#SHE JUST WANTS TO MAKE SURE NO ONE ELSE GETS SEVERELY HURT OKAY
Note
Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫
Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!
Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader
Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer
Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.
author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!
🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:
The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do.
Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.
By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.
When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.
He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.
He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.
With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down.
While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.
😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:
Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.
Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!
Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.
She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.
As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.
Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.
🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:
Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.
Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.
When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.
Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.
When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.
🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:
Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.
Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.
He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.
“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.
He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.
Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.
He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”
♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:
Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.
But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.
“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.
When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.
He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.
You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.
He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.
As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.
When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.
“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.
🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:
Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.
When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.
Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?
He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.
When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.
You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.
You could see something change in his eyes.
He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.
😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:
Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms.
He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.
He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.
When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.
As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.
When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#Charlie Morningstar xreader#charlie x reader#vaggie x reader#lucifer x reader#sir pentious x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#helluva boss#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel oneshots#injured reader
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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)
🤍 also on ao3
Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.
His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.
Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–
It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.
He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."
No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".
No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...
No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.
He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?
The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.
He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.
Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.
---
He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.
Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.
He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.
The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.
"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.
After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.
"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."
He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–
Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.
After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.
"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.
"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.
---
He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.
It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.
And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”
It makes him want to scream.
Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.
“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.
“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.
“Nothing.”
She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“
“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”
“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.
That’s why Robin is here, right?
The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.
She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.
“Steve, they’re kids.”
“Yeah, well. So am I.”
He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.
He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.
But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.
---
And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.
But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.
“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.
“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”
“Hey!”
“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”
“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.
She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”
“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.
“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”
The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.
“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.
“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.
“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”
“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.
“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.
But it also hurts.
Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.
The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.
He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.
Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.
Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.
And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”
Steve nods. “Sometimes.”
Eddie hums. “That sucks.”
He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.
“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”
Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.
“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“
“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.
“You what?!”
“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”
“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”
And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.
But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.
Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.
And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.
“It’s okay, Dustin.”
“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”
“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.
“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”
“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”
He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.
“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“
“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”
And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Shut up.”
And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.
“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”
“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”
“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”
She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.
“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”
“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“
“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”
“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”
Right. The end of the world.
With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.
Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.
He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.
---
In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.
They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.
"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.
"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."
He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.
The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.
That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.
Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.
"Will you be okay, Steve?"
"Sure."
Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.
"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."
"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."
Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.
"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–
"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.
Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."
"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"
Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."
"Hey, that's my part."
"Say it when you come back, then."
This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.
"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."
And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.
He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.
Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.
It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.
God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...
He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.
But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.
"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."
And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.
They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.
Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.
It's over. It's done.
They did it. They really did it.
Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.
---
Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.
"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.
"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."
"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.
Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.
"Uh, what's going on?"
Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."
Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–
"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."
He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.
Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."
"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."
"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.
"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."
"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.
"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."
"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."
"Hey!"
"No, she has a point."
Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.
"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."
And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.
"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."
"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."
"He’s our brother," Dustin says.
"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.
"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.
“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.
“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.
---
In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.
Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.
And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.
#stranger things#steve & the party#steddie#steddie fic#but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way#this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit#dio words#actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know
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a bad feeling || arsenal x teen!reader ||
your bad feeling before a game ends up turning into your worst nightmare, but your teammates don't let you mope for too long.
"now that is a starter if i've ever seen one," katie said as she put her arm around your shoulders. you had been nervous all morning, nearly throwing up your breakfast before any of you had gotten on the bus. you were playing against manchester united, which meant going against tooney, but more importantly, mary. you had been with arsenal for a little while now, but you hadn't gotten to really play in any of the games against united yet.
"oh yeah, that backline won't know what hit 'em," alessia joined in. she wasn't sure what you needed at the moment, but katie's jokes had been making you smile so far. they wanted you to be relaxed and comfortable. there was a lot riding on this game, but the last thing any of them wanted was to put too much pressure on your shoulders. alessia wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she had done something to cause you to crumble. "you okay?"
"yeah, i'll be fine," you reassured her. a part of you felt like you'd be anything but fine. you weren't sure why, but you felt like something bad was going to happen. there had been something off all day, but you couldn't figure out what it was, so you tried your hardest to ignore it.
on the pitch, things were working fine until they weren't. manchester's girls were being a bit rough with you, which alessia and katie definitely noticed. at the half, katie had absolutely gone off ranting about them, but alessia had distracted you during katie's rant. you were a bit more winded than you normally would have been, but you didn't let the other team's aggression deter you.
"you go out there and score some goals," katie said as she pulled you in for a hug. you nodded against her before she kissed the top of your head and let you go. alessia pulled you into a similar embrace, something that she had noticed leah do during every game that you got to play in. leah's injury was hard on you, but everybody had picked up the slack to make sure that you were taken care of.
you started the second half in good spirits. you managed to get an easy break early on, slipping past their defense with ease. you kept your head forward like you'd always been taught to. the defense wasn't nearly as far behind as you had expected, and when you went to take your shot, one of them came in for a tackle. it wasn't clean, but she hadn't expected to connect as well as she had. your movement mixed with hers had you crumpling to the ground clutching your knee.
"(y/n)?" mary was the first person at your side. she pulled your head into her lap as she rubbed your back. ella was quick to join alessia and katie, as well as a few of your other arsenal teammates.
"i want leah," you whimpered. alessia frowned as she held onto your hand. they all crowded around you until the medics came with a stretcher to take you away. a few quick scans had confirmed your worst nightmare, an acl tear. it was worse than that, but all you had heard was that part. everything else out of the trainer's mouth had been garbled like your head was stuck in a fish bowl.
the rest of the day felt like a blur. you were whisked away to a hospital, several people from both teams and your national team came to visit you. it wasn't until you were back in london at your parents' place that you finally saw the one person you had been begging and pleading for all weekend, leah. she hadn't come alone, having heard how you had been moping since you left the trainer's room in manchester.
"hey," leah greeted you. she was speaking softly, just like everybody had since you got hurt. you were laying up in your bed, confined to your room to rest for a few days. technically, you could move around your house, but you didn't see the point in getting out of bed until you could play again.
"is it okay if i come in?" viv asked from your doorway. you perked up a little, not having seen her for what felt like forever. beth was with her, the two of them rarely separated off of the field. you nodded and scooted over so that there was more room for all of your teammates to come in.
"what are you guys doing here?" you asked. leah took the spot right next to you, the two of you having developed a special bond from the start. you had flocked to leah immediately, but back then, you had just been in pure awe of her. now, she was like your absolute best friend on the team and had stopped treating you like a baby all the time. that wasn't to say she wasn't fiercely overprotective of you like you were her sister.
"we wanted to check on you. i heard you've been having a hard time since the game," beth answered. you shrugged it off, despite knowing that she was telling the truth. you had been having an incredibly hard time dealing with your injury and the reality of what it meant. you were so young, and this was the kind of thing that ruined careers.
"more importantly, we wanted to remind you that this setback is temporary. you'll rest and rehab it, and take care of yourself so that it doesn't happen again, not for a long time at least. you'll bounce back from this because you're young and smart enough to take good care of yourself. i believe in you, we all do," leah said. "isn't that right?"
"yeah, i'll get better," you mumbled. leah nudged you, trying to get you to say it again louder. "i'll get better, and i'll stay better."
"that's right," leah said triumphantly.
"how long are you guys staying?" you asked. you were a bit distracted from your injury, and hopeful that your friends would stay for a bit. since joining arsenal, you hadn't really had much time for friends your own age. they didn't understand the strictness of your schedule and training regiment. it was just easier to hang out with your teammates, even if the age gap meant that you had a lot of differences in interests.
"well, i happen to have a clear night. in fact, i believe that mary and tooney are coming down for a little get-together. if you've got all your school work done, i am sure that your mum wouldn't mind if you stayed over," leah suggested.
"viv and i might even stop by for a bit before her bedtime," beth said. you had finished nearly your entire week's worth of work with an open schedule, which meant you were free to go to leah's for the night. that was something that your mother definitely knew, and had most likely even arranged to get you to come out of your room.
"do you mean it?" you asked leah. she nodded and helped you pack a bag to spend the night. it had been a long time since you'd gotten to attend a team sleepover, and even though you couldn't play and train with everybody else, you were glad that they still thought to include you. you hadn't admitted it to anybody else, but your big fear was that the team would shut you out because you were injured.
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don't tell Leah
barca femeni x platonic reader :)
based on a request that i changed a little
r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira
Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.
This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.
The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.
So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.
Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.
"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.
Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.
You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.
What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?
Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.
"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.
"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.
"What happened?"
"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.
As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.
Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."
Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.
"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.
"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.
"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.
Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.
"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"
You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.
"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.
"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.
It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.
Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.
"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.
"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.
You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.
"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.
"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."
Both girls nodded in understanding.
"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.
"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."
Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"
"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.
"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.
"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.
"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.
"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.
"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."
"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.
"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.
"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.
"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.
Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.
"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.
You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.
-----
let me know if you want to see more of young reader and the team :)
#woso#woso imagine#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#alexia putellas#barca femeni#ingrid engen#lucy bronze#keira walsh
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lost on you l a safe gaven drabble
series masterlist
summary: You’re missing Joel and a certain mare seems to be picking up on your sadness—or at least that’s what you think is happening when there’s a sudden change in her behavior. Why else would Stella be acting so strange around you?
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. angst, horses, and a lil more angst. reader’s pregnancy is lightly being implied, but it has not been explicitly stated yet, only hinted at. no Joel, he is only mentioned in this one. Dina makes an appearance, i threw in some comedic moments to try and balance out the angst. ends with a horsey hug.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: so this is meant to be as a bit of a filler fic before chapter 9 is posted and shit hits the fan. i knew i wanted to do a short drabble that touches on how reader is doing after the confrontation she had with Joel. i also asked people to send in short prompts for the series to do some no pressure writing exercises, and this particular prompt that was sent in was just incredible and i decided to incorporate it. It makes me nervous to post a fic with no Joel in it, but my heart wanted to write it so fuck it, I just wrote it. chapter 9 is almost done and will be posted soon. @eyesneverbeensoblue i hope it’s okay to tag you in this and tell you thank you so much for the idea!
Lately, I’m getting lost on you
I tore your world apart like it was nothing new
every day I’m a slave to the heartache…
Summer slowly, but surely comes to an end.
The days are long, but the nights without Joel?
They’re even longer, at least, that’s how it feels.
You miss him. Oh God, how you fucking miss Joel Miller.
He’s all you can ever think about.
Every second of every minute of every single day.
You miss Joel so much that it physically hurts. Every part of you just aches for him. Aches.
Your insides feel like they’re on fire, and you can't put it out.
The heartache is agonizing, almost unbearable—it’s unlike anything you have ever felt before.
In front of others, you hold it together pretty well. But when you’re alone, behind closed doors?
That’s when you fall apart. Crumble into pieces.
Losing Joel is something you will never heal from. Never.
Traces of himself he’d left behind—would you ever be able to wipe yourself clean of them? Of him? Or would you have to spend the rest of your damn life trying to get over the man who fucking adored the hell out of you and who loved you so unconditionally?
“He misses you, you know,” Ellie says, quietly. She stands beside you and diligently runs a hard, bristled hand brush along Jasper’s side to clear his golden coat of dirt and debris. The palomino is just one of several horses that needed tending to after that morning’s patrol shift. Realizing you’re too busy jotting down notes in Jasper’s handwritten file you keep for him—you kept a file for every single horse in the commune—Ellie clears her throat and then speaks again, louder this time. “He misses you.”
You wince and stop mid scribble.
“Ellie—” you trail off, your throat going dry.
Even though you’d asked her about a hundred and one times not to talk about Joel, Ellie was hellbent on bringing him up to you as often as she could. At first, it seemed innocent enough. She stuck to just letting you know how his recovery was going.
“His shoulder’s healing really well.”
“Donna came over to help with physical therapy.”
“He’ll be back on patrol in a couple of weeks.”
So you’d given her a pass. Besides, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to know how he was healing after his injury.
However, Ellie then began to wander into more sensitive and dangerous territory.
“He asked me about you.”
“He was drinking again last night.”
“He looks so fucking miserable.”
You know why she’s doing it.
It’s not to make you feel guilty for hurting Joel.
Hell, she knows that you’re hurting just as badly. She loves you and she loves Joel—the two people Ellie cares about more than anything are suffering without each other.
You hate that she’s essentially been pulled right into the middle of this mess that you’ve created.
Ellie is collateral damage. This is all hurting her too.
“He misses you a lot,” she adds after a minute.
You exhale sharply. Her words feel like a punch to the gut and they knock the wind out of your lungs.
Finally, you look up from your clipboard, turning to her. “Ellie,” you say her name warningly. “Stop it. We’re not going to do this today. Okay?”
“I’m just saying,” she mumbles, placing a hand on Jasper’s side. “If someone was missing me, I think I would want to fucking know.”
You feel the lump steadily rising in your throat.
“Ellie, please don’t—”
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!”
The sound of Dina’s voice fills the horse stables.
The teenager whips herself into Jasper’s stall, skidding to a stop in front of you, sweaty and breathless, as if she had just run across the settlement.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She apologizes, setting her bag down on the ground. Pulling a scrunchie from the back pocket of her jeans, she throws her long, black hair into a messy bun as she explains herself. “Talia asked me to help her out in the library this morning and I totally lost track of time. And then on the way over here, I bumped into Mrs. Miller as she was walking home from the market and I mean, I could not just let a pregnant lady carry all those heavy bags across town—”
“Dina, breathe, sweetheart.” You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. As long as you show up, that’s all I care about. Especially since Tommy and Maria moved Logan to patrol duty. That’s another stable hand gone, so I need all the help I can possibly get around here.” Slipping your clipboard under your arm, you glance from Dina to Ellie. The emotions from what had happened just seconds before your niece had run in are bubbling, threatening to boil over. “Listen, I have to go do a routine examination on Stella. Finish up with grooming Jasper. I have a couple of horses that are due for baths—Luna and Bandit. Then it’s feeding time. Got it?”
Dina smiles brightly. “We’ll take care of it, won’t we, El?”
Sensing your urgency to leave, Ellie gives a subtle, small nod of her head. “Yeah. We will.”
“Good. I’ll come check on you girls when I’m done with Stella.” Spinning around on the muck caked heel of your boot, you hastily leave Jasper’s stall and nearly fly all the way down the stables and into Stella’s.
You rush inside, closing the top and bottom half of the Dutch door before sagging back against the wood. You toss your clipboard aside on the floor of the stall and lift both your hands, covering your face as you choke back sobs of pure agony.
He misses you.
As you will yourself to keep yourself from falling apart, you feel a warm muzzle dig lightly into your lower stomach. Dropping your hands from your face, you glance up only to see Stella peering at you with clear and unmistakable curiosity in her big brown eyes.
“Hi there, my gorgeous girl,” you murmur softly to the pregnant mare. A tear slips out from the corner of your eye and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.
Stella lowers her head and sniffs at your stomach, right where she had dug into you. Her ears prick forward and she nuzzles the same spot again.
You shoot her a strange look. You’ve never seen her exhibit this type of behavior before.
“Stella, what are you doing?” you ask, almost as if you expect her to speak and give you an answer. “Why are you being so weird?”
Stella sniffs you again, then nips at the hem of your tank top.
“Hey! Cut that out.” You can’t help but let out a watery giggle as you carefully pull the fabric out of her mouth. Realizing the strange behavior must have something to do with the mare sensing the intensity of your negative emotions, you gently place both of your hands on either side of her muzzle. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you slowly exhale it through your mouth before touching your forehead to hers. “I’ll be okay, girl. I’ll be okay. There’s no other choice—I have to be okay.”
An hour later, you’d finished the examination.
Stella had continued to act oddly around you, her behavior becoming more and more peculiar as time went on. You were bonded to her of course—you were bonded to just about every single horse in the commune—and so it didn’t really surprise you that the mare was so in tune with your emotions and could feel that something was off. She was extremely attentive to you as you worked, her eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.
Stella also continued to sniff you, nuzzling you in the stomach any chance she had. For as bizarre as it was, it brought you an off sense of comfort and it made you feel less alone.
“Hey auntie.” Dina opens the stall door, poking her head inside. “Can we come in?”
“Of course.”
She pushes the door open further and walks into the stall with Ellie on her heels. Both of them are almost completely soaked from head to toe.
Your eyes widen. “Um, girls, I’m pretty sure I told you to bathe the horses—not yourselves.”
Ellie lets out a small scoff. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Bandit wasn’t having it,” Dina chuckles. “But he’s all clean, and so is Luna. We just came in to tell you we’re going to go dry off and change our clothes. We’ll be back for feeding time.” She glances at the mare. “How’s our sweet mama-to-be doing?”
“Good. She’s as healthy as a horse.”
The teenagers roll their eyes, but laugh.
“You’re so lame, auntie.”
“Just a little equine veterinarian humor. My dad used that one on me all the time.” You grin at the memory. “Stella’s doing really well. In about seven or eight months, we’ll have our new baby.”
“Well then, I think someone deserves a little treat since she’s doing so good.” Dina reaches into the bag she has slung over her shoulder and pulls out a crisp, red apple. She walks over, holding the fruit out in the palm of her hand for the horse. “Here you go, girl.”
Stella gives the apple a sniff, then takes it from her.
Usually, she wolfs it down in just a few chomps—but what she does next surprises all three of you. Apple still between her teeth, the mare turns and pushes her muzzle into your stomach.
“Oh shit,” Ellie cackles. “No fucking way!”
“Oh my god,” Dina grins. “Is she—she’s giving it to you?”
Shocked, you lift a hand and delicately take the apple from between her teeth. “Stella, you silly girl! What are you doing?” You hold it out for her. “This apple is for you, sweetheart. Here, take it.”
She tosses her head in the air.
Dina snorts into her hand. “She just told you no!”
“She wants you to have it.” Ellie shoots you a teasing look. “Come on, princess. Take a bite.”
You look at her, then down at the apple, which is covered completely in Stella’s slobber.
“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll pass,” you mutter.
“Auntie, don’t be rude,” Dina jokes. “It’s bad manners to refuse her offer.”
Rolling your eyes at your niece, you turn back to Stella and tell her, “I’ll eat it later. When it’s washed.”
“We’re starting to smell like wet horse,” Ellie makes a gagging noise as she takes a whiff of her shirt.
Dina lifts the collar of her blouse to her nose. “Oh, gross. We are starting to smell like wet horse.” She reaches out with her opposite hand, grabbing one of Ellie’s. She laces their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go change.”
You can’t help but notice the way Dina looks at Ellie—with the sweetest, most adoring little smile.
You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head slightly.
Ellie’s eyes meet yours and she blushes deeply.
If you ever had a chance to give Ellie Williams shit, this was it—but instead, you just give her a subtle wink from where you stand. Her face instantly goes from red to maroon.
“Be sure to be back in an hour for feeding time!” you call as Dina pulls her out of the stall. “I’m not feeding all these horses alone!”
“We will!”
Once the girls are gone, you turn to Stella and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up today, pretty girl.”
She rests her head on your shoulder.
You feel more tears coming and hug her harder.
lyrics: Lost on You - Lewis Capaldi
#fic: a safe haven#fic: ash#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller series#queued to post
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She got my heartbeat. Skipping down 16th Avenue - Hazel Callahan
Pairing: College student! Hazel Callahan x College student! Reader
Contains: fluff, hazel being woozy from meds, mentions of beating PJ up (i love her this was for the plot), somewhat idiots very in love, kissing!!!
Summary: Based on this request.
Word Count: 2.3K
A/N: yay i managed to post this week! Onto the next request. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged onto future Hazel oneshots :) !
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“What the fuck happened?!” You exclaimed, barging into Hazel’s hospital room.
Sylvie and the rest of the girls were there by her bedside, earnestly looking after the injured girl. They give you a look of pity and guilt. Everyone knew how protective you could get of your best friend.
“Pretty girl, hello!” Hazel slurred, jolting upwards into a sitting position. Her heart rate monitor was spiking. She had taken several medications for her injuries and it made her loopy and out of her mind most of the time.
Sylvie gently pushes her back down and interrupts Hazel. “Hey, she kind of got into a fight.”
“Kind of?” You interject, your arms flailing in panic. Hazel looked like shit. Her lip was busted and her eye swollen. To add to this, her face had been colored purple and blue from several bruises around her face. The sight of her made your heartache and made you want to coddle the brunette.
“We’re sorry this happened,” Isabel started, making her way to you. “It’s just that PJ and Josie tricked all of us into the fight club and Hazel had to fight the big guy. It’s a super long story.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill PJ.” You muttered, feeling your eye twitch and your blood boil. You had never liked her, she had always left a bad taste in your mouth. It baffled you why Hazel always spoke so highly of her. Josie, you could get it. She was nice albeit awkward but she was never mean spirited like PJ was.
“Noo not good, pretty. Bad.” Hazel interrupted. Even in her disheveled state she was defending PJ. It stung and you felt a sense of dejection. But you pushed it aside as you realize that you needed to step up and take care of her because no one else will. Hazel’s mom was vacationing god knows where and her dad was out of the picture a long time ago. She only had you.
Making your way to her, the girls parted and offered you a seat beside her hospital bed. You had noticed that her heart rate monitor was incredibly high but figured that it was the leftover adrenaline from what ensued.
“Hey Haze,” You whisper, voice cracking. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”
“Pretty girl going to take care ‘me?” She asked, she was slurring her words and it came out kind of whiny.
A shy smile spread across your face. She had never called you pretty girl before. Sure, she was never shy of compliments but never outright like this. It made you wonder if there were truth to her words.
You nodded, taking her hand. “Of course, Haze.”
“Dude your heart rate keeps going up, I’m gonna call a nurse.” Sylvie observed, taking Isabel with her to get someone. She was genuinely concerned for Hazel, her heart rate kept going up especially when you came around which she found weird.
“‘M face hurts.” Hazel said. Her breathing was shallow and she could barely open one eye.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Haze.” You replied, rubbing her hand with your thumb. This was something you often did whenever you were nervous or apologetic. In return, Hazel would squeeze yours back three times as if to say it’s okay. At least that’s what you thought.
The girls came back to the room with the nurse they found to assist Hazel. She was tall and looked kind. Almost reminiscent of Hazel’s mom without the flashy jewelry and short hair.
“You say her heart rate was spiking?” The nurse asked, closely looking at her heart rate monitor.
Sylvie nodded and pointed to you. “Yeah it started going up when she arrived.”
The nurse looked at you with curiosity in her eyes and then she spotted your interlocked hands. The tips of her mouth perked up and her gaze glinted with mischief.
“Huh,” She started, looking at you with a teasing gaze. “Must be leftover adrenaline from the fight.”
“That’s what I thought so too.” You replied, feeling confident in your answer. It didn’t cross your mind to think that she might be hinting at something else. Why would she? She was a stranger and friends held hands all the time. Though, your heart rate definitely didn’t feel fast whenever you're holding other people’s hands, only with Hazel.
“Sure.” The nurse said, turning her back from you. Her tone was sarcastic and it baffled you. But you brushed it aside, choosing to put your attention to Hazel instead.
After some more checking, the nurse ruled out anything dangerous but told Hazel to be careful. And as her primary caretaker, you took it upon yourself to talk to the Nurse too. Just to find out what to do and when you could take your bestfriend home. The lady was nice enough to supply all the correct answers but not without sly remarks about “taking good care of your girlfriend”. Whatever that meant. Finally, she told you that Hazel would be able to go home tomorrow which gave you relief. It was gonna be hard work but you weren’t complaining as it was Hazel you were pouring your care onto.
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Back at your dorm, Hazel occupies her side of the room and is slumped against her bed. Despite her wounds healing, she hadn’t been quite active; not like herself at all. You’d blamed the meds that the doctor prescribed, as well as the bruise the altercation might have left on her ego.
“You look really pretty today.” Hazel said, complimenting you. This was her 10th compliment of the day and she didn’t show any signs of stopping. Again, something you blamed the meds on. She was all loopy and hallucinating. You didn’t look pretty at all today, body adorned with just a regular hoodie and sweatpants.
“Mhm, sure Haze. Thank you.” You reply, sitting on her bed and taking out the supplies needed to tend to her wounds.
Facing her, you inch closer towards your best friend and take a good look before reaching for her bruise medication. Her face still looked splotchy because of the bruises, but certainly better.
“Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you a lot, pretty.” she mumbled, her one non swollen eye looking at you with affection. Hazel might have been on medication but she meant every compliment that came out of her mouth. In a way she was glad for it because it enables her to voice out her thoughts about you.
“It’s okay. I would take care of you any day.” You reassure her, giving her a smile. It still breaks your heart whenever you recall what happened to her. She deserved so much better, especially after you learned about the argument her and PJ had prior to the fight. You wanted to beat the shit out of PJ so bad but restrained yourself because you knew that Hazel wouldn’t forgive you. But still, you can’t help but glare and stick your middle finger up at her whenever you pass each other by at the halls.
“I’m gonna beat PJ up as payback for what happened to you, I swear to god.” You added, your voice was shaky.
“Don’t.” Hazel replied, taking your hand in hers. She did it again, squeezed your hand thrice. It made your heart flutter. But at the same time, it saddened you how much she defended PJ.
“Don’t defend her, Haze. She’s the reason you got hurt.” You reply defensively, intertwining your hand with hers. If you had a heart rate monitor at home, Hazel’s would have skyrocketed right now. She was praying that her pulse didn’t give anything away but you seemed to be distracted by the hate you had for her friend.
“I’m not,” She started, staring her one eye at you. “It’s just that you’re too good for that, beautiful.”
“Stop that.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact. You decide to distract yourself by opening up the treatment for her bruises and applying it onto her.
“Stop what?”
“You know, complimenting me. You’re too loopy from the meds.”
Hazel shakes her head, interrupting you from treating her wound. “That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. I mean, you have been doing the same since the hospital.” You retort, trying to evade Hazel’s attempt at knocking at your heart. It wasn’t working, of course. Her admittance of her affection for you made you feel loopy.
“It might have started at the hospital but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. I do think you’re beautiful and kind and gorgeous and the best person in the world.” She rambled on, listing positive things about you.
The brunette’s confession shocked you, leading you to push down a bit harder on her bruise as you applied her medication.
“Ow!” Hazel exclaimed, it felt like her bruise would resurface with the pressure you put on her face.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You reply, frantically caressing her face as to apologize for accidentally hurting her.
“It’s okay.” Hazel mumbled, bringing a hand up to her cheek. “Kinda hurts though.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
Hazel’s eyebrows perk up at your offer. The cogs in her mind were working overtime and she was going to take a leap at what she was going to do but it would all be worth it.
“I know how you can make it up to me.” She led on, a small smirk displayed on her face. She couldn’t quite smile as there were cuts on her lips that disabled her from doing so.
“How?” You cocked your head to the side, curious to what her demands were. You felt really bad. To be fair, Hazel surprised you and she couldn’t just do that so suddenly, not when your hands were on her face. She knew how reactive you could get.
“A kiss.” She beamed, proud of herself.
You stare at her, bewildered.
“We need to get you off those meds.” You mumble, putting away her ointment. This was you trying to hide your face that was sporting a blush. You could feel the warmth spread past your countenance and through your body.
“I’m serious!” Hazel flailed, sitting upright. She had never been more serious in her entire life. She could come off as goofy most of the time but never with you. She had always tried her best whenever she was with you. You deserve the best things in life and she knew this.
“Alright okay.” You caved, positioning yourself closer to her so that it was easier for your lips to attach themselves to her wounds.
“Really?” The blue eyed girl questioned. She didn’t think she’d get this far.
You hummed in response and made your way forwards, pressing a chaste kiss on the apple of her cheek right where the bruise was starting to shift colors. And then you planted another towards her swollen eye, careful not to put any pressure. Then, your lips found its ways towards hers. You hover over her lips, not quite sure if you should continue.
“Please kiss me.” Hazel whispered, feeling a bit pathetic at her plea. But then again, this was all she ever wanted. To be near you and feel you. And if she were honest, she’d get beat up a thousand times again if it meant being under your tender care.
At this, you press your lips onto hers. You were careful not to press too hard as you minded the cuts she obtained from the fight. But still, you kissed her with much love and yearning. With all of the pent up feelings you had for your best friend. She tasted like skittles. The only thing she’d enthusiastically eat during these past few days that she’d rested.
“Do you feel better now?” You ask, parting your lips from hers. The beating of your heart was loud and you could physically feel your heart thump against your chest.
“Well,” She said, as if in deep thought. “I think you need to kiss me more, to be honest. I don’t feel too well.”
You laugh at her attempt to convince you to kiss her again. It worked, though. Obviously. But it was just so…Hazel. So authentically her.
“Oh no!” You feigned worry, playing along. “We wouldn’t want that.”
“No. Not at all.” Hazel shook her head. She took her spare hand and wrapped it around your waist.
Leaning in once again, you take a moment to examine her features. The contrast of her sharp features against the violent splotches of purple and green and beige. She looked beautiful. Right then and there you swore that you’d protect her. Never let anything like this happen again. Protect her against the stupid football guy, PJ, anyone.
“What are you thinking of?” Hazel asked, breaking you out of your trance.
“How good you look. And how I’m totally gonna kick that football guy and PJ’s ass.” You reply, earning a groan from your best friend.
“More kissing, less kicking ass, please.” She pleaded.
“Alright okay.” You laughed, connecting your lips to hers again. You weren’t sure where this left the both of you. If it meant that you two were together now. You made a mental note to bring this up to her once you two finish making out.
Hazel on the other hand, was elated. She had to personally thank her nurse and doctor for prescribing her meds that made her more loopy as hell but confident. She couldn’t believe it! She was kissing her best friend and long time crush all because of some stupid meds that got rid of her shyness. Hazel was going to enjoy this, she thought. And she also thought about how she was going to scream everything out into the world. How she finally got her girl and how lucky she felt.
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tags: @academiareid <3
#bottoms 2023#hazel bottoms#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan#bottoms imagine#bottoms movie#hazel callahan fanfiction#hazel callahan imagine#fanfic#lgbtq#jhmasterlist#ruby cruz
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Hi El!! I hope I can call you that haha
could you do an angst-smut where Verstappen!reader and Lando used to be friends but they weren’t anymore (you can decide why). But then he tells her he likes her. She acts and tries to make herself think that she doesn’t want him back, but it gets too much in the end and they end up doing it. Then she realizes she made a mistake and they both go through stuff and she tells him it isn’t right to be together. But a month later, Lando gets action anywhere he can get it and reader is jealous. They hook up again and he tries hard to win reader over.
I don’t know if it’s too long… but I would appreciate if you could do it!!!!! If it’s too long, maybe a series?
𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓
➪Hey there :) It’s totally fine to call me El!
➪I really like this prompt<3
➪This will most likely be a 2-part fic just because of the length and more plot that I incorporated into it, but here’s the first part.
Things to note:
❥You are the younger sister of Max and Victoria
❥You’re a law student
Pairing: Lando Norris x Verstappen!Fem!Reader (x Carlos but not rly)
Warnings: (18+ content) smut, really smutty, oral (both receiving), praise k!nk, swearing, toxicity, kind of angsty, unprotected
Word count: 6.5k+
Lando Norris. The famous McLaren driver. Being the sister of Max, you’d always had to endure being around the guy whenever you decided to visit Max.
You got used to seeing him at your brother's place, which blossomed into a friendship that mainly consisted of endless teasing. Lando would make fun of your single lifestyle, whilst you threw harmless jokes around about his girlfriend.
The two of you had a great relationship, and you’d even started to develop slight feelings for Lando until he started being distant. He never texted and only ever acknowledged your existence whenever he came over to your brother’s place. Admittedly, you were hurt. Your heart clenched every time you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d done something to set him off. There was nothing left for you to do but take a hint. Even if that meant you’d carve out your heart even more than it had already been by him. You didn’t bother telling Max. He always seemed to be in an elevated mood whenever Lando came around. The two were best friends, and even if he wasn’t your friend anymore— you couldn’t risk what he had with your brother.
Around the same time Lando had announced the split from his girlfriend, you’d gotten cosy with Carlos. He was there for you. Always. You could call him crying at ungodly hours and he’d do whatever he could to help you out. He was there for you when Lando wasn’t. Carlos asked you out on several dates before finally asking you to make it official. The two of you took things slow and kept your relationship a secret from the public. You were pretty much set though. You’d even gotten your brother’s approval.
Your boyfriend would often come to visit you whenever he had the chance. Max didn’t seem to mind, but someone else did.
One fateful evening, Max had invited Lando over for dinner. You, on the other hand, had invited Carlos. He’d arrived a few minutes early and helped you with the cooking. When the doorbell rang, you asked Max to open it whilst you peeled some potatoes.
“Hey mate, my sister and Carlos are just finishing off some potatoes, you can wait in the living room. Lando raised an eyebrow. He had no idea why Carlos would be there.
“Okay, sure.” He took a seat in the living room, trying to come up with different scenarios as to why Carlos was there too. Surely, he thought, it had nothing to do with you? You weren’t dating anyone. He’d know if you were, right?
It didn’t take long before he got his answer. It wasn’t tasteful in the slightest. Max had called him in for dinner and upon entering the dining room, he saw Carlos’ arms wrapped around your waist. The sight confirmed that all his scenarios were just that; scenarios. Pointless delusions that he’d hoped were real. It made his stomach churn with melancholy. His heart felt tight in his chest.
“Oh yeah, Lando, they’re dating but it’s sort of secret. You can keep it that way, right?” Your brother asked him. He couldn’t say no. He wasn’t in any position to.
“Oh… yeah I won’t say anything.” He felt awkward being there. He felt the need to come between you and Carlos, but he knew you’d never even look at him again if he did. You were in an untouchable position. Carlos was his friend and so was Max. They’d both resent him if he ever did anything to hurt you.
After eating, your brother took him to the living room to watch a movie. You sat in your room with Carlos beside you in your bed. He’d fallen asleep, as he’d been busy all day. Recently, the media was all over anything they could get from him. His schedule was filled to the brim. It was a miracle he was able to come over.
Just as you were about to cuddle into him, your phone buzzed. For the first time in a year— there was a new message from Lando.
‘Can we talk? Max fell asleep on the couch.’ You didn’t want to reply, but he could see that you’d seen his message.
‘What do you want, Lando? We don’t have anything to talk about.’ You’d gotten over him with time, but a part of you wanted the closure you never got. The fact that he’d never even given you that, only made you want it that much more.
‘Please? Meet me in the kitchen.’ You didn’t bother replying and got out of bed. You took one last look at your sleeping boyfriend before you left for the kitchen. It almost felt as if you were betraying Carlos.
“Hey… thanks for meeting me here,” said Lando with a fake smile. Everything about him was fake to you. There was nothing authentic about him.
“Just hurry up and tell me what you want.” The truth was, you just wanted him to give you closure as fast as possible, so you could properly get over him. Once and for all. You knew you’d still hold him in a special place, but it wouldn’t be as evident.
“I miss you…” You kind of just stood there in shock for a moment.
“I don’t know what you mean by that, Lando. We haven’t talked in more than a year. You’re the one who refused to speak to me, and now you suddenly want to? Why are you being so bipolar with me?” You didn’t expect to go off like that as soon as you realized what he said, but you just couldn’t help it. You wanted him to fight back, you wanted him to tell you why he did it. You deserved to know, you deserved the peace.
“I don’t know where to start—“
“Maybe from the top? I want to know why you left me like that. You know I didn’t have anyone else but you. Why would you do something like that to me? Just tell me everything.” You saw him moving closer to you, which subconsciously made you back away from him.
“I know it was an asshole move. Especially with my friendship with Max, but there’s a perfectly good explanation for this.” He was stalling. You figured he wanted to get his story right before telling you.
“So then tell me. Explain.”
“I’m in love with you. Madly. I have been for the past year. It’s the reason why I broke up with Luisa. I tried, really I tried to repress my feelings in the beginning. But seeing you laugh and make jokes and smile the way you do… I knew I had to cut you out to get over you. I didn’t want to cheat on Luisa, and I didn’t know if you even felt the same. Look, I feel horrible about it. I should’ve said something, I know, but I was a coward,” he admitted. He took you for a rollercoaster of emotions. You didn’t know what to say. You were speechless. It didn’t seem real.
“All this time… I blamed myself. I spent nights crying myself to sleep. You’re so fucking pathetic, Lando. How could you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve told you how I felt. I actually felt the same way, you stupid piece of—” You were cut off with a kiss and the back of your neck being pushed forward. You slowly melted into it, intertwining your fingers with his hair. When you finally pulled away from him, you saw a small tug on his lip.
“I can’t deal with this right now. Please leave me alone,” you whispered and left him in a daze. Luckily, Carlos was still asleep when you got back. You got in bed with him and curled up close to him. You were rattled with guilt. The lips your lips last touched weren’t his, but Lando’s. How could you ever kiss your sweet boyfriend again?
You woke up the next morning, feeling the aftermath of your kiss with Lando. Your stomach clenched with guilt. Carlos was already awake. You could tell by the empty space beside you, and the noises coming from the kitchen.
Going in, you saw everyone helping out with breakfast. Including Lando. He tried to make eye contact with you, but you were able to turn away the second he did. There was no way you could ever look him in the eyes again.
“Morning, want some French toast? We made plenty so far, but Carlos is still going at it,” said your brother and handed you a plate of toast. You had no other choice, but to sit next to Lando. The kitchen island only offered three stools by it, and your brother had taken up one already.
When you sat down, you could feel the uncomfortable air growing much heavier. You swallowed thickly and tried to ease your heartbeat. The toast was wonderful. You already knew Carlos made a mean French toast, but biting into the bread, your tongue was met with all of the wonderful cinnamon and sugary flavours. It tasted different from his usual toast though. He usually included other ingredients and he didn’t add cinnamon either.
“Lando, your recipe is really great. I should’ve asked you to cook earlier,” your brother clapped his back. You felt sick. It was delicious, but the fact that you almost put it above Carlos’ was insanity. Were you going insane? Did it stem from the kiss?
“How do you like it?” Lando asked, with somewhat of a devious smirk.
“Excuse me?” You nearly choked on your food.
“The toast, is it any good?” You hated yourself and your mind. How could you think he meant something else? With the context too. Being absolutely embarrassed, you just gave him a thumbs up.
You finished your plate and placed it to be washed. Carlos had finished cooking and as you were about to leave the kitchen, you were pulled into a bear hug by him. However, when he tried to kiss you— you pulled away. This, of course, left the Spaniard more than just puzzled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ummm… morning breath. I’d rather brush my teeth first,” you rushed and left. It felt gutting to leave him there, but you had no other choice, really. Besides, you were running late for your court case. Your internship had just started, and you were in your first year of law school, dubbed the hardest year of them all.
“Do you need a lift?” You saw Lando in the doorway to your room. It was easy to tell just how desperate he was to talk to you. About anything at all.
“No thanks, I’ll have Carlos drive me.” You didn’t even bother looking at him, as you gathered your things.
“Carlos didn’t get here by car, you know?” You forgot he always biked whenever he came to see you. Lando looked you up and down with yet another smirk smeared across his smug face.
“I’ll call a cab. You don’t need to drive me,” you scoffed and pushed him out of the doorway.
“Hey Max, see you later!” You yelled out to your brother, who was in the living room. When Carlos heard you, he rushed to go see you off. You managed to get it together and kiss him goodbye.
Your own apartment was closer to the firm where you interned, but it wasn’t anything fancy. It was a two-room apartment with little to no sunlight coming through the windows. That’s why you mainly lived with Max. Carlos offered to have you come stay with him instead of your apartment, but you refused. For the same reason, you didn’t live with Max full-time. You didn’t want to leech off of them. It would feel wrong to you.
When you got out, you tried calling a cab, but the company made it clear that it would take a while before it could get to you. You had to admit defeat, but when you turned around; Lando was already in his car, waiting for you to join him. With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you got in.
“You’re so full of shit, Lando.” You fastened your seatbelt and put your bag between your legs. He didn’t reply. He merely chuckled and pulled out of Max’s driveway. You hated the effect he had on you. Just those small chuckles and smirks sent you orbiting.
“Why can’t we be together? Tell me.” Lando sounded absolutely deluded. As if he was expecting you to come running into his arms whenever you needed to. It was as if he didn’t even know who Carlos was.
“Well, for starters, I’m dating Carlos.”
“Break up with him. It’s easy,” he replied with a happy-go-lucky and innocent voice. It drove you up and down the walls.
“Apparently it isn’t easy, since you couldn’t break up with Luisa.” It was a low blow but he deserved it.
“Well—”
“Besides, you can’t expect me to suddenly like you back after you ruined me. Do you even know what you sound like?” You were getting heated, more aggressive, and you didn’t know what your limit was.
“I apologized, okay? I still do. I can tell you so many times that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you I love—”
“Shut up, Lando! Shut up…” The pressure you felt from him was too much for you. The harsh reality of your feelings was starting to hit you. Carlos was special to you, sure he was, but Lando was something else entirely. Even though he’d been so horrible to you, a part of you was desperate to come back for a second kiss. One that didn’t have to be so rushed like the one in the kitchen.
“Why can’t you just accept that I’m in love with someone else?” Your heart was beating faster than it had ever done before.
“You can’t be serious. You and Carlos? You might be fooling yourself, but you can’t fool me. You’re not in love with him. Open your eyes, Verstappen. Can’t you see? You’re just trying to push me away.” You hated hearing the truth from none other than Lando. But was it really the truth? Did you not love Carlos? Thinking about it, it was hard to imagine getting married to the guy. As much as it pained you to acknowledge it, maybe Lando was right.
“Either way, we can’t. You know the media. You know what they’d do to me,” you sighed.
“So you do feel the same way?” The burning question. Did you? Your heart was telling you one thing, but your brain was telling you another. Being a student of law, you were more on the rational side. You were used to listening to your brain.
“No. I didn’t mean it like that, Lando. What I’m saying is that even if I did, the media would scrutinize me for all I’m worth.” You saw Lando’s face turn bitter, but luckily you didn’t have to deal with that at the moment; because he pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse.
“The media doesn’t even know you and Carlos are together.” You stayed silent. You had nothing to say.
“Kiss me.” You heard as you got out of the car. Lando had a desperate look on his face. Your brain was fighting your heart. It only escalated when he also got out and made his way to your side.
“Lando, you know I can’t…”
“Please?” He grabbed both your arms, caressing them gently.
“I’ll see you later, Lando…” You pulled away from him and got into the courthouse to meet your coworkers. But during the entire hearing, you could only think of the Brit. The way he spoke as softly as he possibly could with you, to the way he’d look at you as if he worshipped you.
When you got home, you realized Kelly and Penelope had come home from their trip to Paris. You didn't mind Kelly at all, she was supportive of Max and kept him happy. She would occasionally bring you with her to go shopping and whatnot. Penelope was a sweet angel. You loved babysitting her whenever you had the time to do so.
“There's the law student! How've you been, darling?” Kelly came up to you and hugged you tightly. Penelope followed suit but hugged your leg instead.
“Umm, we’ll you know, I’ve been okay. Carlos and I are actually dating now,” you admitted. Kelly’s eyes flew open in excitement,
“Really?! I would’ve thought Lando stepped up! That’s so great, I’m happy for the two of you.” Even when Lando wasn’t present, he was still an active subject in your life. You couldn’t hear the end of it.
Dinner was great. Kelly decided to cook some pasta and gave you a hearty portion. Even she, who’d been away for some time, could tell that you were going through something. You didn’t have the heart to dump everything onto her, as she looked so happy with your brother. To forget about your troubles, you decided to investigate your ongoing case. Your room was more or less an organized mess. There were pages upon pages of testimonies scattered on your bed. It wasn’t until you got a phone call, that you slipped out of your trance.
“Hi corazón, you know how the Monaco Grand Prix is starting tomorrow, right? I just wanted to ask if you want to come with me…” You’d been busy trying to run away from your problems, but this truly made you spiral. Not only did that mean you’d go public with Carlos, it meant that the media would sink its hooks into you even more than it already did.
“Carlos… are you sure you want to go public? I mean… we started dating only a few months ago. What if the media makes up some outrageous story about me?” Was it a selfish question? Maybe, but it was definitely something to take into consideration. Tabloids and blogs had every reason to make it a big deal. It’s what they thrived off of.
“I’ll make sure they don’t. I just feel like we’re ready for this, no?” You could hear the thumping of your own heart. His voice was soft and sweet. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to give in. You hated the effect Lando had on you. You hated that he came in the way of a perfectly happy relationship.
“I… I don’t know, Carlos. Can I sleep on it and tell you tomorrow?” Procrastination had always been a bad habit of yours. It meant that you were able to hold off your problems. Even for just a few minutes longer.
“Okay, mi amor, I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay?”
“I will. Good night, babe.” After hanging up, you came to the disturbing realization that he’d never told you he loved you. Neither had you. Lando had. He told you multiple times earlier.
That night you didn’t get the sleep you were hoping to get. Your thoughts and scenarios kept you up for longer than you would’ve liked.
The sun had risen. You’d caved and told Carlos you’d go with him. He and Charles picked you up from your less-than-par apartment and headed straight to the track. You felt a pit in your stomach grow larger and larger the closer you got. The paparazzi made things worse. As soon as your boyfriend opened the door for you, they started asking questions. They were everywhere. The flashing lights blinded you and made your head hurt. You’d gone with your brother before, but it had never been that intense. Luckily, you were able to get through to the Ferrari motorhome. The two drivers had to go prepare for the practice race, so you waited there.
It took a while, but practice finally ended and you were met with Carlos again. You saw the practice itself and nearly jumped into his arms, congratulating him. He finished pole, third, and fourth.
“It was all for you, corazón.” You felt the guilt you had earlier creep up on you again. It was insatiable and eating you alive. Your heart was hitting your head hard.
“You’re amazing, babe,” Despite the right time and place to say it, you couldn’t bring yourself to say the three words Lando had no problem telling you.
Lando looked more or less depressed. You saw him talk to some interviewers, as they asked him a bunch of questions about the upgrades on his car. He’d tried his best to impress you, but the realization hit him. You were going to go running into Carlos’ arms and not his. He missed the domestic feeling of being with you. The times you’d joke around with his finishes and comfort him if he placed poorly or didn’t finish his race.
The way he looked at you whilst you were smiling for cameras with Carlos was noticeable. The tabloids had picked up on it, and before anyone knew of it; a new story broke out.
“Formula One Love Triangle: Lando looks bitter. This Friday, heartthrob and Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz, held his new girlfriend, the sister of the one and only: Max Verstappen, by the waist to pose for paparazzi and media outlets. Rising mid-field McLaren driver, Lando Norris, was spotted sending frustrated looks the couple’s way. Could something be going on between the three of them behind the scenes?” Your brother read out loud at the dinner table. You just wanted to sit and soak in your misery at that point. Once again, Lando was the source of your problems.
“Are you kidding me right now? You can’t actually be serious. Darling, don’t worry. It’s just baseless slander.” As much as Kelly tried to comfort you, it was to no avail. You’d already lost your appetite. The motivation to work on your case was gone too.
“It’s fine Kelly, I just think I’ll take some time for myself. Thanks for the dinner though,” you sulked and got up from your chair. Penelope was the only one still eating heartily. As soon as you got to your room, your body felt heavy and you immediately collapsed into the soft duvet that covered your bed. You just wanted to sleep it off.
The next morning was the day of qualifying. You decided to go with Max and Kelly instead of with Carlos, as you needed a bit of time to process things. You didn’t even know what you’d tell him regarding the article. He’d probably seen it around the same time as Max. What made matters worse was that he hadn’t called or texted, meaning there was a possibility he hadn’t seen it. That meant you’d either have to act as if it was never written or tell him about it. Carlos already knew that you used to have feelings for Lando. You’d never known him to be the jealous type, but with a scandal like that… anyone would be. Even someone as mellow as Carlos.
“Kelly, sis, you guys can just stay and wait for qualifying to start. I have to go, see you girls!” Your brother left the two of you in the motor home. This gave Kelly the perfect opportunity to interrogate you about the whole love triangle article. She had prior knowledge of your relationship with Lando, which only made her even more curious.
“So, tell me. I’m here for you. You know that,” she said with a gentle voice. She didn’t want to pressure you into telling her anything, but you always told her most of your problems and vice versa.
“I guess… I just don’t know anymore, Kelly. What should I do? I don’t even know if I still have feelings for Carlos,” you sighed and buried your face in your hands. You felt Kelly rub your back with soft strokes.
“Maybe… you should talk to him? Tell him that you’re not feeling it anymore?” She was right, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. You so desperately wanted to hang onto him. He was supposed to be your salvation. Lando wasn’t good for you, and you knew that.
“But Kelly, you know how Lando is…”
“I do, I know how much it broke you… but doesn’t that make it even clearer? You were so heartbroken because you actually loved him.” The possibility that she was right was near 100%, but you didn’t want to accept that fact. Lando made you feel like a second choice after Luisa.
“Okay, look. I have an idea. You should go talk to Carlos after qualifying. I think he needs to hear it.” Kelly was a voice of reason you hated accepting, but she wanted nothing but the best for you. Especially if you were on the path to cheating. You’d never forgive yourself if you ever actually cheated on Carlos. The kiss in the kitchen with Lando was a slip. You didn’t expect it and it was all Lando… right?
“Thanks, Kelly… I really owe you.” She pulled you in for a warm hug. Even if the media blew up about your brother dating Kelly, you didn’t really mind her all that much. She made him happy and she was so supportive of the both of you.
It was only a matter of time before qualifying came to an end. Carlos managed to place 5th on the grid for the race. He wasn’t able to find you near Ferrari, so he decided to go see if you were in Red Bull’s motorhome. When he entered, Kelly immediately took the hint and made up an excuse to leave. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You were really about to break things off with the nicest partner you’d ever had before.
“Hey… are you okay? You don’t look well, corazón.” Your heart only sank deeper when you heard the nickname, but you didn’t want to lie to him anymore. You didn’t want to lie to yourself anymore.
“Actually, I’m not okay. Carlos… I think we should talk.” Those words are the most dreaded in any relationship, and you were springing it on the sweetest guy you’d ever known.
“What is it?” He asked and took a seat next to you. It was hard for you to say anything without having to hold tears back.
“I don’t think we should be together anymore…” The look on his face was that of pure shock. After all, just the day before, you were in the tabloids with him. People knew you as his girlfriend.
“I-I don’t understand. Why?” You heard the obvious pain in his voice. It broke your heart to know that you were breaking his.
“I’m sorry, Carlos. I’m so sorry. I just don’t think I’m fully over Lando… I don’t want to be fake to you, so I think it’s best if we call it quits before anything happens.” Carlos glided his hands through his hair in frustration, trying not to get too upset.
“We can’t resolve this somehow?” He asked.
“I don’t think so, Carlos… I don’t see how we can be together when I have feelings for someone else. I’m so sorry… I really am.” You started shedding a few tears, but quickly wiped them away as they ran down your cheeks.
“I don’t know what to say right now. I really don’t. I mean, I respect your decision… I’m glad you told me before anything happened. I just don’t know what to feel right now. I think I’m going to go home.” He didn’t even let you get a final word in before heading off. Judging by his heavy breathing, you were afraid he wasn’t in any state to drive home safely… but there was nothing you could do about it.
A few minutes later, Kelly came back with Max. Immediately upon seeing your red eyes and puffy cheeks, he embraced you. Nothing beat the feeling of your brother reassuring you everything would be okay.
Max took you home that day, to your apartment. You’d asked him to, as you wanted some time to yourself. Your misery was something you wanted to deal with alone.
The bed in your own apartment wasn’t as luxurious as the one you had at Max’s place, but it was enough for you. There was a pit in your stomach that you tried hard to forget about. You’d blown off your case and asked to be reassigned to an upcoming one since you barely had any energy to do research of any kind.
Your silence and wallowing in self-pity were disturbed by the sound of your doorbell. You clicked the screen and saw Lando standing in the doorway.
“Lando? What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hissed into the intercom.
“I tried going to Max’s place, but he said you were here. Let me in, please?” You knew opening the door would lead to instant regret. It was Lando after all.
“I don’t know, you shouldn’t be here right now.” Your eyes were still red from crying, although your face wasn’t puffy anymore.
“Please, I really need to talk to you.” You sighed and opened the door for him. You opened your front door and could hear him climbing the marble stairs leading up to it.
“Hey…” he said as he approached you. The door closed behind him and you invited him to your small living room with a single couch and tv in it.
“Why are you here, Lando?”
“Carlos came to me. You know how we’re friends and all? Yeah, I think you can guess what he told me.” You stayed silent.
“So is it true?” He asked with a serious but pleasing look on his face.
“I’m not sure what you’re—“
“You have feelings for me? Tell me honestly, do you have feelings for me?” He pushed you against the exposed brick wall behind you.
“Lando…” You whispered. He wrapped both his hands around your ears gently and forced you to look him in the eyes,
“Tell me.”
“It’s just… ever since you suddenly came back into my life and with the kiss; I couldn’t help it—“ his lips feverishly met yours. It was as if his thirst for you simply couldn’t be sated. He grabbed your back and pulled you closer to him, feeling your tits mash against his chest. You tried to reciprocate as much as you could, but the way he was moving so fast gave you no time to think. In a matter of seconds, he was buried in the crook of your neck. He was sucking all the right spots and it sent chills down your spine.
“Fuck, Lando,” you sighed and pulled at his hair, earning a groan from him. Your body grew hotter and your lower region wetter. With newfound confidence, you started grinding against him, eventually pushing him down on your couch. You felt him grow harder and harder the more you moved your hips against his. He didn’t even have to say the word, your top was already gone. He admired the lingerie you were wearing. You usually didn’t wear anything fancy under your clothes, but you thanked the past version of yourself for going bold. Lando took the liberty of unclasping your bra and throwing it into a corner. His hands immediately found your breasts, and his thumbs played sensually with your nipples. They hardened much like his dick. Your head was thrown back due to your sensitivity. You’d only ever had a one-night stand and it was a quickie. Foreplay was completely new to you, but you followed Lando’s flow.
He moved his hands to your hips and started sucking your nipples whilst he undid your pants. You discarded them along with your panties and went on to get his clothes off. His black t-shirt was off in seconds, but when you pulled down his grey sweatpants you saw that he’d gone commando.
“Something tells me you didn’t come here to talk.” You smirked into a kiss with him. It was sloppy and when he pulled away to speak, a string of saliva was connecting your mouths,
“Maybe I didn’t. What are you going to do about it? Cry?” He smirked. For once, you were actually able to enjoy the smug look on his face, as his dick was brushing against your pussy.
“You think I’ll cry?” You chuckled.
“Think? No, I know. I know you’ll be crying my name out loud when we really get started, baby.” You never thought you’d fold over something so vulgar, but you couldn’t wait for him to prove his words.
“Now be a good girl and kneel.” You obliged, getting on your knees. He stroked himself a couple of times before placing his tip on your lips. The man was big. Much bigger than average, and he wasn’t even fully hard. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to take all of him without choking. Perhaps that was the point?
You let your tongue dance around his pink tip, letting it slide further down. You could feel a particularly prominent vein. He twitched in anticipation, and finally, he was rock hard. You’d even managed to get him to drip precum. It was salty, but you relished in the flavour. It was Michelin.
When you finally started to suck, his hands gathered all your hair in a ponytail. You were just over halfway when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. Lando, however, didn’t care. He kept pushing, giving you soft praises here and there. When your nose was able to touch his abdomen, you had to keep yourself from choking, but it was hard. Making it harder yet, he encouraged you to take the last bit of him; which you did. For a price. You choked with tears prickling the corners of your eyes. Lando wasn’t one to cum early, but the look on your face was enough to send him over the edge. You felt him blow his load into your mouth and you sucked him for all he was worth.
Once you’d finished, he pulled you off him and threw you on the couch. You were too dazed to register his next move, but when you felt his breath by your entrance, you knew what he was planning on doing. He shoved his tongue inside of you, whilst simultaneously rubbing your clit with his thumb. You instantly squeezed your thighs around his head in pleasure, which he didn’t seem to mind. You'd never been eaten out before. It was a completely new feeling, but you couldn't get enough. Your moans bounced off the walls and you were sure your neighbours were able to hear you. The walls weren't very thick.
“Fuck, you taste like heaven.” Lando pulled away and replaced his tongue with his finger. The foreign feeling made your walls clench down on him.
“You're so tight, love,” he breathed out. You could barely take it anymore. The constant rubbing of your clit, the praise, and the shoving of his finger was the ultimate trifecta that brought you closer and closer to the edge. When he added another finger, your knot came undone and you came all over his fingers.
The scene in front of you was beyond erotic. You watched as the Brit cleaned his fingers with his tongue, savouring every last bit of your essence. Upon scanning his built body, you realized he was hard again. He’d been turned on by the pleasure he gave you.
“Are you ready? I'll take it slow if you want me to.” You simply nodded, bucking your hips in response. That wasn't the way he wanted to go though.
“Get on all fours.” You'd never done anything but missionary, but you welcome the idea. With one hand, he held your hip whilst the other guided his dick to your entrance. He teased you by gliding it up and down your folds, most likely also to be completely sure that you were ready to take all of him. You were just about to tell him to hurry when— without warning, he thrust into you with no remorse. You coughed out at the sudden intrusion.
“You… Said… You'd take it… Slow!” You gasped. Your face felt hot and your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your skull.
“Shhh, baby, I know it hurts. Tell me when you want me to move, yeah?” His sweet and mellow voice was a stark contrast to his actions. The way his dick was stretching your walls was unreal. He wasn't even fully inside and you still felt like he'd filled you to the brim. The pain luckily subsided and melted into pleasure, which alluded to you giving him the green light.
He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip inside, before shoving himself into you with incredible force. You felt like your body was going to be split in half. With each thrust came a moan followed by an exasperated sigh. It was music to his ears. He was truly in love.
He craved more and pulled your hair back, whilst still holding onto your hip. The pace was starting to become brutal, but being slutted out by him was all you could think of at that moment. You wanted nothing else.
“Scream my name. Let all of Monaco know who you really belong to. Let the tabloids know you're screaming my name, baby girl,” grunted Lando. You did exactly as you were told. His name spilt out of your mouth like a holy mantra. Your eyes were blurry and you were seeing stars. There was no way you could go on for much longer.
It seemed like Lando was at his edge too, as his thrusts grew sloppy but harder. Your insides were being all mixed up by his dick. Eventually, you clamped down on him, cumming with yet another moan of his name. This time, you screamed it louder and for longer. Your walls became too tight for him to move, and it pushed him over the edge as well. Even without having pulled out, his cum was leaking down your legs and dripping onto the couch. You heard Lando seething through his teeth and sighing, as he somehow was able to blow multiple loads into you, before finally finishing.
After he pulled out, you passed out from exhaustion. Lando was no uncivilized person. He carried you to your shower and placed you on the floor, rubbing a loofah full of soap all over your body. The water was just the right temperature to keep you asleep. He then dried you off and gave you his t-shirt to sleep in, as he got his sweatpants and helped you get into bed.
As the two of you got in, he pulled you into his chest, which you subconsciously snuggled into. This was what he’d been missing out on for so long because of his cowardice. He didn't regret anything. Only that he hadn't asked you out sooner.
(To be continued…)
𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
©vettelsdarling
𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
#fanfiction#fanfic#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fandom#mclaren f1#f1 max verstappen#f1#f1 fanfiction#red bull f1#lando norris#formula one#formula one fanfiction#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#mclaren#kelly piquet#carlos sainz#angst#smut#smutty#heavy smut#f1 smut#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n
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Fears and Bandages
Pairing: Thranduil x F!reader
Request: @frustrated-kitten asked: I thought maybe I could request a Thranduil x FemReader where she returns with several injuries after fighting a bunch of spiders with Legolas and some other elves? Some small wounds, some more serious, but in the end she survives and everything goes well?
A/N: I hope it’s what you wanted - I was going to make it more angsty but this is what came out and it stuck.
Genre: slight hurt/comfort
Description: Thranduil’s composure cracks as he waits for you to come home from battling the spiders. He’s only able to put his fears to rest once he’s bandaged you up himself.
Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries. Stitches.
Word count: 1582
Thranduil’s foot tapped against the ground, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest of his throne. Besides the two guards posted at the entrance to the room, the rest of his subjects were steering clear of him.
He didn’t blame them for avoiding him while he was like this - after all, had it been someone else fidgeting he would have been annoyed himself.
It was rare for the composed elvenking to fidget as he was, to betray any hint of apprehension, but today was the exception.
It was well known that there were two people on this earth that Thranduil would do absolutely anything to keep safe, and it just so happened that both of them had gone headfirst into a dangerous situation.
The first, his only son, Legolas. Since the elf had first looked up at him from his mother’s with those wide blue eyes Thranduil had known that he would do anything for him.
After his wife had died that feeling had only strengthened, as the meaning in his life centered around the elfling who was quickly becoming one of the realm's best archers.
For a long time, nothing had changed, until he met the second person he would come to care about more than he would have thought possible. You.
Thranduil had never even considered that he might love again after his wife passed, but then you’d come into his life and he’d found himself falling faster than should have. And he just knew that he couldn’t lose you too. History couldn’t repeat itself. He wouldn’t let it.
Of course, that was easier said than done since you, much like Legolas, continuously risked your safety to fight the spiders that continued to invade the Greenwood.
Thankfully for him, you’d stepped back from the danger once the two of you fell in love and you took to the role of Thranduil’s consort - soon-to-be-queen, but the latest nest was bigger than usual and the spiders began to get more bold so you’d insisted on joining Legolas for the raid.
So now Thranduil sat, fidgeting like an impatient elfling, waiting for news.
He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time - helpless.
Yes, Legolas had promised to make sure you both came back in one piece, but Legolas was also known for saying he was ‘fine’ when he had a gaping wound - Valar forbid he find out what his son’s definition of ‘one piece’ was.
Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. He knew better than to doubt the abilities of you and his son, but sometimes he just couldn’t help but worry. After all, the last time his son had left the palace with a mother-figure, only one of them had come back - granted, that was when Legolas was a child with none of the skills he had now. But still.
He immediately straightened up, movements freezing when Galion ran up the steps leading into the room. “They’re back, my lord.”
Thranduil wasted no time making his way down the steps, Galion rushing to keep up with him as they made their way to the front gates. “Is everyone okay?” Are they okay?
“Everyone’s alive.” Those words were less reassuring than they should be. The mirkwood elves had a habit of using the term ‘alive’ rather loosely.
When he reached the entrance, those gathered around instantly parted for him to make his way towards the glimpse of pale hair he’d noticed through the crowd.
None of the patrol had been completely spared, that was certain, as scratches adorned each of their complexions, the darker blood of the spiders splattered over their uniforms.
Healers had already dispersed amongst the warriors, vials of antidote in hand just in case, and he was relieved to see that Legolas had no obvious signs of injury as he drew closer.
Legolas saw him coming and turned to meet him, voice low as he spoke. “There were more than we expected. We weren’t prepared, a second lot ambushed us after the fight had already started.”
Thranduil placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze - a show of affection that still kept a semblance of formality. “You did well.”
He hesitated, not wanting to brush his son off but at the same time needing to see you. Legolas saved him from asking, nodding towards where a healer was bent over a figure on a bench. You, he realized.
“She’s okay.” Legolas murmured. “Just a bit more cut up than the rest of us.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been on guard to make sure she didn’t injure herself more running off to find you before the healers got to her.”
Thranduil’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he made his way towards you, Legolas following behind.
It didn’t take long for you to look up at the familiar footsteps, a smile spreading across your lips despite the sting as the healer cleaned up a deep wound across your shoulder.
When the healer took her hands from you to rummage through her supplies you immediately took the chance to push yourself to your feet, moving around her and meeting Thranduil half way, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist as you stumbled slightly.
He smirked slightly looking over your shoulder. “I do believe Lothael is about to scold you for using her distraction to your advantage.”
Your healer, Lothael, had followed you, rolling her eyes. She gave Thranduil a wry look. “Yes, well, I can’t imagine that the king wants his queen-to-be to bleed out on the floor.”
Thranduil’s eyes quickly ran over your wounds, double-checking that you weren’t in imminent danger of bleeding out, and lingering on the deeper ones before looking back at Lothael. “I can take it from here, thank you.”
He knew that technically the healer had more better skills than him in the art, but at the same time, he also knew that the only way to completely reassure himself that you weren’t about to bleed out was if he did it himself - he needed to know that he’d checked and taken care of your wounds with his own hands.
It was only when the two of you had left the view of the other elves, leaving Legolas in charge, that you let yourself lean against the wall with a groan, the pain that had been throbbing in your leg since the adrenaline had worn off on the walk home forcing you to give it a break.
Thranduil, whose hand had been resting on your back, ready to steady you at any moment should you need it, gave you a worried look as you pulled away from him to use the wall as support.
“I’ll be fine,” You muttered, grimacing. “It’s just demanding a rest.”
Thranduil gave you a calculated look, and before you could say anything or even begin to wonder what he was thinking, he swept you off your feet, your arms automatically going around his neck as he carried you bridal-style down the hall.
You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, a smile crossing his own face at the sound. “What are you doing?”
He glanced down at you, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I’m carrying to your chamber’s, my lady. Valar knows you’d collapse halfway there if I didn’t.”
You laughed before quieting down and leaning your head against his chest. “I’m tired, Thranduil.” You murmured, the toll today had taken on your body catching up to you.
He looked at you with a soft look reserved only for you. “I know, Meleth. You can rest soon.”
You sighed, staying silent as he reached your shared chambers and laid you on the bed, letting you sink into the silks and furs that covered the mattress.
You had started to drift off when you suddenly felt something cold seep into one of the deeper wounds, pressure keeping it there. You jerked away from the cold sting, but a hand held you in place, and you felt Thranduil’s silky hair brush against your skin as he lent over you to brush his lips against your forehead.
“I’m just cleaning them.” He murmured. “Relax.”
You let out a shuddering breath as he moved the cloth, a few tears slipping down the side of your face as he continued on to stitch the wound closed.
Your strong facade you’d kept up in the entrance and on the journey home hope had dissipated, as had your energy now that you were with the one you didn’t have to act strong for.
Thranduil whispered apologies and reassurances as he cleaned and bandaged the rest of your wounds with a gentleness that could only come from a lover’s hands, occasionally wiping the tears from your face and running his fingers through your hair at a particularly harsh sting.
It felt like hours later when the last wound was taken care of and you heard the quiet clink as Thranduil set the glass bottle of ointment aside.
He remained seated at your size, gentle fingers brushing over your face and hair as he gazed down at you, his own fears put aside now that he’d tended to you.
You held his gaze, relishing the cool touches until you felt your eyes begin to droop, and the last thing you were aware of was the feather-light lips that brushed against yours and the whispered, “Sleep, Meleth.” as you drifted off, Thranduil’s fingers soothingly carding through your hair.
Taglist:
@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee
#imagines#the hobbit#female reader#thranduil#thranduil x reader#thranduil imagine#thranduil x you#my writing
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Drive all Night
(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.
Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)
Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe
Wordcount: 2.4k
🏎Masterlist🏎
________________________
Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.
When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.
Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.
(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.
Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.
Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.
The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.
(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.
While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”
At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.
“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”
This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”
Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.
For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.
But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.
There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.
To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.
He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.
But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).
A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”
There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.
Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.
The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.
No one does. But especially not her.
When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?
It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.
He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?
During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.
And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.
Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.
He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.
Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.
He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.
The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.
Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”
It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.
“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.
“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him
(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.” “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.
“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.
Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.
It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.
But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.
“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.
(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”
That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.
Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”
She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.
“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”
She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.
If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.
But it just drew him in closer.
(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.
“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”
She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”
He doesn’t need to hear more.
Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.
By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.
#max verstappen image#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x fem!reader#x reader#x fem!reader#x you#reader insert
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The Journal
I don't know. Cw: Ghost's backstory
Soap found the unassuming book on his desk. The edges of the paper had turned slightly yellow and they were clearly flipped through quite often. He frowned at it, wondering who went into his room and set this there. It felt... almost threatening.
Soap gently opened the book to look at the first page.
I'm writing this journal as a "therapy" exercise. Frankly I think it's fucking bollocks. I'm fine. I dream about nothing.
Well. That wasn't very helpful. The handwriting was odd. Almost scrawling, like the person who was writing had shaky hands but also couldn't be bothered to hold the pen properly.
Soap frowned. This seemed a rather personal thing to give to a person. But it was in his room.
Just one more page.
Apparently I'm supposed to introduce myself. Fine. My name is Simon Riley. I belong to the SAS. I was a POW for a couple of months. I keep hearing numbers but none of them feel right. I think parts of me are still down there.
I hurt. Everywhere. Especially when people touch me. I can't sleep. Can barely eat. My mum is worried. So does Tommy. I want to tell them to fuck off. I have. But they keep worrying. I wonder if this is how Beth felt.
On the page was a polaroid. A baby faced Simon with nasty scars on his face, still fresh and angry. He looked half dead. Dark circles under his eyes and an expression nothing like his usual. Someone had their hand on his shoulder, but he could only see their arm.
Soap sucked in a breath. There was no way Ghost gave this to him. No fucking way.
He got up and grabbed the book, going straight for Ghost's quarters, planning on returning it immediately and pretending he had found it and couldn't find Price to turn it in.
Ghost's quarters were empty. His knives were missing, but his clothes were still there, meaning he was on a mission.
Fuck.
Soap paused and tapped his foot. He wasn't sure if Price was around. How did someone get this? If he left it in his room, he was worried someone would find it. He'd have to keep it. Just to be sure.
Soap set it back on his desk. When he saw Price, he'd talk to him.
After a minute of staring at it, Soap shoved the book into a drawer and closed it tight. He left to talk to Gaz to distract himself for a few hours.
Gaz was nice enough to tell him that Ghost and Price were on a mission together and that they wouldn't be back for a few days.
No big deal.
A few days with a book that potentially had a lot of answers to some questions he had about Ghost.
Soap didn't make it the night before he was reading more pages. He never claimed to have great self control.
Good morning. I feel like a teen, writing in a diary. I've been put on new medication today. Supposed to help. It makes me dizzy for some reason.
My mum keeps making me tea. She wants to make sure I'm real. I see her hands hovering around me. If I wasn't such a shit son, I'd tell her she can hug me. The thought makes my skin crawl. I see her dead body in my dreams. I see the skull they said was hers. I want to tell her I'm okay, but I don't want to lie.
Soap felt sick. There was a drawing. It was crude, clearly done out of boredom and with no real care behind it. Soap was pretty sure it was a skull that was dripping something. Maybe blood. The ink was all black so there was no way to tell. "Mum" was written several times around it.
I dreamed about her again.
That caught Soap's attention. Her? Was Ghost into women? That seemed unlikely.
She used to speak so soothingly in spanish to me. I wonder if she was like me. Did Roba rape her too?
Soap shut the book and shoved it under his pillow. Enough of that. Nope. He didn't want to think of those words and what they meant.
Fucking too.
No.
No...
No!
The idea of something like that happening to his Lieutenant was... It just... didn't happen.
Soap pulled the book out and kept reading. Just... to prove it wasn't real.
I don't know. It's not a nice thought. Maybe I want someone else to hurt too. I tried to jack off the other day and ended up scrubbing myself raw afterward from how it made me feel. How pathetic right?
Not sure what this is doing. What benefit this has. I'm writing my thoughts. Trying to feel better. Tommy joked about me buying a hooker. I had a panic attack. it was like i was back in high school again. fucking baby.
There was a picture of someone, presumably Tommy, and Simon hanging out. They were both smoking and Tommy was making a sign with his hands. He had a giant grin on his face. Simon had a carved out Glasgow smile that looked like it hurt. Raw. it looked to be after the earlier polaroid. The dark circles hadn't gotten better, but there was more color and flesh in his face.
My mum wants me to talk to my dad. I don't know why. I don't know want to see him. Can't let him see me right now. Maybe when I'm recovered. Last time I saw him, I beat his ass. Doubt he's going to forgive me.
Bastard is pure evil. He gets off on hurting people. Got off on hurting me. I think he's trying to use the cancer as an excuse to get close to my mum again. I'll beat his ass again. I'm putting on more weight. I'll fucking do it.
There was a little stick man drawing labeled 'Simon' and 'Bitch' with Simon beating him to death. Soap thought the blood was rather well drawn, even if the stick figures wasn't.
As the week went on, he kept reading a few pages at a time. He learned... things.
Ghost liked Vanilla tea.
Ghost had been assaulted by more than one person.
Ghost's father had beaten him. A lot.
Ghost was scared of snakes.
Ghost loved his Mum.
Ghost hated most mystery movies.
Tommy was Ghost's brother and was the second most important in his life.
And that they were all dead. All of them.
He wrote an explanation of everything there. In a clinical, harsh detail.
I wish I had died down there in Mexico. I wish I had laid down in that grave and died. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault.
It kept repeating and then he had just started over and wrote over the first layer.
Soap was crying. He couldn't help it. Tommy was so... young. Not to mention the descriptions Ghost gave of his family in general. The pages after that were mostly drawings or scribbles, all made with heavy hands.
Simon knocked. He could tell by the sound he made when he knocked. "Johnny?"
"When did you get back?"
"...Just now. Can I come in?"
"Yeah." Soap wiped his face so he'd look... normal. "Yeah come in."
Ghost stepped inside and saw the book. "Enjoy it?"
"What?"
"I left it for you."
"Why?"
Ghost hummed. "Thought it would be the easiest way to let you in."
Soap swallowed. "You don't do anything half assed do you?"
Ghost's eyes stared at him. Answer enough right there.
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod mw2#ghostsoap#cod#soapghost#ghoap
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hi! how would Valeria and Kate react if their wife’s got hurt because of their work, both of them working highly jobs and it ended up catching up to their s/o. hoe you are doing well and drink plenty of water! thank you!
-🍒
Hello! Both of them would be absolutely distraught, but would go about it in different ways!
Valeria’s and Laswell’s Wife Gets Hurt Because of their Job
Valeria: Whoever hurt you will wind up tortured and eventually, once she thinks they’ve had enough of their miserable life, will wind up dead. Naturally, the first thing she does is check up on you, see if you’re alright and well, that’s her priority. You’re the love of her life, there’s no one else in this world she wants to see do well. You’ll be admitted to the best hospital nearby and will only get the finest treatment. Once you’re stabilized, that’s when the hunt begins. Whoever hurt you won’t get too far since that bastard’s life will be on the line. Regardless of where they might be hiding, Valeria will find them and show them that death is actually a kind of mercy. She has pretty much everything at her disposal, everything money can buy, this sucker won’t know what hit them. If it’s revenge they want, then revenge they’ll get. Valeria promises you that their head will be on a silver plate. She’s not very good with words when it comes to comforting someone, but she will have that person killed in the most cruel ways she can imagine. In fact, she’ll take the pleasure of torturing them upon herself. Once she’s done, she’ll take some days off, which is surprising since she usually can’t afford that at all. You’ll be under her direct care for those days. Anything you want you’ll get. Afterwards there will be a slight shift in her demeanor, Valeria becomes more protective over you. Sometimes she might even assign some trusted people of hers to watch over you since she can’t afford something like that happening again. While she can’t always take some days off, she’ll try to be closer to you anyway. Always texting you, finding excuses to come home for a day maybe. She just really needs to make sure you’re okay, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you died.
Laswell: Laswell will try to be a bit more diplomatic about it at first, trying to coax whoever hurt you out of hiding. This person will be held accountable for their crimes against her world. Naturally, she rescues you first, gets you to the nearest hospital and won’t leave your side until you’re stable again. If it takes you a while to wake up again, she’ll leave to find the fucker and make sure they swim with the fishes. She has a pretty large, efficient network and will find out who it was fairly easily. Once she knows who they are, she won’t hesitate to find out all their past crimes as well, if they hurt you then they must have done some other awful things as well. Once that phase is over, she’ll go to their home herself and have them arrested, put in the worst prison imaginable where the inmates are treated especially badly. She won’t kill them, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they wind up dead anyway. Laswell usually isn’t an evil person, but she does hope that person dies during their time. Their sentence will be as long as possible so there’s no chance of them ever seeing the sunlight again either. Once all of this is over, she, too, would take some days off to spend with you. You’re a priority above all else, so Laswell will want to be there for you, no matter the cost. While she usually isn’t, depending on how severely you got hurt she might become a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective. That overprotectiveness will last for a few months, afterwards she’ll try to give you some space again. However, she’ll always be keeping a closer eye on you, always texting or calling you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. If she needs to, she’ll put you under her protection officially, but the situation needs to be dire for that to happen. Either way, she’ll be keeping you safe.
#cod#cod x reader#valeria garza#valeria garza x reader#kate laswell#kate laswell x reader#fem!reader#I hit over 100k words in my document last night which is so so much#I've written so much for Call of Duty in such a short time it's unbelievable. granted there's one fic I never posted but still#I don't intend to stop now either though it's fun. I'll probably be into cod for a while still anyway so there's that too#besides Valeria and Laswell have me in a chokehold. Farah does too I love them#every time someone requests them I'm very happy. I didn't expect the girls to be this popular though in all honesty#not complaining! it's nice to get to imagine kissing girls. it makes my gay little heart sing#I actually had some art of Valeria and an OC of mine commissioned not too long ago#every time I look at it I giggle and kick my legs a bit#I want her to fluster the everloving hell out of me until I can't speak anymore and am complete mush for her#I know I've mentioned it before but I love women who could absolutely just kill me. and who absolutely would do it as well#cod has some good women. made me realise that older women are also pretty epic#I think I'd melt into a puddle if Laswell ever called me her girl or her wife
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All of You
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)
Word Count: 2900+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)? Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol
Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Javier Peña Masterlist
“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery.
I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case.
Sexy would not begin to describe this man.
“Are those coyotas?”
I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms.
“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”
He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes.
“Could I have a few?”
“Absolutely. Anything else?”
He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up.
“S-sir?”
“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”
I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it.
“Would you like a cup?”
“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not. How do you like it?”
“Plain?”
I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us.
“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”
“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”
I nod. “And you are?”
“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”
I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts.
“Am I hurting you?”
“N-no. Not..hurting.”
He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.
“Wait. I haven’t paid.”
I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”
“No. You deserve payment.”
“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding.
“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks.
Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man.
So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee.
But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order.
“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks.
“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”
The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus.
“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”
There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”
“I..me?”
“You close early enough?”
I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.
“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”
He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”
I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?
Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there.
Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?
“Pastelito?”
I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look.
His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”
“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”
“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.”
I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away.
One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it.
“Javier?”
His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”
Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”
“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.
“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.
“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”
I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?
“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”
“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”
We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.
10 years later…
Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement.
“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”
“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.
I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.
“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer.
“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”
“Neither am I, Javi.”
“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”
“So are you.”
He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity.
“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin.
“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy.
“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later.
His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm.
“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.
I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”
He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name.
“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”
His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”
“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.
“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”
I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.
“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly.
I nod. “Oh yes.”
His eyes darken. “Then show me.”
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getting saved by an underground hero but he’s pretty
imagine you’re walking home one night and there’s a villain attack nearby. somehow you wind up in a villain’s arms, their hand clamped over your mouth with your back to their chest. they’re using you as collateral to get what they want, and you’re terrified that this person might actually hurt you.
then out of the darkness, a man jumps down silently from the top of a building in all black, eyes glowing red through his goggles and long, dark hair floating as he makes his way toward you. you’ve never seen or heard of him, but the villain behind you curses.
it happens so fast you almost don’t see it; a long, thin scarf comes flying your direction and you panic, screwing your eyes shut as it misses you entirely. a fight breaks out. you wind up getting shoved to the ground in the process with a bloody scratch on your cheek. soon, the villain is tied up and on the ground with the hero’s boot on his chest. the glow in his eyes fades as he pulls off his goggles. messy hair falls down around his shoulders. he’s contacting authorities and heroes for backup to take care of the offender under his foot. you move to stand, but he catches you in his peripheral.
“stay where you are. there may be others nearby,” he says.
so you stay. in a few minutes time, he’s kneeling down next to you as you pull away.
“it’s alright. my name’s eraser head. i’m an underground hero. are you injured anywhere else?” he looks exhausted and stern with red lining the whites of his baggy eyes, but there’s a softness to his deep voice as though he’s trying not to scare you.
“n-no. i fell pretty hard, but i’m okay,” you reply.
eraser head reaches out with a hand to examine your cheek, pulling out a few small items from somewhere on his hero costume to clean up your face.
“you’re lucky i was nearby. the hero on patrol was several blocks away. you shouldn’t be out alone in this part of the city this late at night,” he says. his fingers are gentle as he takes you by the chin and cleans the blood off your face.
your neck flushes. “s-sorry, mr. eraser head. i was on my way home.”
the corner of his mouth curls up at the formalization of his hero name. “it’s just eraser head, sweetheart. relax, you’re safe now. we’ll make sure you get home.”
“thank you, sir.” you’re trying not to stare at him as he works, but it’s almost hard to look away.
he can’t be much older than you if at all, maybe a few years at most. there’s a scar under his right eye and scruff on his chin and cheeks. his face is near expressionless as the small smile fades from his lips. he looks into your eyes, making it known that you’re staring. a flush blooms across your features and you quickly avert your gaze. you don’t see it, but another smile pulls on his lips.
“all done.” he offers you a hand to stand. “wait here.”
eraser head walks over to an officer for a brief moment and exchanges a few words out of earshot. with his scarf now back on his neck, he turns around and walks to you with his hands in his pockets and the slightest hint of a grin.
“i’ll walk you home. let’s go.”
if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡
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#would aizawa casually call a civilian sweetheart? heck no but it’s my fic and i want it so 😠#not me dreaming abt a damsel in distress trope with my fav fictional hero#ugh soft hero aizawa just does smth to me#another early morning drabble with no edits#bnha#mha#x reader#f!reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa shota#aizawa x reader#aizawa fluff#eraserhead#eraser head#bakubunny#mdni
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Could you possibly do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader has always been kinda independent and has never really experienced someone wanting to help take care of them and spoil them until Rhys came along?
Let me take care of you.
Rhysand x f!Reader.
Warnings; swearing.
Masterlist.
I hope this is how you imagined this!
Growing up as the middle child of your family you had no choice but do anything alone. Your father was always spending time with your older sister, caring for her and making sure that she had everything she wished for. Your mother on the other hand was always babying your younger sister. When you were eight years old you learned how to make snacks when you got hungry, how to make your bed and how to wash your clothes. You always played with your older sister's damaged toys and wore her old clothes since your parents never bothered to buy new ones for you. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money, when your younger sister was born your mother filled her room with several toys and clothes. As you grew up you started working at a bookstore and after a while you managed to save enough money to move to your own place. Your parents never tried to get in touch with you and even though it hurt, you continued your life like they never existed.
One evening as you were closing the bookstore a handsome male approached you. He was dressed casually but you could still see how elegant he was even in his loose clothes.
“Excuse me do you know where the store owner is?” his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him and almost gasped when you noticed his violet eyes. The High Lord.
“Uhm probably at his house.” You replied.
“Oh, did he say something about a book? He told me to come today to pick it up.” He spoke.
“No he didn’t mention it.” You started unlocking again “Come in maybe he left it somewhere.”
He nodded and followed you inside. “Thank you for doing this.”
“No problem” you smiled and checked the counter and the drawers.
“What’s the title of the book?” you shouted from under the counter.
“Beasts of Prythian” he answered, and your breath hitched.
“No its not here. Maybe he forgot?” you said softly “I can write it down and ask him again tomorrow.”
“Oh okay. Thank you” he smiled and as you stared at his sharp face and those violet eyes that shined under the light of the stars the bond snapped.
That was how you met your mate, the High Lord of the Night Court -Rhysand.
He came the next day and asked you on a date and now a year later you are packing your things to move in his house.
You glanced at your apartment for one last time thinking about the life you are leaving behind and how much Rhysand changed it.
On your first date he appeared at your door with a bouquet of red roses making your heart skip a beat. No one had ever gifted you something and you had to use most of your power to hold back the tears of happiness.
“This is for me?” you had asked softly.
“Well I’m not planning to take someone else on a date and even though I’m amazing I don’t usually buy myself flowers” he had rolled his eyes with a playful smirk.
“You arrogant High Lord” you had snorted.
He took you to a nice restaurant and when the waitress guided you to the table, he pulled a chair back and waited for you to sit. You hadn’t realized that he was waiting for you, so you pulled the chair across him and sat down. He stared at you, and you furrowed your eyebrows.
“Oh you pulled the chair for me?” you had asked him.
“Its okay” he had replied with a tight smile.
“I can get up and come sit there if you want.” You mumbled scared that you offended him.
“No no its fine I’ll just sit here.”
That night he escorted you back home and left.
Your thoughts kept running to the times he did something like that.
When he came to your house with a bottle of wine, and you spent the night cooking and talking. He kept insisting to help you make dinner and afterwards he made the dessert alone, making your heart swell as he offered you a plate with a feline smile.
When he found out you were having nightmares and asked Madja to make a tea that would help you sleep peacefully. You had looked at him like he had grown a second head when he gave it to you.
When he bought you a gown for solstice after he invited you to meet his family. You had offered to repay him, but he shook his head.
“Let me spoil you my love” he had said, and tears streamed down your face.
The next day you used your savings to buy him a nice quill.
“So you will think about me when you work.” You had said and he chuckled.
“I always think about you.”
Rhysand practically gave you everything you wanted, if you stared at an item for more than five seconds the next day he would come to your house and give it to you.
At some point you felt so bad, like you were using him, so you stopped looking at the store windows. Even then Rhysand would get you the most amazing stuff.
“I saw it and I immediately thought of you.”
“Oh come on this screams y/n”
“I dreamed of you in this, you will look amazing. I can’t imagine another female wearing it.”
“This was made for you”.
And always you would furrow your eyebrows.
“Rhys you’re spending all your money on me. I don’t need more clothes or at this point anything.”
“Let me take care of you.”
You gave up and bought a second closet because your old one was full.
It wasn’t only the things he bought you though. Rhysand could always understand your mood. If you were happy, he would immediately take you to Rita’s or for a stroll in the city. Sometimes he would even arrange game nights with his family.
If you were sad though he would make you dinner and spend the day cuddling you, and telling you that everything is going to be alright.
One day one of your coworkers was being rude to you. You had decided to ignore him until your shift ended and then put him in his place. Rhysand came to pick you up and overheard you coworker saying. “Being the High Lord’s whore doesn’t make you better than us.”
You had opened your mouth to tell him off when he knelt in pain, holding his head with both his hands and crying. Rhys strolled in with his hands in his pocket and a cold expression.
“Say that again” he had growled.
Your coworker couldn’t speak.
“Rhys its okay I can handle this” you had said.
“No!” he snarled “say that again”.
When he didn’t reply Rhysand crushed his memories and pulled you out of the store.
“I don’t need you to fight my battles Rhys. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” You had screamed.
“This means nothing. It’s finally time for someone else to take care of you. Your parents may have been useless but I’m not! You’re my fucking Queen.” He had screamed back, his dark power trembling the whole city.
That night you cried in his arms, letting all the trauma out and accepting the new life he was offering you.
“Ready?” your mate asked as he hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I think so.” You sighed and stared at the open door of your apartment from the outside.
“Let’s go then.” He said and closed your door. You smiled thinking how fitting it was for him to close the door of your past life.
“I love you” you softly said.
“I love you too.” He replied and grabbed your bags.
Hope you enjoyed this!
#acotar#acotar series#rhysand#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfiction#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#high lord rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand x y/n#night court#the night court#velaris#city of starlight#acowar#acomaf#acosf#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin
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Just Another Miscommunication
Based on a prompt given by @i-less-than-three-you! I hope it met your expectations! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve had never been so hurt and offended in his life. After several months of dating Eddie in secret from the rest of the Party, they’d decided to tell them. Things were starting to get serious and they knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found out and spilled the beans to the rest of the group.
Eddie had been a little nervous to come out, this was his first serious relationship in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, he had a right to be worried. But Steve knew that everyone would take it well, they’d dealt with literal monsters so being gay in comparison had to be a smaller deal than that.
What Steve hadn’t anticipated was how many shovel talks he would receive. He expected the one from Wayne (although that one still hadn’t come), maybe even one from Dustin. However, the rest of them had been a bitter surprise.
His first shovel talk came from Robin. They’d been in the middle of a slow shift at Family Video when she decided to break the comfortable silence.
“Hey Dingus, you know that you have to be careful with Eddie, right?”
“Robin, he’s a great guy. He’s not going to hurt me or whatever else you’re afraid of-”
“No, no, no. I’m saying you have to be gentle with him. This is his first relationship so you have to be gentle with him. You have experience from dating half of the girls in Hawkins, he doesn’t have that. Just, be careful not to break his heart, okay?” She looked at him imploringly until he nodded.
“I’m not going to hurt him, Robin. We’ve been dating for months and we’ve never had a problem before. I’m not going to hurt him.”
“Okay, I just… wanted to make sure. Now, go rewind the tapes. We just got some more returns.” He groaned for good measure but moved along regardless.
The next one later that day was Hopper. He was leaning against the Beemer in the staff parking lot behind Family Video waiting for Steve to get off work.
Steve smiled at him and pranced over to give him a quick hug that wouldn’t impact either of their street creds. “Hey Hop, what’re you doing over here? Did I forget plans we had?”
“Nah kid, I'm just checking in. The kids said that you were seeing Munson now?” He cleared his throat and continued in a whisper. “You know, romantically?”
“Yeah, we’ve been dating for a few months. Why do you have a problem with that?” Steve glared at him while he waited for his answer.
“Of course not! I just wanted to check in with you. And uh, I wanted to remind you that the Munson kid has been through a lot. Just, just don’t hurt him, okay?”
Steve sighed and shook his head. “You’re the second person to tell me that today. I’m not going to hurt him, alright? I love him.”
“Yeah but things change, kid. You feel like that now but you might end up hurting him later. Just be careful, alright?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Good. Do you want to come over to the house for dinner tonight? I know El and Will would love to see you.” Hopper smiled and nudged his arm.
With his mood thoroughly dimmed, Steve shook his head. “Nah, I have to run some errands and then I’m just going to run home. I’ll see you around though.”
He said his goodbyes to Hopper and ran over to Melvald’s to pick up a prescription and a couple of snacks for his place. While he was there, he saw Joyce and decided to make some friendly conversation.
“Hey Mrs. Byers, how’s Will doing? Is he glad to be back in Hawkins? I know the kids like having him here to DM their nerd game.”
Joyce gave him a tight smile as she rang up his items. “Hi Steve. Yeah he likes it, I think he missed the boys, you know? Him and El weren’t big fans of California.”
“Yeah, I get that. Max always says it’s a lot hotter so I can’t even imagine. How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing well, thanks,” she said while scanning his various chips and snacks. “What’re all of these for?”
“Eddie. He can never choose just one flavor to munch on so I just keep a bunch on hand for him to choose from,” Steve answered, smiling at the thought of his boyfriend.
“You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said, glancing around the empty store.
“Have you?” Steve asked apprehensively. He and Joyce didn’t get along super well so he was a little nervous for her to judge his relationship.
“Yeah. I want you to know that I support you guys and you both always have a safe space with me. But I just wanted to make sure that you took it easy with Eddie. That boy’s been through a lot and I know you didn’t always feel… accepting of queer relationships. Eddie is sensitive and you could really hurt him. So just, be gentle with him or I’ll have to send Hopper over to get your head on straight. Are we clear?”
Honestly, Steve was kind of lost but he nodded in spite of that. “Yep, crystal. I’m not going to hurt him, Mrs. Byers. Have a good day!”
Jesus Christ, did everyone think he was going to hurt Eddie? He knew that he made some questionable choices in the past as King Steve but he’d been trying to be better. Why couldn’t anyone see that?
When he got home, he saw various bikes laying all over his front lawn. Now, the kids could just want a pool day to get out of this disgustingly warm summer weather. However, if they were looking to give him yet another shovel talk, Steve might just lose it.
As expected, all of the kids were situated on his couch and turned to look at him when he walked in. They looked like they were staging an intervention for him.
“Okay look, I’m really not in the mood for this. If you want to use the pool, fine. But if this is yet another shovel talk to warn me not to hurt Eddie, you can leave.” Steve crossed his arms as he looked at them and only Max was brave enough to go against him.
“If you hurt Eddie, we’re going to have El open another gate to the Upside Down and feed you to a demogorgon,” she said in a deadpan voice with a blank face.
El snapped her head to look at her then back to Steve. “Steve, I will not. Max, Steve is like my brother. I will not feed him to a demogorgon.”
“What they mean to say is that we don’t want to see Eddie get hurt. If you hurt him, we’ll have to take matters into our own hands,” Dustin continued diplomatically. Both Lucas and Mike nodded but Will just shook his head in panicked confusion.
“Dustin, I thought we were coming here to congratulate him and tell him we supported him! Why are we threatening him? Steve won’t hurt him!”
The other kids argued that he definitely could and actions needed to be taken to prevent that. Will and El just kept trying to jump in and defend Steve.
And Steve just stared at them. “Okay, thanks so much for the threats. Everyone besides Will and El can leave. You can come back when you stop planning different ways to murder me when I hypothetically hurt Eddie.”
Steve gave all of the kids, besides Will and El, one last glare before he walked into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. Maybe that would ward off his approaching headache. He could hear muffled arguing from the living room where Will and El, his new favorite kids, were no doubt defending him. But alas a few moments later, he heard the noise stop and saw El pop her head into the kitchen.
“I am sorry Steve, Will and I thought that we were coming to congratulate you on dating Eddie. We did not know that they would threaten you. Friends do not threaten to kill other friends.”
“It’s alright El, it’s called a shovel talk. Usually a family member gives one to the boyfriend so they know not to hurt them. I got a lot of them today so I’m annoyed,” he explained to her gently.
“But, you will not hurt Eddie. You love him so why do people keep telling you not to hurt him?” She asked him in confusion.
“They care more about Eddie and they think I’ll hurt him,” his words visibly angered him so he backtracked a little bit. “It’s fine El, really. I’ll get over it.”
She moved towards him and pulled him into a hug. “I love you Steve and I do not think you will hurt him. Even if you do by accident, I will not feed you to a demogorgon.”
He barked out a quick laugh in surprise, “thanks El, are you and Will going swimming?”
“No, we are going home to paint miniatures for Will’s new DnD game. Would you like to come with us?” She pulled back from the hug enough to look up at him.
“Nah, I’m just going to relax here but thanks for the offer. Have fun, okay?”
“Okay Steve, thank you!”
Then, Steve was alone. He was emotionally exhausted and hurt. How could everyone, besides Will and El, believe he’d hurt Eddie? He’d changed so much over the years and now he felt like he was right back where he started. How could they have such little faith in him?
~*~*~*~
Eddie was expecting to spend a nice night with his boyfriend after a few long days without seeing him. Between work, spending time with the kids, and practicing with the band, it felt like forever since he’d gotten to spend any quality time with Steve. But when he walked through the ajar door of the Harrington home, he didn’t find a boyfriend that was happy to see him. Instead, he found Steve sitting on the kitchen counter with a troubled look on his face.
“Stevie, you alright? I hope it’s okay that I came in, the door was open,” he stepped closer to Steve and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “What’s going on?”
“Has anyone given you the shovel talk about dating me?” Steve asked him, his eyes staring into his eyes desperately.
“Um no, why? Should they have?” Eddie asked, confused.
“I don’t know, I guess not. Nearly everyone in the Party has given me one. Robin, Hopper, Joyce, the kids. Why haven’t any of them told you not to hurt me?”
“You want me to get threatened?” Eddie didn’t understand why Steve was so upset. Did he think that he was going to hurt him?
“No! I just- why does everyone automatically assume you’ll be the one to get hurt? Why won’t they tell you not to hurt me? That’s just as much of a possibility as me hurting you!”
“You think I’m going to hurt you? And you’re mad that no one else thinks so?” So Steve expected him to fuck this up?
“Yes!” Steve nodded at him.
“I would never hurt you Stevie and I’m upset that you think I would. Why would I do anything to ruin this? You’re so perfect Steve that I would never do anything to mess this up.”
“Ed-”
“No! What’s the point of dating at all if you’re just waiting around for me to break your heart? That’s all I do though, right? Eddie the Freak, destroyer of all things good. Is that it?” All of the happy feelings that Eddie felt when he first walked through the door were long gone now. What, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to ruin everything like he always did? What the hell.
“Eddie, that’s not what I meant!”
“Whatever Steve, I’m sorry that you’ve seen this coming the entire time and I’m sorry you were right. I should’ve known that I would fuck this up too.” With that, Eddie marched out of Steve’s house and directly to his van. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have left. He should’ve stayed and worked this out with Steve.
However, he didn’t want Steve to see the angry tears that streamed down his face on his drive home. He knew deep down that this was all a misunderstanding but Eddie couldn’t get over the fact that Steve was just another person that saw the worst in him.
~*~*~*~
Wayne walked into the trailer to find it completely dark and silent, both unusual for Eddie. His nephew constantly left all of the lights on regardless of whether he was in the room or not, a quirk that took a toll on both Wayne’s annoyance and the electricity bill. And silence was not a commodity often associated with Eddie. The boy was loud in all senses of the word so for the trailer to be quiet, devoid of guitar riffs or excited rambling, was worrying. With a peek out the door, Wayne saw that Eddie’s van was out there which meant that he was home.
When he looked into Eddie’s room, he saw a pathetic lump hidden under the covers with only an unruly mop of curls poking out. The covers twitched slightly as the lump sniffled. “Eds? Y’alright?”
“No,” he muttered, hiding his face deeper into his pillow.
Wayne sighed and kissed all thoughts of coffee and a nap goodbye. Nonetheless, he sat at the edge of the bed and pulled at Eddie’s shoulder until he turned over. His eyes were red and irritated and his skin was flushed. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you were spending the evening with Steve? He do something?”
Eddie’s face screwed up in sadness as more tears welled up in his eyes. “Why do you automatically assume Steve did something? I’m the one who always fucks everything up, Uncle Wayne. Me! Why is everyone threatening Steve not to hurt me?”
Wayne looked at him in bemusement for a moment. “So you did something?”
Eddie made a muffled noise of outrage and pulled the covers back over his face.
“Boy, I can’t help ya if ya don’t use yer words. Tell me what happened and we’ll fix it,” Wayne tried to reassure him.
“Everybody has been giving Steve the shovel talk and telling him not to hurt me. But no one has given me the shovel talk to tell me not to hurt him. So Steve was upset and told me that I would be the one to hurt him and he was offended that no one else thought so. And then he said that I would be the one to hurt him!”
Wayne just looked at him for a long moment before lightly smacking the side of his head.
“Hey, what the hell!” Eddie yelled in surprised anger as he yanked the covers off of himself.
“Don’t be a dumbass then! Steve was trying to tell ya that he was hurt and ya turned it around on him! The kid’s not saying that yer gonna hurt him, he’s saying he wants people to stop assumin’ he’ll be the one to hurt you when he feels so much for ya.”
“So he’s not saying that I’m going to fuck everything up?” Eddie asked quietly.
“I think he’s sad that everyone else is taking your side and assumin’ that he’s going to be the one that ruins things. He just needed ya to listen.”
“What have I done?! How do I fix this? Uncle Wayne, help me!” Eddie jumped out of bed and started pacing in front of him.
Wayne sighed again, he didn’t ask to be roped into these situations. “Look Eds, go to him and say that you’re sorry and you took it the wrong way. Then tell him that I gave you a shovel talk cause if you hurt that kid again, I’m gonna do more than smack ya upside the head, ya hear me? Now get goin’. Ya best stay over there so I can get some rest, alright?”
Eddie laughed and jumped off the bed, “thanks Uncle Wayne! You’re the best! I’ll go fix it and then tell you about it over carry-out later! Love you!”
Wayne shook his head as he watched Eddie run out the door, “love you too, kid.”
Both boys came back to the trailer a few hours later with takeout in tow. Eddie’s smile was beaming once again and Steve looked relieved. He gave Wayne a quick hug and a whispered thank you over the burgers and Wayne knew that they’d fixed things. There would be many miscommunications between the boys in the years to come but as long as they had Wayne to play interference, they’d be alright.
Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1
#Eddie and Steve go to Wayne whenever they're fighting and he deals with it#Wayne also goes around and tells the Party to stay out of the boys' business when he hears about the shovel talks#Eddie and Steve buy him mugs and baseball caps for his trouble#Well now I’m on the ‘Joyce-doesn’t-like-Steve’ train lol#stranger things#steddie#fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#uncle wayne#misunderstandings#robin buckley#joyce byers#chief hopper#dustin henderson#max mayfield#will byers#lucas sinclair#mike wheeler#eleven hopper
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Dream Come True - Part 7
Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.
A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence, Sexual harassment. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part 6 -- Part 8
Series Masterlist
Everyone was making sure to give Curtis some space. Jake had read aloud the contents of the note you’d sent, “Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything.” This was the excuse they needed to slowly back away from Curtis who was frozen in rage. They immediately got to work notifying everyone in the family. Levinson began coordinating an evacuation of those family members who were most vulnerable, making sure to keep it quick and quiet. Steve and Bucky started moving people around, making sure everyone was armed and on alert. Mace was reaching out to all contacts looking for information.
But all Curtis could do was glare at the phone. The number you were supposed to call when you were safe. The others may have been okay with the note being your signal but not him. He needed to hear you say you were okay. After the way Ransom talked to you he wouldn’t accept anything less than you telling him. No codes, no proxy, just you.
The phone gave a short tone, indicating a text had been received. He grabbed it and stared at the message from you. As the reality of your words hit him he had to swallow down his panic.
“JENSEN,” Curtis bellowed. “Tell me you’re tracking Y/N’s phone!”
“Yeah, what…what happened,” Jake asked.
“She’s in trouble,” Curtis barked, loud enough for everyone to hear. He handed Jake the phone, displaying the message. “Find her ASAP! And message me the second you find her.”
“Curtis,” Mace called after him, “we’ve got higher priorities.”
Curtis glared at his second-in-command, “I said she shouldn’t do this. Everyone else said she should. Now she’s in trouble. We got her into this, we have to rescue her.”
“Be that as it may,” Mace countered, tone calm, “we’re talking about Lloyd and an all out war against the entire family. That’s a lot of people at risk, not just Teach. We have to prioritize appropriately.” The two tried to stare each other down but Mace added, “you know I’m right.” Curtis growled, but Mace didn’t budge. It was one of the main reasons Curtis made him his second: not easily intimidated and always able to keep his eyes on the main prize. It’s what Curtis usually needed to keep himself in line.
Usually. “You’re in charge of the Garbage,” Curtis snarled. “As soon as Jake gives me an address, I’m grabbing an axe and going after her.”
Mace’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of an axe, understanding the implications. All he can do is nod his assent and get back to work. No one had seen The Berserker since Curtis left Wilford & Gilliam’s service and swore fealty to the family. Curtis professed, several times, to never wanting to bring him back. But with you in danger, it appears Curtis would use any means to keep you safe.
Lloyd’s car was probably the nicest you’d ever been in. It seemed to have all of the accouterments a person could ever want. Certainly more than they could ever need. If you weren’t here against your will you’d ask about them or absentmindedly press buttons. Instead, you kept your purse clutched tightly in your arms and kept your face passive. You decided to keep quiet until Lloyd said something, trying to “behave” as he put it. The way he occasionally looked over your body, openly ogling you, had you very uncomfortable.
He pulls up to an impossibly ritzy hotel and turns off the car. He immediately jumps out and opens your door for you before tossing the keys to the valet.
“Come along, Pumpkin,” Lloyd snaps his fingers. You step out of the car and he puts his arm around you before walking you into the hotel. You try not to wince at the touch.
He walks you to the elevator and, when it’s just the two of you, his hand starts wandering down towards your ass. When it gets too low for your liking you grunted, “don’t. Just don’t.”
His hand stops but his annoying grin grows into a full smile, “oooh, there it is,” he whispers into your ear. “That tone just does something for me. I’m sure you can figure out what that something is.” You can’t stop your eyes from glancing down and, in truth, he does appear to be hard. You don’t hold back your scoff and eye roll but it only seems to excite him more.
The elevator doors open to reveal the largest hotel suite you’ve ever seen. The opulence was almost overwhelming. If it weren’t for Lloyd’s very strong arm pushing you forward you would’ve been too scared of breaking something expensive to move.
He gestures you towards a couch, “have a seat and relax, Pumpkin. Take off that cardigan and let me get a better look at the ladies.”
“No,” you snap. “I’m not that kind of girl. I want to just go home.”
“Oh, Sunshine,” he purrs as he walks over to a drink cart. “You lost the right to go home the second I heard you at Ran’s.”
“What do you mean,” you inquire. “We were the only people there.” You have to be careful to not reveal you knew someone was listening.
“Yes, you were, but I’ve had Ran’s place bugged for a couple weeks now,” he cheerfully starts making himself a drink. “My comms guy told me someone was giving Ran a visit so I asked him to patch me through and let me listen. You only argued for about thirty seconds but it was enough for me to know I had to have a few rounds with you.”
“If thirty seconds is your definition of “enough” I’m definitely not interested.”
He laughs at your response and moves to sit next to you, bringing his drink with him, “fuck I love that sass. And that smack you gave him? I was so hard after I had to jerk myself off before meeting you.” You don’t hold back your grimace at the image. He scoots closer to you and you try to scoot away but he grabs your arm, gripping hard enough you’re sure there’ll be bruises. “Be a good girl,” he whispers. “You got Ransom, the most picky, skinny-bitch loving person I’d ever known, to beg after you. I gotta know how good of a fuck you are.”
“I didn’t chase him, he chased me,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “He’s just another asshole who wants what he can’t have. Who can’t have anyone in his life who doesn’t want him. That’s all. It’s got nothing to do with my nonexistent skills in bed.”
“Hmm…” he looks you over. “He seemed to enjoy how you worshiped his cock. And really, what more could a guy want? You worship mine half as good as you did his and I’ll make sure to reward you.”
“Bullshit,” you give him more of that attitude he seems to enjoy. Maybe you can distract him long enough to figure out a way out of this. “You’ll probably just fuck my mouth, last thirty seconds and send me home without even the courtesy of a breath mint. You’re just like all the other assholes I’ve ever had to deal with.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong, Pumpkin. I’m much more dangerous and wealthy than any other asshole you’ve met. Behave, you’ll only have to know about the wealth. Keep fighting me and you’ll learn why I’m so feared.” The pain from him squeezing your arm is growing. You have to switch tactics.
“Wait,” you give Lloyd your best “I’m confused” look. “I thought you said you were into the sass. I’m getting some mixed signals here.” Lloyd pauses at the abrupt change in your demeanor and the grip on your arm relaxes a little. “I mean, if you want the doe-eyed, obedient fucktoy you should’ve said so from the beginning. But you kept talking about enjoying my sharper tones and retorts. Do you even know what you want?”
“I…uh..” Lloyd stutters.
Not wanting him to get his bearings you continue, “I mean, Hugh wanted the whole female dominant experience. He wanted the degradation and spankings. Is that not what you wanted as well? Or…wait, wait, were you after the whole “dominating the dom” thing? You need to tell me this shit upfront! Also I need your safeword. Mine is “Asimov,” don’t ask why, it’s way too long a story and Hugh didn’t pay enough for a long session.”
“He said you were his assistant.”
“That’s the cover story, yes,” as careful as you need to be, you need everything to sound natural. Plausible, even. “Word gets out that someone with his reputation buys his ladies? He’ll plummet in the social circles. Especially with some of the older ladies he schmoozes, you know? So he tells people we’re his assistants, emphasis on the “ass” of course.” You wink and give your most sensual smile to Lloyd. You’re not sure if you’re passing but he’s stopped crushing your arm and has backed off a little. “Hugh said you liked the bigger girls, like myself, so we set up a kind of introduction for you. Let you decide if you actually wanted me. Considering the things you’ve said, I’d say you’re into me.”
With a confidence you don’t actually have you grab Lloyd’s drink out of his hand and take a swig. It burns a lot, but you fight the urge to wince and instead give him a smile.
Lloyd throws his head back and laughs, “oh, Pumpkin. I’m gonna make you my fucking queen.”
You raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”
“Not going to get into the details, but if you suck my dick as good as you act, I’m gonna keep you. You really had me believing you were a sassy secretary. Fuck, you really got me good. Not many people can claim that.” You bat your eyes and he continues, “let me give all your holes a test run and, if you do well, I’m gonna keep you. Let you live a life of luxury. No work, no other men, just my queen in my castle.”
“You may be overselling yourself, Lloyd.”
“You would know a bit about that, wouldn’t you,” he winks back at you and you fight the urge to vomit.
A ding from the elevator thankfully takes Lloyd’s attention. A tall, lean man with blond hair steps out, “Mr. Hansen, I do apologize for the intrusion. You weren’t answering your phone.” You’re surprised at the British accent.
“This better be good, Pine,” Lloyd barks.
“You asked to be reminded of your 2:30 meeting with Mr. Rumlow.”
Lloyd checks his watch and curses under his breath. “Alright, alright. I’ve been reminded, you can go now.”
Pine slightly bows and heads back to the elevator while Lloyd moves closer to you than he’s been this entire time. He grabs the back of your neck and threatens, “if you leave, I will hunt you down and you will not enjoy what happens when I find you.”
“I understand, Lloyd.”
“Good girl,” he whispers before standing up and heading to the elevator. You stay seated, face down, waiting for the telltale sounds of the elevator leaving before you let yourself fully succumb to the stress of the day and pass out, exhausted in so many ways.
Part 6 -- Part 8
Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.
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#curtis everett x reader#curtis everett x plus size!reader#curtis everett x insecure!reader#mafia!curtis everett#mob!curtis everett#curtis everett#plus size!reader#ongoing series
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