#i hope it made them both simultaneously worse and better <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 3 months

Text

you aren't a chore...

mapi x ingrid x reader

r tears her ACL. her girlfriends struggle to help her heal. angst + fluff. mapi didn't tear her meniscus in this because i said so <3

Tearing your ACL while on national duty was less than ideal; not just because it was a months long, intense injury that you knew would be hell to go through. It happened while you were in England, and your girlfriends were in Norway and Spain, respectively. You were dreading having call them with this news, news you knew would hurt them almost as much as it hurt you, but there was no avoiding it.

You were at the hospital, and the doctor had just left the room, confirming what you'd known since you'd gone down on the pitch a few hours ago. You were finally alone, and you couldn't put off calling Ingrid and Mapi any longer.

You started a group face time, wincing when you noticed in the camera how red your eyes were from crying. It only rang a couple times before both girls clicked on, almost simultaneously.

"What's happened?" Ingrid asked frantically, not needing to see more than your tearstained face to know that something was wrong. Mapi's excited smile dropped into a frown, too, and you took a deep breath.

"It's my ACL." You told them, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"No, amor," Mapi said in disbelief.

"It's completely torn. I need surgery." You continued, gripping the sheets under you in your hand, not wanting to cry.

"Are you sure?" Ingrid asked.

"Yeah, I just got the scans back and the doctor confirmed."

"How did it happen?" Mapi's questioned, voice shaking as she spoke.

"I planted my foot and twisted I guess, and it just. Really hurt. I heard it pop."

"Amor, I am so sorry. I'll come to you, I'll fly tomorrow," Mapi said, shuffling around, clearly looking for her computer to book a flight.

"No, no, it's okay. They're flying me back tomorrow to Spain tomorrow. They offered to do the surgery here but I wanted to be home. With you guys."

"Love," Ingrid began, and you could tell from the desperate look on her face what she was thinking.

"No, Ingrid. You'll stay with your team, and win for me. Mapi will take good care of me." You insisted. Ingrid's teeth bit at her lip, an anguished expression etched across her features.

"Love, I want to be with you," She said, and you could tell she was fighting back tears.

"I know, I want that too. It's only a few more days, though. The team needs you, Ingrid, you have to stay."

"Y/n's right. You have to stay with the team. She'll be a handful, but I can handle our girl." Mapi joked, face falling when you only cracked a small smile. She wanted to reach through the phone, to call up one of the English girls and tell them to give you a hug, anything to make you feel better. Glancing at Ingrid's face, the Spaniard could tell she felt the same.

"Can we do anything?" Ingrid asked, thinking that she would move heaven and earth to get rid of the sad frown on your face.

"No, I'm fine, I promise." You said, although your voice and expression told a completely different story.

"Cariño, neither of us expect you to be fine." Mapi said softly.

You forced a smile onto your lips, hoping it was convincing. "Really, I'm fine. I have to go though, they're about to discharge me. I love you guys." You hung up, rolling onto your good side, muffling your sobs in the pillow.

Ingrid and Mapi hung up with each other soon after, both agreeing that they needed to keep a close eye on you. You'd never handled injuries well, but the state you were in on the phone was worse than they'd ever seen. This was a worse injury than you'd ever had, so it made sense, but they were still incredibly worried.

-----

Mapi had wanted to pick you up from the airport, but Barca had insisted on you going to meet with the surgeon right away, sending a car to grab you and take you there. Mapi promised to meet you at the hospital for your consultation, and arrived there in the parking lot a full 10 minutes before you did. She wanted to prepare herself for whatever you were feeling. Honestly, she had no idea how to best help you; neither her nor Ingrid had ever had an injury of this magnitude, they couldn't know what you were feeling. The defender had never felt more helpless in her life, watching you slowly get out of the car, grabbing your crutches, and making your way towards the door, where she waited.

"Mi amor," she said as you neared her, moving forward to carefully wrap you in a hug. You were stiff in her arms, jaw set stiffly, as you murmured a greeting into your ear. It became clear to your girlfriend that you had completely shut down, not allowing yourself to feel the intense emotions she knew must be tugging at you. Not wanting to challenge that unhealthy coping mechanism at the hospital, she simply kissed your cheek lightly, before leading you into the building.

You were quieter than Mapi thought you'd ever been in your life as you made your way into the surgeon's office, face pinched in pain as you settled into a chair next to her, moving your crutches to rest next to you with a disdainful look at them.

You waited for the surgeon, turning to the team doctor that had accompanied you and speaking, voice raspy from lack of use.

"When do you think they'll do the surgery?"

"Depends. Some doctors like to do it sooner rather than later, to preserve muscle strength, while others think the more time taken to reduce swelling, the better. This guy did Alexia's, and he only had her wait a week."

You nodded absentmindedly, reaching one hand over to grip onto Mapi's. She squeezed your hand comfortingly, pulling out her phone to update Ingrid.

Your meeting with the surgeon may as well have been 2 seconds, for all the information you absorbed. Once he told you that he'd operate in a week, you couldn't force yourself to focus on everything he said about the recovery process. If you didn't take this one step at a time, you were sure that you would fail. Mapi could tell you weren't all there, and she allowed you the time to process on the way home, not bothering to speak to you until she asked if you wanted to call Ingrid and update her.

"Can you just tell her?"

"Of course, amor. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Thanks Maps."

If this was a hint to how you'd be for the next week, Mapi felt like she'd almost rather have torn her own ACL. She could tell that you were hurting, not just physically, but deep within you. You wouldn't speak about it though, repeating the words "I'm fine" until they no longer sounded like words. You weren't overly upset, nor were you overly happy. Instead, Mapi got used to the version of you that was quiet, giving her only small smiles and chuckles when she tried to joke around, instead of the full laughs that had been part of the reason she'd fallen in love with you.

As the days passed, and your surgery grew closer, Mapi noticed you become more irritable, frustrated more easily. She talked to Ingrid often about it, completely at a loss for how to help you, as nothing she was doing seemed to work. Her and Ingrid agreed that this period of waiting was especially hard for you; you couldn't do any rehab work, nothing at all could be done until after the surgery. The hoped that being able to focus your mind and body on recovering would bring you back to yourself.

Ingrid, for her part, made up her mind to leave the national team and come home to you at least 10 different times, but you and Mapi always talked her out of it. She was due home the day of your surgery, and you both were adamant that this injury not affect Ingrid's playing time with the team. Ingrid was packing one day, after a particularly rough night where Mapi confided that she wasn't sure you'd slept at all, and Mapi was clearly failing at convincing her to stay. You'd grabbed the phone from Mapi's hand, expressing the most emotion that they'd seen from you since your injury.

"Ingrid, please don't do this for me. I love you, and I miss you, but I want you to stay. Coming home now will only make me feel guilty. Besides, watching you play is one of the only things I'm looking forward to right now."

Mapi practically froze when you spoke, waiting to hear Ingrid's response.

"Okay, elskling. If that's what you want." Ingrid sighed, dropping her clothes back into her drawer. She wasn't happy about it, but she trusted that if you really did need her, you'd ask for her.

"Mapi is taking good care of me, anyway. Not as good of a job as you could, but it'll do." You joked, shooting Mapi a smirk. She feigned being supremely insulted, but really, she was just happy to see you smile again, even if it was at her own expense.

"Alright, you can shower by yourself tonight." She teased, and you glared at her.

"I might as well be showering by myself, for all the help you are."

"I shaved your legs for you yesterday!" Mapi gasped.

"That's not the kind of help I'm talking about."

"If I had sex with you while you were injured, in the shower, while Ingrid was in another country, I think she'd kill me." Mapi defended.

"I absolutely would. You'll just have to be patient and wait for me. And till after your surgery. Think of it as a fun challenge." Ingrid smiled, enjoying the glimpse of the you she was used to seeing, not the empty version that you'd been for the past few days.

"What is fun about that, Ingrid, be serious."

"What's fun is that we're all waiting, and we will all have a very good time together once I'm back, and it's safe for you. I promise, you can be a pillow princess the way you like, and Mapi and I will do whatever you want." Ingrid said sweetly, and you tried to ignore the way you felt suddenly warm at her words.

You gave a dramatic sigh. "Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want." Both girls promised together. Mapi saw the most excitement she'd seen in you all week, and couldn't help but leaning in and leaving a gentle kiss on your temple. You softened at her loving action, growing slightly more serious.

"I'm sorry I've been so awful this past week. I know I haven't been very much fun to be around."

"You have every right to be grumpy, mi amor. You're doing your best, we don't expect any more than that." Mapi promised.

"I can't imagine what you're feeling, elskling. You can act any way you feel like acting." Ingrid assured you. "It'll get easier post surgery, yeah?"

You nodded like you agreed, but you weren't exactly sure about that. You hoped Ingrid was right, you really did. Mapi caught your reluctance.

"No matter what, we've got you, mi amor." She said, tilting your chin to look into your eyes as she spoke.

"Always, kjære." Ingrid echoed, and this time, you felt more confident when you nodded. You weren't sure that you trusted your body anymore, not when it had betrayed you so grievously. You did, however, trust your girls with everything. Everything.

-----

Mapi hated being in hospitals. When she had gone to your initial appointment with you, it was just the surgeons office you were visiting, which was tolerable. But a hospital, with patients and sick people, and doctors and nurses in scrubs, she hated. She always had, and the night before your surgery, you could tell she was getting nervous. You were nervous too, but magically, your stress evaporated when you realized that Mapi was anxious, and all you cared about was making her feel better.

Ingrid was set to touch down in Barcelona after you went back, and she would probably arrive at the hospital right as you were coming out of recovery, which wouldn't be very much help to your other girlfriend who wouldn't hear a word about leaving the hospital while you were in surgery.

You were debating on making Mapi talk about it, when she started bouncing her knee rapidly, and picking at her cuticles; 2 things she only did when she was really nervous. You knew if she continued like this, she'd get no sleep. More than that, she looked miserable, although she tried to hide it, and you hated seeing her upset.

"María," you called softly, getting her attention. She turned to you, and you watched her literally change her face from one of slight panic, to one of reassuring confidence. If you didn't know her so well, you would have bought the second face with no questions asked.

"Come here," you said, gesturing for her to move closer. She must have thought you were seeking comfort, because otherwise there was no way she would have accepted your comfort, and she moved closer, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Are you nervous?" She asked.

"A bit. You seem really anxious though, baby. Are you okay?" At your question, she sat up, leaning away from you.

"I am fine, amor. Nothing to worry about." She said. "I am going to go shower, and then I'll help you to bed, alright?"

"Okay." You agreed, letting it go for now. She smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before leaving the room.

You sighed once she was out of earshot. You'd let Ingrid know that Mapi seemed more anxious than normal, but you didn't want to overly stress out the Norwegian, not when you knew she was already kind of freaking out at the thought that you were having surgery before she arrived home. You pulled your phone out, hitting the contact of the one person you knew Mapi trusted almost as much as she trusted you and Ingrid.

"Alexia? I need your help with something."

-----

Worrying about Mapi turned out to be a wonderful distraction for you, as you both woke early and headed to the hospital. You were nervous, but your attention was on your girlfriend, who had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel with one hand, and yours wrapped tight in the other.

"Maps?"

"Sí?" She said, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, her worry evident in her slightly shaky voice.

"Ale is going to meet us at the hospital."

Mapi blinked. "That is nice of her to come for you." She said, although she was slightly confused. You hadn't wanted to see anyone recently, and although you'd been talking to Alexia, as someone who had, and was currently, having issues with her knee, Mapi was surprised that you'd agreed to her being at the hospital, and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

"She's not coming for me, she's coming for you. I don't want you sitting alone around the hospital for hours, not when you're already nervous." You stated plainly, never having planned on hiding the real reason Alexia was invited.

"Amor, you should not be worrying about me," Mapi complained, although her grip slackened slightly on the wheel.

"Well, I am. So is Ingrid. And with Alexia there, we won't worry as much. Really, you'll be doing both of us a favor."

"You will be unconscious, but worrying about me?" Mapi rolled her eyes.

"I always dream of you, baby. Even when I'm under general." You winked at her.

Mapi snorted, but you were delighted to see a faint blush on her cheeks. She was quiet for a moment.

"Thank you. I appreciate it." She spoke softly, and you could just barely hear her over the sound of the engine.

You pull her hand over, still laced with yours, kissing the back of it. She smiled at you, eyes crinkling the way they did when she smiled really genuinely. You returned the smile, feeling incredibly glad that you weren't really freaking out.

-----

You sat in the hospital bed, all dressed in the stupid gown, feeling significantly less calm and collected. Mapi had settled after learning that Alexia would be around, and her decrease in stress had allowed you to focus back on your own.

You were visibly nervous, hands shaking, teeth chattering, holding rather tightly to Mapi's hand. They put the IV in, and you noticed Alexia mumble something to one of the nurses, who took one look at you, nodded, and disappeared from the room.

"What did you tell her?" You wondered.

"Nothing, just a question." Alexia replied calmly, but the her eyes flicked away from your eyes; Alexia could lie, but she couldn't meet your eyes while doing it. The nurse returned before you could press your captain.

"Something to help you relax, alright?" The nurse said with a kind smile, injecting something into the IV. You didn't know what it was, but the effect was almost instantaneous. Your neck went limp, and your head dropped onto the pillow. Your body drained of tension, and you loosened your painfully tight grip on your girlfriends hand.

"I feel better," you said, fighting back a yawn. The nurse left the room, telling you that they would be ready to take you back in a couple minutes. Mapi was looking at you, amused by the sudden relaxed version of you in front of her.

"Alexia, you really are a great blonde." You said, squinting at her.

"Thank you chica," she said with a laugh. "They gave you the good stuff, huh?

You turned to look at Mapi, raising a clumsy hand to boop her nose. "You're so pretty. Like so, so, pretty."

"They really did give you the good stuff," Mapi laughed. You returned her grin, eyes beginning to flutter shut. You were lightly snuffling against the oxygen tubes not seconds later, out cold, still clinging to your girlfriend's hand.

"What did you tell them to give her?" Mapi asked, turning her attention to her best friend.

"I just asked if they could start her early on the stuff to relax her. My mom had them do it for me when I had my surgery, because she thought I was going to break my sister's hand, I was holding it so tight." Alexia commented.

The nurse entered again, followed by several others, and Mapi knew it was time. She leaned down, placing a light kiss on your cheek.

"Good luck, mi amor. I love you." She whispered the words into your ear, squeezing your hand once more, before allowing them to roll your bed away. She watched as they wheeled you down the hall, feeling a flutter of worry in her chest. They better be careful with you.

Alexia stood next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"She'll be fine, amiga." Alexia reassured, and Mapi nodded, trying to convince herself.

"Thank you for being here. I really appreciate it." Mapi mumbled.

"Of course." Alexia replied. "You better text Ingrid and tell her y/n went back. You know she bought plane wifi, and if you don't update her, I wouldn't want to be you when she arrives later."

-----

Ingrid hated plane wifi, potentially more than she'd ever hated anything in her entire life. All she wanted was to hear that you'd gone back for surgery okay, and also that Mapi was alright, but the wifi was hardly functioning, and Ingrid felt like chucking her phone across the plane. Her texts began to load, finally, as the plane was landing. Perfect timing. She had a text from Mapi, and a text from Alexia.

"They just took her back. She was nervous but they gave her something and she was... no longer nervous. Waiting with Ale now. Fly safe, princesa. Te amo."

"Mapi's alright. Definitely anxious but I'm distracting her by asking her to tell me what her favorite goal she's ever scored is. She's been talking for 20 minutes."

Ingrid relaxed, even cracking a smile at Alexia's text. Her and Mapi's relationship was so entertaining to watch. They spent most of their time together giggling, making fun of each other, but if one of them needed the other, she would be there. No matter what.

Ingrid made her way off the plane, resisting the urge to shove everyone out of her way. She made record time getting to baggage claim, and was just pulling out her phone to call and uber when she felt someone land squarely on her back.

"La princesa! Your taxi service has arrived!" Ingrid tried to be annoyed, she really did, but when Pina climbed off her back, and Ingrid turned around to find her and Patri smiling goofily at her, she couldn't manage it.

-----

Ingrid arrived at the hospital, leaving her bag with Pina and Patri, who had promised to get it home for her, before heading inside. She'd gotten a text from Mapi a couple of minutes ago, one that had worried her.

"Taking longer than they expected. Not sure why. We're in room 402 when you get here."

Ingrid hauled ass to room 402, her stiff legs from playing a full 90 the day before, and then getting on a plane making it rather difficult. She made it at the same time, apparently, as the surgeon, and she felt slightly nauseous as she walked into the room. There were plenty of reasons why a surgery would take longer, but Ingrid could not, for the life of her, think of one that wasn't negative.

She walked right into the room, just before the doctor, quickly hugging Alexia before pulling Mapi into her side. They all looked at the doctor expectantly. He looked frazzled, which didn't make anyone feel better, and he scrolled through your chart for what felt like minutes before finally speaking.

"The surgery was successful, and y/n is in recovery. There was, however, a slight, unforeseen complication."

-----

You woke up slowly, and you could hear before you could open your eyes. You weren't sure where you were, or what was happening. You heard rhythmic beeping, and it sped up as you grew more aware. You shifted lightly in the bed, unable to get your eyes to open. The beeping sped up faster, but someone laid a hand on your cheek, and a soft voice filled your ears.

"You're alright, cariño, we're here with you." You settled instantly when you heard Mapi speak, the beeping that you now realized was measuring your heart rate slowing down again. It took a few more minutes before you got your eyes to open, and, by that point, you remembered where you were, and why you were there.

It was bright when you looked around. Mapi was in a chair next to you, hand holding yours. You looked around, realizing Ingrid was supposed to be there, as was Alexia. Even just waking up from surgery, you wanted to see your girlfriend, more than anything.

"Ingrid?" You croaked out, directing the question to Mapi. She smiled when she heard your voice, and helped you take a few sips of the water on the table in front of you.

"She's just talking to the doctor, she'll be back in a bit," Mapi informed you. There was something off, though, a tightness to her smile that shouldn't be there. It could have been her general discontent being in the hospital, but something in your gut told you that it wasn't that.

"What's wrong?" You asked, forcing your eyes back open when the slid shut again.

"Nothing," Mapi lied, looking at the door almost pleadingly.

"María, what is going on," you said. Before she could lie again, Ingrid and Alexia appeared in the doorway, the doctor behind them. Ingrid smiled softly when she saw you awake, moving forward to sit next to the bed, and kiss your temple. You returned her smile, but focused back on the doctor. He looked... not troubled, but like he was about to deliver bad news.

"What went wrong?" You asked him, feeling suddenly much more awake.

He smiled sympathetically. "Nothing went wrong, the surgery was successful. There was more damage to your surrounding muscles than we expected, so we had to go to the hamstring instead of the patellar tendon for replacement tissue. It means a slightly harder recovery, as you also need to strengthen the area where the graft came from."

You were quiet for a moment. You'd thought so hard about the surgery, considered every aspect, but didn't think that this was a possibility. You weren't quite sure what to think.

"How much longer will recovery be?" You asked.

"The time shouldn't be affected, but you'll be in more pain at the beginning." He explained. You let out a sigh of relief. You could handle more pain, what you couldn't handle was being off the pitch any longer than you already were going to have to be. The doctor informed you that you were free to go once you were more awake, confirming that you'd made a follow up appointment to remove the sutures, before leaving the room.

You looked down then, seeing your leg wrapped up in heavy white gauze, encased in a black brace. Your knee had been swollen before, yes, but it hadn't really looked like anything was wrong with it. Now, though, it was glaringly obvious, a stark reminder of the long months ahead.

"Hey, what are you thinking?" Ingrid asked, tearing you from your thoughts. It took you a minute to gather your thoughts, but when you did, you addressed everyone in the room, trying to put their obvious nerves at ease.

"It's fine. As long as I can get back to playing in the same amount of time, I don't care what they use. I can deal with the pain." You smiled at your girlfriends, and at Alexia. They all returned the gesture, glad to see that you weren't too upset.

-----

You were feeling less confident the next day. The initial drugs wore off, leaving you in considerably more pain than before. Your knee felt hot and swollen, and it throbbed painfully anytime you got up. You were in the extra bedroom, having insisted that Ingrid and Mapi sleep in your bedroom together, so no one would worry about accidentally bumping you. They were reluctant, and Mapi checked on you at least 10 times the first night.

Ingrid had finally managed to get a enough sleep, though, after struggling the whole time she was gone. She was exhausted, and slept for 14 hours. When she woke up, she was furious that you and Mapi hadn't woken her, seeing as though both of you had been up for hours. You, because your knee felt like it had been run over by a snow plow, and Mapi, also because your knee felt like it had been run over by a snow plow. She hated seeing you in pain, and she had hovered over you all morning.

Ingrid shuffled into the extra room a few minutes after finally waking up, curling up next to you in the bed.

"How are you?" She mumbled, looking up at you, face still scrunched with sleep. You smiled down at her, running your finger over the sleep lines etched into her skin.

"Did you sleep well?" You asked, ignoring her question. She yawned, snuggling into your good leg, laying her head on your thigh.

"Slept good. Would have slept better with you there, though." She said, voice muffled against your skin. "You didn't answer my question."

"It hurts." You said simply. You didn't want to talk about it, so you changed the subject. "I missed you." You said. You'd been so out of it yesterday, you didn't really feel like you had enjoyed having Ingrid back home.

"I missed you too, elskling. I'm sorry I wasn't home sooner."

"Don't be. You were where you needed to be. You're home now, that's all that matters." Ingrid smiled at you, eyes fluttering shut again. Sleepy Ingrid was your favorite, and you began to run your fingers through her thick hair, avoiding the tangles. She hummed with pleasure, relaxing further into you.

"How are you feeling, amor?" Mapi asked from the doorway, looking anxiously at you. The smile fell from your lips. Was this what the next 9 months would be like? Every nice moment interrupted by your stupid injury?

"I'm fine, Mapi." You said, voice slightly harsher than it needed to be.

-----

This began a new pattern to your behavior. When you were distracted, you were fine, happy to be with your girls. When you weren't distracted, though, you were miserable. In pain, mostly helpless, and in a foul mood. It only worsened when you girlfriend's asked you questions about how you were feeling; you knew you were being ridiculous, but you felt like the only think you guys talked about was your knee.

Your newfound grumpiness did not, however, mean that you were expressing your emotions. On the contrary, they had never been more inaccessible. Your anger never faltered into sadness; frustration, sure, but neither of your girls could get you to acknowledge that you were upset.

As the weeks passed, and the recovery felt like it was going too slow, you grew more resistant to the help your girlfriend's were anxious to provide. Things were tense around the house, your girlfriends felt like they were walking on eggshells around you, waiting for your frosty exterior to crack, which it eventually did.

-----

You were in the Barcelona gym, 3 weeks post op. You were doing simple exercises, walking from one end of the room to the other, bending and flexing your knee, raising up on your toes. Things that should be easy, but weren't any longer. Alexia was on the other side of the gym, doing a much more complicated exercise. Ingrid and Mapi were out on the pitch, presumably. There was just one physio with you guys today, watching carefully as you did the world's lamest and smallest squats, barely bending your knee, leaning against a table. There was soft music playing throughout the gym, and it was rather peaceful.

That is, until Alexia dropped the barbell she was lifting with a loud clatter. You startled at the sound, twisting without thinking to look towards the noise. As soon as you did, you realized your bad leg was still planted when you turned. It didn't turn much, but it was enough for your knee to erupt in pain.

"Fuck!" You shouted, and Alexia was at your side in a second, as was the physio. "Fuck, something's wrong, jesus," you said, leaning back on the table and taking the weight off your knee.

"Alright, relax, let me look," the physio said, guiding you to lay back on the table. Alexia moved to stand by your head, laying a hand on your shoulder.

"Something is wrong," you said again, even though the pain was rapidly fading. The physio looked at your knee, poking and prodding at it gently, before looking at you.

"How much does it hurt?" He asked calmly.

Tears were stinging your eyes, and your voice trembled as you responded. "Not-not much, it's fading."

"No pain?" He asked again after a minute, applying pressure to each side of your knee.

"No, not anymore," you choked out.

"I don't think anything is wrong. If it was, the pain wouldn't be fading. The incisions look fine. You're okay, you just tweaked it."

"No, no, no. Something is wrong, it doesn't feel right, Ale it doesn't feel right." You cried, turning your attention to Alexia over you, her hand moving up and down your arm. You were fully panicking now, tears falling freely down your face, hands gripping at your shirt as if to tether you to the present. Alexia exchanged a look with the physio.

"Chica, you're okay, this is normal, nothing is wrong." She assured you, but you just shook your head frantically in response.

"No, I messed something up," you gasp. You sat up suddenly, almost smacking your head into Alexia's face. "I need scans, I need to do something," you say, moving to get off the table. Your knee didn't hurt anymore, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you had messed something up, horribly so. Alexia stopped you, resting her hands on your shoulders, holding you down on the table.

"Y/n, you need to calm down. You haven't messed anything up, everything is okay." She soothed. It clearly wasn't working to calm you, so she turned to the physio. "Get Mapi and Ingrid," she murmured before turning her attention back to you.

"Come on, amiga, you need to calm down," Alexia said. You could only shake your head, broken sobs falling past your lips. You hid your face in your hands, completely disconnecting from the world around you. Your ears were ringing, the only thing you could hear was blood pumping in your ears. You didn't know how much time had passed before different set of hands were cradling your face, urging you to look up. You do, and find the worried faces of your girlfriends in front of you. Ingrid has her hands on your face, and Mapi has taken one of your hands in hers, squeezing gently.

"Somethings... wr-wrong, help," you get out, looking between them frantically.

"No kjære, it's okay, nothing is wrong." Ingrid promised. For some reason, you believed her when you hadn't believed the others.

"Are you- are you sure?" You asked.

"Yes, cariño, the physio said you just tweaked it. You are completely fine." Mapi said softly.

"I didn't mess it up?"

"No, darling, you didn't mess anything up."

You nodded jerkily, leaning forward to rest your head on Ingrid's sternum, tugging on Mapi's hand until she moves closer.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry about the barbell, it slipped out of my hands," Alexia begins from the other side of the table, and you can hear the guilt in her voice.

"It's okay, Ale, it's not your fault." You mumbled into Ingrid's chest, reaching a hand out to the side. Alexia grabs it sighing in relief, squeezing once, before pulling away, giving you and your girlfriends some privacy. You stayed hidden away, leaning against Ingrid. You're clearly still emotional, but you don't seem interested in speaking, or moving again. It's quiet for a few moments, before you finally pulling away, wiping at your eyes.

"Can we go home?" You asked.

"Yeah, let's go home." Mapi agreed easily. You stood, taking a tentative step. Your face burns with embarrassment when you don't feel anything out of the ordinary in your knee. You'd freaked out for nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-----

You'd been sitting in silence on the couch since you'd arrived home 20 minutes ago, staring blankly at the dark TV. Your knee was propped up in Ingrid's lap, an icepack wrapped snuggly around the swollen appendage. Mapi was on your other side, resisting the urge to take you by the shoulders, shake you, and beg you to talk to them. Her and Ingrid had agreed to let you come to them, though. There was no use pushing you. Their patience is finally rewarded.

"Sorry I freaked out and you both had to leave training early." You said, raw voice startling your girlfriend's out of their thoughts.

"Don't be so-"

"-Please don't tell me not to be sorry. I've been such a burden for weeks, and you keep telling me not to be sorry about it. I am sorry about it, and I don't understand why you aren't annoyed with me." You cut in, spitting the words with an intensity neither of women was expecting.

"You are not a burden, y/n," Ingrid said, hurt bleeding into her tone.

"Yes I am," you dismiss. "You've had to do everything for me these past few weeks, and all I've done is act like the world has ended. It's just a knee injury, I don't know why I'm acting like this."

"Amor, it is okay if you feel like the world has ended. This is a big thing, and you are allowed to feel things. You don't have to push everything down, it's not healthy."

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "You already have to take care of me. You shouldn't have to deal with the mess inside my head too."

"You could not be burden, darling, not to us. We don't mind taking care of you, not at all. And we want to know what's going on inside your head. It's been driving us crazy, not knowing what you're feeling. We want to know, y/n, we want to know it all." Ingrid's voice has a clear undertone of determination in it.

"You guys are so busy," you argue weakly. They were; the past weeks juggling you and the team had been draining. It was obvious to you. They hadn't realized how much you'd noticed it.

"We are never too busy for you, amor, and I'm so sorry if we've made you feel like we are." Mapi said gently. "You are our priority."

You finally looked up at them, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's just been hard. You guys get to go play, and I stay here, or go to the gym. And you spend all this time together at training. All the time you spend with me is you guys making sure my knee is okay."

Both of your girlfriend's faces are ones of horror at your confession. They hadn't realized you'd been feeling like this, not at all.

Mapi places a hard kiss on your temple, resting her chin on your head. "If I could switch places with you, cariño, I would. Watching you go through this, be in so much pain, has been killing me. I want to fix it, but I can't. All I can do is try to help, try to make you feel better. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were just a task for us, just a chore to be taken care of. You are our girl, nuestra niña bonita, and we love you, more than anything."

There are silent tears falling from your eyes when Mapi is done talking. She's said everything you've needed to hear this whole time, but were too nervous, too worried about being a burden to them to ask for their reassurance. Ingrid's hand lifts, carefully wiping a tear off your cheek, prompting you to look at her.

"No more of this, okay? When you need us, whether it's attention, or our help with something, or just a distraction, you tell us. You tell us, and we'll do it, whatever you need. You're not alone in this, darling. We're here for anything, really. Just like you would be for us if the roles were reversed."

You feel slightly silly when she reminds you of that. Obviously, you would do everything within your power to help one of your girlfriend's if they were going through this. Why you expected them to not really want to do the same was beyond you.

"Okay." You murmur, eyes on Ingrid as she scoots closer, pressing into your other side. You've been reminded of something, something Ingrid had promised you over the phone. Whatever you want, she'd said. You knew what you wanted, and you knew you needed to ask for it.

"Could I ask for something now?" You wonder quietly, and you hear Mapi laugh above you, clearly anticipating what you're about to ask for. Ingrid has the decency to pretend she doesn't know.

"What would that be?" She asks, placing her hand on your upper thigh.

"You promised me something about you and Mapi doing whatever I wanted?" You grin.

"Hmm, do you think you're ready for that, elskling?"

"God, yes. I'm ready, I promise." Your voice is already needy, already desperate.

"Mapi, go get things ready." Ingrid instructed, and you feel Mapi rise from next to you, and walk away into the bedroom.

"How do you know what to get ready if I haven't said what I want?" You questioned, looking up into the Norwegian's dark eyes.

Ingrid leaned forward, pressing light kisses in a trail up your jaw, stopping just by your ear. "I know what you want better than you do, pretty girl. I thought you knew that by now."

You shivered with excitement. "Don't be too careful with me, okay?"

"We'll be as careful as we need to be," Ingrid promised. Ingrid's lips meet yours, pressing harder than she has in weeks. It's the most she's touched you since your surgery, really, and you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. The wait will have been worth it, you're sure of that.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader

800 notes · View notes

suckerfordylansstuff · 2 years

Text

New Journey (S.H) Prologue Season 4

Pairing: Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: Back to Hawkins for spring break. Y/n believed it would just be a quiet time to cherish with her loved ones, but one day in and another mess had already began.

Warnings: cursing

Notes: Here it is! The long awaited season 4! I couldn't wait any longer. I will be writing simultaneously the backstory and season 4. I have devided the first episode into two chapters since the prologue was becoming too big (it's nearly 4.5k) and felt too tiring to put the basketball match in this one as well. So, I hope you enjoy this new season and thank you for waiting! 💕

P.S.: If at times I make Dustin a bit more "rude", or distant or anything, and you notice how I'm focusing on the fact that he's a teen now, is because I know first hand how boys this age act, since my brother is at that age. Sometimes I hate how uncaring he seems or how he hides his real emotions, so I just wanted to put that into Dustin's character. I noticed Dustin's sarcasm peak in the fourth season so I feel like that's what the Duffer Brothers were also trying to do.

Gif not mine

Epilogue Season 3 << New Journey Masterlist >> Chapter 1

You can’t believe you’re going back to Hawkins. It has been almost seven months since you left to go to college at Michigan. Sure, the states were next to each other, but it’s a five-hour drive. It wasn’t very enjoyable. But now it was spring break, and you were both excited and anxious to leave. You really wanted to see your family and friends but going back to Hawkins almost brought chills down your spine.

You still had nightmares about all the creatures you had encountered and all the deaths you had to deal with. Being alone didn’t really help that much. So, despite Hawkins being the reason for your nightmares, your cure was there as well, waiting with open arms to welcome you. You knew once you hugged everyone, you would have not a worry in your mind.

Due to lessons and your studies, you hadn’t been able to visit sooner, but your family had more opportunities to come see you in your new place. Well, in your new dorm to be precise. The thing was that you didn’t have a roommate. The college had assigned you one, a girl named Harriet, but she decided to rent a house with her boyfriend, leaving you by yourself.

Dustin loved Michigan during the wintertime. Him and your mom came to visit you during Christmas, spending some quality family time. You had loved every second of it, but you had to say goodbye after the holiday since they had other things to focus on, your mom with her job and Dustin with his assigned homework (he couldn’t stop whining about it).

He had changed quite a lot. It still shocked you that he is a teenager now. You still pictured him as this little boy running around the house chasing Mews. But those days were far gone and he proved that to you with every chance he could get. His temper was worse, he got annoyed easier than ever and his sarcasm was over the roof. He truly was growing up to a typical teenager.

Over the next few months you had seen the two a few more times when they drove to see you on some weekends (Dustin sometimes drove here with Steve), but both your schedules made it impossible to visit more. You did talk a lot, exchanging news and gossip a couple times a week through the Cerebro, but that was it (you’d never admit it to him, but you were glad Dustin persuaded you into taking it with you). One more thing that made you even more excited to visit now was to spend two weeks with them, unbothered of anything else in the world.

Despite seeing your family only a few times this school year, you couldn’t say the same about your boyfriend. After the fiasco at the mall, you could proudly say that you and Steve were better than you have ever been before. Yeah, the long distance was tiring at times, frustrating even, but staying a couple was the best decision you could have made.

Steve acted on impulses, so a lot of times you would wake up in the middle of the night on someone knocking at your door, only to see Steve, who had driven the five hours so he could spend the weekend with you. You kept telling him he didn’t need to come so often, spend so much money and time driving, when you already had planned dates on when you would meet, but he’d just say he had nothing better to do at Hawkins, so he’d visit. He clearly lied since every time he’d come your friends would talk to you through the Cerebro complaining about where he was and why wasn’t he back home doing the things they had planned to do. He had stood up Dustin so many times, he kinda hated you for it, but he also secretly liked seeing you both in love, like him and Suzie (his words, not yours).

You never complained, though. You loved being with him. Every time he would come unexpectedly, you were able to feel your whole body relax, your smile became ten times bigger and you couldn’t stop laughing. You never had nightmares when he was around, finally getting some good nights of sleep. He got along perfectly with the friends you had made here and you could see he liked being somewhere knew. He still hadn’t come to an agreement with his father, who made him work to ‘fix his mistakes’, but you had faith that someday he would come stay with you… Maybe sooner than you thought. He needed an escape from this scary town for more reasons that you could think of.

So here you were, sitting at the longest bus ride ever to go surprise them. You had lied when your mother had called saying that you had this annoyingly long essay to write and you wouldn’t be able to come on the first week of your break. Not only were you coming early, but you also skipped last day of your lessons so you could arrive at their last day before the break.

After six painful hours you finally arrived at Hawkins. It was now seven am. Still plenty of time to say hello to your family before they had to leave for school and work. You had your key, so you just entered the house. You couldn’t hear anything, so you guessed they were still sleeping. This brought an idea in your mind. You search the kitchen and saw all the ingredients you needed to make pancakes. By the time you had set the table, you heard a door open.

“Dusty? Did you make breakfast?” your moms voice echoed through the halls as she came closer and closer to the kitchen.

“Yeah, as if Dustin can cook anything other than toast.” you joked and a second after your words, you were able to see your mothers shocked face.

“Y/n?!” she smiled and ran to hug you. You couldn’t stop giggling as she swayed you back and forth, her hug becoming tighter “How- When- When did you come? Why?”

“Do you not want me here?” you laughed.

“No, no, Of course not. You know I love having you here, but you said…”

“I lied about the essay. I wanted to surprise you by coming early. You have two whole weeks of me.” you had a cheeky smile on your face.

“Oh, sweetie.” your mother hugged you again and you were pretty sure she had tears in her eyes. After the rush of excitement passed, you both sat down and enjoyed the breakfast you had made. You just sat and listened to all the news she had from the small town. You didn’t realise how fast time had pasted until you glanced at the clock.

“Is Dustin going to wake up anytime soon? He has school in like twenty minutes…”

“Oh, he’s awake. He just spends an absurd amount of time talking to that radio he's built before he has to leave every day.” she casually answered as she gathered her plates putting them on the sink.

“Any idea who he’s talking to?” you asked while you drank your cup of coffee.

“No, he hasn’t told me a thing. Do you know?” she glanced at you while she washed the dishes.

“I have something in mind… I’ll go check.” it had to be Suzie, but you wanted to go annoy him a little bit. You honestly couldn’t believe they were still ‘seeing’ each other. With the distance and their were still going strong.

You knocked at his door waiting for his answer “Yeah, mom, I’ll be out in a second!” he yelled so you could here him through the wooden door.

“Is Suzie doing alright?” you smiled as you heard noise from his bedroom. You could picture his confused face and how quickly he would stand up to open the door. Not five seconds later the door swung open and you saw your brother’s face scrunched up.

“Y/n? Why are you here?”

“Wow, such a warm welcome.” you stood at his door waiting for him to hug you, but he just turned your back at you getting his backpack and the notebook from his desk, before he spoke into the Cerebro.

“Suziepoo, thanks for the help, but I need to head to school now. I’ll talk to you later, I love you.” the nicknames still didn’t sit right with you.

“I love you too, Dustybun.” the girl answered and then the line was dead.

You watched Dustin gather some more stuff and put it into his backpack, before he walked out of the room, giving you only a smile on his way out.

“Aren’t you gonna welcome me?” you questioned, feeling a little sad towards the lack of excitement from your brother.

“Didn’t you say you had this project you had to work on? How come you’re here?” he was heading towards the living room looking for something as you followed behind.

“I lied so I could come here to surprise you, guys!” you explained your plan with a smile on your face, still waiting for a hug.

“Yeah, but we already knew you were gonna come for some time here, so it’s not really a surprise.” he simply said, finally finding some dice he had accidentally dropped on the couch.

“Yes, but I came early.” you explained once more following him to the kitchen.

“Still not much of a surprise. Those pancakes are though, thanks.” he finally said something nice towards you and you left it at that, sitting at the table to eat.

“You’re welcome, I guess.” you had to remind yourself that he was now a teenager. Not only that, but a boy teenager. You could understand how he was feeling. He wanted his space, most things annoyed him and he was… exploring himself. You knew he wasn’t the same boy that hugged you every morning anymore, but you were still his sister. You made a mental note to talk to Steve about how to approach this situation.

Dustin ate quickly, hurrying to head to school. He shot up from his chair and walked at the front door.

“Want me to drive you?” you asked, sounding way too excited. Your car was still parked outside, waiting until Dustin got his driver’s license.

“No, I’m fine. Bye!” and just like that he was out the door.

“God… Was I this distant as a teenager?” he sat back down on your chair toying with the leftover pancakes on your plate.

“Come on, you need to bear with him. Everything’s changing around him, but he’s still the same person. I’m sure he’s really glad to see you.” your mom answered with a smile.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“He’s a teenager, what do you expect him to do?” you knew she was right, but you thought your connection was different. You weren’t like that to him when you were that age. Then again, you’re not the same people. You’ve always known that Dustin had a bad way of expressing his emotions. Or maybe you were making a big deal out of nothing. You did see each other throughout those months and you did talk a lot over the walkie. It’s not like you hadn’t seen each other for years.

Still, is a hug too much to ask for?

After half an hour you decided to go see Steve. You hoped the surprise would still excite some more people.

You got into your old car, waved goodbye to your mother, who was also heading to work, and started driving towards Steve’s work. Even though you were not here for these seven months, you knew his schedule by heart. Today he worked till noon and after Keith would come to replace him. Robin couldn’t work today due to school and band practice before she had to attend the basketball game.

You arrived at ‘Family Video’ and the only other car in the parking lot was your boyfriend’s. He had to come in and open the store which opened in twenty minutes, so he would have no customers. Giving you some time to yourselves.

You entered the store looking around for any sign of your boyfriend, when a voice announced from the backroom “We open in twenty, please wait outside until then.” he sounded annoyed. Steve can’t understand why some people couldn’t just read the sign outside. It was too early for him to deal with stupid customers.

“Oh, then I’ll just come back later.” that voice. He knew that voice. He would recognize it anywhere. He instantly let the VHS tapes he was holding fall on top of the table and opened the door to the front of the store. You were there. Standing in front of him with a huge smile on your face as you saw him.

“Y/n!” you saw him as he sprinted towards you, taking your whole body into a hug. You laughed as you threw your arms around him, grabbing onto him as he spun you around. His face was buried on the crook of your neck while he spoke “What the hell? I thought you were coming next week.”

“I decided to come early. Surprise!” you faced him again, his grin widening as he took in your face. You were just a breath away from each other, your noses almost touching, your arms still tangled.

“Oh, I missed you so much.” he started kissing you all over your face, his lips as soft as always, finally ending his journey on your own, kissing you sweetly.

“You saw me three weeks ago, how much could you have missed me?” you giggled between the kisses. Your words were just for teasing. You knew how much he missed you, cause you were feeling the same thing.

“A lot. Now shut up, Henderson.” he groaned against your lips, his arms tightening around you. He backed you slowly towards the counter, your back leaning against it while he deepened the kiss. You missed him so much. Being apart for long periods of time didn’t kill a single spark between you, just made you realize how well you fit together. How much you know and love one another. Every time you separated you were counting the days, hours, minutes you’d meet up again. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, always wanting to make sure he was safe and sound.

Right now wasn’t any different. Your only thought was Steve Harrington, but in a very different way.

The way he was holding and touching you made you forget about everything else around you. Only focusing on his hands and his smell, his soft skin and rich hair as your fingers ran through them. The way his lips left your own, but immediately attacking the sweet spot on your neck he loved so much. You were focusing on the way his breath hitched everytime your nails would scratch his scalp or back, completely forgetting the fact you were in a public place, in Steve’s work place and if the ringing of the phone hadn’t pulled you both from the state of this trance you had lost each other to, a lot more things would have happened.

“My God… It’s probably stupid Keith checking in on me. He does it every time I have the morning shift, thinks I’m incapable of managing on my own.” he let his head fall on your left shoulder, groaning out his words.

“Answer it. We have a lot of time to enjoy each other’s company. Don’t worry, sailor.” you whispered the last three words next to his ear and you knew you were making it worse for him to go pick up the phone, but you didn’t care. You wanted to rail him up as much as you could all day and then repay him at night.

You saw his jaw clench at the sound of the nickname. He looked down at you one more time, taking you face on his hands giving you one last rough kiss, before he mumbled under his breath and left to answer the phone from inside the counter “That goddamn nickname.”

He loved it deep down. You always said it in a tone that made everything inside of him burn and yearn for you. You started saying it when he had got the job at Scoops Ahoy, making fun of him for the costume him and Robin had to wear but it kinda grown on both of you. You always said you ‘loved a man in a suit’, even if that suit was to serve the people’s need for ice cream.

Your smile grew watching him argue with Keith about the deliveries that were supposed to come in today. You guessed the call would last some time, so you decided to take a look around the store. Still the same layout, but many new films on the shelves. You read the description of the ones that caught your eye to maybe find anything for the two of you to watch. Maybe even a film to pick on Dustin’s interest.

By the time Steve hang up the phone he had to open the store and get to his actual work, helping customers and rearranging the misplaced or returned movies. Every moment he would steal some time to himself he’d come and show you how much he loved having you around again. You talked about every new thing that has happened from the last time you had talk. You sharing new stories you had with your friends at college and him telling you all about the gossip around town. You also learned about this new girl that Robin likes. She hadn’t told you anything, which made you confused since you pretty much shared anything with each other, but Steve said she didn’t like to talk much about her.

Her name is Vickie and Robin was certain she was not into girls, but Steve demanded she was since she had paused Fast Times at 53 minutes and 5 seconds (whatever that meant, he never explained it). In his mind she made it obvious. You just laughed along to his words telling you all about what everyone was up to.

He was currently talking about today’s game and how excited he was to see the school win and Lucas playing. You had learned that your school made it to the finals of the Championship and you made the decision to go see him play. Every time he talked about one of the kids he looked so proud and loving, even when he was cursing them for doing something dump or dangerous you could tell he was glad to be around them. You looked around the store and saw no one. You were alone so it was the perfect time to have that serious talk you wanted to have with him about Dustin

“Hey… Can talk to you for something serious real quick?” you cleared your throat. You were sitting on top of the counter, playing with your fingers. He turned to look at you and the way you looked anxious made him stop in his tracks, worrying.

“Uh-oh. Last time that happened, we broke up.” He tried to play it off as a joke.

“No, no, not that serious, just…” you laughed a bit, trying to get your thoughts in order “It’s about Dustin.” You said, eyes locking with his.

“Oh, what about him?” he was relieved he hadn’t done anything.

“This morning I went to surprise him, and it seemed like he didn’t even care I was back. Like I know I wasn’t gone for years or anything, but I didn’t even get a ‘Welcome home’ or ‘I missed you’. I didn’t even get a hug. Mom says he’s not that affectionate anymore since he’s a teenager now, but is this how things will be with us from now on? He’ll just not care? Am I crazy for thinking that? I just wanted to talk to you about it since you’ve been a teen boy before, and if you had any similar feelings or something? I feel like I’m being a bit too much… Am I being too much?” you rambled on and on, not noticing how Steve had moved his body in front of your own, settling between your legs. He cupped your face, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Wow, wow, slow down, babe. Relax. Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but your mom is also right. You can’t expect from a teenage boy to want to cuddle with his big sister anymore. He’s not a child.” He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but he knew you never wanted to be lied to, even when it was out of pity, so he expressed his thoughts as they were.

“Has he changed around you too?” your hands had now circled around his waist, not letting him escape from your touch.

“I mean, we never had a lovey-dovey relationship like you guys, but now that I’m thinking about it our conversations have changed. They’re more… mature, if you know what I mean.” He winked and you immediately frowned.

“That’s disgusting. You’re talking to my brother about these things?” you only hoped he excluded memories of the two of you together.

“He has to talk to someone about it, who’s he gonna talk to? His mom? You? Guys need guys for these things and I’m pretty experienced so he’s getting the real deal.” He had this stupid grin on his face that you loved so much. Still, your mind wandered off to your original problem. Steve noticed and he took your hands in his one more time, reassuring you.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. But you can’t expect him to stay the same forever when none of us have. I mean, look at me. I used to be worshipped in high school and now I’m a full-time babysitter to six kids.” You laughed at his words. You smiled looking up at him, before taking a deep breath.

“I guess I’m just worried…” you started saying but stopped. You weren’t sure how to express what you were feeling. You always had this problem. Wanting to say a specific thing you thought but coming out wrong. However, Steve’s smile was so genuine, waiting for you to get ready while stroking your hands with his thumbs, that after a sigh you continued “Ever since I could remember Dustin and I have been a team. I was always there for him as he was for me. We did everything together and now… Now I’m miles away and he’s here and I feel like this distance will ruin that. He’ll grow out of the childish need to look for me everywhere for comfort and he will grow into the brave man that I know he is. He’ll find more unique and interesting people, like you, and he’ll forget about me…”

You finally admitted it. You didn’t like college. Well, you did like the new experience and your lessons (most of the time), but you hated your time there. All because you were alone. The first night you spend at your dorm went horribly. When they informed you that you wouldn’t have a roommate, fear creeped upon you. Back then, the incidents of the Starcourt Mall were still fresh in your memory, making your nights dreadful. You had hoped that having a roommate would be a distraction, but now you were alone in a dark room surrounded by nothing other than your thoughts.

You had talked to Steve about this a few times, but not enough to get him too worried. Maybe that’s why he visited you more times than your usual dates. You didn’t know and frankly you didn’t want to know. You were just happy to have someone else there with you.

“You get pretty lonely up there, huh?” he hated seeing you sad. He had hoped leaving this town will only do you good. A break from the madness, but this wasn’t about what had happened. This was about leaving your home. Your family and your friends. The only people who knew how fucked up all of you were.

“A little.” He looked sympathetically down at you, taking you in his arms.

“None of these things will happen. Dustin will always need you. You’re his sister. He’ll just need you for different stuff, more important to him and you.” He rubbed your back and you hid your face on his neck. You heard him sigh “I wish I could stay there with you all the time…” he whispered. This made you remember another thing you wanted to ask him.

“Um, actually…” you began saying but the door opening interrupted you. Steve took a few steps away from you to greet the costumers. Your body felt cold without his hugging you. You opened your mouth to speak again, but a costumer requested Steve’s assistance.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’ll be right back.” He pecked your cheek and walked towards the costumer.

You didn’t mind. You had two whole weeks to talk to him. To cherish your time together. And to ask a question that you have been preparing for a month now. Something that you hadn’t stopped thinking about ever since your mother had jokingly suggested it. You were preparing yourself to ask him about moving in together…

~~~

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist: @bookscoffeandotherstuff @i-am-the-coffee-queen @bi-andready-tocry @enchantedcruelsummer @daddystevee @elite4cekalyma @hayadora @hannarudick @thecaptainsgingersnap @lookalivesunshine-x @sarasmismyonlydefence @astream-ofconsciousness @the-haikyuu-hoe @mileven-reddie @mochminnie @synonymforlame @teamkiall @samanthadegaro @the-passionate-freak @thesailbells @i-mmunity @marvelouspottering @mrs-diggory @mydarlingharry @beepbeephargrove @mikariell95 @sweetdreamsshifter @paninipress @anolddayslover @10minutesofscreentime @bookfrog242 @onecrazydirectioner @harrycanyonmoonn @grippleback-galaxy @doctorsgirl262 @mayonesavegana

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington series #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #joe keery

80 notes · View notes

nopudgeplease · 1 year

Text

November 26, 2022

Right, so I last wrote on this blog two years ago, in the heart of the pandemic and coincidentally, when my heart decided it had enough of my bullshit and started showcasing the high blood pressure my parents passed down to me.

I’m better, for the most part. The main updates concerning my mental health are 1.) I eat now 2.) I went to therapy, went to antidepressants, went off antidepressants, went back on them, and back off again. Both are positive things that I can attribute to a few factors, but I’m not going to write another cheesy list in this monologue. To sum it up, I moved back to school, aka began living alone, and had to deal with feeding myself, with the added challenge of doing so, but on my own coin. With the help and presence of friends, I’ve been able to somewhat regulate my eating. I bounce between bouts of extreme motivation and eat 3 square meals a day, and back down to 2 larger meals that somehow make me feel better (in terms of my ED) and worse (also, in terms of my ED). (Not sure if that makes sense, but it does to me!)

So, I’m eating now. I’ve fallen deeply into the body neutrality movement. It makes sense, to honor one’s body and to base it’s worth on how it functions rather than how it’s perceived. I can’t lie, though. I still bodycheck in every mirror. I still weigh myself multiple times a week. I still suck in my stomach as far as it’ll hold whenever I lay down, just to see if I can feel my ribs a little better. I weigh heavier than I ever have in my life.

It hurts, hoping and wishing that you’ve made progress, regarding my ED (and ironically, honoring my ED and regarding my body), and knowing you’re different now, but realizing that it all still boils down to the same few tricks that your mind is used to.

There’s honestly not much more that I can say about it, other than my loathing has basically subdued. It’ll never be gone, not unless I somehow get the body I’ve always wanted to be in. But it’s dulled. Whatever thoughts I had in the past are still being have-d, but that’s not to say I haven’t improved.

In other news, I have a partner for the first time in my life. They’re good, really good, in fact, sometimes so good that I don’t understand where all this good is coming from. (I’m not saying that they’re perfect, I’m just saying that they’re different.) (Bonus points if you know where that’s from.) (Never thought I’d be the type of person to write notes to themselves like this but, we are who we are.) (Bonus points if you got that reference.)

Anyways, being in love feels simultaneously like the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the worst. Obviously I’m exaggerating, it’s all mostly good. But now I live in fear that I’ll never be good enough because this other person’s opinion, who just a year ago was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, now means more to me than my own god damn opinion does. Not that their opinion would ever stray from mine, because now those are intertwined as well. The good greatly, greatly outweighs the bad, though. I can’t lie. I’m happy.

And here comes the drama. Drumroll … drrrrrrrrr…. the drama is that I think I’ll never fully heal. It seems like everything is improving, and for the most part, it is and I am grateful. But it’s like a never ending spiral, of hatred towards my body fueling my suicidal tendencies, which then results in me vastly increasing/decreasing my intake of food, which leads to my weight gain/metabolism slowing/weight gain again, and back and forth, and back and forth. I don’t know what to do. I’m able to process information in much healthier ways now, so things like exercising don’t trigger me as much. Atleast, it doesn’t make me feel like I’m doing it to die. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I’m at a stalemate. Everything feels right and good but I still hurt so bad sometimes that I can only imagine something must be out of place.

My thoughts always, always, always boil down to, “I want to be skinny.” And it makes me sick to my stomach, but I don’t think it will ever change for me.

Not sure how to end this on a non-sad note. But I will say this. Every night I get to haul my ass into a warm bed, and even if it’s on the god-awful soft mattress that makes my entire body sink in and makes me sleep so limp that I wake up and can’t sit upright because my waist has been unsupported all night, even if I’m sleeping on the flat, blanket-thin, floppy pillows at my partner’s place that get hot within seconds and do nothing for my neck, even if I step on rabbit shit on my way to the bathroom every night, I get to be held by someone I love, and it feels really nice to be loved, and I am really, really lucky.

Another shout into the void, complete! :)

7 notes · View notes

kayspaceprinceart · 2 years

Text

I’ll Be Good

Aysa’s playlist + some explanations!

1. Teach Your Children - Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

2. All Good Gifts - Godspell Soundtrack

3. Angels Meet Me at the Crossroads - Bobby Horton

4. *God's Promise - Ellis Paul*

5. The World Upside Down - Chumbawamba

6. Healer's Dilemma - Mercedes Lackey

7. Meet Me on the Battlefield - SVRCINA

8. I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young

9. O-o-h Child - The Five Stairsteps

10. You'll Be in my Heart - Phil Collins

11. *Comes and Goes (In Waves) - Greg Laswell*

12. For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti - Sufjan Stevens

13. Metaphor - The Crane Wives

14. Little Lion Man - Mumford and Sons

BONUS

15. **Holding Out for a Hero - Hildegard von Blingen' and Whitney Avalon**

16. **Always - Erasure**

17. **GUY.EXE - Superfruit**

Teach Your Children

This is a good song for Aysa because of his relationship both with his parents, who were very protective of him as a half-elf in their almost entirely human society, as well as his relationships with the younger members of his church and his siblings. He very much has oldest child syndrome, feeling like he has to take care of everyone and teach them the peace he believes in.

Don't you ever ask them why/If they told you would cry/So just look at them and sigh/And know they love you

All Good Gifts

While his family was never very religious, when he was younger Aysa would occasionally see the god Torm in his dreams. This experience made him into a very devoted follower, and the overall vibes of this song suit his general attitude. While Torm, as a god of duty and protection, is not responsible for things like the harvest, Aysa considers him a kind of guide in life, and therefore at least indirectly responsible for the good things in his life.

No gifts have we to offer/For all your love imparts/But that which thou desirest/Our humble thankful hearts

Angels Meet Me at the Crossroads

This one is just mostly because it's an upbeat religious song, good to sing while working (when he's not nursing the injured, he does a lot of handyman work and rebuilding), as well as touching on the fact that Aysa doesn't really consider himself a good person.

Angels meet me at the crossroads/Don't charge a sinner any toll

God's Promise

This one is just basically very literally Aysa's relationship to Torm, from Torm's persepctive. All he asks of his god is guidance and light (both metaphorically and literally in the case of his spells). As the campaign is progressing, this is only becoming more true in that Aysa has started having dreams from Torm again, and their relationship is becoming closer to friends than disciple and master. Still, Aysa desperately wants someone to tell him what to do; he isn't confident in his own choices and is at heart a follower.

All that I promise/Is strength for this day/Rest for my worker/Light on your way/I give you truth when you needed my help from above/My undying friendship my unfailing love

The World Upside Down

Another song that Aysa would actually sing, just his general hope for a better, fairer, world. The setting his game is in has a lot of inequality and problems with racism, which he's had to deal with the lighter end of all his life as a half-elf. Because of this, he's rather naive about it, and believes that by being good enough or kind enough he can change people's minds and the world, which causes friction between him and some members of the party who have suffered much worse.

I dreamt all men were equal/And there were no starving poor/And nations never did quarrel/Nor never went to war

Healer's Dilemma

This one is also a fairly straightforward one about Aysa learning to be a cleric, how to heal, and how to deal with the emotional fallout. While he hates to cause any harm, as he's grown and learned, at this point in his life if a friend begged him to help them pass peacefully, he would. Aysa loves his job, but simultaneously wishes it wasn't needed.

Oh child your healing hands are guided by your healing heart/And that is all the wisdom my learning can impart/You take this pain upon you as you challenge life unknown/And there can be no answer here but one that's your own

Meet Me on the Battlefield

Aysa is fiercely loyal to anyone he feels a duty towards, especially the paladins it's his job in the church to back up and heal. Specifically, this song relates to the inciting incident of the campaign, where Aysa's company is sent to a town to find out what wiped out the previous company. At the time, the carnage was one of the worst things he'd seen, and it quickly became his new nightmare. Still, he treasures his comrades from that time, even and especially Cedric, the lone survivor of the previous company. Aysa also considers himself something of a shield in general, preferring to be between anyone and danger.

Meet me on the battlefield/Even on the darkest night/I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage/And you will be mine

I'll Be Good

This one almost makes the 'practically canon' mini playlist, minus the references to alcohol. Aysa has a LOT of guilt, over the trouble he caused his parents, anyone he couldn't save, and more pointedly his reasons for joining the church (he believes that if he truly were a good person, he would be a worshiper of Ilmater, an ally of Torm and the god of self-sacrifice, as well as still living in his hometown. Instead in his view, he ran away to join the church and seek honor and acclaim to protect his family, and he sees this as a less-than-honorable reason). It also connects back to his more frequent childhood nightmare, men from the guards coming and taking his father away because he had been a bad child, living up to stereotypes about wood elves.

I'll be good, I'll be good/And I'll love the world like I should/I'll be good, I'll be good

O-o-h Child

Look, sometimes Aysa just needs a little hope. Ironically, this could also go at the beginning where his mother is comforting him, or here at the end where he insists on hope for his community.

Some day when your head is much lighter/Some day yeah, we'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun/Some day when the world is much brighter

You'll Be in My Heart

***spoilers for my dnd party!!***

This song is specifically about his relationship to Dresden, another half-elf child adopted by the River family. If Aysa hadn't been called away by the church at the time to a very dangerous mission, he would have likely adopted the boy himself. Aysa loves kids, and was especially close to Dresden. They have not been able to communicate for 2 years at the current point in the game.

My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm/This bond between us can't be broken/I will be here, don't you cry

***end spoilers***

Comes and Goes (In Waves)

This was one of the first songs I ever connected with Aysa. It really captures his gentle, caring side, as well is the origin of his first love (a little orc girl that came through his town with her family. He was too shy to make friends, so instead he taught himself orcish). Basically, Aysa tries to take life in stride and help those around him.

This one's for the lonely, the ones that seek and find/Only to be let down, time after time/This one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall/Come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all

For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti

Another vibes-based one! Not much to say beyond that, but it also connects to his feelings about Cedric- at this point in the campaign, he's all at once Aysa's underling, living proof of someone surviving Aysa's greatest fear (being a lone survivor, the ultimate failure of a protection cleric), and someone his god had charged him to protect. Even before that, Aysa "misled" the church for him. Needless to say, there's very little Aysa wouldn't do for the kid.

If there's anything to say/If there's anything to do/If there's any other way/I'll do anything for you

Metaphor

This one is a reflection on how Aysa has changed, particularly how he feels like he's been telling more half-truths and keeping secrets lately which he understands, but hates. Also again, he finds it hard to state his own opinions on things, often hiding them behind the words of others like church rules or holy books, or just Not Thinking about troubling things.

I've gotten good at leaning on metaphors/I've gotten good at living on someone else's page

Little Lion Man

A classic. Aysa's time in the church (over 15 years now) has taken a toll on him. Especially over the course of living on the island, he's become much more fearful. Along with that, he feels that much of the worsening of the troubles are his fault - he didn't notice his superior was replaced, he didn't have the courage to truly help Cedric, and he is choosing the party over the church.

Weep for yourself, my man you'll never be what is in your heart/Weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start

BONUS SONGS

These are mostly here because Aysa is a Bi Disaster tm, but there is a kind of serious section in Always - when it's cold outside/am I here in vain?/Hold on to the night/there will be no shame about him eventually fully choosing the party over the church and his own internalized guilt and shame.

#not art #ocs #aysa river #oc playlist #writing

3 notes · View notes

enchantestuff · 3 years

Text

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened)

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

#Charles leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc x reader #forumla 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #angst #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #Charles Leclerc smut #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 smut

931 notes · View notes

buckybarnesowl · 2 years

Text

It Never Ends - Chapter 9

Pairing: College!AU Bucky x fem! Reader

Series description: Bucky and Y/n are fourth-year undergrads with the same major. They’ve always had a crush on each other but were too reserved to do anything about it. One horrendous night pushes them together and they’re forced to navigate the fallout, for better or worse.

Chapter summary: Y/n receives the decision, and discovers that affirmation comes in many forms.

A/n: Wow, this chapter was such an experience to write. I hope I did this story justice. My sincere thank you again for all of the support for this series. Love and hugs to each and every one of you.

Chapter 9 word count: 2.5k

Chapter 9 warnings: dealing with trauma, reference to reporting sexual assault, description of sexual assault, survivors coming forward

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The digital clock on the stove read 3:42. Y/n was in her comfiest jogging pants with a hoodie pulled tight over her head. She was leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, his right arm wrapped around her, his prosthesis resting on her lap, both of Y/n’s hands balled up in the sleeves of her sweatshirt and resting on top. Wanda and Sam were curled up next to them on the other side of the couch, while Natasha was on Steve's lap in the big mismatched armchair. They were halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle, Y/n’s comfort film, in an attempt to distract her from the pending decision that was supposed to be emailed to her that afternoon.

She kept rubbing her sweatshirt covered firsts together, glancing between the clock and her laptop screen displaying her inbox. Bucky noticed and stroked her shoulder, pressing a kiss into her temple.

“Need anything, doll?” he whispered in her ear.

Y/n simply shook her head, leaning further into his side.

“It’ll come. Don’t worry. We’re all here for you.”

“I know,” she whispered back, adding a muted “thanks” as she turned to flash him a forced half-smile before looking back at her inbox.

And suddenly there it was.

“Holy shit,” she exclaimed.

Natasha paused the movie. Everyone began sharing glances, lips tight with anticipation.

“Want us to give you some privacy?” Bucky offered softly.

She thought about it for a moment, as if trying to translate the words in her head.

“No. Stay. Please,” she finally responded with as much certainty as she could muster.

“Take your time, hun,” Wanda encouraged. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Y/n nodded appreciatively.

This was it. The moment she’d both anticipated and dreaded. The moment that had commandeered her days with what-if thought spirals and stolen her nights with fitful dreams. The culmination of meetings recounting the vile memory over and over, first spoken then written. Then more meetings to add the incident at the bar. More recounting, more written statements.

It was like standing at the edge of a diving board and suddenly realizing she had a severe fear of heights. Y/n was frozen, unsure if she wanted to lean forward and open the email or run and lock herself in her bedroom and try again tomorrow.

Before her mind could finish deliberating, her body made the decision for her and she double clicked the unread message.

Y/n read the email. Then read it again. And again.

After the third pass, with silent tears streaming down her face, she leaned back into the couch and attempted to steady her breathing.

“So?” Natasha asked the question everyone else was too afraid to voice, unable to read the emption behind her reaction.

“I… you can read it,” Y/n said quietly, motioning her chin towards the open laptop on the coffee table.

Everyone simultaneously took a breath before moving out of their respective seats to hover around the computer.

It only took a few seconds before Wanda sighed, closing her eyes tight.

“Typical,” Natasha stated coldly, unsurprised.

The guys’ reactions were not so calm and collected.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bucky seethed.

“They have to be joking,” Steve scoffed.

“That’s un-fucking-believable,” Sam added.

Y/n chuckled softly, sniffling and wiping her face to grab her bearings.

“It’s not, actually. This is what happens. At least I’ll get to finish next semester in peace,” she sighed.

“But a single semester suspension and only permanent suspension from extracurriculars?!” Bucky exclaimed, the rage seeping out of his words as he took his seat next to Y/n. “So what if they’re banned from interacting with you! They should be expelled!” Bucky’s voice was raised and his cheeks were flushed, the crease between his eyebrows fully showing.

“Don’t yell at me! This is how it fucking works. This is the best I was ever going to get.” A sob stuttered out of her as she tried to deflect Bucky’s shock.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re right. I’m so fucking sorry. I just…” he sighed long and hard before continuing. “I wanted them to pay,” he grimaced, slamming his fist into his thigh.

“We all did, Barnes. But Y/n is right. You guys have no fucking clue,” Natasha lectured. “She’s lucky they even got a punishment at all considering how connected Beck’s family is.”

Y/n and Wanda nodded at their friend’s words.

“But the doctor’s report? Our statements?” Steve asked sheepishly.

“Only meant they couldn’t fully dismiss it,” Wanda replied matter of factly.

“I’m so fucking sorry you all have to experience this shit,” Sam said, voice wavering and defeated as he wrapped his arms around Wanda.

“Y/n, I’m such an ass. I’m so so sorry,” Bucky mumbled, looking at his lap.

“I know, it’s okay,” she replied with warmth, before leaning into him and whispering, “Hug me. Please.”

Bucky’s arms engulfed her in record speed, rocking her slowly. She melted into his embrace, finally feeling the liberty to let go of every emotion she had buried all these weeks. Her sobs started soft, but quickly morphed into drawn out moans, shoulders heaving at the weight of the release. It was cathartic and necessary, like a spring thaw that floods riverbeds and clears away a season of accumulated debris. The friends took their cue, each couple breaking off into Wanda and Natasha’s respective bedrooms.

It took an hour before Bucky finally felt Y/n’s breathing even out.

“Doll? I hate to let go but my shoulder is cramping up.”

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, releasing herself from the refuge of his arms. “You should have said something. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, I didn’t want to let go. Just sometimes the prosthetic digs in the wrong way at certain angles. ‘S fine, really,” he assured her.

Her eyes filled with remorse as she leaned forward to massage his shoulder.

“Mmmm,” his eyes fluttered closed at the comfort before quickly reopening, “sweetheart, you don’t have to.”

“Let me, please. You’ve done so much for me.”

“‘S nothing,” he retorted, though leaning into her touch at her request.

She froze and placed both hands on his cheeks. “James Buchanan Barnes, the amount of support you’ve given me over these weeks has been everything. I don’t have the words to begin to describe what it’s meant to me. I love you, so much, and I will forever be grateful for you.”

She pressed her lips, soft and slow, hoping the gesture would sing all the words she couldn’t seem to find.

Bucky nodded, reluctantly breaking the kiss before the heat took over.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he hummed, breath wavering from the intensity of their embrace.

Y/n’s face burned. She looked away in embarrassment, but Bucky brought a finger up to turn her chin back to face him.

“I mean it, doll. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Your kindness and humour fill me with a joy that I didn’t even know existed and I’m just lucky to have the opportunity to witness it. I love you too. So fucking much.”

He returned her kiss, heavy but controlled, with a tenderness that was so characteristically Bucky.

“You're a really good kisser, you know that?” Y/n complemented, leaning her head on his chest as Bucky tilted them both into a more vertical position on the couch.

“Glad you think so, sweetheart,” he returned with a chuckle, rubbing her back.

“Thanks for being here,” she said softly after a few moments of melting into his comforting ministrations.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” his voice rumbled in his chest warmly.

Her relief was palpable, and while Bucky was still filled with contempt for the final decision, he would follow Y/n’s lead. He realized at that moment that he would follow her anywhere. A smile crept across his face and he pressed his lips into the top of her head.

****

After digesting the news, the three couples had rejoined to finish the movie and order pizza. Though not long after, everyone went to bed early—drained from the emotional roller coaster of the day compounded by the burnout from finals week.

After being asleep for several hours, as moonlight flooded her bedroom floor, Y/n awoke with a purpose sometime after midnight. She wasn’t not sure where the idea sprouted from, but as soon as opened her eyes she knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep until she had completed it.

Slinking stealthily from under Bucky’s arm that was wrapped around her waist, she crept out of the room. Plopping herself down on the couch, she opened her phone and found the Untold Instagram account for her college and began to type her message.

My name is Jane Doe and I was drugged by Quentin Beck and Brock Rumlow at a party. I know I’m not the only one they’ve harmed. This is just my story. They were waiting for me in a room when I stumbled in trying to find the washroom. They tied my hands and ankles before laying me down on a bed. I couldn’t scream or yell. I couldn’t fight back. I found out from the drug test I took the next day that they gave me ketamine. It was still present in my system 12 hours later. Quentin was kissing me and touching my chest while Brock tried to undo my jeans. I must have reacted poorly to the drugs because the only reason I wasn’t raped was that I vomited on Quentin before he could go any further. When he found out I was going to report him, Quentin threatened me physically. The result of his report is one semester suspension. It never ends. Rapists walk away free while victims have to survive. I am a survivor. To all my fellow survivors, I see you. I believe you.

Clicking the send paper airplane icon, she closed the app, then her phone, and made her way back to bed.

Bucky stirred as she gently pulled the covers over her shoulders.

“Mmm, doll? You okay?” he mumbled, worry etched across his tired face as he blinked in confusion.

“I am now,” she replied softly, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Mmm glad,” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around her again, already drifting off again.

Y/n snuggled into his chest, quickly following him into a dreamless sleep.

****

“Y/n! Bucky! Oh my god, wake up!” Natasha’s instructions booming through the door as her fist knocked hard. “You both need to get dressed and come with us. Now.”

“What the…” Bucky trailed off with confusion, startled from sleep.

Y/n yawned, shrugging at her friend’s frantic excitement. But she obliged and forced herself up.

“What’s going on, Nat?” Y/n asked, rubbing her eyes as she and Bucky exited her room once they were both dressed.

“I can’t explain it. You just need to come see.”

Wanda nodded at her friend’s raised eyebrows, a smile plastered across her face.

“They’re right,” Sam responded to Bucky’s equally bewildered demeanor when he looked to his friends for help.

The six of them promtply left the dorm together, the cold December air waking them with more efficiency than a shot of espresso.

“Where are we going that there wasn’t time for me to even have my morning coffee,” Y/n whined, grumpily.

“You’ll see,” Natasha chimed.

In less than ten minutes, the group arrived in front of the main entrance to the Faculty of Arts building. The faculty that Y/n, Bucky, Quentin, and Brock were all enrolled in.

The sky was the kind of clear blue that whispers winter is on its way. The sun was just over the height of the stone building, casting criss-crossed shadows through the bare trees that lined the walkway leading to the entrance steps.

The steps that were covered in banners, letters, flowers, candles. Signs that read, We believe Jane Doe. Survivors, we believe you. We see you.

There was already a crowd. Some placing more items amongst the growing collection of offerings. Others were chatting and hugging.

Y/n’s cheeks were wet. Her breath hitched silently, continuous and shaking through her chest. She lowered herself down onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning the messages and tokens of support.

Following her lead, Natasha and Wanda sat on either side of her and wrapped their arms around their crying friend. The boys followed suit, sitting on either side of the redheads, Bucky settling down behind Y/n, gently resting his hand on her back so she knew he was there.

Within fifteen minutes there were over thirty people sitting around them. After an hour there must have been more than a hundred. Bucky sent out a text, instructing the entire swim team to come show their support. It wasn’t long before each and every member was there, bearing blankets and hot beverages to warm up the group.

By the ninety minute mark, there were too many to count, all sitting in support of Jane Doe. Of every single survivor.

A soft breeze rattled the few remaining leaves on the otherwise empty trees. Something shifted and Y/n suddenly rose to her feet.

“I’m here because I’m a survivor,” her voice rang out over the hushed crowd. “If you’re a survivor and you feel safe to do so, I invite you to stand with me. I want people to see how many of us there are. I want you to see you’re not alone.”

The crowd held a collective breath as one by one, people started standing. Natasha. Wanda. And so many others. Slowly each person rose, and within a minute nearly two thirds of the crowd was standing.

After a moment of silence, someone shouted, “Survivors, we see you, we believe you.” The rest of those that were sitting joined in, repeating the words, over and over.

It was spontaneous and beautiful and heartbreaking, an overwhelming tangle of emotions that moved many of the impromptu sit-in attendees to tears. Including Bucky.

After scanning the crowd and taking in the weight of the demonstration, his eyes fell on Y/n’s standing form and he couldn’t look away. Nor did he want to. His heart that had broken so many times throughout this ordeal, for the pain she had suffered, endured, persevered through. It was now bursting with love for her strength, her courage, her tenacity. He was in awe and that’s when he knew—if she’d let him, he would happily spend the rest of his life trying to show Y/n what he saw in her.

The sun rose higher. Wind ruffled the banners on the steps and the hair of those still standing amongst the gathering. Sparrows chirped in the shrubs against the building. Another day was unfolding as late autumn prepared to welcome in winter before a new year arrived.

As if feeling the air change, Y/n turned to look down at Bucky. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, but a smile took residence on her lips when she saw his adoring blue eyes staring back up at her. Those eyes that she could now admit she had fallen for years ago. The ones that told her she could do anything. That she was safe. That she was home.

Epilogue

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #hurt/comfort #caretaker bucky #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #avengers au #mcu au #college bucky #sam wilson #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #it never ends series

192 notes · View notes

ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

Note

For the AU-Jon wakes up from his coma before Martin accepts Peter's offer?

1. Oliver Banks comes sooner. No one knows why it happens this way, but this is the way it happens, and it mostly goes the same. Georgie shows up, Oliver leaves, and Jon starts to breathe again. It all just happens earlier.

Basira doesn’t tell Martin right away, when Georgie shows up. He’s taken this whole thing so hard, and it might be nothing, it might be nothing at all. She resolves to call him as soon as they have more details—when she has a hold on the whole situation.

2. This happens only two days after Peter has made his offer. He gave Martin a few days to “think it over,” and Martin still hasn’t come to a clear decision. (He thinks that the decision should be obvious—should be—but he isn’t that brave, and he’s never been the hero, and the decision seems impossibly stupid at times, and what if—what if Jon wakes up?)

Peter’s offer is still sitting like a stone in his mind, and he’s halfway considering visiting Jon, for some grasp at clarity—or maybe an attempt to say goodbye—when Basira texts, tells him to come to the hospital. She doesn’t offer many more details besides that, and Martin is out of the Institute and in a cab before there is even time to consider what this might mean. He halfway wants to call Basira up and press for information. The thing that sticks in his mind—the thing he thinks it must be—is that Jon is dead. Jon has finally died, and Basira’s called him there to say goodbye—and that just makes him want to press Basira even more, to demand answers, because what if he’s heading to the hospital with even a glimmer of hope and it turns out to be the exact opposite…

(Or what if—what if he’s awake? What if he’s alive?)

Martin doesn’t let himself hope. Doesn’t know how to. He keeps going over the possibilities—He’s probably dead, or worse—keeps reapproaching Peter’s plan—If Jon’s dead, I’ll have to take it, it’s the least I can do for the others, what will I have keeping me here then… He goes straight to the hospital, and up to Jon’s floor—the nurses know him, and wave him on through—down the halls to Jon’s familiar room, to Jon’s door, all the while bracing himself for bad news.

3. Basira is waiting by the door, and she looks up when Martin comes down the hall. “What’s happened?” Martin snaps, immediately. “What’s going on? Is he—” His throat closes at the prospect of finishing that sentence; he can’t do it, can’t say it…

Basira’s expression is closed off enough that Martin can’t read it, can’t tell if it’s bad news. But then she says, “He’s awake,” and the force of it is like a gut punch, nearly bending Martin in half. His hand immediately shoots for the door, and Basira puts an arm out as if to stop him. “Martin. It isn’t what you think.”

“What is it, then?” Martin snaps, and he yanks the door open, the word pushing out of his mouth entirely of his own accord—”Jon…”

Jon is awake. Jon is sitting up in bed, with a crumpled statement in his lap, and a tape recorder running on the side table, and Martin can’t breathe. Jon looks almost exactly the same as he has for months now, except that he’s awake and alive and looking at Martin. “Martin?” he says—a lot of emotions crammed into this one word—and Martin doesn’t know what to say, can’t get past the reality of Jon actually saying his name.

“Martin, you’re… here,” Jon says, quietly, the statement crumpling in his hand. “I-I didn’t know if… you’re all right?”

Martin starts to cross the room slowly, to the chair he’s more or less grown accustomed to sitting in when he’s visited. He hasn’t said anything yet—hasn’t found the words—and Jon is still talking. “I wasn’t sure if… y-your plan, Elias, Basira hasn’t… hasn’t filled me in, and I… you’re all right? You aren’t hurt, are you? Martin?”

Martin shakes his head numbly as he sits. Looks down at the bed and almost reaches for Jon’s hand—a long running habit, this isn’t his first visit, they’ve become as routine as anything—but he stops himself. He doesn’t know if Jon would want that. Maybe Jon never would have wanted that.

“You, er,” Jon begins, stops. He takes a slow breath, and his voice sounds remarkably well put-together, even after months of disuse. “It’s, uh. It’s good to see you here, Martin.”

Martin chokes a little. “Jon?” he says—he isn’t sure he has the words for anything else—and he looks up, and Jon is looking back at him—something unreadable in his eyes, something almost like affection, maybe—and one of them, or maybe both of them, move before Martin even knows what is happening. Martin jerks forward, and so does Jon, and then they’re embracing, leaning over the bed, Jon’s fingers digging into Martin’s shoulders, Jon’s heart thudding in his chest—Martin can feel it now. And he doesn’t bother to stop himself from crying anymore. He just holds onto Jon—Jon, awake, Jon, alive, Jon's head on his shoulder—and keeps telling himself, over and over again, that it’s all okay, it can all be okay now.

4. Jon ends up staying with Martin. It makes sense—Jon doesn’t have a flat, and neither do the others—Basira and Melanie have been living in the Archives, and Georgie hasn’t said anything to either of them since the hospital (Martin has still never met her). But Martin still has a flat. And Jon deserves better than a cot, after months of hospital beds, so Martin offers to let him stay, and Jon agrees.

The marvel of it is too much—after months of quiet in the Archives, months of growing apart from Melanie and Basira, months of isolation and feeling lost, months of Jon being asleep… the reality of Jon standing in his kitchen, Jon drinking tea at his dining room table, is genuinely overwhelming. There’s a dozen things Martin wants to say without knowing if he should, a dozen things he wants to explain. Basira filled him in on most of the important things, but they haven’t gotten a chance to talk about any of them, and there’s even more things Martin wants to say, if he knew how to say them. He wants to talk to Jon about how much he’s missed Tim—how much of his mind has been stuck in the reality of that first year, when Tim was alive and Sasha was alive, and aside from Jon sort of hating him, everything mostly being all right. He wants to tell Jon about how much he’s missed him, when he was asleep—wants to say all the things he’s been able to say to Elias and a goddamn tape recorder, but not to Jon himself. He wants to tell Jon about his mum. He wants to tell Jon he visited every single week, sometimes two or three times. He wants to talk about how horrible this all has been, and what they do next, how they move on from this, because he genuinely does not know. He wants to talk about all of it.

He wants to tell Jon about Peter’s offer, and he wants Jon to tell him not to take it. Because a part of him still thinks he needs to take it. He thinks about Peter’s warnings, and his promises to keep them all safe. And yes, Jon is awake now, but shouldn’t that be even more reason to take it? To keep Jon safe, too, now that he’s awake and can be put in danger? And there’s still the others, in the same danger they would’ve been before, and they deserve to be safe, too—and Martin isn’t the hero by a long shot, but he wants to be, wants to do something more to make a difference besides lighting some fires while Tim and Jon went off to die. He wants to make the noble decision, even if it will be a thousand times harder with Jon here in front of him. But he also wants Jon to talk him out of it.

Martin doesn’t say any of this to Jon, because he can’t. Not with everything Jon’s been through—in a coma for months, how selfish can Martin be? He makes tea, and he sits at the kitchen table with Jon, and he answers Jon’s questions about what he’s missed, and he tries not to think about Peter’s offer. The urgency in his voice that was probably a lie. He keeps getting paranoid that Peter will see him sitting here with Jon (Peter is not Elias), and that Peter will insist that he can’t be doing this, that he’s breaking their agreement (except Martin never agreed), and then try to tell Martin that the deal is forfeit now, and it’s too late. And it’s absurd, because Martin doesn’t want to take the deal—except he’s scared about what not taking it might mean. Scared about how this will all end, scared that if he doesn’t take the deal that something will happen—and what if Jon (or Melanie, or Basira) die and it’s because of him, because he turned down this chance? Except that he was only going to take it because Jon wasn’t ever going to wake up, and now he’s here, and how can Martin leave now, after everything?

There is simultaneously too much and not enough to talk about, and Jon doesn’t seem to know how to initiate it either, so they talk about nothing. They end up on the couch, flipping through the television channels, and Jon asks some lighthearted questions about what he’s missed on TV shows Martin didn’t even know he watched. It’s easy enough to make that kind of small talk, over other kinds, and it’s enough to get them both laughing a little. They stay on the couch for a long time. (Martin halfway expects Jon to be tired, to need to get more sleep—and halfway decides to leave a couple of times, an attempt to give Jon space, before deciding in the other direction—but Jon never mentions needing sleep, and Martin guesses if he was sleeping for months on end, he probably wouldn’t be tired, either. So he stays on the couch with Jon.)

At some point, they do start talking: about Tim, about the missing months, about how hard everything has been. Martin doesn’t bring up the thing with Peter, not yet, but he talks about all the rest. (The tremor in Jon’s voice when he tells Martin he’s sorry about his mother is almost too much to take. There’s still a lot Martin hasn’t talked about yet.) Martin tries to find the balance—he doesn’t want to put too much onto Jon, with everything Jon’s been through, he can’t do that—but he’s honest, too. He says, I… I missed you, Jon. We all did—but I… He says, It’s been… bad. Hard. While you’ve been gone, and he tries not to think about how often Jon was gone, before the Unknowing; how far Jon pulled away after Prentiss. They had time—limited time—between America and the Unknowing, but then Jon was asleep, and now—if Martin takes Peter’s deal; if Jon has to leave again…

Jon takes a sharp breath. The room is dark, and Martin isn’t looking at him, but he feels it when Jon, tentatively, takes his hand. (Like a dozen nights in his hospital room except Jon’s awake and his hand is warm, his pulse beating against Martin’s thumb, and Jon initiated it, and it’s all okay now.) “Well,” says Jon, uncertain and reassuring all at once, somehow. “I’m… I’m here now. And I don’t know how much help I’ll really be, with… everything. But Martin, I promise… I-I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”

5. And Martin decides, in that moment, and in the moments after, and in the email he writes out the next morning, in frank, firm language. He decides then. Jon is back, and there has to be another way out, a way that they can figure it out together. So Martin doesn’t take Peter’s deal.

(send me an au and i'll give you 5+ headcanons)

#i sort of hate this but!! here it is #tma au #tma fic #i wrote this

395 notes · View notes

servicetopkaradanvers · 3 years

Note

I'm not sure if this is exactly the right place to say this, but I don't know if there is. And you're a smart person and critical thinker who has talked about this before. If this is totally weird, you can just delete it ofc. I've never properly watched Supergirl but I started reading fanfic around the time my mental health got real bad so it was a comfort thing I didn't bring too much thought to. I really identify with Lena and in the past, part of me has understood her actions-

and I know that they're wrong. The anti-alien rhetoric is obviously an allegory for racism or homophobia. She's violated people's basic human rights. And I'm scared that I'm a bad person because sometimes, I kind of get it. Which is insane because i'm a lesbian enby of color, i mean i get targeted by most of the -ist/ism actions. And I'm also too tired to think about things critically all the time. Supercorp was my comfort fic, content thing-

I knew it was problematic (the whole James thing makes me sick to my stomach, scared and sad) but I didn't know that Lena as a character was written that way. The metaphors never really clicked in my head because I never thought about it, but now I feel absolutely horrible about myself because I like and identify with Lena. I'm not really sure how to move on from here- I'm just tired. I wish there could be just one thing, one piece of media that wasn't prejudiced (granted sg is not the place to go if you want decent rep and the like) and all of those things I said earlier. Its just me somehow trying to justify how I felt and empathized with something I shouldn't have. So yeah, sorry that was really long. I hope you have a lovely day- sorry for the spam

FIRST of all, you’re fine, babe! Both in sending me this and in enjoying The Bad Media. That’s my thesis here: You’re fine. With this in mind, let’s unpack this big ol suitcase:

We’re living in a fandom moment where more than ever before, we’re thinking about the ideas we consume in fiction and how they may or may not affect us. This is a net positive! Fiction is not reality, but it undeniably impacts it, so for this and many other reasons, we should always think critically about what resonates with us and why. Does this mean dissecting every facet of something to find all the ways it might fall in line with oppressive power structures? Absolutely not.

You, as an individual, do not owe anyone an explanation for why you enjoy anything. Period. How you relate to a given character or why you like them is nobody's business but your own.

Supergirl, as a piece of media, is singularly awful in its lackluster lipservice to progressivism while simultaneously refusing to deliver any progressive themes. Socially and politically, it is a useless liberal wet dream. Kara is an immigrant from a dead culture working as the muscle for a secret FBI offshoot with zero accountability for all of the other aliens in diaspora she has rounded up and dumped into a cell without trial. Alex is allegedly a lesbian, but the key points of her endgame relationship are constantly deemed not important enough to get screen time, which is made even more absurd when examined from the angle that this series is marketed directly toward LGBT people. An embarrassing percentage of villains on this show are women of color, which is particularly loud when there are only 2 women in the main cast who aren't white. And "main" is extremely generous, given that Kelly is just there to Give Advice Good and everything M'gann says and does is as dry as toast.

My point here is that the whole show is rotted to its roots, and whatever quietly libertarian or even fascism-enabling bullshit they push onto Lena in a given week is par for the crusty, shitty course. Kara deciding that she's ok with the alien detection device because "there are bad aliens" is a lovely (read: awful) microcosm of why this show sucks so fucking hard. "People are entitled to their opinions" is for debates on whether pineapple goes on pizza, not for whether we should casually out, endanger, and disenfranchise our [insert minority metaphor here] because some of them are mean.

But what I would love for this fandom to wrap its head around, and what I hope you understand, anon, is that just because it happens on the show, doesn't mean we have to give a rat's ass about it. What the hell is The Canon, anyway? Especially in the case for Supergirl, which can't even get its own continuity right. Especially for an IP that has been rebooted dozens of times before and will be rebooted again in the future. We can just decide that Lena realized the horrible injustices she enabled through her position of power. We can even decide that they just didn't happen at all! This is all fake. It's not set in stone. Who came up with it, anyway? A network with a list of buzzwords they want included and a couple of D-tier showrunners cranking down caffeine to meet an absurdly tight deadline. It's not special. I can guarantee that you care about it infinitely more than they do, and you haven't even watched the damn show.

On a more personal level, people who are hurt, depressed, or traumatized have always and will always look for themselves in fiction. Myself included! And despite what lofty platitudes there may be on the matter, suffering does not make us kind. It does not make us better. Sometimes it's just suffering. Often it pulls us further from who we are meant to be. Often it just makes us "worse."

Trauma has made Lena emotionally brittle. A lifetime of manipulation and abuse has taught her to compartmentalize herself and lock her feelings behind a maze of doors. When she does let love in, she accepts it so wild and vulnerable that she can't see the red flags behind the rosy lenses. She latches so hard onto people she deems virtuous that she holds them to a standard none could fulfill. Her pain has to go somewhere, so it oozes out of her, into Non Nocere, into the post-reveal rift. She's a powder keg, and Kara spent 4 years shoveling more gunpowder onto the pile while holding the match between her teeth.

And despite these fatal flaws that make perfect sense through the eyes of Lena's trauma, she is so full of love. Like Kara, her suffering did not make her kind. She is kind in spite of her suffering. These are the characters we are drawn to when we're hurting. Lena’s trauma is an inextricable part of her, but it is not all of her, and neither are her mistakes.

There truly is not and never will be a piece of media that is absolutely innocent of the harmful structures thrust upon us by society, because we ourselves also participate in that society whether we are critical of it or not, whether we strive to change it or not. I'm flawed. You're flawed. Bettering ourselves is not a journey toward an ultimate destination of perfection. It is a garden we nurture in an endless labor of love because the joy that comes from seeing it flourish and change vastly outweighs the work we put into it and the weeds popping up around its unkempt edges. This is a lesson Lena herself could probably stand to internalize. Probably with lots and lots of therapy. Lots. And lots.

So, to circle back to the start of this? You're fine. You recognized the logic in a traumatized character's mistakes because our own gravest errors more often than not stem from the ways we have been harmed in the past. It's what makes Lena (or, at the very least, the many adaptations of Lena that exist in this fandom) a good character. She is, to her core, characterized proof that a crumbling foundation and poisonous soil do not define us. Which is why watching her heal and grow and learn a healthier kind of love is so, so wonderful.

In closing, I think it's worth mentioning that being critical of media does not mean that we stop enjoying the parts of it we like. There is a lot of gold to be pulled from the steaming pile of shit that is CW Supergirl, and that's why we're all here in the first place. So I really hope you can continue to enjoy it in whatever way makes you smile <3

#Anonymous #lena

195 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 3 years

Note

I saw the ask about having the person feeling like that the Loki show is objectively bad. I liked the show, here is why.

I love Loki, and I love the MCU, but I don’t go into any of it expecting consistency. Tony and Loki are my favourite.

Tony goes through character development in his own movies, IM3 especially that main canon just kinda ignores. So I didn’t go into work he Loki show expecting them to get him consistent or right. I just went in prepared to enjoy the show for what it is in isolation. I also know that no one looks at the stories they write for the MCU critically, so I try and turn off that for a first time watch.

I really like the show, that doesn’t mean I think they made it consistent or in character for Loki. I get why people don’t like it.

I really like the TVA and all the concepts it introduced. I really liked seeing Tom acting his heart out. And I really like Loki/Sylvie because I find something very compelling about a character who hates themselves, meeting another version of themselves and being able to love them. It is not a ship I’m going to write fic about but I like them within the show.

Basically what I am saying is that I go into MCU media with the expectation they will mess up at least one character or plot point badly every time. I like the media for what it is, and I appreciate whatever it brings to the table that I can then cannibalise into da works.

Yeah that's fair. Everyone has a right to their own opinion. Fandom is better when there are a diversity of opinions and we can all respect each other and engage in open and good faith discussion rather than attacking people for having the "wrong" views or trying to harass them out of fandom.

For me personally I feel like the show fails on 3 fronts.

1) To me it fails as a Loki show. I really enjoy Loki as a character and I wanted a show about him. And I didn't personally see him in the show at all. I saw a completely different character who does not behave, speak, act, respond, react, stand, emote, or make choices like Loki does. He doesn't even LOOK like Loki because they did his hair and makeup wrong. And that's really what I wanted. I didn't want Larry (as I call the show character). I wanted Loki. That was what was advertised and to me he was so ooc that he was unrecognizable. If I just saw a clip out of context and didn't know what it was from I would have assumed I was seeing Tom in a totally different role.

Thor Ragnarok felt like a different take on Loki that definitely retconned some of his personality and history, but still felt like an alternate interpretation of the same character in the sense that I could recognize the character as Loki (albeit a different version of him); some people liked that, other didn't. But here it wasn't that. It just felt like a completely new (and to me far less interesting and compelling) character. And beyond that it felt like the show went out of its way to make a mockery of the character played by Tom and by extension anyone who ever cared about Loki's character. Like it felt like a mean spirited caricatured parody. Loki is also extremely sidelined in what is supposed to be his own show. And it most certainly didn't feel like a show about Loki, which is what I wanted. So for me the show didn't provide what I was looking for.

2) To me it also fails on its own merits. If I view it in isolation without comparing it to previous canon and just view it as its own thing it also fails. The quality of the dialogue felt very poor. None of the humor made me laugh and it all felt very juvenile and forced. The plotting and characterization seemed nonsensical and all over the place. Like Sylvie sets off those charges and the episode ends on a cliffhanger with that but then it's never addressed later.

The reason that Loki and Syvie allegedly falling in love breaks the timeline didn't really make sense. Sylvie is going around murdering timekeepers and yet Mobius somehow immediately like and trusts her and says he prefers her to Loki. Loki and Sylvie are simultaneously presented as the same person and also totally different people. Loki allegedly learns self love but we never see that - we see him call himself degrading things like pathetic. And we see him think that Sylvie is better than him. That doesn't seem like self love. The romance feels extremely rushed and unrealistic and awkward and we aren't given a compelling reason for why they are in love or what they even have in common. Sylvie doesn't really have much of a character. Mobius and Loki don't interact much and Mobius consistently mistreats him but Loki somehow thinks of him as a friend. Mobius is portrayed as a good guy for cheerfully carrying out the TVA's ends but Kang is a villain for creating the TVA. The TVA seems to be all made up of humans even though it's in charge of all reality.

If Loki did bad things, then the TVA did worse things and thus are not moral authorities. If the TVA’s actions are acceptable then so are Loki’s. If Loki was wrong to violently impose his will on a planet (let’s forget about the context with Thanos for a minute) then the TVA is wrong to violently impose its will on all of reality in order to eliminate free will. If Loki was wrong to kill a few people, then the TVA was certainly wrong to kill trillions. And thus neither Mobius nor the TVA are moral authorities when it comes to Loki because they are infinitely worse. If the actions that Mobius and the TVA took are acceptable, then there is no reason to criticize Loki because he did far less than them. Etc etc etc.

The cinematography is also very poor and unprofessional and the costumes look extremely cheap and unprofessional. The whole story feels confused and disjointed. The directing is bad because the actors are all very capable but the performances often feel wooden and forced and fake. And the pacing is terrible. A lot of it drags and then plot twists come out of nowhere with no setup so it just makes them feel jarring rather than earned or entertaining.

3) To me it also fails on a moral front. The show contains a lot of problematic depictions and messages and promotes messages that are offensive or even downright harmful.

Mobius gleefully subjects Loki to physical torture by leaving him to be repeatedly beaten in the genital area. This is a very clearcut and straight forward example of physical torture. And Mobius feels no compassion for Loki or remorse over what he has done to him. If anything he seems to find it amusing. And certainly the audience is supposed to find it amusing (which is gross and harmful messaging on Disney’s part). He also subjects Loki to psychological torture. This is a fact. There are multiple instances in the show where the TVA and Mobius subject Loki to treatment that would meet the legal definition of torture under both US law and international law. Furthermore, Mobius and the TVA are holding Loki against his will and forcing him to labor without compensation or any hope of release because they view him as belonging to a group of people (Variants) that they view as inferior and not really people. That’s a pretty textbook case of slavery. So objectively Mobius is Loki’s jailer, torturer, captor, and enslaver. And yet Mobius is presented as justified in what he does to Loki. The writer and director have even called it therapy. And a result many people have parroted this which is very harmful.

The queer “representation” feels straight out of bigoted propaganda. Loki’s personality traits have been retconned to map onto harmful stereotypes about queer men. He is overly expressive, makes grand gestures, is flamboyant, cowardly, dishonest, weak, bad at fighting, lazy, spineless, meek, unused to exercise etc. Now a person could be all these things and also happen to be queer. However, Loki was never like this before. His character was retconned to be this way only in this series where he is confirmed to be queer.

Furthermore, the entire premise of the series seems to be that it is funny and entertaining and justified when Loki is dehumanized, mocked, humiliated, hurt, tortured, beaten, assaulted, and/or robbed of his dignity. That’s the premise. That’s the whole show.

In addition to pro torture and pro authoritarianism and pro victim blaming messaging the show also has problematic depictions of black characters (see here and here), Asian people (see here) and also has a lot of fludphobia and transphobia issues. And much more.

@nikkoliferous has put together a great compendium here of various posts explaining the various issues with the show if you're curious about why some people disliked it.

#asks #loki tv series #loki series #loki 2021 #loki show #loki tv show #Marvel #MCU

79 notes · View notes

pain-in-the-butler · 3 years

Text

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji hunger games simulator

79 notes · View notes

k2padfoot · 3 years

Text

Watching You

Draco x Y/n

Summary: You get mad at Draco and find yourself in a bad situation

Warnings: Alcohol, angst, Cormac being gross, fluff.

You & Draco had been together for a little over a year now and things were amazing to say the least. He treated you like the princess you truly were. He showered you with expensive gifts even when you told him it was too much, he made sure to walk you to every class, he held you close when you were stressed out or upset, he took care of you when you were sick, there really wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you.

Draco was head over heels for you and you knew that. Yet you still had trouble with accepting the fact Pansy Parkinson would never stop pining over him. For years now she’s been obsessed and Draco’s shot her down plenty of times. You thought your relationship would cause her to back off, but it only got worse. She was constantly trying to prove she could be better than you, which in Draco’s eyes was impossible.

You and your roommate Daphne were making your way to the quidditch field to watch Slytherin’s 2nd match against Gryffindor. The two of you were conversing about Slughorn’s latest assignment when you heard Pansy’s god awful voice.

“Oh Drakey, you’re going to do amazing in todays game against Gryffindor I just know it!” Pansy said in a giddy tone while running her hand up Draco’s arm.

“Thanks Pansy.” Draco replied while giving her a look that basically said to go away but that didn’t stop her.

“Potter has nothing on you. I mean look at you, you’re so fit and you’re so good at everything you do.” she said while batting her eyelashes at him and gripping his bicep. That’s when you had enough and you stormed off walking back up to the school not sticking around to watch the match. Why the hell was Draco letting this happen? you thought to yourself. Little did you know he had a select choice of words for Pansy after you left.

You were sulking in your dorm when the match had ended. You didn’t care to come out of your room and congratulate the team. Daphne had just busted through the door in search for you, “Y/n! There you are, we won!! And before you say anything I know your upset but I am going to drag you to the common room party whether you like it or not!” she said while making her way over to you.

“Daph, ugh. I’m just so annoyed with Draco right now I don’t know if I wanna see him.” you replied to her while she gave you a sad smile.

She leant down in front of you, “Y/n, that’s the whole reason we need to go. Let’s get you up, get dressed all pretty and make Draco all flustered over you, yeah?” she said while pulling you to get up, you let out a sigh and nodded.

You put on an emerald green & black checkered high waisted skirt and a black sweater crop top to pair with. You clipped your silver necklace with your initial on it around your neck, slipped on your rings, and put on black booties to tie it all together. You looked in the mirror, fixed your hair a little bit and were satisfied with your look. “You look so hot y/n, now let’s go!” Daphne said while dragging you away from the mirror and into the common room.

The lights were dim, music was blaring, the smell of alcohol was prominent in the air, and students were all over the Slytherin common room. Daphne and yourself headed over to the drink table to start your night. Theo and Blaise were already handing the two of you fire whiskey shots, and you both downed them ready for another.

The four of you had been standing by the table for a couple minutes now conversing and taking shots when you started to feel the alcohol rush to your head. You spotted your boyfriend across the room looking as good as ever in his dark black suit. The alcohol was making you feel confident and you got the sudden urge to make him jealous. You leaned over to Daphne and whispered in her ear to dance with you.

The two of you were standing in between other students swaying to the music and giggling while tripping over each other’s feet. Draco’s eyes have been locked on you the entire time, he knew you were upset with him and he knew to let you cool off a bit before saying anything. So he kept his distance all while keeping a close eye on you. That’s when he noticed the disgusting look on Cormac McLaggens face as he watched you sway your hips.

You were starting to feel extremely hot and a little bit dizzy so you told Daphne you were going to slip out into the hallway quick for some air. You had no idea as you were heading out Cormac got the idea to follow you.

The air in the halls was ten times cooler than in the sweaty booming common room. You decided to walk down the hall a bit and lean against a large pillar in front of a window. You were gazing into the night sky catching your breath when arms wrapped around you from behind. You rolled your eyes thinking it was Draco to turn around and be met with Cormac’s dark eyes.

You could smell the alcohol coming off his breath as he pushed you back into the wall, “What the hell are you doing McLaggen?” you questioned him trying to push him away.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t want it sweetheart.” Cormac said while pushing his left shoulder into your chest. Your right arm was pinned against his torso, and you were trying to push him away with your left.

“Stop, come on don’t!” you cried, as his hand started to slide up your right thigh and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Draco doesn’t have to know don’t worry.” he said breath hot against your skin making you cringe.

Draco had only taken his eyes off of you for a minute to get another drink. When he walked back to his seat he realized you were gone, and that’s when he noticed Cormac gone too.

“Get off Cormac, i’m serious!” You yelled one more time trying to plead with him. As you said that Draco came busting out of the common room coming your way fast.

“Get your filthy hands off her! Stupefy!” He yelled raising his wand and shooting the spell at Cormac sending him flying to the end of the hall.

He stood up abruptly trying to brush himself off and started to speak “Malfoy its not what it looks li- But Draco cut him off, “Get the bloody hell out of here before I use my fist instead of my wand!” he yelled to McLaggen causing him to book it back to the dorms.

Draco spun around fast to be met with you sitting on the ground back against the wall, a blank stare on your face as tears rolled down your redden cheeks. He knelt down in front of you grabbing your hands in his own. “Hey, hey love, it’s alright. You’re okay now I promise.” Draco said delicately brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Dray.. I’m sorry!” You cried dropping your head low.

He quickly wrapped you in his arms, “No.. no Y/n don’t be sorry. I’m sorry! I had been watching you all night I swear I had my eyes on you the whole time and next thing I knew you were gone. You have no idea how I felt seeing you out here in that position. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight..”

You looked up into his eyes, “Don’t be, I shouldn’t have been ignoring you. It was stupid, I was jealous and I decided to get stupid drunk in spite. It was my fault.” you said tears filling your eyes again thinking about what just happened a few minutes ago.

Draco grabbed your face to meet his stormy eyes, “Don’t you ever say something like that is your fault. No matter the situation you did nothing wrong y/n, absolutely nothing. And I hope you know when you left the match earlier today I told Pansy off. I told her she’d never compare to you, I told her I wouldn’t give her the time of day because I have you... Now please tell me what you need love?” he said while caressing your cheek.

“Please just hold me Dray..” you asked with pleading eyes.

“Of course, whatever you want. But let’s get you back to my dorm, alright?” he replied and you nodded.

You stepped into his prefect dorm taking in his intoxicating scent that filled the room. You slowly walked over to his bed kicking off your boots and flung yourself down. Draco sat next to you and put a hand on your thigh, and you shifted your gaze to his.

“May I?” he asked gesturing to your clothing, and you nodded.

He started to slowly take off your sweater, and then your skirt, all while simultaneously kissing around your face. He then folded your clothes and laid them on his dresser, and pulled out a large black t-shirt for you to sleep in.

You slipped it on and laid down getting comfortable as you watched him change into his sweats. He made his way over to you and gently crawled under the covers. Draco wrapped his arms around you, letting you lay your head in the crook of his neck. He looked down at your now relaxed state and kissed your forehead softly.

“I love you y/n, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you.. Sleep well my love.” he whispered.

You nodded against his chest and mumbled a quiet “I love you too.” as you fell into a deep sleep in his arms.

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

A/N: Hi all, i’m not sure how I feel about this one.. kinda like it kinda don’t. Lmk! Thank you for reading<3

231 notes · View notes

harrysgloves · 3 years

Text

Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours.

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon.

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin.

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit.

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space.

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone.

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible.

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given.

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything.

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better.

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room.

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!"

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it."

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?"

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed.

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet."

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair.

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions.

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to.

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship.

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather.

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch.

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke.

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near.

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back.

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left.

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you."

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you.

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away.

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one."

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition."

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste.

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat.

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs.

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire.

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest.

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side.

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter.

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again."

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling.

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?"

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

431 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Love and Admiration Part 34- Vulnerable

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Note: there’s a written part after the third screenshot so careful not to accidentally skip past it if you click into the photos to read the texts

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

You wake up slowly to the sound of your phone pinging incessantly and it takes a moment to realize why there’s another warm body beneath you. As memories of the previous night trickle in so too does a combination of hopeful excitement and dread. Bakugo Katsuki loves you, of this you can now be sure. But the uncertainty lies in whether he can forgive you for breaking his heart. Sure, he’d seemed accepting the previous night but it’s one thing to accept late at night in the heat of the moment with your lips on his, and another entirely to accept it under the harsh light of day with a clearer head. You’re brought out of your thoughts when Bakugo’s arm around you tightens in a quick squeeze. “Stop overthinking idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, voice still rough with sleep. You shift slightly so you can look at him properly before replying “How do you know I’m overthinking?” “Can just tell. Relax,” he assures you. “Ok,” you sigh, releasing with it some of the tension from your body. You notice your phone is still pinging so you reach over and grab it off the nightstand. Bakugo scowls at it, taking it from your grip and flicking it on silent before tossing it back to the nightstand before you can even check the notifications. “Uhh is there a particular reason you won’t let me look at my phone?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “It’s just our dumbass friends. Ignore them for now,” he huffs before rolling you both over so you’re pinned beneath him and unable to reach for your phone again. “Katsuki you’re heavy,” you whine, feebly pushing at his shoulder until he shifts so his weight is better distributed on top of you. You expect him to fire some reply back and when he doesn’t you look down at where his head is now lying on your shoulder to find him staring up at you. “What?” you ask, suddenly self conscious as his gaze traces over your face. “I missed hearing you call me by my first name,” he admits quietly, your heart breaking at the words. “I’m so so-“ you start to say but Katsuki covers your mouth with his hand. “You said that already dumbass,” he tells you before getting out of the bed and pulling back on his shirt and boxers.

You watch Bakugo curiously as he digs through your drawers in search of something. Once he finds it he tosses it to you on the bed. As you unfold it you realize it’s the Dynamight hoodie you’d bought alongside the Mercury one for Katsuki. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen,” is the closest you get to an explanation as Katsuki leaves the room. You pull the hoodie on then go to your drawers to find underwear and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. By the time you meet Katsuki in the kitchen he’s pouring two cups of tea and setting them down at your kitchen island so you go to take a seat there and wait for him to come sit next to you. It’s quiet for a moment as you both try to think where to start. “Look I don’t need or want another fucking apology from you got it? I wasn’t entirely blameless or whatever so,” Bakugo starts stiffly. He’s uncomfortable, you can tell. Emotional conversations have never really been his thing, at least not without a heavy dose of violence to simultaneously use as an outlet. It’s just further proof of how important getting this right must be to him. “I just need to know why,” he finally admits although he’s staring resolutely into his mug of tea instead of looking you in the eye. You nod, gathering your thoughts for a moment so you can be sure to get this right. He deserves that much. You both do.

“I’ve had a crush on you since middle school.”

Bakugo’s head snaps to look at you in disbelief so quickly you’re genuinely shocked he didn’t give himself whiplash. “Eh!? Why??” he asks. “I don’t know! You always seemed so cool and you were so determined to get into UA and I am not going to rationalize middle school (y/n)’s feelings ok?? You were a fucking gremlin but you were a gremlin I happened to like a lot,” you huff, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Whatever brat, just finish your fucking explanation,” he scoffs but the tips of his ears and his cheeks have gone pink. “Yea well, you matured a lot in high school so the crush didn’t go away. If anything it got worse but you didn’t really know who I was so that was kinda it y’know? It just became this thing that sat in the back of my head that I ignored,” you explain. “What about that stupid extra you dated?” Bakugo asks, his grip around his mug tightening slightly. “I liked Shindo a lot. Even loved him for a bit but I don’t think he really made the crush go away, just made it ignorable y’know? My crush on you was still right there waiting after he and I broke up. At the party two weeks ago he even told me that the reason he cheated was because he was paranoid I’d leave him for you,” you admit. “That’s not a fucking excuse,” Katsuki practically growls. “I know.” “Good.”

You pause to take a sip from your tea as you continue sorting your thoughts. It’s embarrassing to admit how long you’ve been hung up on Bakugo, especially considering he had no idea who you were even if he loves you now. Even still, you resist that small, self-protective instinct that wants you to shy away. It’s what got you in this situation in the first place after all. You and Katsuki will only work if you can be vulnerable with each other. “But yea, anyway, uhm all that to say I’ve been kinda hung up on you for a really long time but it was always from a distance y’know? Until suddenly it wasn’t and we were hanging out and having sex and you made it very clear that you don’t date and I thought I was fine with that because whatever we were doing was already so much more than I ever thought I’d have with you, especially once I realized you didn’t remember me, but then Shindo kissed me,” you sigh. Katsuki tenses up beside you. “I remember. Thought you were gonna go crawling back to that idiot,” he growls. “I was,” you admit, and once again you worry Katsuki’s going to give himself whiplash with how quickly he turns his head to you. “What? After everything he did to you, why-“ “Relax ok? I couldn’t do it, even though at the time I kind of wanted to.” “Why couldn’t you?” “Because of you.”

The words hang heavy in the air as Bakugo’s eyes scan over your face searching for any indication that you’re lying or embellishing the truth. “Then why did you start avoiding me after that night?” he finally asks and you give a wry smile. “Because I’m an idiot? Kissing Shindo made me realize that the crush I’d been harboring for you for years had changed. It wasn’t just a stupid crush on the idea of you anymore, I was in love with you. I am in love with you. But I thought there was no way you’d ever want anything more than what we were doing and I couldn’t just be your fuckbuddy if I was in love with you, so I distanced myself to try and give myself time to get over you before we could continue our friendship,” you elaborate. “You should’ve just talked to me.” “I know.” “If you had I would’ve told you I’ve admired you since I first saw you fight as a pro a couple years ago,” Bakugo reveals and you can’t help but gape at him. “A couple years?” you ask incredulously. “Yea well, whatever don’t make a big deal out of it I just saw you on a bust or whatever and you fight really well so even if you weren’t the highest ranked or whatever I respected you. Then when I started seeing you around more this year I knew you’d end up top ten. Obviously,” he scoffs, his cheeks blushing an even brighter red at the admission. “I had no idea,” you say in wonder. “That’s obvious.” “Don’t ruin the moment.” “Whatever, can I finish what I was trying to fuckin say now?” “Ok, ok go for it.”

Bakugo rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t fall out as he huffs. “Look I’m... I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since that first time in the alley, it just took you kissing that stupid, shitty extra for me to realize it. So if you’re done being a fucking idiot, I’d like it if you could be my girl,” he confesses and despite his gruff tone you can hear the hope and vulnerability in his voice. “I’d like that too,” you smile, voice soft and warm with affection. “Then c’mere,” Katsuki tells you before tugging you close to him until you’re sitting in his lap, legs straddling his waist. “I love you,” you tell him, voice filled with sincerity and joy at finally having him the way you’ve dreamed and fantasized about for years. “I love you too Princess,” he promises before pulling you into the sweetest kiss.

A/N: I wasn’t 100% sure where I wanted their talk to go I just knew that they needed to talk out exactly what happened instead of just confessing, sleeping with each other, and moving on but it felt only right they both should reveal just how long they’ve had their eyes on each other. Just a couple parts left guys ❤️

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys @theycallme-becky @superhermit @black-rose-29 @disaster-rose @fandomsgotmefucked

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki

90 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

Reunited

Part One of The Necklace (1/3)

Obi-Wan x Reader (f)

Warnings: none; fluff - maybe angst?

Word Count: 2k

Based on this Request:

“If you still need that inspiration... maybe an obi-wan thing where he makes the reader a beautiful necklace when they were young padawans and they get separated bc reader goes om a long mission but when they meet again as adults she still wears it and then he confesses his feelings (a bit of anakin teasing his master about his obvious feelings sprinkled in perhaps😂)”

A/N: Thank you so much to @katevino for this suggestion! I absolutely adore this idea and I decided to turn it into a small series. Part two will be posted this Sunday!

Italics are flashbacks by the way!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Preview:

“How do you think she’ll react to seeing you again, Master?” Anakin asks with a smirk on his face. They both step into the turbolift simultaneously after a small handful of representatives walk out first.

“I don’t know who you’re referring to,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, and very obviously lying. He wanted anything but to be having this conversation right now.

“You can’t think me to be that naïve, Master,” Anakin chuckles as the doors slide closed. It was just the two of them. “I remember her anyways,” he continues, while Obi-Wan’s heart sinks into his stomach. “I know I was very young when she left but I remember distinctly the way you looked at her.”

“It’s nothing that should be of any concern,” Obi-Wan replies, looking up at the ceiling- this already feeling like the longest turbolift he’s ever been in. They’d only gone up one floor before they were stopped and more people entered.

“I think you’re in love with her,” Anakin says so casually, and Obi-Wan coughs nervously because of the shock of Anakin’s words.

“A Jedi holds no attachments, Anakin,” he says, trying his best to take control over this conversation.

“Of course, Master,” Anakin replies sarcastically, holding back a scoff. He bites his lip to hold back a smile and decides to spare his Master of further embarrassment for now.

“I don’t know who you’re referring to,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, and very obviously lying. He wanted anything but to be having this conversation right now.

“I think you’re in love with her,” Anakin says so casually, and Obi-Wan coughs nervously because of the shock of Anakin’s words.

“A Jedi holds no attachments, Anakin,” he says, trying his best to take control over this conversation.

“Of course, Master,” Anakin replies sarcastically, holding back a scoff. He bites his lip to hold back a smile and decides to spare his Master of further embarrassment for now.

He sat on his bunk in the Padawan dormitories and the lamp next to his bunk was his only source of light. The night was pitch dark, not even any stars visible, and yet he sat in complete concentration as his hands worked with the beads he was working with. He knew he would get chastised if he was found up after curfew, but he was determined to finish this project before tomorrow.

He had created a necklace with a chain made of a thin strip of leather, and he was carefully feeding beads onto the material. The beads were dark jeweled tones, various dark greens and blues that complimented the dark brown of the leather. He had never made something so intricate before with just his hands, but it was his goal for it to be perfect. It had to be, for you. It was your thirteenth birthday and it needed to be special.

Traditionally, Padawans would receive a gift from their Masters, but he couldn’t help his desire to also present you with a gift. He knew it was wrong of him, but young Obi-Wan Kenobi harbored a very big crush on his dear friend. The guilt always affected him, but the feelings for you were much stronger than any guilt that tugs on his heartstrings.

The turbolift’s doors opened on the floor they needed and it snapped Obi-Wan out of his daydream where he had let himself wander into the past. He walked out first and Anakin followed. The were sent by the Jedi Consul to Coruscant as representatives for the Jedi Consul to meet with members of the Galactic Senate. There were rumors you would also be in attendance, accompanying the Senator from Alderaan, as you were sent there many years ago for your very extended mission with your late Master.

Walking into the conference room, Obi-Wan tried his best to keep a professional front. He was a very nervous wreck and he thought that his heart would leap from his chest. However, his heart deflated as his eyes scanned the room as there was no sign of you. Somehow, you not being there was in a way both better and worse for him. He hadn’t had this much trouble sorting out his emotions in years. He walked into the room and began shaking hands, introducing himself and Anakin to every Senator he had not yet met and catching up with the ones he’s known.

As people were getting seated around the oblong table, Obi-Wan noticed there were two seats across from him remained empty. He had only just sat down when the door opened again, two figures walking swiftly into the room, offering sincere apologies for their tardiness and then taking the two empty seats across from Obi-Wan and Anakin. A woman sat directly across from Anakin and a man Obi-Wan recognized as the Senator of Alderaan sat across from him. His fears and every other bottled-up emotion he had been dealing with bubbled to the surface again as he realized that the figure, he saw out of focus take the seat across from Anakin was you. The Vice Chair was sitting at one end of the table, and was making her opening remarks for the meeting when Obi-Wan made the fatal mistake of stealing a glance at you.

You were just as beautiful to him as ever. You didn’t look much different than when he last saw you all those years ago. Time, he decided, was much nicer to you than it was him. Your eyes were exactly as he remembered. Kind and incredibly expressive- intoxicating to him even. Of course, the last time he had seen you, you were a young, shy girl, and now you were a woman- holding yourself with confidence and grace, sitting up straight and doing a much better job of keeping yourself together on the outside than he was according to his perception.

And his heart stopped when he saw his necklace resting around your neck.

“Obi-Wan, it’s beautiful,” you marveled, pulling the necklace up out of the small box. “Help me put it on?” You asked, handing him the necklace before turning around and moving your hair out of the way.

“O-of course,” he replied nervously and fumbled with the clasp but did manage to help you get the necklace on.

“I love it,” you smile, holding your hand up to run your fingers across the smooth beads. “I’m never going to take it off.”

He grinned back at you, butterflies in his stomach looking at how it looked on you. Your whole face felt hot, and he knew he couldn’t help the blush rise on his face. Even at thirteen, he was in love with you. Of course, he was young and it wasn’t until much later on he realized he had loved you way back then. But nonetheless, he was undeniably in love with you.

“I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” you say with a smile. “Obi-Wan I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he manages to stutter. He follows your lead as you take a seat. You both sat under the tree in the courtyard of the temple. You both sit in silence for a few moments before you decide to speak again.

“Does it ever both you that you can never form attachments with someone?” You ask softly. “We’re not allowed to fall in love?”

“I-I suppose it does,” Obi-Wan answers, his heart beating so fast. It was like you could read every thought in his mind he had managed to close off as best as he could. “Does it bother you?”

“Yeah,” You admit. You look up at the sky as the colors signify that the sun is beginning to set and you both would need to go to dinner soon. “It’s frustrating… the rule is written like it’s something you can chose. No matter how hard I try, I can’t help how I feel at times…”

“I know how you feel,” he says softly, looking at you with his heart on his sleeve. “I- I really do. You have no idea.”

“Obi-Wan?” You say softly, even though you were alone you spoke in a hushed tone like someone would possibly hear.

“Yes?”

“I feel- I feel like that about you,” you admit, unable to look at him in case he was to reject you. You knew you shouldn’t- you both did. The feelings you held for him were too strong for you to suppress. You had two hopes, perhaps he would feel the same or he would talk you into reason.

You never imagined he would confess he felt the same. You also never imagined that he would lean over and place a quick kiss on your lips as a response, just overcome with the relief to know you felt the same. It was the first kiss either of you ever experienced.

How desperately he wanted to just pull you into his arms now. Despite the room of people, and the very important conversation he should be engaging in- his focus is solely on you. Anakin nudges him when a Senator directs a question their way and he tries his best to answer. He felt Anakin’s struggle to maintain a professional stature and Obi-Wan knew after the meeting his apprentice would be unable to hold back his comments.

The meeting went on for ages, and Obi-Wan just felt uneasy the entire time. When the meeting adjourned, he wasn’t sure how to approach you. You and the Senator you accompanied lingered like many others to chat. Anakin, before Obi-Wan could even think of what to do, confidently walked over to you as soon as the senator you were speaking to walked away.

“Master (Y/L/N),” Anakin said, “I don’t know if you remember me. Anakin Skywalker- I was a Padawan at the Temple right before you left on your mission. I’m sure you remember my Master, Master Kenobi.”

“I do remember you,” you say with a smile, looking between the young apprentice and the man who loved. You tried your best to remain civil, and you clearly sensed the amusement of young Skywalker at your and Obi-Wan’s discomfort. “You’ve grown up quite a bit.”

“That was the plan,” Anakin jests, “I’m going to say hello to the Senator Amidala.” And just like that, it left the two of you to face each other for the first time in years.

“Obi-Wan,” you say breathlessly, finally allowing yourself to address him. He looked amazing. He’s traded his braid for a beard, and he looked so distinguished. He always held himself with pride but now he looked the part of a Jedi Master- with an apprentice!

“I’m so happy to see you again,” he says with a smile, one that was clouded with an undertone of sadness. “How long will you be staying in the city?” He asks.

“Just for a few days and then I am returning back to Alderaan,” you reply. “If you have the time, I’d love to catch up?”

“I’d like nothing more,” Obi-Wan says, making you smile. You hated that the first time seeing him is in a place where you can’t just collapse in his arms and just immediately make up for the years away from him. You didn’t even know if he still felt the same as you did. You never stopped loving him. He had promised you the same all those years ago, but you were not expecting him to still hold those same feelings. You both committed yourselves to the Jedi Order and you cannot expect him to go back on those terms you both must adhere.

“Tonight?” You ask, hopefully.

“Tonight,” he confirms. He wanted nothing more than to leave this conference room. Sweep you away from the politics and the mess of the galaxy, to express his undying love and how the time apart just made him long for you. He’d pull you into him and beg you to return to the Temple with him so you could be in his life again.

“You should reign in that apprentice of yours,” you joke, looking over at Anakin with Senator Amidala, “You looked at me the same way,” you say, turning back to him. He chuckles, looking over at the two of them. “So anyways,” you say quickly, before he can respond to your observation, “I’m going to be staying at the Temple while I’m here, I suppose I’ll see you both there later on?”

“Yes, undoubtedly,” Obi-Wan answers. “I hate to leave, but I need to reign in my apprentice.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” you say nonchalantly.

“I’ll make sure to find you when we return,” he says, before heading towards Anakin and Senator Amidala.

You sigh, and begin your goodbyes, parting ways with the Alderaan Senator for the day. You start your journey back to the Temple, with Obi-Wan being the only thing on your mind.

Part Two

#obi wan x y/n #obi wan fluff #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x reader #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #multi part fic #fluff imagine

172 notes · View notes

behindheremeraldeyes · 3 years

Text

damirae week 2021 Wednesday, May 5th - holiday & vacations title: love is in the air summary: When his brother decides to mess with him as a Holiday prank, Damian ends up having to travel in coach like the rest of the mortals. Eventually, though, he learns that turbulence can strike even before the plane takes off.

“What do you mean by coach class?”

His brows are furrowed when he asks her that, a puzzled expression taking over his face. Expectant, green eyes are on the flight attendant in front of him, as he waits for her to provide him a little more information on the matter. She’s growing anxious the longer he stares at her, a nervous tic making her left eye tremble whenever she tries to maintain eye-contact. Apparently, she knows who he is— of course she does— therefore; he believes it’s safe to presume she understands why he’s so confused.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Wayne, but that’s what your ticket says.” She explains, her voice laced with nervousness as she shows him the printed paper with his name written on. Damian is not blind— far from that, actually. He can see all the information written on that paper, but no matter how much he tries, he still can’t comprehend the ‘coach’ part. He has been traveling by plane for as long as he can remember, and never once has he deliberately chosen a seat in coach— in fact, never once has he chosen a seat at all, since he has a secretary of his own. A very competent and well-paid one, for the matter.

Such a primal mistake like this has never happened in all the years they’ve been working together. Something must have happened, he knows.

“I believe there must have been some mistake.” He states calmly, his demeanor unaltered. “Could you please check it again? The people at my company would never make such a trivial mistake.”

“Of course, I understand completely. I’ll try checking it on the system to see if I can find anything.”

Her fingers move rapidly across the keyboard, and he studies her face, looking for a hint of what’s actually happening. She’s still nervous, he can tell, and if anything, that’s not a good sign. It means she’s not finding the problem in the system, and if she’s not finding it, it means the said problem doesn’t exist. And if it doesn’t exist— well— something must have happened at Wayne tech.

How odd, he ponders.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Wayne, but there really has been no mistake. Your ticket was ordered last Wednesday night, and it is as I’ve told you, see?” She turns the monitor so he can see, probably so he won’t hold it against her or anything. “You know, it’s quite common for some of our clients to make this kind of mistake. Perhaps you forgot to select the first class? “

“Highly unlikely. My secretary always double-checks everything.”

“Well, both the coach class and the seat were chosen by your secretary last Wednesday night. Are you sure nothing unusual happened when he ordered the ticket for you?”

“I’m positive. It was a normal Wednesday and— wait.” He suddenly stops. His emerald eyes blink once, twice and a third time, a blank expression taking over his handsome face. ”Did you just say he?”

Once he allows her words to sink in, Damian questions the integrity of his ears. Perhaps, after all of those years fighting crime and handling explosives, they might not be working as perfectly as they are supposed to.

He must have heard it wrong because, last time he checked, Mrs. Miller was not a man. She’s a conservative woman who’s around her 60s, and even if that doesn’t mean a thing anymore, she has never once told him anything about switching genders. If anything, she’s always the one lecturing Jason about finding a kind woman such as herself.

Still, a stranger such as the woman standing in front of him could never know such personal things about Mrs. Miller’s life. Things are not adding up. And for he is his father’s son, he wants to know why.

“Oh, yes. I presume the name Richard belongs to a man, no? It’s the name of the account who’s booked you this flight.”

“Richard?!” He questions, and it only takes him a second to put all the pieces of that silly puzzle together.

Grayson, you bastard.

Now it all makes perfect sense. Of course he had to be behind this childish act. Who else would have enough free time to waste before the Holidays just to prank a busy, young man such as himself? His older brother might be respected by many of their super friends, but more than anyone, Damian knows he is but a child filled with hormones. He probably thought it would be funny to make his little brother travel for hours in coach as a commoner, where he would have to sit next to a stranger.

That worthless manwhore.

However, he won’t let his predecessor have the last laugh. Grayson did this solely to piss him off and throw him out of his comfort zone, therefore, the best revenge should be handling the situation without creating a fuss. Damian is going to accept the conditions without putting up a fight, and his brother’s victory will have a bitter taste.

Yes, that’s how a real man gets his personal revenge. He will endure a six-hours flight home in coach class like a pro, and he will show the first Robin not to mess with the newest generation.

A proud smirk, then, takes over his lips. That certainly should teach him a lesson—well, that and the explosives Damian plans to hide in his brother’s bedroom, of course.

“Mister Wayne, I’m terribly sorry about all this. I—“

“No need to be sorry. In fact, I should be the one apologizing for all of these questions now that I know what happened.” He starts, placing his hand on his chest as an apologetical gesture. “You see, Richard is my older brother. He’s not as smart as the rest of the family, so it’s highly likely that he’s made this mistake.”

“Oh, I understand. I guess every family has one of those, right?”

“You have no idea. Now, Karen.” He says, finally paying attention to the name written on her uniform. “I’m incredibly sorry for wasting your time. Without further ado, I will head to my seat.”

“Mister Wayne, you’re very kind, indeed.” She starts, a blush tinging her cheeks. With a staple, she makes small holes on his ticket before handling it back to him. “I hope you have a safe flight to Gotham.”

“Yeah, me too.”

His voice doesn’t sound as irritated as he feels, and that alone is a big victory. Without wasting more of his precious time, Damian walks towards the jet bridge so he can finally board the plane. A couple walks behind him, chuckling as they talk about how much fun it will be to go back home for Christmas.

Going home for the Holidays, huh?

An entire week at the Wayne Manor with his brothers and his father, sharing meals together and trying not to murder each other during their morning exercises. Though Gotham could not get any safer since the whole bat-family will be together, it is also the one time of the year when his murderous instincts are at their peak.

A tired sigh escapes his lips. That’s a problem for another time, he thinks.

Once inside the plane, his eyes search for the signs that will take him to his seat. For the first time in his life, he turns right instead of left— coach instead of first class— and suddenly, a small corridor is in front of him. For a moment, he feels like a cow heading for the slaughterhouse, as many other people are forming a line in front of him.

It’s hard to breathe and even harder to walk with all of those people trying to put their bags inside the upper compartments. He checks his ticket again. D21. According to the numeration pattern, he’s almost there, but he’s still not moving fast enough. All the simultaneous talk is driving him insane, and now he understands why some people choose to dope themselves as soon as they get inside the plane.

He doesn’t have any sleeping pills with him, but maybe if he punches himself with enough strength…

No. He can make it. Things will get better once he sits down and they take off. It can’t possibly get any worse than it already is, right?

Right?

A curse is muffled under his breath, and finally, he reaches his seat. For he knows how to travel light, Damian is quick to place his bag where it belongs and now he can establish himself. It’s a window seat, he notices, which means that soon there will be another person next to him, too close for his own liking. He knows there’s no use in picturing what kind of person it will be, but he can certainly hope it’s a nice one who knows how to respect his personal space.

If he or she doesn’t have vocal chords, Damian definitely won’t complain.

He closes his eyes for a moment, then, allowing himself to settle down and get used to his surroundings. It’s chaotic, he thinks, and he knows chaotic. Children are crying, some people are on the phone and others are just breathing too loud. He knows he’s whining like a brat, but it’s stronger than him. It’s annoying, and he swears if that lady keeps on talking about her 3 cats, he’s going to—

His inner monologue stops, his eyes widening for a moment. At last, he hears the one thing he hates more than Joker’s maniacal laughter. That unbearable sound that makes his head throb and makes his lips turn into a deep frown.

“Is that Damian Wayne?”

Teenage girls. And they know him.

Perhaps it’s the annoying giggle or even the way they keep on getting bolder every time they meet him, but Damian can’t stand them. They’re just too obnoxious— a real pain. He honestly doesn’t know why on earth they tend to approach him whenever they have the chance, especially since he’s sure he has never once paid them any attention. In fact, chances are he has even been rude to them on more than one occasion.

Trying to understand a teenager’s mind is beyond his capacity. Ignoring them, though doesn’t prevent them from returning, is the easiest way out, and when they come— because they will come— that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Excuse me, Damian Wayne.” One of them says, her voice laced with excitement. Two more stand next to her, but he can’t really tell them apart. “It’s you, isn’t it? “

Jesus, can someone please knock him out already?

He crosses his arms at her words, his brows now knitted in annoyance. He’s pretty sure there’s nothing welcoming in his expression, but that won’t stop them from continuing. It’s not like they actually care about his feelings or anything.

“Oh, my god! It really is you!“ She claps her hands, biting her lower lip. “Can I get a selfie? Can I?”

“God, Mary. Can you be any more inconvenient?” The one on her left asks, pushing her friend away so she can take a step closer. “Forgive my friend. She can’t read the atmosphere like I can. If you want, I can send her away and keep you some company during the flight.”

“Ugh, get out of my way, both of you!” The third one pushes through, using her elbows to force her way forward. “Hi, I love you and I really mean it, Damian! I love you so much that, if you want, we can meet at the bathroom cabinet and I’ll show you.”

His eyes widen in horror at such proposal, and he’s almost sure this girl isn’t old enough to be saying such things. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as a bunch of people lift their phones to point at him, all of them waiting to hear his final answer so the dirty press can judge him.

Grayson is going to pay dearly for this.

This girl is insufferable. All of them are.

They’re causing all of that commotion, preventing people from walking down the small corridor and embarrassing him in front of all of those eyes. They can’t possibly think it’s okay to do or say those things so openly like to a man they know nothing about. Though the initial plan might have been for him to at least talk to them, Damian can’t bear any more hatred inside of him than at this very moment, and if looks could kill, those three wouldn’t be breathing anymore.

His hands turn into fists and he closes his heavy eyes so he can stop himself from committing a murder. Justice, not vengeance. His father’s words echo inside his head, and he’s having a really hard time trying not to think only about the second part. He really just wants to go home right now. And thankfully, he’s not the only one.

“Hum, excuse me…”

His ears detect a fresh voice, calmer and more mature. Instinctively, he opens his eyes to look at this new stranger, and he’s impressed by what he sees. She’s beautiful, he notices. Dark hair, violet eyes and ivory skin, all together to form an ethereal beauty like he has never seen before. Damian can’t help but keep looking at her, curious to know what she’s going to say on this matter.

“Hi!” She continues, her thin lips turning upwards in a smile. “I know you’re all busy trying to seduce this man with your oozing pheromones and irrefutable proposals, but in case you haven’t noticed, there are people trying to get to their seats here.”

“So what?” One of them says, a hand on her hips and a lot of attitude in her high-pitched voice. She’s trying to be intimidating, but it’s clearly not working. “Can’t you see who he is, you emo? He is—“

“I couldn’t care less about who he is.” The raven-haired girl cuts in, clearly not in the mood for that drama. “He could be Superman or even the president himself, for all I care. My problem is with you three airheads who are interrupting the flow. There are people trying to walk here and the airplane hallway is not a place to flirt with strangers who won’t even remember your face once we take off.”

“What!? Of course he will remember!” She glares. “We are—“

“Annoying the hell out of him? That you are. I mean, just look at his face! He looks like shit!” She points at him, violet eyes now meeting emerald ones. Her though expression suddenly melts into a softer one, her head tilting a bit to the right. “No offense, though.”

“None taken.” He answers, an amused smirk now taking over his face. She nods at him before returning her burning eyes to those three girls.

“Like the rest of us, this man just wants this damn plane to get him where he needs to be so he can move on with his life and get drunk during the holidays. We don’t want to be here. So, without further ado, could please you get the fuck out of the way before I lose my temper? ”

He doesn’t know what happens next or even how a small girl such as herself could be so intimidating, but at her words, he notices his three fangirls flinching. They’re avoiding eye-contact, and for the first time, one of them seems to grow aware of the crowd staring at them. The one standing in the middle starts to tremble, and though they’re looking at him as if searching for some sort of support, Damian can’t bring himself to offer them anything slightly remote to that.

In fact, if he has to pick sides, he wouldn’t need to think twice before taking the brunette’s.

“I-I… I—“

“You what?” She asks, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. Her pose holds no hesitation as she stands her ground. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? “

With a 'tch’, the three girls finally walk away, returning to their respective seats with their heads hanging low, and he can’t help but feel incredibly satisfied by that. There’s a victorious smirk on her face, and it’s safe for him to assume she’s also feeling pretty good about what she just did.

What an interesting woman, he thinks. All that sass and eloquence are certainly eliciting his curiosity, and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he can’t help but feel slightly turned on by this stranger.

Interesting, indeed.

While Damian is still trapped in his thoughts, a round of applause takes over the airplane, as people congratulate the raven-haired girl. They pat her shoulders, thank her for getting rid of those girls, and she even laughs once the old lady behind her tells her they don’t make girls like her anymore. For a quick moment, she becomes the hero they didn’t know they needed, and for sure, this is going to be a pleasant story to tell during Christmas dinner.

They will portray her as the girl who saved their flight.

Damian, however, will portray her as the one who told his fangirls to fuck off.

He really needs to thank her for that. Fortunately, he will have over six hours to do that.

Before the Wayne heir can bring himself to form the words in his head, the girl is placing her small bag in the compartment above their heads. As she lifts her arms, her shirt lifts, momentarily exposing her belly. Even if it was just for a brief second, she catches him staring, and once their eyes meet, he looks away, his cheeks growing slightly warmer.

He sees as she slowly shakes her head before sitting next to him, and though he was not expecting a girl such as her, he’s currently thanking the superior forces for the partner destiny has chosen to be his seat-mate. She’s beautiful, her voice is not annoying, and the best part is that she doesn’t seem to give a crap about who he is.

Maybe he’s finally going mad because of— well— everything, but right now, Damian trulls believes that he might even fall in love with this girl.

A sly smirk takes over his lips, and he can’t help but stare at her for a little too long. She watches as he does so, and as expected, she doesn’t feel embarrassed or inhibited at all. Instead, she stares back, eyes squinting a bit in sheer mockery. A questioning look spreads across her face, and he decides that he should be the one saying something. Anything, really.

“You’re mean.” He states, as if that’s the biggest truth in the world. She tilts her head, but his words don’t seem to affect her.

“So what?” She asks, not really caring about his answer as she fastens her seatbelt. ”If you didn’t like the way I talked to your fan girls, you can go and apologize to them, be their hero or whatever. Though, if you’re really gonna go meet them at the bathroom cabinet, I suggest we switch seats so we don’t bump knees every time you have to go.”

She’s a spirituous one, he notices. And if he’s not careful, he might be the next victim of her graciously rude words. “Nah, don’t worry about it. As you’ve pointed out before, I don’t even remember their faces anymore. Your knees can rest assured.”

“Thanks, I guess?” She lifts her brows, not bothering to spare him another glance as she adjusts her dark clothes. There’s a book resting over her lap— Christmas Carol, for what he can see— and she uses her small fingers to tug a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah…” He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “By the way, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I am Damian— “

“Save it. I know who you are, Wayne. I might not be the most updated person in this world, but even Eskimos know your family. Don’t worry, though. I promise I’m not a disguised reporter or an annoying fangirl.”

“Not with that attitude, you’re not. Your clear lack of interest in my personal life can only be matched by only one other person I know.”

“Oh, really?” She asks, her eyes now turning to face him. Now that they’re so close to each other, he can see how bright they really are, and for a moment, he thinks she might even have hypnotic powers because he just can’t look away. There’s a curious tone lingering over her words, and he wants to believe she’s actually paying attention to him this time. “And who would that be, if I may ask?”

“My father.” He answers bluntly, and he notices as she she chokes back a giggle. There’s a soft smile decorating her lips now, and the surrounding atmosphere feels a lot lighter.

“Rachel Roth.” She sticks out her hand to him, and without hesitation, he shakes it carefully. Her hand is soft against his calloused one, and he notices the way she brushes her thumb over his skin. It’s a delicate and pure gesture, so fleeting that makes him wanting more as soon as he releases her from his grip.

“Well, Rachel…” Her name rolls out of his tongue as he tests the sound of it. It has a nice ring to it, he notices. “I think I need to thank you for saving me from a huge headache back then. Seriously, I owe you one.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I didn’t really do it for you, so you don’t need to thank me or anything. I just wanted them to get out of my seat, that’s all.”

“Selfish or not, you still got rid of them, so… thanks. “

“Well, if that’s the case, you’re welcome, Damian.” Rachel nods at him, the same smile still decorating her face. She picks up her book, then, flipping through the pages so she can pick up from where she had left. The way she says his name— so simple and unpretentious— makes his lips curl upwards, and all the bad feelings from before disappear.

This girl— Rachel— she’s showing what a life away from the streets and the business meetings must feel like. The conversation flows easily and effortlessly, to the point where it’s hard to believe they’ve met not even 30 minutes ago. It feels natural in a way very few things in his life do, and though he knows it’s not meant to last, at least he will cherish this moment before it turns into a fading memory in the depths of his mind.

Moments of pure joy shall fade into oblivion, that’s one of the most important rules of his life.

Thankfully, the internet is forever.

An unexpected buzz inside his pants breaks his train of thought. At first, he decides to ignore it, but after the third time, he gives up on the idea. Silently, he scoffs in annoyance, fishing his phone from his pocket. He presses the side button, then, the screen lighting up to reveal a couple of notifications. His eyes, though, land on three particular messages from his family’s group chat:

Grayson: I ship it

Drake : what happened, Damian? Are you okay?? Todd : hot and feisty. The best kind of girl, little bro

His brows furrow in confusion at his brothers’ messages. For what he can conclude, they’re talking about a girl he knows and has interacted with, but that’s pretty much it. The only female human in his mind right now is Rachel, and there’s no way for them to be talking about her. He’s not being followed or bugged, for all he knows— and he knows.

Something strange is happening, and he wants to know what. The youngest Wayne, then, texts them a single ‘?’ and almost immediately, Dick sends him a link to an Instagram page. He’s growing more confused with every additional information, but figures it must be just another one of Grayson’s stupid pranks.

He sighs at the thought. Isn’t he a bit too old for that?

An annoyed pout takes over his lips as a clear sign that he just wants to get this stupid thing over with. Once he taps on the link, though, it takes less than a second for his eyes to widen and his bored expression change into a surprised one. The video playing is muted, but he doesn’t need any volume or subtitles to know what the raven-haired girl in it is saying.

Oh… That angle does make her look nice.

He blinks twice as he allows the whole thing to sink in. Apparently, all of that show earlier was recorded by some cameras and posted all over the internet. There are many posts about it, with all possible captions and comments about them, and he has to admit some are quite creative. Apparently, they’re the new internet hits, not that Damian really cares about it. He’s used to all the lies and overreacted dramas, but if he were to be honest, this one is making him quite intrigued.

Not by the gossip itself, no. That would never happen.

This time, he’s intrigued by how the girl next to him will react as soon as she finds out.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches as she’s calmly reading her book, waiting for the plane to take flight. She’s immersed in Charles Dickens’ words, and it’s like the entire world around her can’t interrupt her. It’s just her and the book, and for she hasn’t touched her phone since her arrival, he’s quite sure she doesn’t know what’s happening in the digital world.

At least, not yet.

He’s definitely going to tell her.

“Uh… Rachel? ”

“Yes, Damian?” She answers, her eyes not bothering to leave the pages of the book.

“Just a quick question… How do you feel about being the center of attentions? “

“I hate it. Why?”

“Well, you might have to reconsider this…” His voice falters and he slowly massages the back of his head.

“Oh, and why would I do that?” She looks at him, at last, her brows now arched. Her expression is blank, and he suddenly wants to laugh because she has no idea of what’s coming.

“Here, check this out. ”

He gives her his phone, a smirk decorating his face. Slowly, he watches the video playing once again on the small screen, all life slowly fading from her pretty face. Her eyes widen, her lips part, and she places her fingers on her left temple. Her cheeks are growing redder than a tomato, and once the video ends, she is completely dumbfounded.

“Wha-what the hell!?“ A couple of seconds pass until she says something, her voice a little too loud, and her eyes filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “What’s the meaning of this, Damian!?”

“Well, I think people enjoyed your bossy words from many different angels”” He starts, taking his phone back and scrolling through his time line. His voice sounds too excited for her liking, and it’s easy to tell he’s trying to hold back a laughter. “You went viral, Rachel. ”

“No no no no.” She repeats, slowly shaking her head in denial and taking her own phone in hands. With trembling fingers, she opens her Instagram page and a rush of follows and mentions makes her eyes widen even more. “I can’t believe this is happening. ”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.” Damian tries to calm her down, but the joy in his voice takes all of his credit away.

“Not that bad?!” Her eyes are glaring at him now, cheeks puffed in pure anger. “I got remixed, Damian!”

A sly smile takes over his lips, and he’s]really trying not to laugh in front of her. “And it’s a good remix. Besides, for what I can see, most people are on our side.”

“Our side? I was just trying to reach my seat. There’s no our side, Damian.”

“Well, apparently, there is. Look.” He leans towards her, absentmindedly, until he’s close enough to feel her embarrassment exhaling from her. Their knees are brushing, but neither of them seems to be aware of that closeness right now. He shows her his phone one more time, a couple of comments now displayed. “Some people are even shipping us already. #Damirae.”

A defeated whimper escapes her lungs, and finally, she locks her phone-screen. Apparently, Rachel can’t look at all that anymore, and decides to just sink into the seat. Her hands are covering her face, and her voice is muffled when the next words come out. “Ugh, this is a nightmare.”

“Try looking at the bright side. This video can make you famous. I’m sure the media already loves your sarcasm. “

“If you haven’t noticed, Wayne, I’m a goth.” She spreads her hands across her face so she can look at him through the space between her fingers, and he can’t help but find that utterly adorable. “I don’t do bright side. ”

“God, you’re so dramatic.” He also locks his phone, placing it back inside his pockets. His torso turns around so he can face her properly, that same smirk still planted on his lips. “It’s just a video, relax. Most people will soon forget about it.”

“Some people? And what about the others?” Her voice is lower now, shier, as if she’s really seeking some sort of comfort— not that he’s even trying to offer her any.

“Oh, we will remember this forever, don’t worry.” A dry chuckle escapes his lips, and he notices the way her expression melts in response, tension and nervousness now gone.

Damian is having the time of his life, not only because the video was, indeed, funny; but also because he’s getting to see another side of this interesting girl who’s sitting next to him. Even if she really is bothered by the whole thing right now, eventually, he trusts that she will get over it and realize that no one gives a damn about stuff like that.

It’s just a temporary thing. A funny story for the future.

Rachel will survive it. And he—well…

He’s just found himself an excuse to follow her on Instagram.

“You jerk.” She chuckles, finally placing her hands on her lap and adjusting her posture. She takes a deep breath, then, as if she’s trying to recompose herself, but he notices the way she shrinks a little once she realizes the couple next to them are staring. Her body turns towards his, a sign that she feels somehow safe with him.

And for that, he’s extremely glad.

“That’s a new thing.” Damian states, mockery no longer lacing his voice.

“What is?” The girl questions.

“You’re laughing.”

“So what?”

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just… cute.”

Her cheeks grow red once more and she bites her lips. For a fraction of a second, she turns away from him, but soon, her amethyst eyes are once more looking into his emeralds ones. “Shut up, will you? You’ll need more than that if you want your Damirae fantasy to come true.”

“Oh, so are you saying I have a chance, Rachel?” He teases, knowing very well she didn’t mean it like that. Still, he figures he can’t waste this opportunity. “Are you sure you’re not a disguised fangirl? “

“You wish, Wayne.“ She smirks, offering him a side glance as she picks up her book again. “And I never said that.”

“You didn’t say the other way around, either.”

“Good point.” She nods, acknowledging his words instead of trying to deny them. “I guess you have the entire flight to make sure I keep it that way…”

There’s a flirty tone in her voice, and instantly, the Wayne heir is up for the challenge. Their eyes meet again, and for a moment, he thinks she’s checking him out. They smile at each other, exchanging that you-know-what look, and right now, he doesn’t think this flight will be long enough.

He wants to know more about her. He wants to play this push-and-pull game, and more than anything, he wants her phone number. And Damian Wayne win’t stop until he gets what he wants.

At last, the pilot makes his announcements, and for once, they break eye contact when the flight attendant passes by their seats, closing the compartment above their heads. Seat-belts are fastened, tables are up, and the crew is ready. They’re ready to take off.

fin.

-----

a/n: Well, there are not enough words to describe how much trouble I had with these prompts. I gave up on so many ideas and got so mad at everything that I’m impressed I even managed to write something in the end. Still, I’m glad to have written this one. I had a lot of fun with the dialogues and with every smirk I wrote! Hope you’ve enjoyed it, and please, tell me what you think!

#damirae #damirae fanfiction #damirae week 2021 #damian x raven #damirae fanfic #mydamiraefics

78 notes · View notes