, imagining you were a part of a world-renowned orchestra: the musical harmony between the two of you brought your mother joy.

When you turned three, your mom and sister invited over some of her friends to help make cupcakes topped with musical notes for your special day. You sat on the couch with your favorite toy in hand as the instrumental played, jumping up and down on the cushion from pure excitement. Your sister’s friends kept you entertained while your mother prepared dinner, banging together pots and pans with wooden spoons and dancing, imagining them as drums. All four of them made you laugh with jokes, sang to you—one of them even played a song on one of her miniature, bright green guitars— and allowed you to experience some of the joys of life through symphonic expression.

When you were four, your mother noticed differences in your behavior. She noted that you and your sister were polar opposites: she was outspoken, unapologetic, and animated, while you were shy, polite, and timid. You hardly ever spoke unless spoken to, and though no one around you judged you for it, your mother often wondered what went on in your head. Despite your lack of communication, she never doubted the fire inside you: she saw it in your eyes whenever you watched footage of some of the most famous names in the classical world play their hearts out. When you were five, she signed you up for violin lessons.

When your big sister turned eight, she and her friends' released screams of excitement when she revealed her very first flute. She jumped in excitement, —mostly out of relief that she wouldn't have to berate you and your mom with the shrilling bleats of her old, pink recorder— shrieking about how she and her friends should start a band as soon as possible.“How the hell would a trumpet player fit in a rock band, you idiot?” You remembered your sister's best friend, Ellie, saying quietly so your mother wouldn’t hear from the kitchen, earning a playful shove from Jesse, your next-door neighbor. The dark-haired girl, Dina—who lived two houses down and had a large obsession with slapping her mother’s keyboard in the middle of the night—bursted into a fit of giggles while pointing at the young boy, making him blush.

You were always very observant of your sister's friends. You didn’t have many opportunities to make some of your own due to your incessant need to isolate, so you managed with what you had. They intrigued you: they were loud, lively, and exuberant. They never shied away from demonstrating their talents to you or your mom, especially the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl that almost always had her father’s black acoustic guitar strapped around her small frame on the three-block walk to your house. You remembered when she brought the guitar to school to play for the other students during lunch time, which landed her in after-school detention after she scolded one of her teachers for confiscating it, claiming that they were “limiting creative expression” and telling them to “screw themselves”.

When Ellie’s father, Joel, came to pick up your sister's friends from her party, Ellie jokingly pinched your side and threw you a quick see ya, squirt! while her and her two friends laughed and waved their way out of your front door. Your face ran hot as you watched them—her—leave. You didn’t get to reply before they ran down your porch in a heap of giggles. Watch the road, nuggets! I don’t have life insurance! You remembered Joel calling out to them as they sprinted across the street.

When you turned eight years old, your mother gave you your very first authentic violin and bow, the black case wrapped in glittery, floral paper. As usual, your sister and her friends grabbed and shook your shoulders out of excitement and anticipation of seeing you play since they never have, which you politely declined. You have always shied away from revealing your natural talent due to your scalding fear of embarrassment, resulting in only your mother and violin teacher knowing your abilities. You blushed as your sister, Jesse, and Dina pressed on, pleading that you play at least a couple of chords for them, causing Ellie to playfully come to your defense with a high-spirited squeal of she’s shy, you heathens! leave her be before I kick all your asses!

From that moment on, you always looked up to Ellie and her comfortability with herself. You never thought that you would meet someone more confident than your sister, but Ellie had her beat for miles. Regardless of where she was or what she did, she moved with a confidence that you only dreamt of having at that age. You wanted so desperately to mimic her, but that annoying voice of doubt never failed to remind you of your place. You made sure your light was dimmed, always.

When your sister was twelve, she began to take music very seriously. She went from two flute sessions a week to five, only to return home and play some more. She’d even performed in some of her school's recitals (she vomited across the stage during her first performance, but a victory is a victory). You watched your mother scold her about not completing her homework as she stood practicing in the living room while you silently ate your dinner, which led to her half-heartedly completing her assignments with a frown on her face. Over the next year and a half, your sister's scolding started to get more intense as her grades dropped. She was never much of a scholar, but she never let her grades slip under as much as they had then. Although her music teacher was sending her home with nothing but praises after every lesson, your mom often received letters in the mail from your sister's school saying that her performance was concerning. You’d heard your mother reprimand her countless times, saying you’re not going to survive high school like this! look at what you’re doing! while your sister claimed I know exactly what I’m doing, I want to be better! I’m following my dreams! why aren’t you proud of me? They had exchanged more harsh words until you heard your sister's door slam shut and your mothers silently resigned to her room in defeat.

You heard your sister’s cries through your shared wall for a while, until a gentle voice—Ellie’s, you recognized—consoled her and told her to calm down until her whimpers silenced. You knew she had a habit of secretly climbing up into your sister's window to hang out when your mom didn’t allow company over, but you didn’t know that she also always showed up when your sister needed another source of comfort. You slowly got up and left your room, silently walking down the hall until you reached your sister's door. You wanted to knock and see if she was okay, but before you could do so, the door opened and out walked Ellie, clad in her usual dark jeans and T-shirt, bracelets covering her wrists in mass, and dirty, scuffed chucks and socks in hand. She jumped slightly when she witnessed someone waiting behind the door, but instantly relaxed when she realized it was you.

“Hey, squirt. Why are you creepin’ behind the door like that?” She whispered with a small chuckle, gently shutting your sister’s door.

“Sorry.” You whispered back. “I heard her crying and I wanted to check on her. How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. She got a headache and fell asleep. I was just tucking her in, don’t worry.” She gently said, looking down at you. “I was just about to head out. Mind lockin’ the front door for me?”

“Why don’t you just leave out the window again?”

She snorted before she asked, “Dude, do you know how hard it is to climb down that rickety ass ladder you guys have outside? I almost broke my neck climbing down that thing in that storm last month.”

You quietly laughed alongside her while she bent down to put her socks back on. “What are you doing up anyway? It’s late and you have class tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You said, raising an accusatory brow at her. “Plus, I'm not tired, I’m bored.”

“I’m not tired”, she said mockingly. “What do you wanna do right now?”

“Don’t you have to be home soon?”

She waited a second before a mischievous smirk creeped on her face, “Yeah, but who cares. C’mon.”

She grabbed your wrist before quickly pulling you back into your room and gently shutting the door behind you. She took note of your room: pink and purple everything. Your walls were drenched in white and pink stripes with giant, iridescent, butterfly stickers, your bedspread had small specks of glitter sprinkled across it, which shimmered from your pink and green fairy lamp. You had a small tv propped up on your dresser, which was covered in fairy and Disney princess stickers, at the front of your room. She couldn’t help but snicker at the mountain of plushies that crowded your bed and nightstand. However, she halted when she noticed a small glass case that held two violins with their bows. She recognized the first one: a gift from your mother on your eighth birthday that had lost some shine, and another, much glossier and more tuned than the latter. It looked barely used. A small burst of joy exploded in her chest at the thought of you playing even though she had never seen it. She was happy to know that your love for music still lived.

“Your room’s cute, dude, it’s making my skin crawl like crazy, holy fuck,” she said with a soft laugh, leaning back against your door.

“Don’t make fun of me, you freakin' metalhead! It’s pretty in here and I like it,” you said begrudgingly, “Your room's scary!”

She let out a loud laugh before she acknowledged your glass-guarded instruments, “You still play?”

She nodded towards your protected instruments. You nodded from your bed and excitedly said, “Yeah, come sit! I never had a slumber party before!”

You spent the night quietly watching Peter Pan, gossiping about how in love you were with him and how you wished you could fly. Ellie silently watched you talk with curious, wide eyes as you went on tangent after tangent. You talked about movies you loved and boys you liked (which she playfully gagged at), and music you liked to listen to when you were sad, and she internalized all of it. She had never seen this side of you before, but she was so intrigued that she didn’t notice her own intensity in her own eyes. You just kept going and going before you abruptly stopped, the brightness in your eyes dimming slightly as you looked at her.

“Sorry for talking a lot,” you said, embarrassed. “Am I annoying?”

“‘Course not, squirt,” she said confused, but immediately. “Why the hell would you think that?”

You didn’t say anything, but her affirmation reignited the fire in your eyes as your rambles started up again. She let you talk until you sloppily fell asleep across your pillows and plushies, tv still quietly playing in the background. She gently got up from her position, careful not to wake you, pulled your blankets over your frame, and stealthily left through your sister’s window. She made her way back home, envisioning you playing your violin for her one day.

Ellie became the person that you turned to whenever you needed reassurance. She’d never failed at making you feel acknowledged and seen and heard.

Age thirteen was the first time you anticipated the summer. Middle school had been a very disconnected period for you, and though many of your peers had experienced a sense of helplessness through these trine times of adolescence, yours was slowly overtaking your ability to feel excitement for anything. You had become so detached to the world around you and that annoying, discouraging voice had only spurred on your distance. This dark state that you entered caused you to separate from everyone, including your own family. Your last day of eighth grade was the giddiest you had felt in a long time, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your place of solitude—home.

Your sister entered her element in high school. Much to your mother’s delight, she was able to find a balance between fulfilling her dreams as a musical prodigy while staying afloat academically.

You had been attending your violin lessons for eight years, and though you were blessed with your musical perception, —according to your teacher—you never played in front of an audience. Though your teacher was eager to put you in the children’s orchestra that he trained, your mother did not want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, so she'd always decline politely.

In July, Dina invited you and your sister over to a pool party. Her parents were going to be out for the weekend, and she thought that it’d be the perfect time to be reckless. When you and your sister walked in with your towels and snacks in hand, she greeted you both with an excited squeal, beckoning you both to the backyard. Ellie, Dina’s older sister, Talia, and a few older girls that you didn’t recognize, were already in the water, splashing and laughing.

“Look who just arrived, cunts! My babies, my angels, the lights of my life— “

“Ay, shut the fuck up!” the blonde-haired girl yelled with a grin, causing Dina to flip her off and the others to laugh.

You modestly held your folded towel in your hand, smiling at their interaction. Your sister had already discarded her towel, shorts, and flip flops on a random beach chair before she cannonballed into the pool, causing everyone to swear and splash her. Dina then jumped in right behind her with a shout. They all blended so well, and you curled into yourself. Maybe you should go—

“Get over here, squirt! It’s hot as fuck out here,” Ellie shouted out with a smile, before a girl in a black bikini playfully jumped on her back, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. Something unfamiliar panged in your chest, but you nodded and slipped off your flip flops before making your way over to the pool stairs, slowly submerging yourself into the water.

“You’re still calling her squirt like she’s four, cut it out already,” Dina called out with a snort before she addressed you.

“I’m not sure if your sister ever mentioned anything about these losers but they’re some friends from school, that’s Cat, Abby, and Riley,” she said and pointed them out, “and they’re really fucking annoying—

“Shut the hell up before I drown you,” said Abby with a straight face.

“Yeah, keep talking to me like that— “

“ANYWAYS,” Ellie interrupted, “We missed you kid, where ya been?”

“Just at home, nothing crazy. I’m glad to finally be out, though.” I think I’m depressed, please don’t notice.

“She’s lying, I nearly had to drag her ass outta bed by her feet to detangle her hair this morning,” your sister corrected with an over dramatic eye roll.

“I’m just tired,” you said meekly. “School was hard these past two weeks.”

“I bet it was! Literally no one ever talks about how crazy middle school is! I damn near backflipped off the stage at our promotion,” Riley commented with a head shake, making Abby aggressively nod her head in agreement.

As the side conversations continued, your attention was overtaken by Ellie, who had moved to the opposite side of the pool to whisper something into the short-haired girl’s—Cat, who hasn’t acknowledged you yet—ear, which made her giggle and half-heartedly push Ellie away. The green-eyed girl didn’t budge, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her closer and, much to your surprise, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Cat had a tight grip on Ellie’s olive-green rash guard as she held her and shared soft whispers that you wished you heard. Was that her girlfriend? you thought. You knew Ellie liked girls due to her almost two-year long crush on Riley, which she confided in you and your sister about when she was fourteen. She had wildly knocked on your sister’s window in the middle of the night with a tear-stained face, frantically pacing and claiming that something was wrong with her.

Why the fuck do I want to kiss her and hold her hand whenever I see her?

This is bad, this is really really bad, guys, something’s wrong!

What do I do, how do I stop this!

You had never seen her so defeated, and her wet cheeks and scared eyes made your chest hurt with a sharp stab. Your sister had pulled her into a tight hug and quietly hummed a tune in her ear to soothe her sobs, while you gently rubbed her back and told her that she was going to be okay. She ended up staying the night, dozing off while holding one of your sister’s stuffed animals close to her chest while the two of you held her from both sides. You and your sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since she was six.

As the party slowly died down and Talia, who snuck away to her room much earlier, beckoned everyone inside with a get outta the pool you freaks! you’re gonna prune! from the back door, you all resigned inside to rinse off and change clothes before heading to the living room to watch a scary movie. You silently smacked on your sour gummy worms on the lone lounge chair as you watched Abby, Riley, and your sister cower behind pillows to block the screen while Dina snored loudly, while Cat and Ellie snuggled on a lounge chair. She had her chin propped up on the dark-haired girl’s head to see the screen while she rubbed her back.

As the film progressed, you saw the couple making small movements out of the corner of your eye. Cat began to subtly plant soft kisses on her cheek, neck, and shoulder, causing the auburn-haired girl to smirk, moving her head to the side to give her more access. You saw Ellie pull her girlfriend’s shirt up slightly, rubbing the exposed skin on her hip. You seemed to be the only one who noticed as the girls on the other couch squealed at another jump scare. Ellie and her girlfriend shared a more intense kiss, and you saw a glistening tongue poke out. That made you avert your gaze and you blushed, embarrassed that you were catching such an intimate moment. You quickly got up with a quick excuse of I gotta pee, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Your face was boiling, and your heart pounded in your chest as you soaked your hands with icy water before wiping them down your face, that voice in the back of your head asking what the fuck your problem was.

You slowly looked up at your reflection in the mirror to center yourself, but your vision started to blur, and hands began to shake. You tried to take deep breaths; you tried you tried you tried but the air left your lungs as quickly as it entered.

Breathe, breathe breathebreathebreathe—

You jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door, and you ripped it open without hesitation, revealing a concerned Ellie, Dina, and sibling, reaching out and asking if you were okay. How long were you there? You couldn’t speak or breathe or see so you swiftly shook your head no nonono—

Ellie and your sister guided you back to the living room and onto the couch. Ellie squatted down to your eye level, grabbing your face in her warm hands while your sister rubbed your back and Dina held your hand. The other girls’ expressions had been pulled down in concern as they watched your smaller frame tremble.

“Hey squirt, can you do me a favor? Can you breathe with me?”

“Cmon, deep breath in and hold it with me, follow me okay?” Ellie instructed. Your mimicked breaths were choked and broken, but she nodded her head at you in encouragement anyway, gently whispering a that’s it every time you shakily exhaled.

All the girls remained silent but attentive, allowing Ellie to control the situation. Riley had even gone to the kitchen to snag you a glass of water that she set on the coffee table. You tried to match Ellie’s breaths with yours, holding, in and out, holding, in and out, and you eventually calmed down. There was silence for a few minutes before Dina spoke.

“How do you feel, hun? You okay to talk now?” she asked softly while gently caressing your hand. You didn’t know how to answer, so you meekly nodded your head yes.

“Tell us what’s been going on with you. You’ve been so… MIA lately,” your friend noted, cringing slightly at her choice of words.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what… what’s happening to me—

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re gonna handle it, just try to relax for now. We’re leaving in a little, anyway,” your sister comforted. You felt Ellie’s calloused fingers gently rub your knee soothingly. You just wanted to lay down.

After some more hugs and forehead smooches from Dina, you and your sister packed up your things and headed home. You weren’t aware, but Ellie met your sister’s eyes with an intense gaze, quietly instructing her before you both left, (“You need to watch her tonight, do you understand? You watch her until tomorrow and you tell your mom what happened the second you get a chance”) which she immediately agreed to.

Your sister had held your hand tightly as you both made your way to your front porch. Your sister pulled out her semiquaver keychain, unlocking the door and quietly trudged inside. Your home was dark, meaning that your mother had already been in bed. Your sister hadn’t released the tight grip of your hand the entire trek upstairs. She opened her bedroom door, silently pulling you inside and made her way over to her dresser. She gave you a giant T-shirt to change into as she put her bonnet on. You both brushed your teeth and washed your face before heading over to her bed. You laid down facing each other, tucked under the blankets. You both looked at each other in silence, but she broke it.

“I want you to tell me why that happened, no bullshit.”

You didn’t reply. You were tired.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pressed on. You noted the desperation in her eyes. Your heart was hurting.

Silence.

Her eyes shut in defeat before she turned her back to you. Your eyes burned into the worn shirt she wore. Just say it, the voice in your head screamed at you, tell her how worthless you are!

Silence.

And then an exhale.

“I think I need to talk to someone.”

You did not expect the rest of your summer to be filled with therapy sessions and journal entries. When your sister told your mother about the events of that night, much to your dismay, she immediately made some phone calls and scheduled sessions twice a week. You had to pause your violin sessions for a few weeks, and you missed it, but you knew this was more important. Your mother expressed her remorse for not paying closer attention to your behavior. Your distance, your lack of energy, your reluctance to speak, your silence—God, your silence. You were screaming without a word. She felt that she’d failed you, and she wanted to do as much as she could to reignite that light in your eyes.

You hadn’t looked forward to these meetings in the beginning, but you soon grew to like your therapist. Even though your feelings were confusing and unfamiliar to you, she was in no rush to get answers out of you. She allowed you to speak at your own pace and listened to every minor detail. She concluded that your self-doubt has bubbled over into anxiety: she recommended you journaling. She wanted you to document one thing that you loved about yourself everyday (“It can be anything: appearance, personality, talents. Whatever you wish. Just make sure you mean it”).

And so, you did.

The next month flew by, the last bits of summer slowly easing into fall, and you were going to start your first year of high school. Your mother and sister had noticed a slight change in your behavior during your break: you started eating dinner with them instead of in your room, asked how their day went, what their week looked like. Your sister would ramble about how stressed she was for her last year but also how excited she was to perform with the school’s orchestra at the December recital and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you rambled back. Your mother had listened from the kitchen as you two gossiped, argued, and even planned to play music together in the future. Her heart swelled. You also started hanging out with Dina, Ellie, Jesse, and your sister a lot more: one night, you followed them back to Joel and Ellie’s garage to watch them freestyle on some of his used instruments. Jesse, who babbled to you about his new love for drumming, demonstrated some techniques he had adapted from Joel on his old drum set while your sister nodded her head along to the beats he made. Dina was already improvising on their brand new sixty-one key keyboard, headphones on to tune out the noise the four of you were making. Ellie, who had stepped away to answer her girlfriend’s call, had her father’s bright green, electric bullet mustang strapped around her chest. She noticed you staring and sent you a thumbs up, you giving one back. She sent you a wink and a smile before turning away to continue her conversation. Your heartbeat increased.

Ellie had become much more attentive after that night at the party. She had always been protective of you, but her desire to talk to you increased tenfold. She would text you fried memes in the middle of the night or leave voice memos about how her dad was helping her customize his old electric guitar. She chattered about wanting to record the entire process for all of you to see.

i feel like if i help my dad with anything he’ll wring my neck :| he’s so particular abt instruments it’s annoying

that sucks :( but at least he cares!! he’s just passionate and wants u to play the best.

he gave it to ME tho. the guitar is mine now!! i should have some input on how it looks be on my side!!! >:/

i am!! just be patient with him. ur gonna be shredding w it soon enough :D

And she also never failed to check in on you for more serious matters, either. She never pressed for information, not wanting to overstep, but she always ensured that you had a safe space to discuss anything you wanted with her. After some of your meetings, you would already have a text from her asking how your session went and what you learned. You would send her voice memos about some of your therapist’s pointers about communication and how you were trying to improve that skill for your family, especially your mom. She also provided some advice about what helped her regain her footing in conversation, joking that no one could ever get me to shut the hell up at the end of the day! that’s for damn sure.

Ellie wasn’t aware, but you started writing about her in your journal, as well. Small, little excerpts of what you liked about her and how she made you feel. How caring she was. How she made your heart beat fast whenever she was around. How strong she felt when she pulled you in for a tight hug while whispering about how she missed you—

Oh.

You were helpless… and gay.

It was late into November. You were fourteen and elated.

Not only had you slowly eased back into music, but you had friends. That you made on your own. You knew that your sister and her friends didn’t want to drag you along everywhere they went, both on and off campus, so you began to explore other paths by yourself. Swiftly after the school year started, you joined the campus orchestra, and while you were terrified, you were excited. Impassioned. Hopeful.

There were all types of groups that passed through the practice room. Students of all grades hung out, ate, and studied there: you were shocked at the number of students that lounged in the designated nerd hotspot during their free time. This is nothing like the movies, you had thought. You noted that the room was not as busy on Thursdays during lunch, and you thought it would be a good time to tune out the outside world and throw yourself into music again. One Thursday, you walked in on a group of juniors whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t hear. You looked around and noticed one of the girls from your biology class—Arya, you remembered—pushed off into a corner by herself, on her knees and hurriedly shoving her things into her backpack. She looked upset.

She looked sad.

The juniors had been talking about her.

You had your violin case and lunch in hand as you slowly made your way past the juniors and in front of her. You noticed her tear-stained cheeks shining under the white light of the room as you got closer. You softly greeted her, making her jump and eyes harden.

“Hey, Arya, you alright?” You whispered, squatting down to her level.

“What do you think,” She whispered back harshly, continuing to shove her books into her pack. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re here to laugh you can honestly fuck off.”

You’d flinched at her tone but pressed on. “I didn’t walk all the way here to laugh at you. Let's go somewhere else, we can eat together, if you want!”

You could tell she had questioned your enthusiasm. She looked at you skeptically before looking behind you, at the juniors, and then back at you. You didn’t budge. She slowly rose to her feet, swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed her instrument case from the floor—hm, clarinet— and softly nodded. You both leaving caused the juniors to laugh harder.

You didn’t care.

You and Arya have done everything together since that day. She was eager to introduce you to her two friends, Starr and Kris, who you clicked with immediately. The second they sat you down, they raged about how much they hated the writers of Vampire Diaries due to how they treated Kat Graham, how they joked about hating talented people like you and Arya, what they wanted their future weddings to look like (Kris and her Pinterest boards), and you laughed.

You were calm.

You were happy.

Your first year of high school flew by.

Your sister earned her flute solo at the December recital, earning a standing ovation from the audience of students and parents. You and your mother screamed the loudest for her.

At Dina’s eighteenth birthday party, you, Ellie, and your sister walked in on her and Jesse tonguing each other down in the kitchen. Ellie let out a hardy laugh of are you fuckers serious! right in front of my salad? while your sister fell to the floor in hysterics. You had shielded your eyes.

April came around and so did prom season. Your sister said that she had been anticipating the event since seventh grade and you, your mom, and Dina were dragged along to her fitting. She had texted Ellie to come, but she swiftly declined, claiming that she couldn’t hide my fat dick in a dress! love you tho! buy me an elf bar? :3

You missed her so much.

On the evening of prom, your sister, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie all pitched in to rent a limo. Your sister, gorgeous as always, was draped in a strapless, floral gown that cinched her waist and bloomed at her hips and her twists were pinned up to show her neckline and back. Dina wore a flowy, black dress with a leg slit. Ellie and Jesse were dressed to a T in classic black suits, him in loafers and her in beat up Vans with her usual messy, low bun.

Your parents had all met at Joel’s house for pictures and semi-alcoholic drinks. You were touching up your sister’s makeup at Ellie’s desk in her room when you felt too familiar hands pinch your sides with a soft, hey squirt. You jumped, almost mussing up your sister’s liner, causing her to kick the hell out of Ellie’s calf. She feigned an ache before hitting her mint elf bar, blowing it away from both of your faces.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now bitch, I mean it, this is serious business,” your sister had said to her.

“Oh shut the hell up, it’s three hours of musty people dancing, it’s not that serious,” Ellie said before turning to you, “Check your sister, dude.”

“El, please shut up,” you said to her. “Just hold still, I'm almost done, god you’re both annoying!”

You worked as quickly as you could, slightly smudging the liner on her waterline until you were satisfied, “…aaaand done. Tell me how it looks right quick.”

She inspected her appearance, pressing on her baby hairs before turning and giving you a fat smooch, “Thank you baby! It’s perfect, now move, I gotta piss before we go.”

Your sister jumped up from Ellie’s chair, holding her dress up while flipping her off and lightly sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, which left you both giggling.

A bored Ellie had made her way over to her bed while you worked, laid out across it, silently puffing on her nic before saying, “I don’t know how you deal with her sometimes.”

“Me neither, honestly,” you replied, smiling. “Where’s Cat?”

“Somewhere being annoying. We had an argument last night.”

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

She sat up before shrugging, beckoning you to sit next to her in the bed, “You’re good. She felt a way about my promposal. She went off about me not putting that much effort into the sign I made and waiting until the last minute to ask. It was petty.”

You snorted with a head shake as you watched her breathe menthol out her nose.

“Don’t laugh at my shortcomings! Wait ‘til you get a boyfriend, he’s gonna forget about prom too! It’s dumb.”

You froze. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? You laughed sheepishly with another shake of your head. She noticed your reaction before you could even reply. She smirked in acknowledgement.

“… or partner. Your partner might forget.” She quietly corrected with a sly grin.

“If you say anything I’ll strangle you and burn your corpse.”

“Oh my fucking god, did you forget that I lived in the closet for almost five years straight?! You’re fine.”

She took another puff before asking, “Anybody steal your heart yet?”

“Please be serious, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. How do you even talk to girls without dying?” You said with a pout.

She almost fell over as she giggled. “You talk to girls like you talk to everyone else, you’re gonna charm them regardless. Trust me.”

You felt your face heat up at the subtle compliment, but you gave her an eye roll and light shove before your sister came trucking down the hallway with her heels in hand. She shrieked out a limo’s here! before flying down the stairs. Ellie took one more long puff of her pale green vape before tucking it into her jacket pocket, wrapping her arms around your smaller frame as she guided you downstairs.

She smelled like mint menthol and pine trees. You loved how she smelled.

Summer came, and you’d fully accepted your big, fat crush on Ellie.

Your journal had been riddled with doodles of her name surrounded by hearts and sparkles, written words of affection through poetry, more hearts and sparkles. You couldn’t stop thinking about her: everything that she said, everything she did, did something to you. But you didn’t know that the fluttering in your chest whenever she was around would be short lived.

Your sister had spent her eighteenth birthday at Cat’s family lake house. As much as you wanted to be a fly on the wall and watch your sister go crazy, you had to settle with viewing her private story from your warm bed on Friday night. It was a mess: she had posted multiple snaps of Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and herself taking shot after shot, chug after chug, until she posted a photo of Jesse’s head hanging out of a second story window with Dina’s hand on his back and Ellie cheesing wide with her two thumbs up, nic in hand. Her next snap, however, made your smile drop from your face.

The footage was a close—too close—up shot of Ellie and Cat making out against the wall. Ellie had her girlfriend trapped between her and the wood, both hands cradling her face as she dominated the kiss. She was grinding her hips up to meet the dark-haired girl’s, pressing her body further into the wall. Ellie then dropped her hands to her girlfriend’s hips, grabbing her short dress in her larger hands to pull her even closer. You barely noticed due to the shakiness of the camera, but you saw the pink glisten of your good friend's tongue swiping up into her girl's mouth before the snap ended.

You'd nearly dropped your phone on your face.

The clip had been hilarious out of context: the loud booming of clap clap clap that ass bitch, shake that cameltoe, lemme see them pussy lips! with your sister screaming and shaking like crazy in the background, Jesse behind the couple hurling his guts out of a window, and his concerned girlfriend pouting with a turquoise bong and lighter in her hand. Anyone would’ve found it comedic gold, but you?

Your stomach had twisted uncomfortably, not only from jealousy, but from a burning, swirling heat.

You dropped your phone on your bed and sat up as angry tears blurred your vision. You knew her and her girlfriend had been on and off for a while now, so why did it affect you so deeply to see them together? How stupid could you be? you thought she wanted you after all this time? a voice that you hadn’t heard in a while said to you. You’d recognized that tremor in your hands and pick-up of your heart, and you knew that you couldn’t be alone tonight. You sent a quick SOS text to your friends in the group chat, desperately seeking comfort. Arya, ever the angel, was the first to respond with a quick and simple omw rn, stealing her brother’s car keys to pick up Kris and Starr and flew straight to your house.

The girls held you while you sobbed, gently shushing you and encouraging you to take deep breaths.

Breathe with me, squirt, there ya go.

You wished that voice didn’t sound so much like hers.

Your sister and her friends had returned home Sunday night, hungover and exhausted like hell. You hadn’t moved from your bed all weekend, and you hadn’t wanted to get up to help her drag her bags in. You immediately recognized the laughter that came from downstairs, and your heart shook painfully in your chest. Their voices were muffled due to your door being shut, but you heard a cheerful I’ll go get her leave your sister’s mouth before the sound of her rushed footsteps flooded the quiet hallway.

You quickly flipped over so your back faced the door, your blanket thrown over your body as you pretended to sleep.

You heard your door open, some shuffling, before it was gently shut again. You listened to your sister shuffle back downstairs and you heard a faint she’s slumped…. tomorrow or something…

Their chatter and laughter continued into the night while you moped in your room. Your phone had pinged around eleven, a pop-up of sleep well, squirt:3 on your home screen.

You turned your phone off and threw it on your nightstand, shutting your eyes, praying for sleep to come.

You dreamt of green and pine trees.

You had begun your sophomore year, and your friends had been a good distraction from the inner turmoil of your heart. During the last bits of your vacation, Ellie had been texting you non-stop, eager to play you the completed version of a song she’d been working on for the past five months. She’d even finished customizing her father’s passed down electric guitar: you only knew because you frequently checked her Instagram, despite the ache you felt in your chest when you saw the posts of her and her girlfriend doing cute couple shit. Her guitar had been airbrushed raven black with silver strings, and a detailed white and green skull that she painted on the body. She’d sent you and your sister the entire video of her creation as promised, but you'd only replied with a dry thumbs up emoji. Her suspicions were correct: something serious was going on with you.

After your sister’s birthday weekend in July, Ellie texted you multiple times to come help her and Dina mix a song and watch movies, but you politely declined saying that you were busy and maybe another time :)! It technically wasn’t a lie: your sister came to your defense when she asked where you were, saying that your trigonometry grade had dropped significantly after your first test, and you were desperate to get it up before your mother noticed. She had accepted that excuse for the first two weeks, but after your sixth reply of busy :( rain check? she got agitated.

She started pressing your sister about your attitude after the first month without your knowledge, but she swiftly got brushed off with a dude, she's studying at her friend's house, can you relax and pack this bowl for me please?

Ellie laid in her bed after her hotbox with her friends, confused as to why you were acting so stiff with her so suddenly. Whenever she came over to your house, you locked yourself in your room and didn’t come out to greet her for whatever reason. She had been this close to marching to your house and kicking your bedroom door down herself before she received a notification that you had updated your private story. She clicked it, and played a video of one of your friends with a flyswatter in hand yelling about how she was a world-renowned mosquito killer until the bug started flying around the unfamiliar room. Multiple shrieks, including yours, were heard before the video abruptly ended.

Ellie swiped up on your story with a quick LOOOOOOL, but she wasn’t laughing. I guess she really was busy doing something, she thought. She felt bad for assuming that you had been purposefully avoiding her, but she was not used to you being unavailable. She was a clingy high, sue her.

She clicked her phone off and hoped she would see you soon.

Ellie’s eighteenth birthday had been two weeks away.

Her birthday never felt like her own; Her dad had always made a big deal about the celebration. He spent hours blowing up balloons for her eleventh, baking cupcakes(even though he nearly burned their entire house down) for her fourteenth, and bragged to the cashier at the vinyl shop about how much of an old soul his baby girl was(“Oh this isn’t for me, my daughter is obsessed with the oldies, I really rubbed off on her, she’s turning sixteen tomorrow and I wanna surprise her!”). She’d never complained, though. She’d never say, but she loved seeing him happy more than anything in the world.

However, her attitude towards her eighteenth birthday had been different. She was eager to celebrate her transition into adulthood with the people she loved the most. She knew that she wanted a slasher themed party with blood and gore everywhere. Her inner horror movie fan had been gasping for water for years, and she was finally going to quench her thirst.

Call her Jason.

You and your sister were arguing about who would dress up as Scream.

Ellie had given your sister an invitation to her big eighteenth, and although you were reluctant about going, your guilt had slowly been gnawing at you. The last message that Ellie sent you was almost three weeks ago: a simple miss u, which you left unread. You thought it was strange how no one acknowledged the tension between the two of you, but you hardly understood it yourself, and you began to feel remorseful.

You owed her an apology, and you planned to do it tonight.

“You’re not dressing up as Scream, bitch, I’m sorry! I got you this Jack the Ripper cape, try it on.” she said as she threw the cape and top hat on your bed.

“Jack the Ripper was racist, fact— “

“Most serial killers are! It’s for aesthetic purposes only! There’s no such thing as a moral compass on Halloween.”

You stared at her with a blank expression, before she resigned, retrieving the fit, “Ugh, fine, go as one of the most iconic slashers in film history, see if I give a damn.”

“Waaaaaa, you mad.” You said with a laugh.

She yelled back a DUH! as she marched down the hall and into the bathroom to change. Your mom wasn’t supportive of the slasher costume party, but she stood no chance against your sister’s persuasive pout and googly eyes.

An hour later, you both were dressed with your gifts in hand as your mother locked the door behind you. You couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of your neighbors if they peeped out of their windows since Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. They better not call the fucking cops, that's all I know! your sister shouted out into the quiet neighborhood before you shushed her.

Despite the anxiety in the pit of your stomach, you were eager to see Ellie. You and your sister had pitched in to get custom-made, embroidered guitar pics as her gift: you were hoping that she liked them.

It wasn’t long before you made it onto the Miller residence. Your sister scaled the stairs of their front porch like it was a mountain before banging on the door. It shot open seconds later and revealed Dina, dressed as Freddy Krueger, and Jesse as… Saw.

That mask always made an uncomfortable shiver go down your spine.

They both pulled you and your sister into tight hugs before pulling you further inside to shut the door. The entire downstairs area was lit with red LED lights with faux cobwebs spread across the kitchen and living room walls. You and your sister almost slipped on the fake blood that was splattered all over the wooden floor. There was a giant bowl of tooth-rotting chocolate and a bag of sour gummies on the counter, right next to the multitude of Jason figurines. There was also eerie music playing from Ellie’s speaker near the TV.

You couldn’t believe you had a crush on this loser.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO FUCKING EXCITED THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT— “

Your sister, then Dina, had already been trucking back up the stairs, as they released excited squeals, which only ignited more excited squeals from other voices you barely recognized.

Jesse threw his arms around you as he pulled you inside.

“Bro, where the fuck have you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said, voice muffled under his mask and over the bass from the speakers.

“I know, I’m sorry, school is crazy right now, but I’m here now,” you said with a smile and just as muffled, walking over to the counter to rip open the sour gummy bag. “Are we supposed to be upstairs or something?”

“Nah, Cat and Riley, you remember Riley, are finishing up their costumes. They really went all out with the decor though, I was impressed.”

Your smile fell at the mention of her girlfriend, and you immediately knew that you weren’t going to have fun. You lifted your mask up to shove candied worms into your mouth in attempts to center yourself.

After ten minutes of ravishing the tart candies on the kitchen barstool, you heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the stairs.

You turned to see Ellie, Abby, Dina, Riley, Cat, and your sister descend the stairs, jumping excitedly at your get-up, laughing at your mask. You barely had the chance to stand from your seat and greet everyone before Ellie pushed past them to pull you into a rib-cracking hug. You could hardly move to return the gesture.

“I missed you so much, squirt, holy shit,” she whispered into your ear. You would’ve dropped to your knees if it wasn’t for her grip. “Where have you been, are you doing okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face while both your masks were atop your heads, and you got a good look at her freckled appearance. Her hair was styled in a half bun with multicolored bobby pins holding her bangs back. She was wearing light makeup: her nose and cheeks were gently highlighted, her under eyes had a dark red tinted liner that was smudged with purpose, and she shaved a slit into her eyebrow. She had on a black T-shirt that had been cut and ripped in some parts, black, ripped jeans, and an oversized, dark olive-green flannel. The sleeves were rolled up and you damn near fainted at the subtle lines of an unfinished tattoo peeking out. She also had a plastic version of Jason’s large, bloody machete secured through the belt loop of her jeans.

Holy shit.

Your face was burning hot from how close her face was to yours. “Hi El, I’m fine, happy birthday,” you said quietly, half chewing the worms in your mouth.

You turned to grab her small, wrapped gift box off the counter, softly shoving it into her chest in attempts to distract her from pressing about your whereabouts, and though you noticed her eyebrows pull down in concern, she grabbed the box from your hands before replying a gentle thank you.

Your sister slapped Ellie on the back, breaking up the moment, begging to change the music genre before dragging her to the living room to unlock her phone.

I can’t shake ass to this shit, bitch! Change it now!

I NEED A ONE DANCE, GOT A HENNESSY IN MY HAND—

It was almost eleven. Everyone had migrated to the living room after Ellie finally turned off her summoning demons :0 playlist and allowed your sister to shuffle Spotify’s Top 40 from 2016. After Riley skipped every non-Rihanna song for the first thirty minutes, Abby snatched the phone from her hands and put Drake on. They both were on top of the couch, screaming into wooden spoons like they were microphones while Jesse, Dina, and your sister jokingly popped their backs.

You had fallen back onto a lounge chair to catch your breath from the rigorous jumping you were doing, watching them all sing their lungs out.

You had the opportunity to briefly speak to Abby, who dressed up as a bloody Esther, during Riley’s incessant song-skipping since you never had the chance to genuinely talk to her. She excitedly told you about how she and Riley had been best friends since fifth grade and they both met Ellie in middle school. She cringed when she reminisced on the memory of Ellie giving Riley a glitter-riddled macaroni card for Valentine’s Day in seventh grade. Abby and Riley both graduated a year before your sister and friends did and were sophomores at Boston University, her pursuing her hockey career and Riley studying neuroscience.

The shrilling screams of Dina, Abby, and your sister when Single Ladies blasted through the speakers made you jump in your seat before you got up and made your way into the kitchen for water (and more gummies). Babe you’re not single! you heard Jesse yell to Dina.

You stood at the counter chomping on the sweets, contemplating when would be the best time to speak to Ellie one-on-one. You'd seen her escape onto the back patio, probably to smoke, you thought. You had never been confrontational, and you didn’t want to say something you regretted like hi ellie i’ve been in love with you for years i’m so sorry for ignoring you and iloveyouiloveyou—

Yeah, you’d probably leave with a black eye from her girlfriend if you did that. Just say you're sorry, don’t be selfish, don’t ruin her birthday, don’t ruin her relationship, you thought. now or never.

After your mental pep talk, you took a sip from your glass and shoved a handful of the candies in your mouth as a center. You made your way to the back door and onto the patio. Hot ass mask, you thought before ripping it off your head and tossing it onto the glass patio table.

What you weren’t expecting to see was Cat and Ellie already outside having a conversation, and from where you were standing, it looked intense.

“Why the fuck are you mad about me hugging her when I haven’t seen her in ages?”

And you froze.

“Ellie, if you can’t see that she has the biggest crush on you then you're actually delusional,” Cat spat back at her. “And that wasn’t just a regular hug either! You should’ve seen her face when you grabbed her, it looked like she was about to drop to her knees and propose!”

They couldn’t see you from where you stood and it would’ve been in your best interest to flee before you passed out from embarrassment and loathing, but your feet had been glued to the ground and you were forced to listen to their harsh exchange.

“First off, watch your mouth, I’m not fucking delusional,” the birthday girl heatedly said back. “And no she didn’t! And even if she did it doesn’t fucking matter. She's a fucking kid!”

And you’d felt your heart plummet to your feet.

The remainder of the candies in your mouth felt like sandpaper and you couldn’t swallow. You felt the all too familiar tremors of your hands start to pick up.

“Listen,” you heard her tone soften. “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t think about being with anyone else.”

The sharp gasp you sucked in made both heads turn towards you in shock, and your teary eyes locked with wide, green ones.

You wanted to fall through the floor and die.

Cat scoffed and shook her head as if to say see what I mean before she puffed on her—Ellie’s—vape.

Ellie’s call of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your feet moving before your brain could tell them to, clumsily shuffling your way back into your heartbreaker’s home, sliding the door shut with a loud slam.

Everyone who’d been dancing jumped at the sound, turning to take in your ruffled state as their energetic smiles slowly dropped in concern.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dina said gently over the still loud music.

Your sister called your name out with worry in her voice. You looked into her eyes with a head shake before you choked out a reply.

“Can we… I wanna leave, please, now.”

a/n: heyyyy lol so yeah thats that ig. if anyone even reads or sees this fic plss be nice to me ive never written anything like this b4. idk how long this will be but its def gonna be long,,, lots of ground 2 cover w this universe this game is everything 2 me and so is ellie so ye bye lolz

read pt 2 here :D

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Text

the winner takes it all II a.russo x reader

warning; sad world cup loss lessi hours ): got a buunch of blurb requests for various different angsty tings around the world cup loss so i have decided to just combine them all into one gut wrenching fic, so ur all welcome x

the winner takes it all II a.russo x reader 3.9K words

you were bouncing with excitement on the bus to sydney. you were in awe when you did the final stadium walk. you were fired up when the whistle blew to begin the match.

when spain scored you brushed it off, only using it to further fuel your drive to equalise. when that hadn't happened by half time, you felt the cold hand of worry start to wrap around your throat. when your girlfriend who in your opinion was one of your biggest assets toward equalizing was subbed off at the half, you tried to focus on the faith you had in your manager. your stomach dropped at the disappointed glint in alessia's eyes which she hid well behind an understanding smile, but not from you. when that was shortly followed by rach going off, you couldn't help but to let doubt creep in a little at sarina's choices.

your legs burned as you sprinted back and forth from one end of the pitch to the other, feet relentlessly pounding the perfectly manicured grass. desperate to cling onto anything, any chance of a goal.

when alex went down your heart lurched into your throat, aggression of the game growing as tackles became sloppier from both sides. still, you pushed forward with everything you had.

two minutes to go and you once more felt the cold hand of worry squeezing around your neck, tighter and tighter as each second passed where a goal wasn't landed. your lungs burned and muscles screamed for any sort of respite but still you refused to give in, in utter disbelief that this was how your tournament was going to end. you were absolutely gut wrenchingly crushed by the time that final whistle eventually blew. you collapsed to the floor, head buried in your hands and fingers blocking your ears, desperate to drown out the noise of the loss. blades of grass tickled at your nose as your chest heaved with silent sobs and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the hot burning tears carving their way down your cheeks to just go away.

you felt hands on your back, slender fingers wrapping around your wrists and pulling you to sit up, lotte tugging you into her arms and whispering in your ear just how well you played as you buried your face in her shoulder, body wracked with the bitter salty tears you could no longer choke back.

after a brief pause from reality in her embrace you settled, pulling away and using your jersey to wipe your tears, the taller girl pressing a caring kiss to the side of your head before moving on to console the rest of the team.

if you thought the pain of the loss was bad, it was nothing compared to the punch in the stomach felt at seeing the look of sheer utter defeat slapped on your girlfriends face. you wasted no time moving toward her, ignoring the agonizing pain in your legs, hell you'd crawl to her if you had to. your eyes met just moments before you wrapped one another in a bone crushing hug, both mumbling to one another sweet affirmations of your performances and obvious condolences for one another's losses, you knew alessia's stung just that little bit more, overthinking if things could have been different had she been given the chance to contribute more.

not yet out to the general public and neither of you particularly wanting to be the face of tomorrow's papers you forced yourselves to pull away, but not before you reached up to gently wipe away a few stray tears from the blondes face with the pad of your thumb.

alessia so badly wanted to kiss you, to just wrap herself in your little bubble of love and comfort and just fade away from the bitter reality you were both co existing in, but just like you she knew now wasn't the time or the place.

you both wasted no time then moving to mary's side, the keeper crumpled in a ball on the ground with her head hung in her hands, choking back her own sobs. you murmuring how proud she should be as alessia rubbed her back, rachel and lucy tried to gently encourage her to stand up on her feet.

swallowing your pity the team gathered for one last lap of the pitch, clapping with forcefully broken smiles, eyes shining with pain and crushing disappointment but never missing the time to thank your supporters for being by you the whole time regardless. the rest of the ceremony flew past in the blink of an eye and before you could even blink you were all silently packing up your kit bags and filing out of the change room for the very last time.

the distance echos of celebration and whoops of joy from your opponents were not lost on your ears from the other end of the hall. neither was how heavy the second place medals felt hanging around your neck, tokens which should represent your pride in how far you'd progressed now only existing as reminders of what could have been.

you and alessia sat together on the bus back to the hotel, her head slumped on your shoulder, your hands intertwined as you ran your thumb soothingly over her knuckles. you'd seen a few tears slip from her eyes during the medal ceremony, stifled with a bite of her lip and more self control than anyone would ever know, but you knew the striker was making a point of holding back.

your pain eased a little when you arrived to the hotel and were all quickly whisked away to the function room by the staff, your friends and family greeting you with a symphony of cheers, hugs and chants of praise which rained down upon your tired and aching bones, and everything for a brief moment was okay.

your girlfriend wordlessly handed you a glass of wine, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and slipping away to spend some time with her family as you did the same, seeking solace in the arms of your mother and siblings, relishing in the innocence and love from your four year old niece, your last name splayed across her back tugging on your heart strings as you spun her around the dance floor.

as it ticked into the early hours of the morning you all danced and drank and slipped into a sweet sense of false security that maybe, just maybe, this would have been the same celebration you'd had if you'd won.

it was nearing two in the morning when you felt alessia's hand on the small of your back, the taller girl hugging you tightly as her chin rested on your shoulder, quietly asking if you were coming back to the room with her as you nodded.

your family having dipped out around an hour ago to put your niece to bed you both made your rounds of goodbyes, laughing at her brothers as they twirled you both around in tight bear hugs, reveling in the sincere smiles it elicited from the two of you.

the process taking about a half hour you were both finally stood together in the elevator, heads buzzing lightly from the alcohol as you leaned into each other in a comfortable silence, eyes half lidded as exhaustion began to sink back in.

having showered after the game you both slipped out of your tracksuits and into much comfier clothes to sleep, wordlessly trading hoodies and inhaling the familiar comfort of one another's perfume before the taller girl settled between your legs with a brush in her hand.

you combed out the tangles in her long blonde hair, mumbling that she needed to stop putting it up into a bun whilst damp with a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, plaiting it softly before you squeezed her shoulders to let her know you were done.

using your knees as leverage she pushed herself up to her feet, making her way to her own side of the bed and flicking off the light as you shuffled back and sunk into the mattress, pulling up the blanket for alessia to sneak in beside you.

you both wasted no time intertwining your limbs, alessia's legs slotting inbetween your own as your arms snaked around her, the blondes nose tucking itself into your neck with a gentle exhale, one hand tangling itself into your hair as her nails scratched at your scalp, your own digits tracing absent minded shapes down her spine as your hand tucked up the back of her hoodie.

soft i love you's were the only words exchanged among a few lazy kisses, both of you far too tired and bodies screaming for sleep as you drifted off wrapped up in one anothers tender embrace.

a few hours later you stirred slightly and reached out for your girlfriend but your eyes slowly fluttered open when your hands only clasped onto cold sheets.

"less?" you called out groggily, rubbing tiredly at your face as you sat up and let your eyes adjust to the darkness of the hotel room.

glancing to the side you saw the alarm clock blink that it was 4:43am and you frowned, calling out again for your blonde lover but getting nothing in response. rolling out of bed you wiped the sleep from the corner of your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie.

your girlfriend a good half a foot taller than you they hung well past your hands, her limbs longer than your own you often teased they'd grown too fast for her to catch up, the poor girl as clumsy as a baby deer on ice.

your worry grew as you checked the bathroom and she still wasn't there, though it was then that you noticed the slight crack in the balcony door, it left just ajar. you slid it open and poked your head out, your face falling as your eyes landed on the bundle of limbs and blonde hair rocking herself back and forth in the corner.

"oh baby." you exhaled softly as her head twisted up to look at you and you stepped properly outside, noting the tears pouring out of her blood shot eyes as she held out her arms expectantly. as you stepped closer the girls hands grabbed at your hoodie, fisting the material tightly and tugging you down to sit on top of her.

"oh lessi baby." you sighed out as her ocean blue orbs welled up with tears, your hands coming to rest either side of her face as she looked up at you, absolutely broken as she finally let out all of the emotions she'd been bottling up since that final whistle blew.

"it's okay love i'm right here, i'm right here." you repeated over and over as she buried her face in your chest, tears soaking the faded brown material of her favorite hoodie adorning your smaller frame, twisting the fabric tightly in her fists as if she was worried you'd disappear at a moments notice, her body shaking with sobs so intense it cause her shoulders to heave.

it took everything within you not to break down alongside her but you knew you needed to hold it together for the both of you right now, you'd played the full ninety minutes and needed to be grateful for that.

that opportunity was ripped away from the love of your life and right now that was all clearly coming crashing down on her as she mumbled that she should have ran faster, should have cleared more passes, made more crosses, shot more, done more.

you knew there wasn't much use in disagreeing with her but still you tried to soothe the sting of her plaguing insecurities with sweet nothings mumbled into her hair as you rubbed her back.

you weren't sure how long you sat there on her lap as she clung onto you, eventually her sobs and tears turning into slight hiccups and sniffles as the sun began to rise and you gently whispered that the two of you should try to get a few hours of sleep before you'd need to be up and leaving for the airport.

you felt her nod lightly and slid off of her, standing to your feet and offering her your hand which she accepted. "wait here baby." you lead her inside and urged her to sit on the edge of the bed, gently prying her hands off of you and bringing them to your mouth with a soft kiss.

the girl watched on as you slipped into the bathroom, grabbing what you needed and quickly returning to her side where once again she latched onto you. you pressed a caring kiss to her lips before showing her what you'd brought back with you and you smiled softly as her eyes welled up with tears again, overcome with love for how deeply you cared for her.

wiping away her tears with your sleeves you stood in between her legs, tenderly kissing her forehead as her eyes slid close and you began to do her skincare routine, you'd memorized each step with the upmost precision, having watched the older girl go through the motions almost every night since you'd started seeing one another.

finishing up you stole a kiss and mumbled against her lips for her to get back in bed as you ducked off to put everything back where you'd taken it from. when you returned she was curled up in the blankets, only the top of her head poking out as you re-locked the balcony door, drawing the shades and setting an alarm on your phone for in a few hours time.

slipping back into bed beside her you wrapped your arms tightly around your girlfriends torso, the blonde tossing around onto her other side so she could press her face tightly into your neck, fists again balling your top and tugging your body as close into her own as you could physically get.

you rubbed soothingly at her back and whispered sweet nothings into her ear until you felt her hold loosen a little and her breathing even out, finally drifting off into a restless sleep as you closed your eyes and eventually did the same.

the mood was tense as the team stood in sydney airport awaiting their flight to board, you'd all plastered fake smiles onto your faces and waved till your hands ached as you were cheered all the way to the gate.

but now you couldn't help but feel like a fish in a tank as onlookers gathered just outside the check in desk, oggling for a glance at the squad who almost won the whole world cup.

but it wasn't the fans who were causing the main issues, it was the media.

it was the middle aged men in chinos, volleys and dark graphic t-shirts asking ridiculous questions to try and illicit a reaction, hurrying from player to player reeking of desperation as they angled for any sort of click bait title for a trashy article they could scrounge up, like vultures picking at a roadkill carcus.

thankfully with media training on lock and a few members of security shouldering them out of the way you all made it to the gate mostly unscathed.

you were stood in a small huddle with alessia, ella, lotte, lucy and jordan, making polite small talk about your plans for the brief break before the wsl season was due to start, preseason having already commenced for your respective teams.

you watched on carefully as ella stepped away as soon as the topic shifted to the oncoming club season, a soft frown creasing your features as you shared a look with mary who walked off after her.

both of you were aware of how the transfer was affecting her, it likely suddenly feeling very real now that you were all out of the bubble of denial that was camp in australia, all now needing to scatter to different places throughout the world.

"you alright baby?" you quietly asked alessia who was sat down on her suitcase, resting her chin on the handle. "m'fine." the blonde mumbled back and you nodded, not pushing her for anything further knowing she was exhausted and still quite upset, the two of you having another tear filled cuddle this morning once your alarm had gone off.

"he's still watching us." alessia grumbled as she glanced off to the side, yourself and lotte looking over your shoulders to see the same man from the daily mail who'd been following you since you stepped foot in the airport loitering around with his camera in hand.

"they're so relentless its vile." lotte muttered as you hummed in agreement. "less do you-" you started to ask if she wanted anything to drink but your words fell short seeing the blonde had her face buried in her hands, trying to wipe away the tears which threatened to spill over.

"oh love." you sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently as she peered out of her hands with a broken look. "oh for fuck sakes he's recording now, of course." alessia shoved your hand off and turned her head away, you swallowing the pang in your heart as she did and instead turning around to shoot a filthy glare towards the paparazzi who paled at the murderous look on your normally calm and soft features.

"ignore him, he's a prick." you sighed, moving your body so that your back blocked her from being filmed any further, lotte squeezing in beside you to give the blonde as much privacy as possible as she quietly excused herself to use the bathroom, hurrying off still furiously wiping at her eyes with her sleeves.

"hey, you okay?" lotte bumped her shoulder into yours with a small smile, the two of you hadn't grown up together as her and alessia had, but having played for arsenal together for several years now you looked to the brunette as a sister of sorts and the two of you cared quite deeply for one another.

it was all the more reason alessia and yourself had fallen so head over heels, lotte in both of your ears about how sweet of a couple you'd make, unknown to the both of you having been gunning to get you two together for many many months before it finally happened.

"no, you?" you smiled honestly, lotte chuckling and giving you the same answer back. "soon enough we'll be back home and your biggest worry will be avoiding the balls kicked at your head by katie and jen when you run your mouth onruststoker." lotte grinned, your eyes rolling at her nickname for you which you'd eventually harassed viv into translating the dutch for you since lotte refused to give you the satisfaction, it meaning troublemaker.

"do you and less have plans to go away at all before preseason? or should i say before i have to deal with the two of you being atattched at the hip every single day." lotte asked as you noticed your girlfriend return from the toilet, making her way over to her best friend who was sat hunched over with mary, alessia sitting on her other side and slinging an arm over ellas shoulder clearly leaning in to talk to her.

"don't be silly, i'll always make time for my work wife." you winked and nudged her as she playfully rolled her eyes. "and now we can go on double dates instead of me having to third wheel you and tao or being dragged along on your disgustingly cute bike rides." you were now the one to roll your eyes.

"but no not really, we're just spending a few days with our families." you answered her, not having the chance to take the conversation further as your flight was called and it was as if the team breathed a collective sigh of relief as they all began to board, filing down the tunnel toward the private plane which was to be the first flight of three.

you slipped your headphones on over your ears as they dimmed the lights in the cabin, you'd all been flying for a few hours now and as part of the jetlag plan set in by the staff you knew you all now needed to readjust back out of the australian time zone so despite it being midday it was important you all did your best to sleep.

well, most of you.

the plane had all but split into two, those who wanted to chat seated up front together in pairs while the rest of you who wanted to sleep took up the back. you were seat buddies with mary, the two of you having flown together on the way as well both appreciating the long flight as a chance to catch up on a lack of sleep from the excitement of a pre cup camp.

your girlfriend was again seated with ella and you'd left her to it, knowing there were conversations the two of them would need to have during the last of their time together before for the first time in several years they'd not be returning together to manchester together.

but that exact fact is why you jumped in surprise as a soft hand landed on your knee and you opened your eyes to see the taller blonde squatted down beside you. "you alright?" you asked tiredly, having been asleep the last few hours and with a quick glance around it seemed almost all of the girls still were, you weren't brave enough to check the time, knowing you still had a long way to fly.

"i can't sleep, i need you." was all that she muttered in a small voice before motioning for you to scoot over, slotting her body in beside yours, the two of you wriggling around until you found a somewhat comfortable position squished into the single seat together.

"i love you." you whispered quietly, pressing a few sweet kisses to her lips as she echoed those 3 words back to you before encouraging her to try and sleep as she tucked her head into your neck, your nails scratching softly at her scalp where her hair was scraped back into a messy bun.

"oi what are you-" mary slid down her eye mask and glared toward you, ready to tell you off for the noise of your shuffling around but her eyes softened seeing the two of you curled up together, sending you a smile and a nod before tucking her airpods back in.

"thank you amore mio." you felt the striker mumble into your collarbone as she kissed gently at your exposed skin. "for what?" you whispered back, digits still messing with her hair as hers had snuck up your jumper, tracing circles on your ribs.

"just being here, being you. you're just...my person, and i love you for it." alessia shrugged lightly and you swooned, a slight rosy pink blush covering your cheeks, alessia glancing up and noticing with a smile, placing a tender kiss to your jaw.

"my best girl." she whispered lovingly, squeezing you a little tighter as mary grumbled a gentle warning for the chatter and you both shared a much lighter smile, your presence allowing alessia to finally let down her walls as she pressed her face into your shoulder and closed her eyes, both of you lulling the other off to sleep with the comfort of one anothers ever present love.

you might not have won the world cup, but you still had one another and were about to embark on a whole new journey together, and though the pain of that bitter loss would hang around for awhile, so long as alessia had you by her side she knew each day it would get a little easier.

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs

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weebsinstash · 2 months

Note

Yandere romantic Alastor Vs Yandere platonic Lucifer and Charlie??? 🥺

I just wanna say the first thing that popped into my head was, Charlie and Lucifer are having an emergency "oh my fucking gosh we can't let them date alastor" meeting

Charlie: ok... ok... I love all of my friends and, and I trust them, and they're good people!! But... I don't want ALASTOR OF ALL PEOPLE, D A T I N G MY-

Lucifer: I don't even want to THINK about what kind of, PERVERTED DEPRAVED SEXUAL ACTS that creepy black toothed hack will want to do!!

Alastor, poking his head through the doorway, ascending slide whistle noise: oh I don't believe you'd have to worry about anything like that *exits room, slide whistle descending*

*resounding 'oh yeah, that's right' from both Morningstars before they call after him that he's STILL not allowed to date you*

No but actually, I started thinking about platonic yandere Alastor vs romantic yandere Lucifer because... just picture it

I am absolutely convinced Lucifer could get a Sinner pregnant if he TRULY wanted to and just, I'm picturing Lucifer looking all around the Hotel for you, not being able to find you, and he calls Charlie who says that you're with her and Alastor in the Cannibal District and, Lucifer is walking up to join you guys and you're talking to a cannibal woman, holding her baby, "aww, yeah, I was kinda starting to think about kids and stuff when i was alive, but uh, guess it's too late for that now, huh?" and you're looking kind of sad and, looking down cooing at the chubby little hellborn baby you're holding and Alastor just *record scratch noise* as he realizes Lucifer is looking at you holding that baby with the most sappy, sentimental, LONGING look in his eyes, Alastor catches this man YEARNING, he is slipping up on main, and Alastor CAN'T STAND THIS SHIT

Like picture from Alastor's perspective, whether you're picturing him as ace or sex repulsed or otherwise, he's platonic for you and someone he considers an enemy not only wants you for themselves, not only wants to stick their gross dick in you, but he wants to IMPREGNATE YOU? Alastor will hide your ass away before he lets that kind of shit happen. Bull SHIT will he let Lucifer put some sort of blonde rosy cheeked hellspawn in your belly!

Charlie just wants everyone to get along but both of these men are ready to have angry straight up fucking musical numbers fighting over you, 🎵"wouldn't you rather have your deer-est friend?" "wouldn't you rather have the king of the end?"🎵 like for real everyone is so fucking overdramatic here, you're being twirled around and pulled between everyone and goddamn if this is how it's gonna be, maybe you'll run off to the Vees or even HEAVEN to get away from this. I'm sure ADAM would appreciate the chance to steal LUCIFER'S woman for once

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #hh #yandere x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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gardnhee · 2 months

Text

can we start over? - c.yj

✸ tw/content. intentional lowercase, cussing, angst(very little), fluff, use of baby (only like once or twice.), reader is slightly antisocial in the beginning, not really proofread

✸ exbsf!yj x afab!reader

✸ note. yj drabble cs i love him an unhealthy amount

✸ song rec. start over - jacquees

you stood in a corner like the awkward person that you are. away from all the chatter, laughter, yelling, and horny crowd. this is how you liked it, you indulged in your solitude.

the unbearably loud music rang in your ears, the fact that you were standing just a couple feet from the speakers didn’t help either.

you decided to drown the ringing by taking a sip of your cup, inhaling a sharp breath as the liquid cascaded down your throat.

“…who hired this dj? music’s unbearable…” you murmured as you frowned at the dj who stood a couple steps from you.

it was fairly boring for a while, the music slowly started to feel faint as the stuffy atmosphere began to push its way into your already tight space. you slightly squeeze the plastic cup in your hand, pressing your back against the wall.

you felt trapped.

deciding you’ve had enough of this, you walk away from the corner. as if you were popping a bubble; like a puppy opening its eyes for the first time, but instead of meeting with a fascinating world, you’re met with drunk shit heads who can’t dance, let alone walk in a straight line.

“where is she…” you huffed, looking for the coworker who invited you to this party, if you can even call it that. it’s more depressing than a fucking funeral.

pushing through everyone was a literal pain in the ass, the environment reeked of alcohol, and the air was incredibly thick. you were starting to regret even accepting the goddamn invitation.

go they said, it’ll be fun they said, “fun my ass.” you utter a small ‘tsk’ as a man twice your size bumps into you, not even having the common courtesy to apologize. god, this is horrible.

you somehow ended up in the kitchen. sighing in frustration, you rest yourself against the counter.

“i’m going to fucking kill-“ you started, but were rudely interrupted when someone walked into the kitchen.

your eyes slightly widened as you acknowledge the person. your ex best friend. fun.

he was whistling along to the horrendous noise these people call music, happiness basically oozing from his pores.

he turned his head to you, looking at you from head to toe in shock, shock which soon subsided and was replaced with an expression you can’t quite describe.

“oh.. hey.” yeonjun waved, mullet drenched in sweat as some loose hairs stuck to his forehead. he breathed heavily, his once joyful demeanor now engulfed in…uncomfortableness? melancholy? nostalgia? it’s been so long that you can’t tell anymore.

he slowly made his way to the fridge, giving you an awkward smile as you bite your inner cheek and look away.

it was silent for a while, you could feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“yn?” he quietly said, arms crossed over the open fridge door. he looked at you, waiting for a response.

in all honesty, he didn’t expect one. at least not after ghosting you completely and then coming back a couple months later like nothing happened.

he scoffed and shook his head with a sad smile, sighing in disbelief. he was disappointed in himself.

yeonjun shut the fridge door and begun to lead himself out the kitchen, “yes?” you replied with urgency, you didn’t want him to leave. not again. not after losing him for months.

he chuckled, looking back at you. “you’re…not mad at me?” he asked, feet moving in your direction. he realized you aren’t so closed off anymore, you’re more…awake, as if you’ve come to terms with the gravity of things, and for that, he’s thankful. he can make things right now.

you grew nervous, a prominent lump built up in your throat, making it difficult for you to breathe. “i wouldn’t say i am - or was - mad, i guess i..“ you stopped yourself as yeonjun stumbled, falling onto you.

you tried backing up, but couldn’t. fucking counter…you thought, swallowing slowly as the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

“yeonjun? yeonjun, you’re drunk.” you tried pushing him off, but he didn’t budge. instead, he laid his head on your shoulder, “not drunk, just… tipsy.” he blabbered.

it was silent for a couple seconds until you heard him sniffle. he was crying.

“wha…” he grabbed your waist, sobbing into your shoulder. “i’m so-“ he hiccuped, followed by a groan. “i’m sorry, yn, i’m sorry!” yeonjun cried, lifting his head in an attempt to look at you. you stood there, dumbfounded. heart hammering against your chest. he’s drunk. it was evident, yet he still denied it.

he peeked at you through his wet lashes, incoherent sounds slipping past his lips as he wiped his runny nose. “and you say you’re not drunk? look at you! why are you crying?!” you raised both brows in confusion, stroking his hair softly.

you’re supposed to be cussing him out for all the hurt he’s caused you, for leaving with absolutely no explanation, yet here you are, combing your cold fingers through his sweaty strands as he bawls into your shoulder. you’ve seen him like this more often than not; always manages to surprise you, though.

“i’m not drunk…. ‘m sorry” he hesitated, wiping the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. as you realize how close your bodies are, you nod, circling around him.

yeonjun turned, biting his lip. he wants to say something. you know he wants to say something, but he’s holding back and it’s making you anxious and impatient.

“would you maybe…want to leave?” you blink, all previous feelings of discomfort disappearing. “what’re you planning?” you question, crossing your arms as you sternly stare at him.

“maybe grab some drinks and then go to my place?” he smiled, which quickly disappeared when you displayed a doubting look. “i mean, i just want to talk to you…without all the noise…and the multitude of people.” your heart shattered, and you were sure your eyes softened, because his did too.

“fine.” yeonjun’s ears perk up, big smile on his face. “let’s go.” you nodded, grabbing his arm before he left the kitchen.

“i’m driving.”

“but-“ his eyebrows furrowed, “no buts, deny it all you want, we’re not risking it.” he sighed, defeat poking through the pout on his lips. he lowly hummed in agreement, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing close behind.

“home sweet home!” yeonjun exclaimed, arms flying in the air as the bag of soju dangled in his hand. “yeonjun, be quiet, it’s late.” you slowly grabbed his arm, taking the bag of soju away. “i shouldn’t have allowed you to drink on the way here.” you sighed, placing the bag on the counter and taking out the already opened box of soju.

he pouted, stumbling towards the little coffee table that sat in the middle of his living room. “bring some soju, please!” he slurred.

you grabbed the box, nestling it under your arm as you made your way towards drunk yeonjun.

you sat down, setting the box on the coffee table. “oh…i forgot to bring shot glasses.” you groaned, fixing to stand up when yeonjun stopped you.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll go get them.” he smiled, patting your hand.

“but-“

“it’s okay.” he shook his head, standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

in a matter of seconds, he was back, sitting in front of you with soju in hand, two shot glasses already set on the table.

yeonjun held the bottle from the bottom with one hand, and swirled it vigorously with the other. you watched him closely, how his hands wrapped around the bottle, you wonder how they’d feel on your face-

“yn?” you blinked, snapping back into reality. “yes? i’m sorry.” you gulped, noticing a full shot glass in front of you.

as you were about to reach for the glass, you stopped midway. sighing as you plopped your arm down on the table. yeonjun noticed this and raised a brow, “is everything…alright?” he asked, pouring soju into his glass.

“yes…and no.” you admitted, “i mean i just…i missed this, you know? spending time with you. i missed being here. i missed this apartment.” you paused, staring at yeonjun who was now looking down at his thighs.

“i missed you.” you leaned forward, arms now crossed on the table. yeonjun snapped his head up, quickly grabbing his glass and gulping the liquid down.

“ahhh…” he set the glass down, frowning as the liquid burned his throat. “i missed you too yn…” he smiled weakly, you realized he wasn’t in the right mind for all the sappy stuff right now, so you decided to change the subject.

“tell me, what have you been up to?” you smiled, grabbing your glass, tilting your head to the side as you swallow the drink.

“me? hm…not much….” yeonjun leaned forward, smile spread across his flushed cheeks.

✸ ✸ ✸

you lost track of time, it seemed. but you weren’t the only one. yeonjun, too, lost track of how many shots he took. not that it mattered, he was already drunk out of his mind to begin with. “baby…..” he slurred, reaching out to you as you gasped. baby?? are you serious??

“yeonjun what…” you decided to stop yourself, not even questioning anything that came out of his mouth.

after looking around for a minute, you groaned. there is so much to clean up.

an unfinished 20 pack of soju on the table; only 4 remaining, some snack wrappers thrown on the table, and a drunk yeonjun who can’t even utter a proper sentence.

“‘m s’sorry” he hiccuped, head lulling as he smiled like an idiot. his lips glistened under the dim light, most likely from all the constant licking and drinking he’s been doing.

“let me take you to your room so you can sleep.” he shook his head violently, backing up against the sofa behind him as you made your way to him.

“no!” he pouted, looking at you with tears brimming his eyes. “oh you’re such a child, come on let’s go!” yeonjun pushed your hand off his arm, whining.

you stopped and huffed, sitting down beside him in order to comfort him, “why are you crying?”

“i f…feel like shit” he cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “why do you feel that way?” you knew this was just a drunk fit of his, but you had to at least hear him out.

“‘cuz i ruined my chance with the person i love” he sniffles, staring into your eyes with his teary ones. you blinked, wiping his tears with your thumbs. “and who may that be?” you question, stroking his shoulder in a comforting manner.

“you.” you inhale sharply, blinking in confusion. you shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, “you’re just drunk, come on.” yeonjun stopped protesting, defeated by his own tiredness.

you wrapped his arm over your shoulder, dragging him while leaning against the walls for support. “goddamnit, what have you been eating? you’re so heavy.” you strain, sighing in relief as your eyes find his bedroom door.

opening the door was one thing, laying him on the bed was another. you pant, his body weighing you down. as a result you slipped and fell.

on top of him.

jesus fuck.

you froze when he groaned. “i’m so sorry!” you scrambled to stand up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“sleep with me tonight, please.” yeonjun whispered, lazy smile spreading across his face. you shake your head, “yeonjun, you’re drunk. we can’t be doing this. you’re not in the right mind!” you faintly shake your head, “please?” he insisted.

you sighed, pressing your forehead against his chest. “fine. but i will be leaving first thing in the morning.” he chuckled, nodding. “if you want to get comfortable, my shirts are over there-“ he hiccuped. you nodded and patted his chest in understanding. “just sleep, okay?? i’ll be right back.” yeonjun hummed, closing his eyes.

you wake up groggy and disoriented, staring at the window as a ray of sunshine peeked through the curtain, making you squint and smile lazily.

you rub the sleep from your eyes and stretch, “good mor-“ you stop as you notice yeonjun isn’t in bed with you anymore. you look around the room once more, no sign of him.

a pang of worry and confusion washed over you. one would think it’s stupid considering the fact that you’re in his house, yet you can’t help but be alarmed.

what if he left you again?

‘oh that’s stupid, yn. pull yourself together.’ you shake your head and scoff, but the panic settles at the pit of your stomach nonetheless.

throwing the blanket to the side, you stand, yawning as you wobble towards the door.

“yn-“ yeonjun stops, doorknob in one hand and breakfast tray in the other. he eyed you as you stood there, eyes wide in confusion.

yeonjun blinked, “good morning?…” he lets out a breathy laugh, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with his foot. “i made you breakfast.” you felt your heart squeeze at that. he smiled, walking over to the bed and signaling you to lay down.

and you did. you laid down, placing the warm blankets back on your body and smoothing them over in order to create a flat enough surface for the breakfast tray.

“thank you so much..” you gush as yeonjun placed the tray in front of you. he sat down, crossing his legs and smiling like a total idiot.

“you’ve been nothing but smiles since you walked in the room…did something happen?” you question, making yeonjun hang his head with an even bigger smile on his face. “you look so beautiful.” he mumbled, adjusting his position on the bed.

“what?” you looked up, cheek stuffed with food. he snorted, scooting forward and leaning towards you. “i said,” he wiped your lip with his thumb, eyes traveling to yours, holding them dearly. “you look so beautiful.” he chuckled at your expression, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’re making a mess, be careful, yeah?” you grab the tray, placing it to one side as you choke on your food. yeonjun stands with you, stroking your arms with his soft hands.

“hey, you alright?” you nodded, grabbing onto his shoulder for support. “it’s just…” you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. “you caught me off guard, that’s all.” yeonjun’s eyes softened, “i meant it.” he caressed your face as a warm smile tugged at his lips.

“why…why are you being so nice to me?” you stepped away from his hold, sitting back down on the soft bed. he sighed and flopped down beside you, staring at the curtains that blocked the sunlight.

“because i’m in love with you.” his eyes traveled from the window to you, “i’ve been in love with you.” you waver, eyes widening in confusion. “and i don’t want to mess up again.”

“so last night-“

“i remember.” yeonjun nodded, fidgeting with his thumbs as he bit his bottom lip. “i guess i was drunk enough to let that slip but not enough to forget.” he reasoned, gazing at you briefly before staring at his feet.

“it’s okay if you don’t want anything to do with me, i mean-“ you placed a hand on his, drawing circles on it with your thumb. “yeonjun, im in love with you too.” he stopped, shifting on the bed.

“what?…”

“im in love with you too.”

he stuttered, mouth opened for a few seconds before closing it again. you saw the glint in his his eyes before being pulled into a hug.

a long, warm, cozy hug.

a hug you’ve been craving for a while.

his hug.

you broke into tears, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “oh god, yn, i’m deeply sorry. i’ve hurt you so much.” yeonjun ran his fingers through your hair, cooing softly.

you stained his shirt, but he didn’t care,“i missed you so much, you know? we stopped talking for so long. i thought i lost you for real…” you say between sobs, lightly punching his chest.

“i forgive you, dumbass.” he stayed quiet, you’re too nice. he didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. yet you gave it. you gave something so precious to someone who doesn’t even deserve a single look from you.

yeonjun held your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs. he smiled, “how about this, you finish breakfast and then we can go wherever you want. i’ll explain myself. i’ll explain everything.” you nod slowly, grinning.

“there’s my yn, i missed you.” he quipped, earning himself a slap to his arm. he winced, rubbing the spot.

“is this a date then?” you question, grabbing another bite of your once forgotten food.

“hmmmmmmm” yeonjun tapped his chin, laughing as you whine. “yes dummy, it is.” he flicked your forehead lightly as you giggled.

you grab his arm, “let’s get ready then.” yeonjun didn’t budge as you tried dragging him along, “but the food…” you shook your head, “it’s gone cold, plus i know you’re somewhat hung over so let me treat you to food, hm?” you tapped his hand reassuringly.

“yn-“

“i’m not taking no for an answer.” he pursed his mouth, slowly nodding in defeat.

“perfect, where do you want to go?”

“how about…”

you both disagreed the entire way to the bathroom, laughing and giggling as jokes were thrown around between sentences.

you missed this.

you missed yeonjun.

he was willing to start over, and you were willing to let it happen.

💌: im sorry this is lwk ass, i hope you enjoyed regardless! please make sure to leave a like, comment, and reblog!! thank you 🫶

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bellaxisworld · 2 months

Text

february 17, @jegulus-microfic prompt: soup. word count: 685

cw: grief/sadness & mentioned death of parents

Regulus dug through the kitchen drawers quickly. He could have sworn the small yellow paper was around here somewhere, he remembered vaguely seeing it just a couple months ago—

There! There it is, hidden beneath magazines and old receipts, looking slightly crinkled. He pulled it out with a relieved sigh.

He pattered gently through the house, noting and hating the eerie silence. Their home had never really been known for its silence, with plenty of clatter going on. James was not a quiet human. He was loud and the echoes of his laughs were usually bouncing around the halls. He made noise when he walked or danced around the house, and he was always humming or whistling some tune that was stuck in his head. Regulus found the constant noise endearing. He always knew when James was around.

But now, he felt cold walking through a silent home.

James was exactly where Regulus found him, laying still and quiet on the bed. He stared blank-eyed at the ceiling, seeing nothing that was there. James was a hollow of a person, and Regulus’ heart broke every day he saw him like this.

James’ parents passed away over a month ago, and James wasn’t himself.

“Hi, baby,” Regulus whispered, crawling onto the bed to sit beside James. He brushed away the curls from James’ forehead, trying to pour all his love into him. James thrived and lived off love—love in all its forms, physical affections, words of kindness and care, friendships and romantic love and familial love—it was all pure James, and he needed it. In fact, he was obnoxious with love, overfull of so much love for everyone around him and the rest of the world.

So Regulus did what he could, touching and caring for James in the small and big ways, especially as he fell apart.

James looked at Regulus, eyes sorrowful, and Regulus wasn’t used to seeing James without a smile.

Today, at the very least, wasn’t a bad day. James’ bad days were spent going through cycles of catatonia and body-wracking sobs. Today, though, James just looked sad.

“I found something I want us to try,” Regulus whispered, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Hm?” James hummed.

Regulus showed him the yellow slip of paper, and his hand was slightly shaking. He was mildly fearful of James’ reaction to it.

James looked at it, and looked at, and kept looking, and Regulus was about to ask, to beg for a response when James gulped, and turned back to Reg with tearful eyes.

“I’d love to,” he whispered, voice thick.

The paper was many years old, and there was a bulleted list of ingredients and instructions on how to properly make Euphemia Potter’s homemade albondigas soup. Regulus smiled, grateful for this show of life, and helped James out of bed, changing his clothes and wrapping him in a fluffy robe before leading him to the kitchen.

They assigned roles, and James was gentle when he began making and forming the meatballs. Regulus grabbed the other ingredients, the broth and spices and vegetables. They worked around each other and with each other, and Regulus was pleased to see their comfortable dynamic returning, even in the small ways.

When the soup was done, Regulus shuffled James onto sitting on the couch and shushed him when he complained. He served them two bowls of soup and they cuddled up on the couch, warm and pressed against each other. Regulus hoped James felt every bit of Euphemia’s love from the soup and from him. Regulus would coddle him unashamed because Regulus cherished him, and James needed to feel that.

James finished his bowl of soup and curled into Regulus, head on his chest and breathing steady.

“Thank you, Reg,” he whispered. “I felt closer to her, just for a little while.”

Regulus smiled and kissed his nose. “We can make soup as often as you want, if it helps.”

James smiled, a small and sad-tainted thing, but it was his first smile in months, and Regulus felt himself heal a little bit, too.

part of my february microfic work on ao3(17/29): february, i'm yours

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writeyouin · 10 months

Text

Mirage X Reader - Falling

Description (This was a request but it got sent to my PMs instead of my inbox by accident): When Alison Moyet's song Falling comes on the radio, Mirage is forced to think about you and his feelings towards you.

A/N – Yep, so another Mirage one for all of you desperately waiting for the film to come out on a good pirating site in top quality.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You stood at the sink washing dishes, a tune on your lips that you mumbled quietly to yourself, only half singing with your mind on other things like lost loves, failed relationships, and someone new in your life; Mirage.

“She said something like, I’m tired of me,” You sang Alison Moyet’s ‘Falling’, and then transitioned to whistling part more of the tune which had only come out a year prior.

Then, without the radio to follow, you reset to an earlier part of the tune, singing whichever little bits came to mind.

Little did you know, Mirage was spying on you, trying his best to imitate the stealthy way Arcee moved. Alas, subtlety wasn’t Mirage’s strong suit and he had already knocked over a row of garbage cans, and crushed some kid’s bike; he could only hope the bike wouldn’t be missed. Fortunately, among the usual noise and squalor of New York, nobody had cared about the sound or come out to explore.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be a creep by observing you. He just wanted to know more about your life and what you did. It seemed that in your day-to-day routine, you were obsessed with music. Bumblebee had already introduced Mirage to the concept of human music which was vastly different from the stuff that used to exist on Cybertron and Mirage liked it.

It was different from what he was used to for sure, but there were some songs he just couldn’t resist. The Twisted Sister song ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It,’ seemed to be a great Frag You to any Decepticon scum that attempted battle with him. And there was that one Bumblebee had introduced to him, ‘I Can’t Drive 55’, by that Sammy Hager fella. That was great, but Mirage was more than capable of beating that set speed and regularly did so when he wanted to bait the local authorities into a fun chase.

Still, he wasn’t sure he saw the appeal of this song. It sounded happy and sad at the same time, and he couldn’t decide which it was supposed to be with its New Wave vibe. Was it about falling, like it said? Falling for what? Mirage wasn’t sure, but you seemed to enjoy it. You hummed it quite a lot when you were thinking; he wasn’t sure you realised that you did that. It was one of the things he liked about you. It felt like you were letting your guard down when you hummed along to half a tune, and he enjoyed that you could feel so relaxed around him and the other Autobots.

Mirage might have called on you that night to ask you out on a drive; he liked your company. Alas, he got a message from Optimus telling him to return for the evening so they might meet the humans that Noah had been found by. Apparently, the new humans wished to discuss the possibility of an alliance with the Autobots.

Either way, Optimus’ message ended with, “Return to the rendezvous immediately.”

“Mirage, return,” Mirage mocked, impersonating Optimus. “Mirage, meet the humans. Mirage, I choose you.”

“Did I ask for your backtalk?” Optimus’ gravelly voice came through the radio.

“Scrap!” Mirage hurried to end the communication, having not realised that the line was still open when he had been joking around.

He transformed and raced off to the rendezvous point, any thoughts of you temporarily forgotten.

The next night, the Autobots stood in a unified line as they stared at their new base, a fully functional warehouse, with technology that they could use, even if it was primitive Earth tech.

“Optimus, can we trust these humans?” Arcee asked, her optics never leaving the building.

“We must try, Arcee. I see now that we have spent too much time working only for ourselves when we should have been working together.”

“Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it,” Bumblebee played from his speakers, using Journey’s immortalised words to convey his point.

Arcee looked past Optimus to catch a glimpse of Mirage, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mirage. Thoughts?”

Mirage marched himself in front of the trio, clapping his servos together as he began his speech, “Well, I mean, clearly there’s a lot to think about here. There are the new humans we know, we have to check the place for bugs, and of course, there’s the most important matter of all-” He took a few slow steps backwards, “- who gets the biggest room. I call dibs!”

With that Mirage spun on his heel and pelted towards the base. Bumblebee, unwilling to let Mirage have all the fun joined in the race and chased after his ally, though when he had just about caught up, Mirage jumped backwards, crashing into Bumblebee and knocking him over. Before he could sprint off again, Bumblebee grabbed Mirage’s ankle and the two began brawling on the floor.

Optimus walked past the wrestling bots with dignity befitting his position and a dismayed shake of his head.

Arcee took a few steps closer to her allies, resting her servo on her hip as she took in the show.

‘Scouts will be scouts,’ She thought mirthfully.

Eventually, the competition was over, with Bumblebee the clear victor, and after sitting on top of Mirage for ten minutes, he finally let him get up, but only after Mirage admitted that Bumblebee was the best Autobot and the supreme Earth expert.

After that, they raced through the base, checking out every nook and cranny, and wondering which exits they could exploit and sneak out of, should Optimus try to ground them from the drive-in again.

Eventually, Bumblebee and Mirage settled down, each picking out a portion of the warehouse that was just for them. All rooms had been modified with individual entrances so they could come and go as they pleased. Mirage had even been hooked up with some sweet racing posters. He set about decorating the room to his liking, letting his internal radio play as he did so. After switching channels, he stumbled across the song you liked so much.

Curiously, he let it play, trying to really listen to what the lyrics meant.

She said something like I want to go Down where the river's wild He said take me then I want to drown Deep in your violent eyes

Deep in your violent eyes? Was it a love song? If it was, it was the strangest one he had heard before.

He continued listening.

But I want to be sure of one thing That I'm getting into something peaceful I want to fly in on your wing Way, way up here I don't care for anything It's all in, and I'm not afraid I don't fear Falling

There was no doubt about it. The song was indeed about falling in love.

Mirage felt a sharp prick of indignation. Were you in love with someone? He had to assume so, considering that you didn’t seem to sing anything else. It was always this song. Who were you in love with, and why did he care so much?

He wasn’t sure, but the idea of you with someone else made Mirage’s engines rev and his face contort disgustedly. You were his buddy, his pal, his partner in crime. Why did you need some stupid, boring human, when you could hang out with him? Speaking of which, when was the last time the two of you had hung out of late? You hadn’t been together much since he’d been repaired. Well, with his room claimed and little else to do, Mirage decided that tonight was as good as any to get in some bonding time.

He transformed, revving his engine loudly as he waited for the automatic garage door to open for him. His wheels spun on the spot in a move that would have burned rubber on any ordinary car. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened enough for him to slip through and he sped off, ignoring every speed limit he came across; if Prime gave him the third degree about laying low later, he would claim ignorance and take whatever punishment he was given.

When Mirage got to your house, he honked his horn loudly, waiting for you to open your window and see him. He couldn’t transform into his root-mode while a few seedy humans lingered about, so he had to wait for you to get to him… presuming you weren’t with someone lame, like a crush you hadn’t mentioned.

At the commotion, you poked your head out of the window, grinning when you saw Mirage. You held up two fingers, indicating that you would be two minutes and then hastily got changed from your pyjamas back into your day clothes. Grabbing your keys, you ran outside and climbed into Mirage’s passenger seat, buckling up in case he decided to take off before speaking as he was prone to do; buckling up was indeed a wise choice as Mirage took speedily to the streets.

“So,” You asked casually, “Business or pleasure?”

“Have you ever seen me do business? Business is for the big guy, you know, never smiles, never shows me that underbite, the big OP,” Mirage sassed you.

“I dunno, you seemed pretty business when you fought Scourge for me.”

“For you? No, no, no, I was fighting Scourge just for the sake of being the tri-planet champion.”

“Tri-planet champion?” You repeated incredulously. “You only fought him on Earth.”

“Yeah, but he’s from Galvatron, the living freaking planet. He fought on the Maximals’ planet, and he came here. Count ‘em – One, two, three. So, I digress, Tri-planet Champion.”

“Well, technically Noah was the one to face off with him, so-”

“Yeah, while he was inside me.”

“Okay, but Optimus was the one who took him offline.”

“Look, Optimus is always gonna be the champion of frowning and hard stares, a class I can’t compete in, so this is my thing.”

“All right,” You held up your hands in mock defeat. “You’re the champion.”

“Damn straight.”

“…Is the Champion going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere, Anywhere the road takes us. Just sit back and relax. We could listen to some music,” Mirage suggested innocently, his hidden agenda on his processor.

“Sure, then I can be the champion of karaoke,” You bragged.

“Against my voice? In your dreams.”

“Oh, so you can fight, race, and sing? Triple threat.”

Mirage laughed and turned on his radio. He let a few songs play, letting you sing along while he distractedly kept his inner workings tuned on finding the Alison Moyet hit. It would likely play soon, considering its popularity.

After a few good tunes, Mirage managed to find the song and he switched channels.

“Oh hey, I’ve heard this one before,” He said nonchalantly, “This is that sappy love song, right?“

“I don’t think it’s that sappy,” You defended with a smile.

“Oh yeah? Why? Does it make you think of someone special or something?”

You imagined how easy it would be to tell Mirage the the ‘someone special’ was him; as it turned out, it wouldn’t be easy at all. You clamped your mouth shut, a blush peppering your cheeks.

“So there is someone!” Mirage said all too accusingly. “You won’t be needing me anymore then, when this new person comes into your life.”

“You sound angry.”

“No I don’t!” Mirage replied huffily, proving your point. “You know what? I don’t think I like this song after all.”

He turned the radio off and the two of you sat in awkward silence. He kept on driving, slamming down on the accelerator. There was a lot of noise from honking cars as he sped in and out of their way.

“Just tell me who it is!” Mirage demanded petulantly when the silence finally got to him. “Is it Noah? He’s probably your type, right?”

“Why do you care?” You asked, annoyed and upset by the turn of events from nice drive to speedy interrogation.

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you asking so many questions?”

“I just feel I deserve to know who it is.”

“NO YOU DON’T!” You yelled back. “THEY’RE MY FEELINGS”

“AND I’M YOUR FRIEND,” Mirage countered as if that ought to give him the right to know everything you thought.

“This is so stupid,” You breathed, shaking your head.

“Come on!” Mirage insisted. “Tell me!”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me-”

Against Mirage’s frustrating onslaught, you finally yelled, “IT’S YOU!”

Mirage slammed hard on the breaks and you lurched forward, hissing as the seatbelt bit painfully into your collar bone. Fortunately, you were in an area with no cars on the road, having got off the interstate some time ago.

“What?” Mirage asked.

“It’s nothing, just… take me home, please,” You begged, scared now that you had said too much.

“You like me? Like romantically? You like me romantically? You romantically like me?”

“You done with the combinations?” You said bitterly.

“But I’m- I’m an alien.”

“Yeah,” You threw your hands up. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. Now will you please take me home?”

Mirage transformed his arm, pulling you out of his chassis as the rest of his body followed suit. From his palm, you looked down to the floor, wondering whether it would be better to jump and get a concussion rather than have the embarrassing conversation that was about to follow.

“I don’t get it,” Mirage said, staring at you as if you were a complicated mathematics problem.

“I know,” You said, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as if it might protect you from the sorrow you were feeling.

“No, but like, I really don’t get it. I thought you were just a friend, and kind of cool but I think- I think I feel the same way, maybe?”

You watched Mirage guardedly, unsure as to why he was asking you when it was his feelings that were scrambled.

“Look, Mirage, you don’t have to pity me, okay? Please don’t test yourself on me. I know I’m not what you’d look for and-”

Mirage pressed his lips against yours then hastily pulled away. You stared at him, too scared to speak.

He nodded to himself, pecked your lips again, and then vented a quick puff of air from his systems.

“Yeah, yep, yes,” He stammered. “That- That was a feeling. A-ha. Yeah, so I just found out I have a thing for you too.”

“You serious?” You asked, making sure that Mirage was alright as he stumbled through a barrage of new feelings.

“Yeah, I uh- I get the song now. Still don’t love it, but I get it.”

“Seriously? You’re still thinking about the song?”

“Hey, I’m thinking about a lot of things at once here (Y/N), mostly how I’m going to explain this to Prime later, a little bit about how this is going to work, and yeah, the song slipped in there. Frankly, I think we need to get you more into Bon Jovi, but I guess this could be our song or whatever.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “This was not how I pictured any of this going.”

“Yeah,” Mirage nodded, pacing back and forth, the motion rocking you on his palm, “But at least we got a song, right? Most new couples got nothing.”

Despite your tiredness, you couldn’t help smiling at his straightforward manner of thinking, “Sure, Mirage. At least we have a song.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #tf #transformers rise of the beasts #optimus prime #bumblebee #arcee #mirage #mirage x reader #mirage x you #falling #alison moyet

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anki-of-beleriand · 3 months

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Bad Liar ch. 16

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: The aftermath of the confrontation with Vision, and the realities Wanda now needs to face.

Guys, we are almost there!!! Two chaptrs to go! Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 16

New Year’s Eve

There was a constant beeping inside your head.

Your mind broke into several images at first, your ears twitching trying to grasp the source of the beeping noise without any success. At first, it was difficult to get a hold of your consciousness, your mind was a pool of different sections of memory that made you dizzy at first, then it stopped.

A gun.

Screams.

Wanda!

The beeping became a deafening whistle and then it stopped.

Your eyes popped open only for you to close them again with an exclamation of pain leaving your lips. You tried to lift your left arm but it was heavy, numb to any other sensation; thus, trying to protect your eyes from the lights above your head was impossible. You grunted, clenching your eyes close tightly, until a soothing hand placed itself on your right hand.

“Y/N?” America mumbled softly; her voice denoted the tiredness the young woman felt though there were traces of excitement right there. “Y/N?”

“Ugh, just give me a few minutes, I feel like my head is going to explode.” You whispered back making a face while trying to open your eyes once more, this time around slowly and squinting your eyes so as not to bother the retina.

America sighed in relief, her lips drawing a sad smile while she grasped her sister’s hand. The moment she had been brought into the hospital; America feared the worst but was soon calmed down by Tony telling her nothing too life threatening had happened. Just a gunshot on the arm, and a few badly cured wounds and bruises you couldn’t keep up with any longer.

“Wha-What happened? Wanda…Wanda, the kids…America!”

You jerked awake completely almost falling on your side while trying to sit up, America jumped away only to go back to you trying to push you back on the bed. She frowned, shaking her head until her eyes finally found yours, reading in them the desperation you had been experimenting all day.

“I’m here, they are here, we’re fine.” America tried to sound reassuring, pressing you back on the bed, “come on stop struggling, you idiot! You’re hurt and need to take it easy for a moment.”

It wasn’t until then that you noticed the bandages covering your sister’s wrists, she too held some bruises and cuts on her face but otherwise America was unharmed. Your eyes went big, this time around you lifted your good arm cupping your sister’s face.

“Kiddo, are you alright? God, I’m so sorry…”

America swallowed down her emotions nodding curtly, “I’m…I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Your wrists…”

“I-I cut myself trying to get away from the ropes.” She explained looking at the bandages, “I couldn’t and perhaps if I had done so…”

“You would be dead.” You replied wrapping your right arm around your sister putting her to you. “I’m sorry, I put you in danger kiddo, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry.”

America slumped down holding onto you with tears forming in her eyes, her arms sneaking under your body until she was hugging you tightly. You felt your own tears prickling in your eyes, holding onto the only family you had left.

“I was so scared.” She whispered between sobs, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry that…that she didn’t tell you everything.”

You blinked slowly while pushing America away for a moment, you tilted your head trying to sit down. America soon was by your side lifting the bed and helping your position on the bed, she was still crying softly but relief was quite evident in her features.

“What do you mean everything? Who was supposed to tell me everything?” You dragged the words tilting your head, America tensed with her brows knitting together.

“Wanda.” She spat out shaking her head, “Me and the others found out she had been living with that asshole for a time now, I confronted her when things with you were getting serious, she told me she would speak with you but…”

“Wait, you knew about Wanda’s husband? You dug into her past without consulting me?” You snorted, shaking your head, “she told me about Vision. She told me…”

“That he almost killed her and the twins several times? That the last time she was put into the hospital she decided that was enough because the man burned a knife on Tommy’s back while she was out?” America exclaimed with her voice getting louder and louder with every word.

“That the man had a restrained order? That…that, I almost lost you?” America was shaking by now, it was as if she had been containing herself until that point and seeing you like this, all hurt and weak finally broke the resistance inside her.

“It is her fault! It’s all Wanda’s fault!”

You winced trying to incorporate, almost falling on your knees you grabbed America and pulled her towards you hugging her as tight as you could. A part of you understood where this was coming from, America had never seen your parents’ bodies the way you had to, she had only gone to the funeral so she was never there to see their broken bodies still, the trauma lingers and the fear that was trying to consume America was something you had already experienced. You were her only family, if she lost you then what would be of her?

She hugged you back sobbing silently against your chest, your body protested at the stress you were putting it into but you didn’t care. You waited until America seemed to calm down, your voice finally reaching out to her more logical part instead of her emotional one.

“It’s okay to be angry, Kiddo, it’s okay…” You whispered with your hand drawing soothing circles on her back, “but it’s not Wanda’s fault, or yours, or mine…Kiddo, what others do, what others decide to do is not our fault…This is the fault of a man that wanted to be evil, Wanda was just a victim, like you, like me…but we cannot blame ourselves when he is the one that should be carrying with this.”

America took a breath holding back her rage and her fear, she didn't agree nor she denied your words, instead she stepped back giving you a quick check up. You were wearing a hospital gown, your left arm had been put on a sling holding your arm tightly against your chest. Your face was covered in bruises, with your hair badly combed with a paleness that came with the concussion and the tiredness you felt the day before.

“You were lucky,” America stated pointing to your arm, “the crazy woman, she went mad shooting like crazy she just hit your arm, the…they have to shoot her down.”

You gulped nodding curtly while glancing at your arm, you didn't remember much after the initial shooting. But you remembered the burning pain, the numbness going on your left side and then just giving into darkness.

“What about…?” You didn't finish the question, America shook her head.

“He was arrested, not before he almost killed Wanda with his bare hands.”

America had heard enough from Tony and that one eyed man, she had been taking care of the twins when this was mentioned and of course she had seen Wanda come into the emergency room right after you. Everything had been so confusing she could barely remember anymore, or at least tried to pinpoint where to go whenever she felt lost. Kate had been released early in the day and while she offered to stay, America knew Kate’s mother would want to be with her.

You sat down on the bed again, your knees trembling under the weight of your body. You winced finally feeling the effects of the medication wear off.

“How is Wanda?” You asked tentatively, America tensed up nodding to the door.

“She is at the other end of the hall, with Billy and Tommy.” Then after a moment of hesitation, “Hope is with them.”

“Have you talked to Hope already?” You inquired lifting a brow at your sister, the young woman shrugged looking away from you. “America…”

“I'm just happy you are okay.” America let herself drop right beside you, you smiled wrapping your good arm around her.

“I'm happy you and the others are okay.”

America sighed, closing her eyes, “do you want something? I need to tell the doctor and the nurse you are okay.”

“It's Vodka an option?” You teased, America snorted, shaking her head.

“I can try.”

“Please do, and while you're at it try to record their reaction.”

America chuckled, pushing you playfully while standing up.

“If you're cracking bad jokes already, that means we will be home on time for the New Year celebrations.”

You frowned, cocking your head while speaking again.

“What do you mean? What day is today?”

This time around America was the one frowning, “It's New Year's Eve, more exactly we are eight hours away from the new year.”

“Woah, so I was unconscious what? Twelve hours?”

“More or less, yes.”

“I was lucky.” You stated absentmindedly, America glanced at you for a long time before nodding.

“We were lucky.” America didn’t say much after that, you furrowed your brows trying to actually feel the strength coming back to your body.

“Even if I’m not release today, we should celebrate New Year today,” you dared to glance at America who pursed her lips nodding curtly, “I mean, we shouldn’t stop celebrating the good things in life, and well…”

America let out a heavy sigh, she passed around the room stopping right in front of you. Her hands placed carefully on your shoulders and for the very first time you saw your stepmother in her, the same determination behind her brown eyes and her serious features.

“I have never felt so afraid before, Y/N, and while I was there trying to get away I was…I was feeling powerless to help the twins, to help Kate, to help Wanda.” America trailed off never breaking her eyes contact with you, she swallowed down her tears opening her mouth with a quivering lip.

“I thought what you would do, and when I heard him said he had killed you,” America snorted, “I was ready to do something foolish, yet I felt so defeated.”

“America…” You started but she then broke into a half smile, shrugging while squeezing your shoulders comfortingly.

“Then I heard you were okay, that you were trying to get me and the twins out of it and I knew.” America rolled her eyes punching you lightly on your good shoulder.

“What did you knew know?” You asked when America didn’t elaborate, the young woman lifted her chin stepping back nearing the door.

“That you are in love with Wanda, that you love those kids as if they were your own, and that you would never let anything bad happen to me or them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself.”

You broke into the same smile, shaking your head you offered a sheepish stare to America.

“What can I say? It is the foolish in me, perhaps in another life I was a hero.”

“Perhaps, you doofus, I think…it would take time, but I understand.” She mumbled with her eyes shining lightly.

“I know, kiddo, I know.” You called to her and she stopped right before closing the door, “I think more now than ever they will need a big sister, you know?”

America snorted shaking her head, “it’s good then that I learnt how to be a good big sister from the best.”

And with that, America left you alone while she went to look for the doctors. You kept your eyes on the white door for a long time, your mind numb giving into the growing pain on your left side. You didn’t dare to let your thoughts wander towards Wanda or the twins for fear of just jumping to your feet and running to her room. Whatever had happened, whatever stated she was in the last thing you wanted to do was to overwhelm her or scared her away. You could still remember the fear in her eyes, the sudden changed in her whole demeanour while she gave into a state of numbness that broke your heart.

You took a deep breath, looking around you found America’s mobile and after a moment of hesitation you grabbed the gadget watching the time and the day. With a trembling thumb, you decided that you wouldn’t let this to change things with Wanda or America or even Billy and Tommy.

A plan already forming on your mind.

__________________

It took fifteen minutes for everyone to come rushing into your room as soon as the news of you waking up reached them up.

As you expected it, Christine and Strange were the first to come rushing into your room ready to check over your wounds and bandages. Your chest exploded into a wave of warm affection when they started fuzzing around you making you go back to the bed to make a full check-up while asking questions about your physical health.

Soon Hope came in as well with Tony, Reed and Sue who had made sure to be there as well. This time around the questions changed into a more deep, emotional speech to find your emotional state, with everyone being careful of mentioning Wanda or her children. When it became too much, and your anguish grew without everyone taking noticed of this, Christine and Pepper came right in hushing everyone out of your room with only America, Christine, Hope and Pepper staying behind.

You closed your eyes slowly, wincing when the shifting on the bed made you pressed your weight on your left side.

“Easy there, Y/N, it would take some time to get use to it but the pain won’t last that long.” Christine spoke soothingly, she offered a shaky smile at you while helping you get comfortable. “You were really lucky she was bad with guns, and her aim.”

You gave a crooked smile, “I was lucky indeed.”

Hope glanced at America then at you, the exchanged didn’t go amiss by you and soon your eyes were on your best friend.

“How is Wanda?” Finally, after almost two hours of avoiding the topic you brought the white elephant into the room.

Hope sighed stepping closer to you, “she is not okay, this really shake whatever progress we made in the past and has been affecting her greatly. She feels guilty, she feels as if she doesn’t deserve you.”

“She actually thinks you hate her.” America chimed in playing with her lower lip, “and I may have led her to believe she was right.”

You glared at your sister but said nothing, it was okay. It was only natural. The situation had been less than ideal, and everyone reacted differently to these situations, you couldn’t blame America more so than you could blame Wanda or yourself. Hope grabbed your right hand squeezing comfortingly.

“She will need a lot of support, Y/N, if you…” Hope took a deep breath, “if you are serious about her, about a relationship with her then I suggested you start working on convincing her that she deserves to be happy. And that you don’t hate her.”

You looked away finding Christine’s eyes on yours, the young woman smiled gently at you already knowing the answer. You nodded turning to America then to Hope.

“I am very serious, Hope. I wouldn’t have done what I did with just anyone.” You stated serious grabbing your best friend tightly, “I fell in love with Wanda because of who she is, I don’t know if she feels the same or if she even is ready for this but I won’t give up.”

“I know, Y/N. It will take time but…well, I cannot say she feels the same, I can say though that she really feels strongly about you.” Hope shrugged stepping back, “so, who knows?”

“Right.” You sighed turning to the door then back to Hope and Christine, “I need a favour.”

“What is it?” You offered a half smiled wiggling your brows and soon America knew you had planned something incredible reckless and crazy.

Christine and Pepper exchanged a glance pretty familiar with the mischievous glint of your stare ready to see where this favour of you lead them.

____________________________

You were ready to go out of your room, you were tired already of staying in bed more so if there was no need for you to stay overnight.

“You really should try to follow Christine’s advice,” America mumbled helping you inside your pants while shaking her head, you almost fall flat on your ass if America hadn’t hold onto you.

“Ugh, please I’m okay, just bruised and in pain but at least I can get dress, and besides I want to see Wanda and I wasn’t about to flash my but to everyone in this wing.” You glared at the hospital gown before turning to your sister.

America winced making a face at the mention of your butt.

“Yes, I agreed, we don’t need that anymore than we need to.”

You chuckled sitting down on the bed while watching as America went to grab your sneakers and put them on you. Just as she was finishing up the last of them the door to your room opened without any warning, you were about to scold at whoever had come in unannounced when you found yourself staring at Nick Fury and Peggy Carter.

Both agents came into your room, closing the door behind them. Peggy stepped closer her eyes checking you up before the fell on America. The older woman offered a warm smile stretching her hand to your sister.

“You must be Ms. Chavez, I’m Agent Peggy Carter.” America took her hand lifting a brow at her.

“A pleasure.”

“So, agent Carter, Agent Fury, what can I do for you?” You asked right away with your eyes going from Peggy to Fury.

“We came here to inquire about your injuries and your general state,” Peggy started taking a seat on the closest chair, “and then, if you were agreeable to the idea, we are also here to take your testimony.”

“As you can imagine, the case against Jarvis is going to take high priority since he broke into a private airport handle by National Security so, now only is he under some federal charges, he is also being investigate for terrorism and treason.”

You snorted shaking your head, not really understanding how all those charges came to be but happy to know the man would have it really difficult to go out of the trouble he got into. America stood right there glancing at you then at the agents, she bounced on her feet before nodding curtly to herself grabbing her phone and moving to the door.

“In that case, I’m out of here and directly to help Christine and the others with your…surprised.”

“Go on, Kiddo, I’ll be in Wanda’s room if you need anything.”

Peggy watched as America left before settling her eyes on you, Fury took a seat on the sofa and soon both agents had their attention on you.

“Well, where should I start?” You finally asked, Peggy put her phone on the table the recording app on.

“You can start from the beginning, when did you meet Wanda and how you became involve with her, and Jarvis.”

You raised a single eyebrow before nodding, for a moment you kept silent contemplating how much had happened in the last six months of your life. With a deep breath, you started telling them the first day you met Wanda, the different encounters, and the conversations you held with her. It was not relevant, but soon just to humour yourself you started talking about your changing feelings, how you started seeing the other woman and the shaky friendship that blossom one day when you first got to see the scars of the abuse in the boys.

The story then went directly to the confrontation you had with him the day before. His words inviting you over to see something he had been working on, then the surprised attack and you fighting back up until the moment they showed up and cooked up the plan that almost cost you your life and Wanda’s life as well. Peggy shifted uncomfortable, her eyes glancing fast to Nick then back at you.

“Now, I want to know what happen to him,” you asked glancing at both agents, “You promised me nothing bad would happen and I got shot and Wanda was almost killed by the man.”

The reproach was quite evident in your voice, Peggy glanced at Fury then back at you, she leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees making sure you could not look away from her.

“He was already on top of Wanda by the time Agatha shoot you,” Peggy shifted as she recounted what happened while you were unconscious on the ground, “we were supposed to arrest him right there and then, but we never expected him to get to Wanda and tried to strangle her before we could pull him away from her.”

“He knew he had been caught, so his last act before going to jail was to make sure he would kill his wife.” Fury continued shrugging, “he was just a fucking coward.”

Peggy glared at Fury but the man didn’t even flinch, you scowled shaking your head.

“What is a dead woman if he is the sole survivor and the only guardian to his children?” You snorted, shaking your head, “he knew you needed him alive if you were to keep building a case against the criminal organisation he had been stealing from.”

Peggy nodded curtly, not even bothering in denying your words. clenching your jaw, you sit up trying to get out of the bed, Fury stepped forward helping you out of the bed while holding you up.

“I will make sure that man doesn't see the light of another day, Agent Carter, he tried to kill me and my family.”

“I know.” She replied softening slightly, “I'm sorry you have to go through that, you and Wanda…”

“Whatever information he is offering you, I can double it. You have my resources at your full disposal as long as there is written guarantee he won't have the kids custody; his name will be erased from their records.”

Fury lifted a single eyebrow quite impressively while Peggy tried to hold back her expression into a neutral facade. You shrugged pointing a finger to the door.

“I don't know if the movies are real or not, but if the government can make it happen I want that man like the iron mask prisoner from Dumas’ book.”

This time around Peggy cracked a smile nodding curtly, “I shouldn't tell you this but, he wouldn't be our first iron mask prisoner.”

You opened your eyes before squinting them with a hint of suspicion there.

“I can't promise you he would be put away in such a secure place, but I can promise you the other part of your request. He won't have any claim on the children or his ex-wife or his freedom.”

“Good, now I think I'm going to see my girlfriend. If you excuse me, you gave me the perfect chance to run from this place.”

Fury and Peggy watched you leave the office, Peggy waited until she heard your footsteps far along the hall.

“So, tell me why we never recruit her?”

“Her father threatened to skin you and Steve alive if you ever tried it.”

“Right, like father, like daughter.”

_________________

The energy you had spent re-telling your story for the last six months was soon building up again. Your hand hover above the doorknob of Wanda’s room, with you standing right outside waiting for courage and the right words to find a way into your mouth.

You played the words of Hope inside your head, and you went over what America and everyone else had told you so far about Wanda’s real physical and emotional state. You needed to play this right so as to ensure Wanda would not run from you; you lifted your face ready to go in when a couple of questions creep into your mind, what if Wanda really didn’t want anything with you? What if things really change?

The white door was suddenly heavier, bigger and it stood before you as a silent guardian of what was at the other end. You remembered your sister's anger, the fragility of life as your left arm pulsated with the ghost of a bullet piercing your skin and muscle.

Wanda.

Everything you did up to that point had been for her, right? Then, why were you hesitating?

With more courage that you felt, you grabbed the doorknob and pushed through.

The room had the light of the TV projecting colours of a children’s program on the wall, there was only a single lamp projecting a different light resting on the bedside table. You stepped into the room closing the door behind you and effectively calling the attention of the little lumps resting on the sofa. Billy and Tommy both turned to the door, their eyes growing wide while they expression changed from one of boredom and tiredness to one of happiness.

It caught you by surprised to see as the both of them came rushing to you meeting you halfway and wrapping their arms around you. You winced when Billy got to you first, he crushed into your left side while Tommy grabbed your right side.

“Hey guys,” you greeted them softly, wrapping your good arm around Tommy while later on ruffling Billy’s hair, “it’s good to know you guys are okay.”

“Mommy said…” Billy trailed off stepping away from you, frowning he then pointed to the sling, “she said dad hurt you.”

Tommy pressed his lips together looking down in shame, “we’re sorry.”

You opened your eyes kneeling while putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Tommy.” You replied looking at the boy before turning your eyes to his brother, “never felt sorry for what other’s do, guys. He hurt me, but it was not your fault.”

Billy clenched his jaw close stepping closer to you, “he hurt mommy too, and Tommy.”

Tommy trembled feeling the tears in his eyes, you softened your features cupping his face while offering a smile to Tommy.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Tommy, but he won’t be able to do so anymore, I promise.” Tommy then stepped towards you hugging you tightly hiding his face on your neck.

You wrapped your good arm around him drawing soothing circles on his back, you could see Billy hesitating though this time around he was looking at you with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Are you…mad? Mommy said you saved her but…she was crying.” Billy furrowed his brows glancing at the bed where his mother was resting then back at you, “I don’t want mommy crying anymore.”

Your heart melted right away, these boys had been in constant fear yet always ready to defend and protect their mother. You shook your head nodding to Billy to come closer to you.

“I’m not mad, Billy. I was worried sick about you guys, and Wanda, I love you guys.” You said without a hint of hesitation, “and I’m sorry I was not there to make sure nothing bad happen to you, or Tommy or Wanda. But I promise you, this won’t happen again. And he…he won’t be able to hurt you again.”

“You promise?” Billy said lifting his right hand, putting his little finger out, “you pinkie swear it?”

You held back your smile, you let go of Tommy for a moment taking Billy’s finger with yours.

“I swear it, Billy.”

And you meant it.

You would do anything that was in your power to protect this family from any harm, they didn’t deserve to keep on suffering the way they had done in the past and if you could offer them something different you would do so.

Billy nodded curtly before he too came into your arms hugging your tightly, you closed your eyes for a moment enjoying the embrace these two kids were sharing with you. You smiled when they let go of you and put their fingers on their lips turning to the bed where Wanda was still sleeping.

It wasn’t until that moment that you noticed the state she was in.

If at any point you doubt your love for Wanda, and what the future held for the both of you it soon crumbled under the weight of your emotions and your beating heart. Your eyes softened at the sight of Wanda sleeping on a hospital bed, there was nothing relaxed on her expression and the way she seemed to be clenching her jaw and fist told you she was probably having a bad dream.

“Dad hurt mommy.” Billy mumbled looking up at you, “can you make her feel better?”

“I will try, kiddo, why don’t you and Tommy go back to the sofa, okay?” The twins glanced at one another then back at you and then at their mother before nodding and running back to the sofa.

You stood by Wanda’s bed taking in the bruises on her face and the bandages covering parts of her body. You were trembling by now, your hand lifting to touch at the bandages covering her neck. The man had tried to make s much damage as he could, and Wanda was now paying a price she shouldn’t be paying. You made a silent promise to the skies to never let anyone or anything hurt her the way Vision had done so.

With a softness that surprised you, you grabbed her hand in yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand while leaning in to place a single kiss on her forehead.

Wanda stirred with her eyes popping opened all of a sudden, you could see the flash of panic in those green orbs and the tension of her body pushing her to almost sit up and put herself in unnecessary risk.

“Hey, wait, it's me, Wands.” You tried to soothe her, this time around you placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, tilting your head. You tried to offer a shaky smile but Wanda just shook her head trying to get away from your touch leaving out exclamations of pain from her lips.

“Hey, Wands, wait…” You tried to calm her down, with the twins standing up coming to the bed while looking at you and then at Wanda.

“Y/N? Mommy?” Billy asked tentatively, hearing her son was enough to make Wanda returned her attention to them then back to you.

“Hey, love it’s okay.” You furrowed your brows, while Billy and Tommy were not understanding such a reaction for you was crystal clear what it meant.

The words from Hope came back, and now you understood what they really meant. The fear she was flashing on those green eyes were the silent symbol of the fear she was feeling of getting closer to you once more, of perhaps living the rejection coming from you and experimenting the hate she thought you had for her.

Wanda never lost the tension on her muscles, she tried to ignore you while turning to her children that were looking at her wide eyed.

“I’m okay.” She tried to speak but her voice came hoarse with dried undertones and broken words.

Billy frowned grabbing Tommy by the hand then turning to you and Wanda.

“Y/N is here, mommy. You can sleep again; she pinkie promise dad won’t hurt you. Ever again.”

While Billy offered a tentative smile to his mom you could see the widening of her eyes, and the tension coming back to her. You grabbed her hand, trying to be as careful as you could while making sure she returned her attention to you. Wanda pressed into the bed keeping her face hidden from you while keeping her hand limp.

“Wanda, look at me, please.” You spoke clearly, without demanding but asking as a favour.

After what seemed like an eternity the young woman turned to you and the tears were filling up her eyes.

“You want some water?” You asked lifting your good hand to brush some locks of hair away from her face, “I notice your voice was hoarse and…well, I know why but perhaps cold water can help some with the swelling.”

Wanda felt her lower lip shivered, she was trembling waiting for you to start screaming at her, for the words of finality to leave your mouth. But you never changed your posture, or the softness behind your expression, or even the tender caresses from your hand. You locked your eyes to hers lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Well? You want water or, I can also offer you some Vodka, but that will cost you a kiss at least.”

You chuckled when Tommy and Billy made gaging sounds before erupting in giggles and going back to the sofa. Wanda frowned opening her mouth ready to speak, but with her breath caught in her throat when you placed a single finger on her lips.

“Don’t, Princess, try to not put any unnecessary stress on your voice. Let me bring you the water, and then…” you trailed off leaning, “then we will talk.”

Wanda trembled nodding slightly, you winked at her and then asked the boys if they wanted something to drink asking them to come with you while leaving the room for a moment.

Wanda was soon left alone with her thoughts, she thought the first time she would see you again after the whole ordeal she would be far away, perhaps ready and strong to face your hatred and the finality of whatever relationship you two had built in the last couple of weeks. She had been waiting for you to hate her, to perhaps blame her for what had happened the way America had done so hours ago.

She never expected you to behave the way you were doing, or for you to offer her the smile she loved so much. Or for you to just be you. She held back her tears, her heart beating heart against her chest while she tried to quiet down any whispers of hope that had been trying to grow inside her head and heart, she couldn’t allow herself to hope only for you to perhaps coming back with a breakup and hurtful words against her. Her heart wouldn’t take it.

Ten minutes later you came back alone, your lips curled into a sheepish smile while lifting a glass of water with a straw.

“America and her friends were down in the cafeteria, and Balder was there and the twins wanted to talk to him, I hope you don’t mind.” You stepped closer to Wanda helping her up before offering the straw. “Here, drink some water.”

The woman hesitated before drinking form the straw, her face broke into a mask of pure relief while wincing lightly feeling her throat pulsated with the water flowing inside her. She then opened her eyes, looking directly into yours.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered looking away for a moment, getting ready with the huge speech she had prepared in your absence, her mouth opened but whatever she had prepared came crushing down and the only thing she could say was a shaky, “I’m sorry.”

“Wanda…” You started but the other woman put a hand on yours gripping your tightly, her green eyes big and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…I…It wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me…”

You could hear and see the effort she was making into talking, her voice was trembling just above a hoarse whisper. You waited until it was impossible for her to continue and then, you leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Love.” You whispered for her only, breaking into a tender smile while letting her see the love you felt for her.

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks her lips trembling. You brushed your hand against her cheek, wiping away the tears while brushing her hair.

“I have never had so much fear in my life that the fear I felt knowing I couldn’t stop him on time and you and the twins and my sister were in danger.” You said softly, furrowing your brows while looking at Wanda.

“I was so afraid that something was to happen to you and them, when I finally got him to leave the kids and America behind my next concern was to make sure you were okay.” This time around you let your fingertips trace a line to the bandages around her neck.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Wands.”

“Why?” She finally asked, and that single question held everything she wanted to tell you.

Why were you still there with her? Why did you keep coming for her? Why?

You opened your eyes blinking away a couple of times, “I thought it was obvious.”

Wanda furrowed her brows shaking her head, you softened leaning in making sure she was looking deeply into your eyes.

“Because I’m in love with you, Wanda, and from the moment I met you I realized I want nothing more than to make you and the boys happy.” You shrugged offering a tender smile, “I thought it was that obvious, but let me correct that, from now on I will show you every day how much I love you, and I will tell you so, to make sure you know without a glimpse of a doubt.”

Wanda felt her lip quivered, she wanted to say so many things. She wanted to ask for your forgiveness because if she had told you the full story of Vision nothing would have happened. She wanted to tell you that she would understand if you wanted to end whatever it was the both of you have, she had put you and your sister in danger and she would understand. She would understand if you hated her, if you wanted to leave.

And then, you came over to crash all of these thoughts by confessing the most wonderful thing to her. She felt her heart stopped for a moment, and soon she opened her mouth wanting to tell you the same, that she had been in love with you from quite some time. She locked her eyes with yours, her mouth opened ready to say those words…

I love you.

She gripped your hand tightly, and your heart broke at the fragility you found there. Your own tears welling up your eyes, offering a comforting smile when you hold her hand.

“I know.” You said to her silent confession.

She lowered her gaze, gasping when you brushed your lips against hers.

“Wanda, I know life has not been easy or kind to you, but I want you to know that I will be here for you, for Billy and for Tommy.” You all but whispered to her, “whenever you are ready, I still be here, and I won’t leave unless you tell me to. So, you better be ready because, If you want to, I’ll be by your side until we are old and living in an Italian coast watching our grandchildren grow.”

Wanda offered a shaky smile clenching her eyes closed thinking she really didn't deserve you. Or happiness. When she opened her eyes again, you were still there smiling softly at her, and Wanda had to ask herself if she was ready to be with you in such a way. To finally step forward and give herself to you. You whispered sweet, comforting words to her, trying to ease out the sobs leaving Wanda’s lips until the young woman finally fell into an easy sleep.

-------------------------------------------

Wanda was not sure when she fell asleep, her body stirred painfully under the weight of recovery and sleepiness. She could hear the muffled conversation happening in her room, and the excited chatter coming from her children but her eyes refused to open, only giving her the comfort of the sounds of conversation.

She let the voices soothe her worries, her heart shrank deeply hearing the snickered from her son's and the conviction behind your voice. She loved the tenderness in which America chided them but also the way she conspired with the twins. Wanda didn't know when she let the smile showed on her face, but the moment she opened her eyes your hand was comfortingly wrapped around hers.

“Hey, sleepy head, are you ready?” Your question caught Wanda by surprise, she furrowed her brows opening her mouth only to close it again.

You chuckled turning to the bedside table lifting the glass of water with straw that was left there by a nurse. You offered the straw to Wanda and, after some hesitation, she drank some of it trying to clear her throat while locking her eyes with yours.

“Ready for what?” She finally said in a raspy, guttural voice wincing at the effort.

“For New Year’s celebration, of course!”

It wasn't until then that the young woman noticed the change in your clothing. You were wearing a loose shirt, your left arm still wrapped around the sling, your legs covered by a nice black jean and some Vans. Your hair out up in a ponytail, freshly washed and ready for an afternoon stroll apparently. She turned to see the twins were both wearing black and khaki jeans with matching jackets and light blue shirts. America wore a beautiful dress and everyone was just ready to go out, Wanda tried to sit up with her eyes slightly open glancing around her room with her heart beating fast and a tingling down her abdomen.

“I brought you a dress that Billy and Tommy select, and a nice coat because, baby is cold outside.”

You chuckled winking at America who rolled her eyes making gagging sounds while Wanda returned your smile blushing lightly.

“I would offer to help you get dressed, but you know…” you pointed to your arm sheepishly, “Nat is coming over and we will wait upstairs, don't take too long, Wands.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but soon enough her words tangled on her throat when you leaned in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Just go with the flow, love.” You winked walking backwards before hurrying everyone out of the room.

The room soon felt empty, with just a tad of cold breeze making Wanda shivered. She sat on the bed for a moment until the door of her room opened and there was Natasha with a huge smile.

“I hope you're ready because Y/N really outdo herself this time around.”

Wanda was not sure what to say, the tears were back and her heart was just trembling under the raw affection trying to overwhelm her. Soon her eyes fell upon the dress, Wanda narrowed her eyes trying to calm herself down while letting the older woman assist her still confused as to what exactly was happening and not obtaining any direct answers from the redhead.

“Nu-uh, you will have to wait, Wanda, and you won't regret it.”

Half an hour later Wanda and Natasha were making their way to the elevator of the Hospital, not many people were left in the halls. Midnight was almost there, and many were either in their rooms, on their homes, or on the rooftop. You waited patiently by the elevator, your eyes growing big when you took in the appearance of Wanda who was holding Natasha tightly.

“You look beautiful,” you stepped closer offering your arm to her, Wanda hesitated before taking yours her cheeks burning brightly while her eyes lowering shyly.

“You look good, too.” She replied softly, you chuckled winking at Wanda.

“I want you to have the best New Year’s celebration ever, we were supposed to go to Stepehen and Christine’s party but…since we can, I brought the party to you.”

You explained while standing in front you Wanda, the young woman furrowed her brows turning to the open door of the elevator then back at you. For Wanda you were a box filled with surprises, one after the other, you had always shocked her in ways she never thought possible. She gulped wincing when her spit went down her sore throat, closing her eyes she then lifted her hand to cup the side of your face stepping closer to you.

“I wish I could show you the same, our date was cut short last time,” she shook her head stopping any reply from you, you clamped your mouth shut letting her finish, “I’m sorry about everything, I still think I don’t deserve you…but I will make sure to be worthy of your love, of your company.”

Your heart leaped forward, and your eyes fluttered close when Wanda leaned in kissing you tentatively on the lips. It took you a moment, and soon the both of you were sharing the softest kiss you had ever experienced in your life. By the time the both of you parted, you two were equally flustered, smiling at the other with the same affection growing in your eyes.

“Well, then let’s go.” You said holding onto Wanda and leading her to the elevator where a very amused Natasha had waited all along.

When the doors of the elevator opened in front of you, you smiled hearing the gasp coming from Wanda. The young woman stepped forward glancing around the place while admiring the decorations and the people filling out the place. The night was completely dark, with a cold breeze traveling around the celebrations goers that were wearing heavy coats and drinking warm beverages.

The place had been decorated with lights and torches, tables were set up and many patients with their families and friends were sharing light conversation and food, doctors, nurses and staff members had also been invited and all of them had also chosen different tables to enjoy the music and the tension just before the clock hit midnight.

Wanda turned to you, and you could only smile at her shrugging.

“I thought we need to start the new year with a huge celebration, not on a hospital bed.” You said simply earning yourself a tight hug before she grabbed your hand dragging you down the different tables to the furthest part of the rooftop.

The lights of the city twinkling down the streets, and the music was sometimes interrupted by the host of the radio station someone had put on. Wanda approached the group and soon she found many familiar faces she had met before, she stopped dead on her tracks with you wrapping your arms around her midsection while putting your lips on her ear.

“I told you I call everyone.” You whispered making her shivered under the caress of your voice.

Wanda soon spotted her children talking with Balder and Morgan, while America was standing with her friends laughing and drinking alcohol free cocktails. At the other end was Hope with Reed and Sue, and nearby was Tony, Thor, Sif, Pepper, Stephen and Christine all sharing a good meal. There were to spots free right beside Christine, facing Eleanor Bishop that was trying very hard to not glare at you.

“Thank you.” She whispered at you, you winked at her pointing to the table.

“Let’s go to eat.”

“Here they are!” Tony stood up calling everyone’s attention, he lifted a hand then pointing at you and Wanda just as you two took your seats, “please everyone, let’s give it up for these two women that had shown us that the power of love can do everything and anything!”

You rolled your eyes with your lips drawing a smile, while Wanda dipped her face trying to covered the blush on her cheeks. Soon conversation resumed, and Wand found herself the subject of Christine’s fuzzing.

“Now, I know this may be difficult at first, but nothing spicy, or acid or anything like that, I chose your food for today, and only cold drinks. Well, lukewarm so as to not to hurt yourself.”

You chuckled grabbing your fork with your good hand watching as Wanda gaped at Christine who was like a mother hen trying to tell the young woman what was good for her sore throat. The table was buzzing with light conversation, the food was soon finished and the dessert along with the flutes of champagne were brought over. All around the rooftop people were getting ready to receive the new year, people glancing at their watches while others were just calling their loved ones.

“Are you guys ready?” America came from behind the both of you, you turned around seeing as America rested her stare on Wanda.

Wanda shifted nervously nodding while offering a tentative smile to the young woman. For a moment you waited, you knew America had been mad, she had told you as much as well as the heavy discussion she had with the redhead. But after you spoke with your sister, you thought whatever disagreement she had with Wanda had been cleared out.

“Wanda, I just…” America started, you could see as Wanda tensed clenching her fist while leaning back with her eyes lowering to the ground, “I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. It was not your fault, I just… Y/N is my family, and I almost lost her, I…”

Wanda shook her head placing a hand on top of America’s, her eyes going wide opened gleaming in disbelief.

“No, I’m sorry.” Wanda replied hoarsely, she put a hand on her throat standing up. “I’m sorry, I put you and Y/N in danger, I…”

America did something you never thought possible, she stepped closer wrapping her arms around the woman holding her tightly.

“Stop talking, you fool, you’re going to hurt yourself even more.” She said tenderly, “don’t apologise, I’m sorry for the way I treat you, it was not fair.”

America looked out of the corner of her eyes to see your smile there, she returned the smile before stepping back grabbing Wanda’s hand in hers before grabbing yours and joining them with hers wrapping around your joined hands with Wanda.

“I know there is no one better to be with my sister than you, just don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t.” Wanda whispered looking at you, you stood up intertwining your fingers with hers.

“I won’t either.”

“Good, now get ready is about to be midnight.”

Wanda turned to you, everyone was getting ready around you. You could see the hesitation in her eyes, with a nod of your head you locked your eyes with hers offering a comforting smile.

“It is going to be okay.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Wanda replied, she closed her eyes allowing the comforting squeeze from your hand to warm up her heart.

“Whatever happens, Wands, I want to be right there with you. I want to live with you, to grow old with you…to love you, if you let me.” You said softly, “you deserve forgiveness, and you deserve happiness, Love.”

“I'm scared.” Wanda confessed while unable to tell you the reason behind her fear.

She didn't need to tell you, though. You knew, you could imagine the guilt and the fear she held inside her mind for everything that happened, for the things that came in between. You placed a soft kiss on her hair, putting her closer to you.

“Me too.” You replied, chuckling lightly, “but I prefer to be scared and have you by my side than miss the chance to be with you.”

“You're so sappy.” she leaned back offering a teasing smile you returned with a wink.

“Only for you, Princess.”

Wanda relaxed in your embrace, everyone started standing up checking their watches and grabbing the flutes of champagne.

“Okay everyone, it's about time!”

The music stopped and soon it was replaced for the local radio station in which the announcers were ready as everyone else to start the countdown to the new year.

The rooftop vibrated with excitement, families and friends came together, everyone talking and exchanging their new year's resolutions.

Wanda stepped back welcoming her children in her arms, and America stood right beside you with Kate hugging her from behind. Your eyes soon found those of Wanda and the man in the radio start counting.

“10, 9, 8…”

You chuckled when the twins jumped excitedly, Billy dragging his mom closer to you while also grabbing his brother.

Kate watched the scene with a softening stare kissing America on her cheek.

“You guys look like a happy family.”

“...3, 2, 1 Happy New Year America!!”

The fireworks broke into the sky, everyone gasped and celebrated while Wanda leaned in tilting her head and kissing you openly in front of everyone. Wanda never imagined her year would end in such a way, when she ran away from Vision’s grasp she did so with one thing in mind: To survive.

Now, standing on the rooftop of a hospital with a woman kissing her slowly, tentatively, she realized that love was possible, that being loved was something she also deserved, and that loving someone might not be as bad as she was led to believe. Just as you stepped back with a huge grin adorning your face, Wanda knew.

You two would be forever.

_______________________________________

Next Chapter: Wanda and Reader need to have that date, only family fluff and a bright future ahead of them. With some decisions to be taken, and Wanda finally giving in.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader

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gaymaramada · 5 months

Text

Rise! Boys with a S/O that vocally stims by singing:

Leonardo

He thinks it's adorable.

Likes to sit with you while you work/study because you always hum along to whatever music you're listening to.

Constantly tries to get different songs he likes stuck in your head so he can hear you sing them.

If you're humming a song he knows he'll start singing along with you.

It turns into a whole karaoke session.

“Oh my god, is that Britney?!”

Sometimes he’ll catch you singing the same lyric over and over again and he’ll tap your head:

“Should I call a handyman? I think my record player’s broken.”

Donatello

He has a similar vocal stim!! He often finds himself whistling when he’s focused on something.

He likes to have you with him in his lab — he enjoys the steady background noise and finds your voice soothing.

If the two of you are hanging out, you may end up trying to harmonize with one another.

(It’s unsuccessful, but it’s the thought that counts)

If you're humming for long periods of time, he'll have you take a break so as to not strain your voice:

"Y/N, you've been humming for the past half hour. How is your throat? Let me finish attaching this part and we can find something to do."

He helps to distract you with something so you can rest your voice, whether it be by the two of you grabbing some food or watching a movie.

Raphael

He loves the sound of your voice! He’s super impressed by how good you sound.

It took him a while to realize it was a stim, but when you kept looping the same song over and over one day, it began to click.

He’ll ask what song you're singing all the time.

He ends up staring at you with the most lovey-dovey smile on his face.

Sing him to sleep. Please.

He’s not above teasing you when you sing the same tune for a long time:

“Sweetheart, I love you, but Raph’s not sure he can handle another week of Mr. Bluesky.”

Michelangelo

He sings with you!!

He hums a lot while drawing/painting/etc. so he completely gets it.

Sometimes when you get really into the song, he’ll start to hype you up:

“Ooh! Sing it, baby!”

God forbid you get a sad or angsty song stuck in your head, though.

He will confront you.

“Good Afternoon! Welcome to Dr. Feelings’ seminar: The Mitski Effect. I’ve noticed you’ve been humming First Love / Late Spring a lot lately—”

Apart from that, he’s perfect company for when your voice just needs to come out.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #donatello hamato #raphael hamato #michelangelo hamato #leonardo x reader #donatello x reader #raphael x reader #michelangelo x reader #imagines #rottmnt imagines

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cu7ie · 11 months

Text

boredom.

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و investigating a noise in an alley late at night turns into so much more. haitani ran x reader x haitani rindou. word count: 5.4k

cw; dubious consent, brief depictions of fighting and violence. spit-roasting. minor stalking (?) + intimidation, fear.

The day passes, and your boss informs you that 'your workplace attitude is contributing to a loss in morale'. Or in other words,

your coworkers have been complaining about you.

probably the customers too.

Sometimes they say things to your face, (sometimes, because most times their comments can't pierce the veil of existential dread, stagnation. Thoughts buzz around fly-like, about how there's nothing here,

nothing for you) stupid shit, because the seniors always have something to say…

("Look excited for once, rookie. People want to see pretty smiles, you look so ugly frowning.

"At least pretend you want to be here."

one of your supervisors. So far up your ass she's coming out of your mouth.

and you love old people, but she is the rickety-ist old bitch you've ever had the displeasure of knowing.

"You can get more tips if you do a little … 'extra'. You're cute, so it should be easy for you."

Random customer you don't remember asking for an opinion, you just wanted to see if they wanted refills on wine,)

You're getting tired and people are starting to notice. You don't argue, because they're right. You're not happy, and that bothers them so much, for reasons that probably don't have much to actually do with you. They care, but not really, so when you're sent home with the day's wages, the boss tells you in a not-so-nice way to clean up your act.

Don't be so sad. (Or rather, make sure they don't know about it.)

You collect your things and opt for the long walk home. Shibuya's streets are empty (ish) and peaceful about this time of night.

The wind whistles.

It threads between the leaves of trees that hadn't yet died, providing you some company,

The noise. And maybe you're paranoid, unused to walking without headphones (you dumped the contents of your bag to check, you either lost them or left them at home), unused to seeing

the empty streets when there's usually a dozen hawkers flagging down passerby to sample wares. Because you're starting to hear something.

(First, you think it's your mind that makes the wind sound like whispers, moving smoothly along the shell of your ear. Some imagined ramblings. But that's not it at all.

There's actually someone here. Or people. Nearby.)

For once, you're certain you're not crazy. You're definitely hearing something. You don't want to look behind you, but you do just to avoid any creeps who might be lurking. The sound of chatter grows the slightest bit more intense, and —

KLANG!

A brilliant crash (definitely not behind you) that sounds like metal bashing into something just as tough, the residual sound causing your ears to ring. It , unlike many things recently, intrigued you.

You've never possessed an interest in gangs. Never have been.

(This whole situation reeks of them, though. You either don't think or you don't care—)

Not interested in their whereabouts, potential people of interest, they don't make you curious (or maybe it's a privilege to not be curious),

What happens to them never really concerns you.

So why now, are you stepping in front of this alleyway? Why did you choose that this time, on a frigid night walk home, you'll be interested. You'll be concerned with the sounds of commotion in the alley.

… This feels like boredom. It feels like exhaustion has pushed you to your limit. You crave dissent. Novelty, actually being a part of something. Maybe you need it so desperately that in this moment,

You reach out to touch the darkness. A gaping maw of shadow. Light does not enter and it does not escape. This place looks a bit like

Those kinds of places, where you could go missing. Get lost. In some kind of adventure, and that ambition clamps down on that drowning anxiety, making you feel quite bold. Nobody will know you came here. (Nobody will know that, in spite of the pit in your stomach, in spite of the fear, in spite of the sweat in your palm, the tremble in your knees,

you stepped forward.) The shadow swallows you up to your ankle, then your body is engulfed in the darkness.

You've never disappeared before. You think it'll be okay (hopefully), that it might fulfill something within you that's been desperately missing; maybe it'll be better than

being safe,

than being

comfortable.

Just a quick peek. You'll only be gone for a second.

(you think the voices get louder and you shift, narrowly avoiding a shallow bacteria laden puddle, using the wall to quickly navigate while placing emphasis on not being seen by anyone if they happened to run past. You don't hear movement, but the talking gets louder as you get closer, and closer, and closer, and …)

(The talking has become more like shouting, and the silence from before has been replaced by the sound of a fierce impact, cracking, crashing, more yelling. Everything is loud now, the moon and street light cascading down on the scene but not revealing your position, flattened against the alley wall.)

"Rinnie.." A tall fellow sighs, his shoulders sagging forward with effort, and ‘Rinnie’ a good ways away from him looking crazy with some sort of excitement. The tall one, dead amused eyes and two braids pigtails framing his face, dark roots growing towards blond tips.

The little one is the kind of bleach - platinum - blonde, maybe a shade or two less yellow. He shares a similar look to the man standing adjacent to him, but his hair is frizzy and wild, sticking to his forehead. The tall one looks scuffed up and his eyes look tired, betraying the hint of a lip curl, a smile, maybe?

What exactly did you stumble onto? You lean in closer to catch the words that fall from their mouths, careful not to step onto the bottles and cans discarded on the ground.

"Rin rin, you might kill him before we can learn anything useful." ‘Rin’, is the belligerent one, his fist dully thudding and knocking across the face of an unknown man sprawled out on the floor, who doesn’t appear to be moving. The man must already be unconscious, or worse- dead - the flurry of blows not affecting him in any way you can discern from here.

"Ahaha! But Ran, this is really fun!"

Thwack! Rin’s right knuckle catches on the man’s cheek, his other fist flying with assuredness and dead-on accuracy towards his stomach.

It is only then that the body groans, and his struggling renewed somewhat. Rin’s arm pulls back with poisonous intent, all the muscles in his fist perfectly poised to,

Hurt and maim.

Ran hooks Rin’s arm in his wrist and drags him off of their victim, who lies cowering before them, too weak to flee or do much but shake like a leaf.

"Okay. Okaaaaay. Now you're making it no fun." Ran drags Rin to his feet; doesn't respond with anything other than a snort and a shove. Rin only barely avoids flying into some refuse, his distress blowing his pupils as big as saucers, easing into relief as he stumbles and catches his balance. They look like a fever dream in the streetlights, an anomaly that should have remained hidden from you and walking down this alley has never felt like a utterly terrible idea until now - They drag the man to the side of the building and prop him up. They smile at one another, as though there’s a joke lingering in the air that nobody’s let you in on.

It makes you shiver.

Just as cold shakes start to wrack your body, your teeth chitter for a fraction of a second; just a bit too loudly. Their heads begin to turn. Directly facing away from the light, their expressions are encased in darkness,

And while you thought they may be drunk or delirious, or both, the mood shifts neigh instantly, and you frantically clasp your hand over your mouth and stop breathing. They are looking dead at you. You don’t know if their pause is because they don’t exactly see you but instead, shadow, but your arms tense up and feel like coiled springs attached to your shoulders; legs trembling trying to maintain balance and not fall and make a sound.

You don’t move.

Your eyes burn because you don’t blink and you’re sweating, lying in anxious wait. They don’t close in at once, because when Rin says “Ran,” that dastardly tree of a man lumbers towards the mouth of the alley and,

He, who is not fooled by the darkness,

Dragging you out flailing, on your back and dragging your nice leather jacket across gunky, disgusting pavement -

You gasp as the tall one forces you to your feet, shoving your back into a wall and evacuating the air from your lungs. You immediately launch into a frantic explanation, your lip blubbering and your body shaking and your eyes wandering to that man up against the wall - who takes advantage of their utter fascination with you, and tries to crawl off.

Rin kicks him in the ribs and sends him sprawling. Back to you, being held up by your neck, lightly enough that he’s not choking you, and you can breathe and speak freely. Their eyes narrow at you, the baton slung on the tall one’s hip looking none too friendly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” “Shut up.” Considering your franticness he sounds quite playful, although the growing pressure behind his grip is not friendly in the slightest. He squeezes your throat and Rin is the one who laughs then, slithering up to your side and giving you a long, long look up and down. “You’ve interrupted some important business here,” He says, gesturing to the battered man with his open hand, “But you think yourself more important, huh? Quite a pesky little shit aren't ya?" Ran finishes the statement, and the look you fix him with is frantic, wild eyed. “But that’s okay. Clearly you have something important to share." Rin smiles coolly. His demeanor unsettles you, (feels like his eyes pierce you, makes your heart pound out of your chest, your fingers tremble,) your mind is screaming to go far away. “So tell us,” The tall one hisses through an artificial smile, coldly amused, voice rough on the ears, “Who are you, and what’s in it for us if we let you go?” Rin slides a finger down the side of your waist, making you shiver. “I .. uh..” “Uh? Uhm? That doesn’t sound like any name I've ever heard of.” They laugh at you, and something about their ridicule triggers something in you… tired of being harangued and hung out to dry, mounting tension threatening to collapse you. Your legs buckle. You feel yourself begin to cry.

"Aww. Don't cry… we were just playing with you." Ran leans uncomfortably close, wet sheen on your cheeks glimmering in dim light. Rin sees his brother lick a slow stripe up your cheek, doesn't say anything. You whimper, petrified.

Ran's eyes bore into yours. "Who are you?"

You tell them your name. "I … I wait tables! I was just trying to get home from work I - I - I-"

"Through back alleys? It's like you're asking to get hurt." The one named Rin mutters, and Ran, who seems wise to your lies, presses you.

"You weren't getting home anytime soon, hunched over in that alleyway. You were watching us." He moves from in front of you and grasps the back of your skull, forcing you to stare at the battered man a few feet away. "Do you know him?"

You shake your head frantically.

"Then why the fuck are you here?"

"I just - I heard something. I heard something and I thought, I thought .." You struggle to find the words to describe your thought process. Rin helps you out.

"You must've thought: 'Oh, those guys must be having so much fun! I want to play too!'. " The blonde mocks the lilt of your voice. The one with the pigtails barks out laughter, pulls your head back until your neck bends, staring you in your eyes. "Our … friend over there is all played out. But,"

"You're not. Playing with you for a bit sounds fun. Oh, Rin?"

"We should walk our new friend home. Seems like the polite thing to do, yes? Wouldn't want them to get hurt. There's dangerous people lurking at this hour." His smile is particularly wicked, your anxiety mounting.

"Sure thing, Ran."

….

They call someone else to take care of the man, ( you can't tell if he's still alive - they usher you out of that liminal space expeditiously,) terribly eager to dip into something else that night. You tell them your address at their goading, the two men leading you through alley's and backroads you never even knew about. As you exit the dark, the moon can be seen from where you've emerged from in-between buildings, faces of the men surrounding you lighting up at once.

It's hard to describe the emotion you feel upon meeting eyes with such striking faces. Distinctly similar, uniqueness to be found in both, (Ran looks nonchalant, at ease in his movement. Rin remains stern and orderly above all, offsetting his brother’s lack of care,)

When you talk to them, they don't divulge anything personal, not even their names, (they know you know them already) but you notice they seem more interested in you than you'd expect them to be, taking turns asking questions, fixing one another with this look whenever you answer a question a certain way. It’s nice to have people listen to you - or at least do a good job pretending. They don’t seem … as threatening as they did in the alley.

Rin is more cordial and polite, and talks to you more emphatically than Ran does. He seems unbothered by your chatter, but is less active of a participant.

From what they observe, you seem to be a particular person. Even though you are scared (your fear, it makes you look so beautiful, vulnerable), you aren't boring. You're not trying to impress them, but they find themselves intrigued regardless.

They fish for information.

You are an open book.

They learn more about where you work and the assholes that run the joint. They learn about your small family. They learn about how you don't have many friends. You mention you used to have a roommate, although -

"She moved away, maybe a couple months back." You talk without fear now, acclimated to their presence for the time being, for your sanity's sake.

"Oh? How sad." Rindou says, and a part of you feels like he's mocking you.

Ran makes the mental note that you live alone. They've begun walking closer to you, occasionally bumping into you on purpose because they know you won't complain or argue about it. Ran's hand slips into your back pocket while you're talking to Rindou, and the expression of shock, then embarrassment as you feel him squeeze—

"You were saying?" Rin glances at you.

"Yeah, sorry - uh… " Your face burns (you know Rin knows what’s happening, you see the way his eyes narrow, you see his lip twitch) and you don't know how to recover so you don't say anything. It's a safe option; he doesn't badger you.

For a few minutes, your moonlit walk is dead quiet. Rin doesn't touch you, but Ran has hooked his arm around your waist and is poking his fingers into the top of your jeans. You don't do anything to stop him.

His fingers are fast and he is not courteous he is not polite,

when the palm of his hand zips down and two fingers stroke your clit you gasp. Ran tugs on your waist and your hip bumps his a little as he slowly runs his finger over that sensitive piece of flesh. You feel like your skin burns where his finger meets your clit, and you can't suppress your whine as he pushes on it,

(It's like your body jumped out of your skin and he was striking a nerve, raw. You're on fire you're on fire you're on fire)

And Rin only looks straight ahead, his mouth opening like he wants to say something -

But your building is coming into view.

You gesture to your side of the complex (Ran takes his hand out of your pants, for now) and they walk you inside the building, patiently wait for the elevator with you,

And you are suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of your emotion; which upon retrospection, felt like your brain had gone numb. Your stunningly composed self becomes a trainwreck in the four elevator stops (and short walk) it takes to get to your apartment. You feel dizzy with how hot your body has gotten and how tight and uncomfortable even your skin feels,

And you're mewling and whining,

"Th-thanks for walking me home," many flustered thanks, appreciative hugs, trying to wave them away from the door, but they get inside before you do (when Rin whispers ´Let me help you’, your skin gets goosebumps and you toss him the key), and act as if for a moment they were the kind of people that you'd want in your house.

Rin is commenting on your art, 'critiquing' (shaming) your arrangements and decor, touching nothing, taking up no space,

While Ran is on everything, everywhere, all at once. He's opening your fridge and taking out the drink you were trying to save for later, flipping through the tabs you left on your computer and,

Maybe they could be friends, with the way they both get so comfortable. But eventually their eyes start drifting over,

to you. Sat on your couch, house burning down around you, you've gone too far, too deep, and they are not going to let you go. (it's not like that was the plan, anyway).

…

Ran mentioned something about playing earlier, didn't he? You hadn't a mind to negotiate a 'fair exchange' for them walking you home on such a dark night. Maybe you hoped they'd just forget about it.

(They don't. You know because before they make you show them where the bedroom is, Ran pokes his fingers through the belt loops on your jeans and tells you how much of a courtesy he brought you back, he could have fucked you and left you in the alley.

"But I didn't." Ran smiles, and you can only imagine what Rin's face looks like. Though, you can feel him on your back, grinding his erection into you.

"Just relax." Rin leans to your ear, lips close enough to kiss the shell of it. "We'll play nice, won't we Ran?"

The aforementioned laughs once, reaching for your belt buckle. "Speak for yourself." )

Your bedroom isn’t terribly small but your massive mattress takes up most of the space. Ran doesn’t care about kicking around your things to get to the bed easier, dipping down and baring his teeth to your neck, nibbling. Rindou does not knock over a thing (he picks up a figurine that you hadn’t noticed had turned over, flicks on your lamp, mutters something) walking between your door and hurrying himself along to the bed alongside Ran.

At that point, you’ve already been undressed from the waist down, your clothing discarded on your living room couch. You’ve been pushed back first onto your bed, Ran is on top kissing you with the feverishness of a school boy, his tongue slipping into your mouth (which surprised you, your pussy throbbed a little) and his hand slipping down towards your cunt.

You make a mewling sound as he rubs circles on your clit, and Rin groans loud enough for you to remember he’s still here, “Jackass, you’ve been hogging them the whole night. You said-” Ran pulls back molasses-slow, fixing Rindou with a look you can’t read. “I know what I said. You don’t have to get so emotional over it, Rin. See?” He pushes himself up on his arms and leaves you there, gesturing with a sweeping motion. “I was just getting them ready for you.” Rin snorts, grabbing your arms. “Whatever. Now, you.�� Your eyes meet, but the intensity in his is unlike Ran’s. Something about him seems more driven. Came here for something, refusing to leave without it. “Flip over. Get on your stomach. Make sure your head is hanging off the bed.” You don’t hesitate to do as he says.

Ran steps into your view, tugging on the band of his boxers until his cockhead is visible from the top. You try not to drool. He pushes his cock between your pillowy lips, letting out a long low whistle.

"Just relax. Open your mouth a little wider - that's it - just like that .." Ran is already groaning and barely half his dick is inside your mouth, but drool is racing down your chin and you have forgotten how to breathe out of your nostrils. He cups the back of your head.

"Eyes up." Tears sting at your eyes at your lack of oxygen and Ran just smiles dreamily downward at you, his brother out of your sight entirely. Now you’re as bare as the day you were born, courtesy of Ran, and you nearly forget about Rin until you feel firm hands spreading your legs; a damp muscle wriggle and work it's way in between your folds so boldly,

You cry out, groaning on Ran's cock. It's too big and your jaw has to work and strain and it hurts but he makes you do it anyway (his smell is rich between his legs, and he keeps reminding you to breathe through your nose), telling you how much of a good job you're doing.

"... you're good at this. I didn't think you were a slut though… maybe …"

"It's just a natural talent. Like you were born to suck dick."

He thrusts his hips and holds your face so that he's in your throat, and no matter how hard you beat at his thighs he does not give. You wiggle and squirm, Rin's hands clamping around your hips and giving you less room to breathe. You're so occupied with the dick in your mouth that you don't notice how wet Rin has gotten you.

His brother has all your attention. Even when he stands at attention and lines himself up, you don't notice. It's only when he's pulling your hips towards his, that you feel the blunt head of his cock probing at your pussy and waiting for a good moment to

Thrust in, and as Ran pulls you off his cock to cum on your face, it's a perfect opportunity for Rin to pull you onto him, and the squeal you let out sounds absolutely delicious, (made his balls clench). He begins tentatively, resting a hand at the small of your back, and thrusting into you with as much force as he can muster behind his hips, enjoying hearing you whine and whimper (perhaps more than he expected). Your body is hot to the touch and your back is a little slick with your sweat.

Rin grunts with effort as he tries to fuck into you, getting some give as you grow weak in the hips. His cock feels like it's tearing you up, like he might break you before he night is done and the more you moan and squirm the rougher he gets, the slick sounds of his balls slapping against your clit drowning out the sound of your own thoughts.

(Ran has fun with you. You lick his cock clean as Rin speeds up so much he's practically fucking the breath out of your lungs. Your ass feels battered, your pussy abused —)

Rin has been noticeably quiet most of this time. Too focused on the sound of your yelps and the way your body dances beneath his fingertips. You move so much. He likes the little defiance in you. He has no problem fucking it out.

You grow to gripping Ran's legs for support cause you can't hold yourself up on the bed, the tingling burning feeling of strain zinging up the muscles in your legs.

“Ah! Oooh..” They’re teaching you new things about yourself. Wherever they caress you, the back of your head, along your spine, on your hips, it’s like you’ve been alight with fire. Ran makes sure you’re looking at him, and he’s cooing at you, feeding you crumbs of praise as he strokes under your chin affectionately. Your heart jumps a little at the fond look he gives you, the approval is pronounced and makes you feel warm and anxious all of the sudden, moreso when Ran presses a kiss to your temple.

"Almost." Rin says to no one in particular, his grip just shy of bruising. "Just … fuck." Rin slams your hips into his, his spine stiffening as he fucks a load inside you, pulling his cock out slow so he can see himself dripping down your legs.

What followed feels a little uncertain. You know they stuck around, but their words felt floaty and distant, fucked into a stupor, you seemed a bit … dotty. (Ran thinks it's cute. You don't talk, don't ask questions, just let them pet you. But Rin liked the tension in your muscles, that skeptic's gaze, that substance. Something about having you like this appeals to him, just less.) They came hot like a fever and left you feeling ice cold.

Rin, perhaps feeling sweet, helps you slip your nighty on before Ran is forcing him out of the door, chastising him for being so soft.

You wouldn't know.

You awake in a sea of blankets, with a salty taste in your mouth and this dull ache zapping up your spine…

You are late for work the next morning, but even as your alarm gets grating and beep, beep beeps a few feet away from your head, you're trying to shake off day dream after day dream — you get up when you realize your door was left unlocked, you rectify that, head back to bed. The supervisor who's in charge of arranging your schedule calls you, ten minutes before you are supposed to come in, and you are still lying down.

You honest to god do not have the heart to tell this withering old man over the phone that you can’t come in today. You can hear his voice sort of trembling over the phone (and you later learn that one of the head chefs quit earlier that day, this poor guy is this close to the edge) and decide you don’t need that weighing on your conscience in the future, a good enough reason to force labor upon yourself for the day. You feel weightless sitting in the tub washing off the prior night. In some places you can see indentations from fingers, lightly bruised skin around your hips, that your hands run over with your loofah and that sweet smelling body scrub,

You take your time, not urged by the ringing of your phone or alarm. Your mind decompresses and feels loosened by the steam that rises to the top of the room, fogging up your vision and keeping you warm even when you step out of the bath. Since last night, you notice you seem a lot more one track minded. There’s no dreading the shift, or fear about being asked to stay for overtime, or worry that your coworkers are going to say something to you (they always do, so fucking annoying). There’s nothing. Your head feels manageably empty. Something about it is relaxing, your underlying nervousness of ‘ Is there something i’m missing? Have I forgotten something? Am I doing something wrong?’ all gone.

You’re smiling in the cab to work. Maybe it’s been years since you went there having a positive expectation for today, you can’t remember and you don’t care. You work your shift and ignore your coworkers, boss and customers. They comment, because of course they have something to say.

“You look glowy. Something happen?”

“... I slept well?” Your supervisor rolls her eyes at you, but doesn’t belabor the point. “Must’ve been one helluva good night’s sleep, huh?”

You don’t respond, ready to clock out in the next thirty minutes, hoping and praying nobody keeps you from clocking out at 8:00, because the day’s been going sooo good for you so far,

But one of the managers ends up running in; out of breath, trying frantically to stop the kitchen staff from closing down for the night, from leaving. You’re stopped in lieu of all the commotion. Apparently some big-wigs from the city came in to eat, and would not accept the owner’s hurried apologies of ‘I’m sorry, but the kitchen is closing for the night,’; or their attempts at placation: ‘We can accept your patronage first thing tomorrow? A bottle of wine on the house?’. The owner looks frightened half to death by the time he comes across you, shocking you with the abruptness of his request.

“The… the patrons. Do you know them?” He whispers, deathly close to your ear. His lungs sound like they might collapse, and he looks hot and uncomfortable. “They requested you by name. I-i know you don’t like working overtime, but this could mean big tips.” You roll your eyes. “Move over man. Let me get my menus.” He clasps his hand together in prayer and in thanks, and you mentally prepare yourself to take an order for a much larger party.

There’s only two people sitting in the booth as you walk up, their silhouettes triggering your memory immediately. Ran turns lightning-quick, his expression giddy unlike anything else. He looks so pleased with himself, licking his lips like he’s slick as your confident power walk slows to a few steps.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice is so smooth, makes your ears tingle. Rindou is sat next to him, and looks up at you fondly for a moment. Looks back down at his hands after.

“So, Rin. Ran.” They look a little surprised you actually said their names, but Ran gives you a toothy grin, and leans a bit further forward.

“Here are your menus.” You set them down on the table, allow them to pursue the selection. “I’ll be back with your water.” You about face, looking nothing short of cool, level-headed professionalism. On the inside, you are screaming. Telling them so much maybe was a bad idea in hindsight, (because not only is this OT blowing you, but it’s hard to look them in the eyes, for a reason you haven’t yet grasped.) you sigh, trying to make it out of the end of dinner service without your heart giving in.

You try not to be curt with them but a part of you can’t help it. Ran knows what he’s gunning for, eyes alight with desire as he stares at you up and down in uniform for the first time. Like he’s just about ready to eat you up. He keeps staring at your lips. Rindou is ever the gentleman, is patient with you when you get flustered by Ran’s boldness, occasionally apologizing for the inappropriate comments he sprinkles in. From the moment he’s seen you, to the moment you take his order, serve him the food, give him the bill, he’s flapping his gums.

Rindou seems irritated by this at some point, fixing him with hot hard glares, kicking him under the table and eventually telling him to BE QUIET.

He says it with so much authority that when Ran gets as meek as a mouse, you can’t help but giggle from behind your palm. (Ran shoots you a look, but you ignore it.) Other than what he’s saying to you - working this job, you’ve heard far worse anyway - it’s not a hassle to deal with, maybe just a little awkward,

Because he says shit like:

“Hey sweetheart. There’s another kind of tip I could give you, too.” After he slides nearly half a stack into your uniform pants just because he can. That was probably (definitely) more money than both of their meals combined.

“Hey!” The tall one shouts from the threshold, a little drunk, and swaying from Rin tugging on his arm so hard.

“Maybe.. You get out of your little uniform and meet us outside. We’ll walk you home again.” You don’t say anything, but your face is burning.

“Maybe i’ll take you up on that offer. Some other time.” You bow politely and hurry back to the storage rooms, where your coworkers are packing up their things and heading out the back.

You sigh, taking your time changing out of your work uniform.

…

Imagine your surprise when you’re walking out, head down as you look in your bag and make sure everythings arranged how you like, easily accessible ..

And they’re still there.

Waiting for you.

#tokrev smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #ran haitani #rin haitani #ran haitani x reader #rin haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #rin haitani x you #tokyo revengers x you #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

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themotherofblood · 11 months

Text

mene payi taabahiyan | d.t x reader

part one | masterlist

synopsis; inspired by the song O bedardeya. The aftermath of Baelon being engaged to reader, you and Daemon battle through the fall out and the agony of it all

smut warning: unprotected, hate fuck (kinda? more like sad fuck) exhibitionism, against a tree.

There was no air left in the Throne Room, your hand clammy against Baelon’s hand clasped over yours. You were sure that if your hand had not rested against the larger palm of his - you would fall, face flat - a deer learning to walk again, your legs had begun to lose its function. How were you to bow with honour and nor could you look at your brother. Baelon pulled you down with him, as the static noise of applause finally filled your ears, the madness that was to follow lingered in your mind. Lords and Ladies took turns approaching both Targaryen princes, Daemon shuffled his way out of the Throne Room, leaving his new bride to be flushed and irked. Baelon received appraisals on your behalf as people simply put your blanked nervousness as you being overcome with emotions.

Your own lack of breath might have left you looking maniacal, your brother Quentel followed you out, his larger legs easily catching up to your hasty steps, his palm yanking you back. While his own heart ached seeing your distraught face, your broken pleas finally graced your lips. “wh- why wasn’t I told?” your bottom lip quivering “I won’t fight this, but why?”

“It was always the deal, my children would have but my sons cannot, sweet sister,” he tucked a piece of your hair behind, “You will be Queen-” his eyes coated with concern “it would end the wars, once and for all,”

“I wanted Daemon, it was Daemon,” you nibbled at your lip to stop your tears, “I love, Daemon,” you pulled yourself away from him, finding no strength within yourself as you ran for the stables. Whisking past all attendants and guests, fleeing from the turmoil that wasn’t just the Red Keep but within you. The gown you wore pushed against your chest as you looked for Nysa, the stable boy looked startled as he knew no better than whether to help you or stop you. You raced past the gates, Nysa galloping with all her might as you tore through the streets of King’s Landing to its exit.

Even with all the air whistling through your hair, your body found it lacking there of, all you knew was you couldn’t pretend to be shy nor accept congratulations for something that should have never happened to either of you. Baelon wanted no woman(very verbally), you knew of this; why would he? If your devotions for Daemon were any testament, how would you find one to bring your skin ablaze like he did yours. For once, perhaps in the goodness of your heart you thought of Rhae Royce, Daemon would chew her apart if he acknowledged her presence in his bloodline at all. Your heart aching for all four of you, tied to a bargain that neither of you benefited from. All for the Realm, all for the King. All for peace.

The moon’s milky light lit the damp leaves lining the woods, the darkness was no challenge nor fear to you than the turmoil you already were in. This time you wanted to run, truly run and yet you couldn’t ride Nysa all the way to Dorne, you couldn’t hide behind the viper’s nest if you wanted to. For all you know, it might ruin Dornish relations with the Realm for good, as each Prince or Princess made of hot Rhoynish blood would find something to squabble over. You could stop this once and for all, no more dragons blasting fire on your homeland, no more dead brothers on pyres.

You stopped right at the edge of the Kingswood, shuffling off your saddle as you twisted Nysa’s reins on your palm. Leading a much confused animal to the dark forest, she an animal yet found herself aware of your sorrow. Smaller fireflies along with the moon gave you a sense of direction as you walked deeper in the darkness, your gown catching onto twigs that you paid no mind to, you wanted away from here, you wanted to go far away…with Daemon. Oh, Daemon

He might have beaten his hands bloody against a sparring dummy, which in truth he did. After weaning himself away from his new betrothed, he stomped down to the courtyard, screaming and shuffling off weapons to the ground as in rage he punched a dummy. The pain tearing through his knuckles. Much of his attention was occupied by brutalising a sack of leather and cloth, nothing mattered to him. You stood there, shoulder against his father and refusing to look at him as if you knew, perhaps you knew. If you didn’t, he knew you, your rage and your heart. You would have pulled away but you never did.

You walked along him, you were no longer his, his lover, his princess. You were the princess royal now, you would be the Queen now. Sat below a man who swore to never touch another after Daemon's mother died, his mother. All the rules he broke yet he couldn’t understand what he did to deserve this, like air pulled from his own lungs - he knew not how to breathe, how he was without you.

The sound of hastened anklets echoed past the halls, very distinct anklets, the only anklets in all of King’s Landing. You hurried fast, a blur of yellow silk hurtling past the dim walkway towards the stables, it took a while for Daemon to realise who it was but when he did. His eyebrows pulled to a tight frown as he found himself mindlessly following behind, you long gone until he mounted a brown mare of his own. Galloping towards the Dragonpit, hoping to catch a glimpse of you from the skies, no horse could ever outmatch the affliction for speed Nysa had.

Caraxes swayed in the air like the Wyrm he was named, flying lower to find his rider’s lover. The shuffle of trees below, lining right under the green of the Kingswood, Caraxes landed himself right at the edge. Daemon lit a torch, you should have never ventured into these forests alone. Even in the pain, he couldn’t not worry, you were his responsibility until you said the words with his father at the Sept. You would always be his responsibility. Daemon waked into the dark, much aware that his dragon looked behind to prevent any harm coming to him, he knew where you would be. Where you’d always sit with your legs tucked together, only this time he wasn’t sure you were of yourself.

You sat at the edge of the hill, tears coating your face. The silence in you had engulfed yourself and began to cause you more pain, so far lost in the relentless hammering of your heart against your chest you couldn’t pay mind to rustling in the woods. Perhaps it was a boar, waiting to have you pummelled to death so your physical body would be just as mangled as your mind was. Instead out poured the silver of your lover’s hair, eyes weary as he looked around to find you, and found he did. You waited for his eyes to soften like they always did when he saw you but they never did, the tight frown his eyebrows curled to never ease. Even in the darkness, the glow of his anger that glimmered within the purple of orbs was apparent, violent and unforgiving.

The cries you wanted to form words now were long gone and the angered lecture Daemon was to present you with, too was long gone. With many stressors felt, not a word shared between the two of you. Such silence wasn’t comfortable, nor was it seductive. It was painful, like a white hot iron rod met human flesh, it stung and it stained. Daemon resorted to pacing as you turned back to the blackened scenery, rustles of his footsteps against the leaves and the night call of grasshoppers within the bushes only added to the comical misery of it all.

“We refuse it, we refuse it and we wed each other at Dragonstone,” Daemon rambled, groaning the harder he thought “grandsire cannot wed us if we are already wed to one another, he won’t compromise his deal with the Seven.” He scoffed at the thought of it, it sounded bitter, resentful.

“And have you, exiled? Much less my head on a spike,” you said, speaking only the truth of the matter for King Jaehereys had done much worse to his own blood for evading his orders. It was a fine thought yet a foolish one, to be wed and then be exiled away to Essos to live your lives as you see fit. Though you understood Daemon, if not his grandsire he would come to resent you for the pain of losing his family would eat at his wounds sooner than later.

“What do you propose we do then, huh!” He yells, full throated, it echoed through the woods. His eyes wide and breath hot, his frustration bubbling to a tipping point. “Do you want to be Queen, forsake us for this…this farce?”

“Do not yell at me Daemon!” You scolded him back, finger pointed hot at his face as you stood up to approach him. The Gods themselves would have found this argument rather entertaining, for their evil devices have now put you in this predicament: “this… marriage was a political arrangement, my brother gave his word!”

“Oh fuck his word, you cannot mean it,” he groaned approaching you with much haste, his fingertips digging into your forearms “he is my father, father!” Even in the glow of the moon, gloss over the lilac of his eyes remained apparent.

“Don’t you - I,” you rambled, yanking yourself away from his turmoil because to thicken the air around you “don’t you think I know that, I know that!” you shook your head, there wasn’t a way out of this. Not without hurting your family and by extension putting your House in jeopardy. “It would soften over many political troubles, Daemon truly.”

“Just keep your mouth- you are mine, you are mine and I am yours,” his eyes furious and glaring, his already bleeding heart being gaped open of its wounds by your words “say it, damn it.” he reached forward once more to yank your head back, he couldn’t handle you not looking at him. Yet he regretted seeing the torn frown spreading on your face, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. There was a vicious sense of destruction covering the anger his sorrow was turning to. The words that fell after weren’t him, but perhaps the fires within him “we could let them talk, couldn’t we princess? Let them know the sweet Martell flower sullied with dragon seed? Hmm,”

“Who would want a soiled Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,” his nostrils flared, his words rarely sounded sharp in his own head until a sharp slap rang down his ear, the sting radiating through his cheek. You pushed him away, on the verge of losing any last shred of composure holding your body on your feet.

“Fuck you Daemon,” you scoffed, chest heaving as the two of stared each other down, the moments away filling both your souls with such harrowing empty, a punishment worse than the black cells of the Keep. You wouldn’t survive this, you couldn’t. This time you charged at him, fingers digging into his jaw as you stood on your feet. Pressing your agony onto him through your lips, his own weight directed you backwards to the bark of the tree behind you.

Your lips never once left one another, the tasted of salted tears mixed with the taste of spiced wines on both your lips. Palms wet, as you pulled one another closer, not close enough - it wasn’t enough. That if you were to end this love, let it destroy you both once more. Daemon’s hands shuffled lower, skilled and hasty he felt the silks of your small clothes. His fingers swiped over your clothed core, perhaps your conscience swatted your moral back into you as you protested. You couldn’t, not her and not with the apt protection of lemon heads.

“Please,” Daemon whimpered, whimpered. Something you had never heard, when you pulled away you realised it was not just your own tears you had tasted. His forehead rested against your own, his breath hot against your lips.

You rested your head back on the bark, stroking the back of Daemon’s head. “Take me, take me Daemon,” you said, what other consequences were left to suffer than the fate you now had to face. You pulled at your skirts, bunching them at your hips as Daemon returned to lay his salacious affections upon your neck, letting his fingers yank down your small clothes as your fingers did his trousers.

You upper back nearly rubbed raw as you indulged into the arms of your lover, his head buried in your shoulder with your legs wrapped around his hips. The sweet sensitive tingling between your legs only made you cry harder as you pressed your lips against his temple “I’ll never love again,” you weeped, choking on your words as another moan ripped through your body.

“I’ll never live for anyone but you again.” he groaned, rutting his hips harder against yours as he chased his completion. His fingers rubbing tight circles upon your pearl, hoping to perhaps feel your cunny clench him empty one last time. The small yelps of pleasure echoed through the woods, the rustling of the leaves in the wind shielding this moment, frozen and intimate. You were sure search parties would be sent out to find you in no time. Your teeth sunk into the velvet pad upon Daemon shoulder, muffling the pleasure moans mixed with your tears as he snapped his hips to completion.

For the days to come, you succumbed to the orders of courts. Picking flowers and fabrics, being told what you liked, in which Baelon visited once to agree upon the fabrics of his doublet for the wedding. His late wife’s signet ring still adorning his little finger, you weren’t sure how any of this might take place. Were you to kiss at the altar and never see each other again? Baelon spoke of having you sailed to Dragonstone, said you might find comfort there but not once did he speak to you.

You had been summoned to the Small Council chambers once, to discuss a sensitive matter, one that wouldn’t have come to pass had the Old King not been so incessant about the number of heirs he had, with merely four left on the roster, your duty had only just begun as the Council demanded of a bedding ceremony. Their words had been far more colourful, painting all the reason why a room full of men should witness the deflowering of a young princess. Your body was rigid, there was nothing to deflower, you were no maiden and they would know. Baelon protested, palms slamming into the Council table with his fingers pointed at his father. This ordeal, painful as it is, he defended you, spoke of your honour and yet refused to let his soon to be wife suffer such humiliation in the name of customs.

You supposed the temper Daemon inherited had been apparent in that moment, as the proper Prince Baelon, spewed tinted words of his abilities to couple and create a child. The discussion dwindled to this, they wouldn't watch but remain in the chambers to ensure the deed was done and inspect the sheets. There wasn’t going to be a fight about this. You monotone motions as you followed your routine of lacing your arm with his as if you were to entertain together. You stopped him and he still escorted you to your chambers, you couldn’t look at him. They would find nothing.

“Daemon and I,” you began with a stutter, pulling yourself closer to step away from any onlookers “we -“ you shook you head, willing the words onto your lips “they won’t find blood.”

“They will,” Baelon’s voice stern yet understanding, you opened your mouth and closed it yet again. His silence willing you to believe whatever he might have devised to save your shame. “I have yet to apologise to you,” he hung his head.

“And I you,” you said moving away from the doorway of your chambers, Baelon looked to you confused. “It is no easy thing, you are forsaking much for the Realm,”

“You are wise darling,” he patted your palm rested on your knee. “I’ve watched you grow in these halls, you will be my wife in name, yes. You needn’t be afraid of me,” he gave you a tight lipped smile, a broken giggle tore through you and perhaps in weeks someone finally saw the pain you were in. After your night in the woods, Daemon drank himself silly in the tavern’s of Flea Bottom, with a fortnight he earned the title of the Prince of Flea Bottom.

Daemon’s wedding was to resume first, while his bride to be still seemed aloof to the tensions around her, Jaehereys had the City Watch contained to keep his grandson from running away, though hidden somewhere deep in the city. Daemon returned the night before his wedding, only to tear apart his chambers in a drunken rage, refusing to marry Rhea Royce still, how you often wished you were a Prince or Lord, then even you could exclaim you distaste in such a manner. Baelon tried to contain his son, rumours swirled that one could hear the proud Prince weep to his father, the reason unknown and many speculated that Rhea was too old for Daemon's tastes. How you wished it were true, that age is what kept Daemon so curt to his betrothed.

The night before the wedding, you couldn’t sleep as you paced or lounged staring at a wall the entire night, you were willing him to come to you. He never did, having fled to the brothels once again, you picked apart the embroidery on your shift the entire night. The sun peaked through when you realised sleep hadn’t visited you once. Your handmaidens took much care in dressing you, the hems of gowns dropped, more conservative. You looked at yourself and you couldn’t find yourself, merely the shell of the lady you were meant to be, the Queen.

The procession had gathered in the Iron Throne, parts of the court divided between the Throne Room and the Grand Sept where Daemon should have been an hour ago, the people of King’s Landing flocked to the streets to witness yet another royal wedding. Perhaps catch a glimpse of the bride to be or their notorious Prince. The halls called to you as you ventured towards Daemon's apartments, your own betrothed away from the feasts and sure to be barking sense into his son. The thrashes and sound of darkened protests could be heard from three floors below.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Daemon bellowed, jangles of armour followed after as he screamed and fought. Jaehaerys too had been in his rooms, the King ordering his grandson be hauled to Grand Sept. You hid behind a seated section, watching as the King slowly descended the steps. How could a man cause such strife within his family and continue on?

For much love that you adorned each other with, instead of earning each other’s names, destruction came knocking down your door. You regretted it, the second the image of Daemon’s face reddened with anger graced you, the urge of running away creeped up with bile around your throat. Jaehaerys already departed for his wheelhouse, leaving just you, Daemon and Baelon in the corridors. The small interruption of your figure popping from behind the curtains allowed Daemon to truly yank himself off the Kingsguard men.

It felt merciless, far too merciless as you stood in front of him. Bound to duty instead of him, yet you wanted him still. Daemon had wanted to hate you, for nights since your last encounter in the woods. You were deceitful, you were merciless in your decision. Fucking away any memory of you on painted whores and yet he couldnt, noting was soft enough, nothing was you. His lover, his cruel lover, you were subjecting him to this misery while you quietly lingered on your own. Heart of stone behind the yellow of your dress but your eyes still wet, he didn't need your pity as he shook his head, praying that seeing him in his maroon doublet would fill you with sense, mayhaps flee why you still had the chance. Even at six and ten, for you? He would cut through his grandsire’s Kingsgayrd like meat. You approached him, cautious and stiff, your arms engulfing him once more, just once more.

“Please go Daemon, without anymore quarrel,” you whispered in his ear, squeezing him harder. Even in the warmth of your embrace, his heart shattered, scattering to a million tiny pieces. Taking the final honour, he never expected you to, he expected you to fight for him, fight for your love and here you twist the knife harder in his green wounds. He went rigid, he lifted his head from your shoulder. Purple eyes, lifeless purple eyes looking over your face with one sorrowful smile. He pressed his lips to your forehead pulling away, the Kingsgaurd stood ready once more to drag Daemon to the Sept but this time he walked, his princely stride thudding down the steps without a second look to you, his tyrannical lover with your black heart. A decision of much political gravitas, your loyalty to your house, earned you nothing but the carnage of black burning bodies of what was you and Daemon.

Having witnessed the worst of it, the words Rhea and Daemon shared, their hands wrapped together, the gold and red woven cloak of House Targaryen upon her shoulders, the kiss that sealed their union in front of the eyes of the Seven, “cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder” the High Septon had said, could your future be anymore cursed then it already was? What was the next worst thing, your death? Mayhaps his? The feasting said and done, Daemon not once made any efforts to dance with his bride as he revelled in his cups, Rhea, the poor lady made an offer and attempts to perhaps ease the scowl settled on her husband’s face to no avail. His daggered eyes steadily remained on your figure, conversing and laughing, laughing with other ladies of the court. Many of whom flocked around you to perhaps make your roster of ladies in waiting.

The worst of it was Daemon resuming to his bedchambers to find Rhea, dressed in her corsage, dressed to stir his loins. A good bride awaiting to be bed by her noble husband, he didn’t mean to be curt but all he could do was scoff at her, a beautiful maiden and all he could think of was you. He couldn’t bed his new wife with the same indelicate manner he did with the whores of Silk Street. As he turned to leave, Rhea, annoyed by right, held onto his forearm “please, it is improper not consummate- we have to,” she urged him, feeling the brunt of what she had shrugged off for weeks. Her husband did not want her.

“I don’t have to do anything,’ Daemon yanked his hand free before leaving Rhea alone to sleep through her wedding night.

The days after followed the same, ships loaded in for the royal wedding for every inch of Known World. Your gown finished and resting in your receiving chambers, you too rested under the loopy haze of Nightshade prescribed by the Maesters, the misery apparently resulted in you forgetting to eat, or even having much water or wine. Your head pounded for days as you were thrusted up like a doll in front of the mirror, your gown being altered, the veiled being fitted and the gowns for formal receptions after. As ladies in your bedchambers giggled and gossiped, feasting on candied lemon cakes, your mind so heavily focused on the lace across your waist. You fell, gasps and attendants rushing to your aid as you laid unconscious on the stone floor.

Baelon was the first to be informed about his bride to be’s condition, your brother Quentel there after, when Daemon finally returned from the brothels, stinking of ale and far more salacious than when he left. As Daemon heard of your fall, his feet were quick towards your chambers. The curtains pulled to shield away the light of day, you laid rested against a mount of pillows. Aemma sat next to you, a book comically rested against the hard swell of her belly as her other hand caressed your head. Daemon curled his lips inot his mouth as he approached your sleeping frame.

When Aemma spotted him, she gave him a sympathetic smile as she kept stroking your head. Even in your sleep a frown framed your angelic face, Daemon wanted nothing more than to soothe it away but his heart still held its resentments. He looked up to his good sister, opening his mouth to speak but she knowing all too well of his queries, filled him in.

“I hadn’t realised she was hurting so,” Daemon whispered, your palm clutched in his hands as he stared up at your face, the frown, the darkening under your eyes. He should have seen the agony but in his own selfish ideations he didn’t. “We don’t have much liberty in these matters Daemon, she cannot whore or break things as you do,” Aemma lectured Daemon, tutting at him as he shuffled a little too hard.

“I was so consumed by her decision, I didn’t see why she made it,” he said sadly, still rubbing circles onto your palm. Aemma lightly chuckled.

“Us women never have a choice, it was already made for her she had to adhere to it with a stiff lip,” Aemma said, looking down at you with melancholy.

Daemon returned to his own bedchambers that night, still lingering in the thoughts of the conversation he had with his good sister, a woman learned and wise that lectured some sense into the prince. “Us women never have a choice,” any other prince of reason would respect the predicament their lover had put themselves in but Daemon was going to make a choice for you. A choice maligned by all the laws of Westeros, his name forbade him to do so, but he wouldn’t be his mother”s son if he didn’t. He dressed himself in armour and armed himself with Dark Sister. A boy, making the choice of a man as he pushed open the passage door from his bedchamber and made hasty steps towards yours.

Your sleeping form, just as warm and dazed as he left your moments before. This time he bent down down to kiss away the frown on your face before wrapping the black blanket over your body and scoping you up. A darkened bundle of bones and flesh in his hand, his love, his heart he smuggled through the walls of the Red Keep. His heart hammering against his chest, as skirted past the watchful eyes of the night guard. He walked with you in his arms, a hood pulled over his head to shield away the glaring blonde of his hair.

“Ñuha dãrilaros?” the dragonkeeper questioned as he looked at Daemon with you covered in black blanket, he would question some more until Daemon glared at him

“If you do not wish to be fed to Caraxes, get the fuck out of my way,” he sternly whispered, though the strong effects of nightshade kept you under, he didn’t want to test his luck any further to night. With much care, Daemon bundled you closer to him as he fasten you to his saddle, and tightened the blanket around his waist “sovetes,”

Come morning, the private council called was a rage,a missing prince and princess. Daemon, though finding comical responsibility, left a note. Jaehearys in his old age coughed orders of bounties, as Baelon read over the written note by Daemon, one written with haste and yet with perfected penmanship. “Forgive me father,” Baelon began to chuckle, putting away the parchment as he couldn’t process the hilarity of the situation. All he could think of was Alyssa, Daemon was her son, through and through, defiant, fiery. A dragon. Jaehaereys began to bark at Baelon over the fit he had been in, “come now, father,” he coughed to halt his laughter “what did you think would have happened?”

Jaehaerys near the end of his life might have passed right there, having felt the rage he did with Saerra he never understood why his kin must always go beyond his orders, always. “My son has become more a man than I am, there throw a feast,”

“He has a wife, he must return!”

“Unless you wish to outlive Viserys and I, this is one crime you must let go unpunished!” this time Baelon raised his voice, “for once, think about my boy and not about the Realm,”

Daemon had not planned where he would head, but Westeros wasn’t his home for now. You were, just as you always would be.

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