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#minor hurt/comfort
phantom-z0ne · 3 months
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Serendipity
"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.” Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.
WC: 1215
Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
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Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections. 
The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.
From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry? 
Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billy’s soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence. 
Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.
Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.
The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two? 
Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. “So,” He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. “What are you doing here, little guy?”
It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.
The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billy’s knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.
Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.
Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.
The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way. 
“What are you?” Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.
It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.
He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home. 
…He hadn't realized how lonely he was before this. 
He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But… this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billy’s techniques as Captain Marvel.
The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.
Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the other’s company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else. 
With this creature— he’d have to name it eventually, Billy thought absently—all that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.
Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done. 
It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.
Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.
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Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funk 
Thanks for reading!!
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Ao3
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A bunch of thugs kidnap the younger brother of the most powerful hero on Mobius.
They really should've known better...
LONG LIVE WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY!
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unicornletters · 6 months
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stress headache, izzy x frenchie
Izzy’s nursing a serious fucking headache, maybe an oncoming migraine, on top of the perpetual throbbing in his stump and the way his back is always out of joint and a thousand other aches and pains that fifty-something flesh is heir to. 
He doesn’t want to talk to anyone on board this fucking ship, not a single one of them. Sure, they’re all his friends, practically family most of them, but if anyone speaks to him while he’s trying to get where he’s going now, which is his own fucking cabin, he’ll snap.
He’ll regret it later, but he will snap.
He makes it to his cabin, thank fuck, and thinks longingly of the dark silence that awaits him. He opens the door, and –
“Frenchie,” he says, gritting his teeth.
“Izzy!” Frenchie says, breaking into a huge smile, his voice already hurting Izzy’s ears.
“Headache,” Izzy says, hoping that makes it clear enough.
Frenchie makes a little moue, and sits on the bed.
“Can I rub your neck?” he asks. “Does wonders for headaches, everyone says so.”
Izzy considers this. Throw out this sweet and cheerful man who, for whatever reason, genuinely wants to spend time around him, or submit to a neck rub?
It’s really not a choice.
He sits next to Frenchie and lets himself be manipulated into position. Frenchie knows what he’s doing, fuck, this is incredible. Izzy can feel the tension draining away from his neck, his shoulders, even his jaw, and his headache is receding too. Not a migraine like he thought, then. Good old stress headache.
“Feeling better, love?” Frenchie asks, and Izzy blushes.
“Much,” he says, as gruff as he can make himself sound. “Thanks.”
“Anything for you,” Frenchie says, which is both a joke and not a joke somehow, in a way Izzy can’t even figure out how he understands. He’s learning Frenchie’s language, he guesses, and that’s dangerous. That’s Ed-and-Izzy territory, and Izzy never again wants someone to have that kind of hold on him.
“Hope not,” he says. “We should be realistic.”
Frenchie rolls his eyes so hard Izzy can practically hear it.
“Okay,” he says, “not anything for you, probably, but, you know, anything you want from me. You wouldn’t want anything I wouldn’t want to give. I just know it.”
Izzy doesn’t know whether he deserves that trust.
“Well,” Izzy says, “all right. Anything from me that you want, as long as it’s not blind loyalty.”
“I’d never,” Frenchie says, pressing a kiss to the top of Izzy’s head. “Lie down for me, pet? I think it’s nap time.”
Izzy doesn’t even protest when Frenchie maneuvers his own long-limbed body into bed next to him and nuzzles his head against Izzy’s chest. He’s the captain of this vessel; he can have a midday nap if he decides that’s what he wants.
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commander-krios · 1 year
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Happy SpecReqs 2023, @ginbiscuit! I loved your list of requests so much I had to write you another fic. I hope that's ok! So here is some Joker (my fave boy) and James Vega.
Beta done by @comeoniwantacoolname, thank you hun!
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Title: Yours
Summary: 
What's in a name?
The hell if Joker knows, but it's important to James Vega to give him a nickname, no matter how much he wishes it wasn't. And if someone asked him if he cared about what the nickname ended up being, he would deny it with his last breath.
No amount of denial can change the truth. He secretly loves the attention.
Words: 5816
Rating: T
Relationship: Jeff "Joker" Moreau/James Vega
Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Nicknames, Teasing, Massages, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Food as a Love Language, Fluff, Developing Relationship
Read on AO3
~~~
Jeff Moreau was used to being alone. Call it a self preservation instinct or whatever, but each time he let himself trust someone, gave them access to his innermost thoughts and feelings, offered them a chance to know him on a deeper level than just ‘I’m the best pilot in the Alliance’, it always ended with him being disappointed. He could count on one hand the amount of people he trusted more than skin deep and one of them was a sentient AI that could probably kill him by sucking the air out of the entire ship.
It didn’t matter to him. At least, that’s what he told himself. He was always the loner, ever since grade school, since joining the Alliance, and since graduating flight academy. But it irked him a little whenever he saw members of the crew gathered in the mess during their downtime: to play poker, or eat together, or just shoot the shit about inconsequential things. Anything that didn’t involve the damned war they lived and breathed.
That’s why he was immediately suspicious when Lieutenant James Vega came aboard. 
At first glance, Vega seemed like the jocks that used to pick on him in high school: dumb and too into his own muscles to have anything of substance to say. He worked out in the shuttle bay every day. That had to be on the same level of sociopathy as stealing candy from babies.
He even wondered if Shepard had warned Vega about his special brand of humor.
During one of those first nights after leaving Earth to the Reapers, when Jeff had put EDI in charge of flying to the Citadel so he could rest before docking, he ran into Vega in the mess, cooking.
And the food didn’t smell like Gardner’s crap from when Shepard had flown with Cerberus.
Upon sensing his entrance, Vega turned and gave him a small wave, before becoming engrossed in his food preparations once more. Jeff nodded in response, digging into the fridge for something to drink. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, maybe a light snack before hitting the rack, but he wanted to do it in silence. And Vega seemed incapable of staying quiet.
“Hey Wings, you want any?”
It took him a minute to realize that Vega was talking to him. “What did you just call me?”
The spot between Vega’s eyes wrinkled, nose scrunching as if he realized his nickname could be offensive. “Sorry, it’s something I do with everyone. Make up nicknames. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Did it? Make him uncomfortable? He was going to say, yeah don’t do that again and leave me the hell alone, but Vega didn’t seem like he was being disingenuous or cruel. Maybe he really was trying to be friendly.
Clearing his throat, Joker shrugged, grabbing the closest drink he could find, not even realizing it wasn’t the water he’d had his eyes on until he closed the fridge. He’d look like an idiot if he opened it again to correct his mistake so he tucked the strawberry protein smoothie under his arm, trying to avoid looking any more stupid than he already did.
“Look, Lieutenant. I don’t mind a nickname but, uh, do you think you could come up with something a little better than Wings?”
The marine cracked a grin. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know! Something better than that. Hell, just use Joker because it’s my actual name.” He threw up his hands and the bottle dropped to the floor. Thankfully, glass was banned from starships decades ago and the smoothie rolled across the floor to nestle snugly against James’ foot. The soldier glanced at it briefly before stooping down to pick it up. 
Joker would’ve made a run for it if he thought he could escape without breaking a leg, but that wasn’t reality. So he stood there like an idiot as Vega held the bottle out to him. He snatched it from his hands a little too roughly, but he would chide himself over it later once his cheeks stopped burning from the embarrassment.
“Heads up, that shake tastes more like those indigestion meds that the doc gives you than actual strawberries.” Vega turned back to his pan and whatever it was he was cooking. “Or you can still have a bite of my machaca.”
He had no idea what the hell that was.
“I think I’ll survive fine, thanks.”
Vega shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered either way. 
Joker watched him a minute longer than he should’ve, but wasn’t acknowledged again. Huh. Clutching the bottle of protein drink to his chest, he shuffled out of the mess, shooting a few glances over his shoulder as if James Vega would disappear like a ghost.
When he was certain that the entire interaction had actually happened, Joker entered the crew quarters, taking a swig of the smoothie. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, he lurched, almost tossing the small amount he drank back up onto the floor. Its chalky consistency with the artificial strawberry flavor was the most disgusting combination he’d ever tasted.
Dammit, Vega was right and if he went back for something else-
Tossing the drink into the trash where it belonged, he decided he would sneak out once he was sure Vega was asleep. No need to embarrass himself further over something like the rumbling of his stomach.
~~~~
Purgatory wasn’t like Afterlife, but that was what made it so appealing to Joker. The music was loud, the drinks were strong, and there was little thinking he could do in this place. Which is exactly how he liked it. The company he acquired that night, however, was another issue.
Jack was sitting with her feet on the table, absorbed in some report from the frontlines. He didn’t expect her to take teaching so seriously, but he liked to be surprised at times. Even with someone nicknamed ‘the Psychotic Biotic.’
“Where the hell is Shepard?” She muttered, tossing the datapad on the table before reaching for her beer. He couldn’t tell what it was by the label but it was definitely not from a human brewery. “He was supposed to meet me here to go over war shit.”
He shrugged, leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He wished he could look as laidback as Jack did even if she was annoyed. But every position was uncomfortable within a few minutes of sitting in it. “Shepard does whatever he wants. He is the boss.”
“He’s not my boss.”
Joker was going to point out that she was officially Alliance personnel now and there might come a time when Shepard would be her boss, but he kept his mouth shut. Jack was the one person he wasn’t willing to antagonize. She could probably kill him with the datapad in front of her. 
Or that stylus she was twirling between her fingers.
“Didn’t say he was. But he’s the most sought after guy in the galaxy right now.” He continued, reaching for his own drink, hoping to avoid talking more before he stuck his foot in his mouth.
Jack rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me that, Flyboy.”
“Hey, that’s a good one!” A voice said over the booming music, directly next to their table. “Mind if I borrow it?”
Eyes wide, Joker glanced up, somehow not surprised to find the familiar brown eyes of James Vega looking back. The marine glanced at him briefly, a smile curling his lips. Joker had to remember to breathe once those eyes were focused on Jack. Where the hell had he come from?
“Borrow what, Muscles?” Jack asked, smirking as she not so subtly checked Vega out. Her gaze roamed over his muscular arms, his chest, pausing to check out his ass and other things. Joker’s hand tightened around the drink he held. “Because I’ll give you anything you want.”
Vega raised an eyebrow at her, returning her grin with his own. “I was talking about the nickname for our pilot here, but I can’t turn down an offer like that.”
Joker sighed, pulling his hat down to avoid seeing the flirting, but unfortunately he could still hear. “Can you take this somewhere else, please? I’d rather not have Vega drool in my beer.”
Jack kicked the table between them, making the drinks wobble dangerously. “Hey, asshole. That’s rude.”
“You’re worried about me being rude?” He snapped, glaring across the small distance at her, feeling his cheeks flush with anger and maybe a little embarrassment. He bit back the next sentence that threatened to spill from his mouth. The Alliance put a collar on you, huh?
“Uh…” James glanced between them as he and Jack stared daggers at each other. “Am I missing something?”
Jack tilted her head slightly, waiting for Joker to explain or to make a joke to diffuse the situation. He refused to do either, hating how easy Jack could get a rise out of him. Damned woman was a pain in the ass.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he glanced away from Jack’s probing gaze and scanned the crowd that gyrated around them. His neck burned, embarrassed at how childish he was being. 
So maybe he wasn’t as ok with being alone as he thought.
“I… uh… have some friends I need to get back to.” James shouted over the music, using his thumb to point at the bar behind him. A bunch of marines dressed in their BDUs were laughing and taking shots, clearly not noticing that Vega wasn’t with them. “But I’ll see you on the ship, man.”
“Yeah.” Joker muttered, although Vega was long gone, melting into the crowd with an ease that made him jealous. If only it could be so easy.
Once the moment passed, he made the mistake of glancing across the table. Jack raised an eyebrow, a shocked laugh leaving her mouth. “Uh, what the fuck was that?”
“Nothing.”
Jack leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, studying him briefly. “I’m not buying the shit you’re selling. What the hell did Muscles do to you?” A smile curled her lips in the next moment and Joker knew he wasn’t going to like what was going to come out of her mouth next. “Wait- are you jealous?”
Joker winced and rubbed his temple, a headache forming behind his eyes. “No.”
Jack laughed, clapping her hands together and relaxing in her seat, a sparkle of mischievous intent in her eyes. “Oh, you are.”
With a disgruntled sigh, Joker pushed the chair back, refusing to be a part of Jack’s games. “I’m going back to the ship.”
Pulling his hat down, Joker tried his best to make it through the crowd before anyone else noticed him. He heard Jack shout something at his back, but he was too far away and the music too loud for him to actually understand what the words were.
He was positive that he should be grateful for that. Jack never had anything good to say.
~~~~
With a sigh that was more of a groan thanks to his aching back, Jeff adjusted his position in an attempt to get comfortable again. He knew he should probably take a break, or a nap, but if he wasn’t pushing himself to the edge, then he wasn’t Jeff Moreau.
“You should rest, Jeff.”
Normally, he would’ve argued, but tonight he was too tired. A long 15 hours of flying on so little sleep from the night before. He should’ve signed off early and gone to crew quarters, but he was stubborn if nothing else. EDI was sitting beside him in that robot body that still gave him the creeps when he caught it out of the corner of his eye.
“Thanks, mom.”
“I am aware that you are using sarcasm, but my intentions are similar to that of a family member. A sister, perhaps.”
“Are you saying you want to be my sister, EDI?”
“I’m saying I care about you, Jeff.”
He sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his flattened hair. “Yeah, I know. Fine. I’ll take a break.”
At the very least, he could eat.
Once the door to the elevator shut, he sank against the wall, letting it hold him up while he rode it down a floor to the crew deck. 
Joker was exhausted. He should just crawl into his bunk and sleep until the next shift, but the muscles in his back burned, his legs shook, and he knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes with the pain. So a pitstop at the medbay was required first. Chakwas would most likely have something to ease his aches.
The doors opened and he tried his best not to hobble, but each step felt like an electric rod was shoved into his calves, sending sharp stabs of agony through every nerve in his body. The medbay was a few feet from the elevator, but he made the trip in double the time he usually did. Vega was in the mess again, the smell of something spicy filling his nostrils as soon as he entered. 
When he crossed the threshold into the medbay, Chakwas glanced up from her terminal, eyes widening. “Jeff. Are you alright?”
He winced, unable to lie to the only doctor he trusted. She treated him more than a patient, more than an experiment. She was like the mother he’d lost all the years ago, patient and kind, but refused to put up with his bullshit. If pressed, he could admit he loved her like one too.
“Sorry for bothering you so late, but uh, I need something for my back.”
Her eyes softened and with a nod, she reached into the drawer next to her, pulling out a small white bottle. She knocked two small white pills into her outstretched hands before holding it out to him. “Take these with a full glass of water. Then get some rest.”
“Aye, aye.” He muttered weakly, giving a half hearted salute before shuffling from the medbay. 
He couldn’t bother with the water. Walking across the mess was too difficult so he swallowed the pills dry, nearly choking on them. With a tired sigh, Joker immediately slipped into a chair, his head colliding with the table. He didn’t even bother with a greeting, needing food and a nap, but having the energy for neither.
“Rough day, Jefe?”
“Something like that.” Turning his head to lay his cheek against the table, he watched as Vega approached with a plate piled high with another food he’d never seen before. “What does that mean? Jefe?”
“Boss.” The soldier slid onto the seat next to him, setting the plate down gently. At eye level, Joker could see whatever the food he’d made was wrapped in a rough yellowish looking paper. He thought it was paper, at least.
“Don’t let Shepard hear you say that. Pretty sure he’ll be offended if you call me that and not him.”
“Nah, Loco likes his nickname. He’s the easiest CO I’ve had.” James leaned against the chair and watched him with… not pity, exactly. Kindness, understanding. Definitely unexpected.
“Yeah, don’t think I’m a Jefe, no offense.”
Vega shrugged as if the entire thing didn’t mean anything to him. But it clearly did since he was still trying to come up with a nickname for Joker that wasn’t his call sign. “None taken.” 
Joker was about to close his eyes when a plate was placed in front of him, the tantalizing smell of food assaulting his nostrils. He sat up slightly, eyeing the food with suspicion. “What is it?”
“A tamale. My Abuela's recipe. Trust me, it’s the best thing you’ll ever put in your mouth.”
His cheeks heated, mind taking a dirtier turn than it really needed to. “Uh, sure it is.” Joker cleared his throat, sitting up as much as he could, but his back twinged painfully, and he pressed a hand against his spine, biting his lip to stop the hiss that wanted to escape.
Silence fell between them, uncomfortable and tense for Joker because he was so out of his element here. With Shepard and EDI, he didn’t have this problem. They would trade barbs, good natured flirting that meant absolutely nothing because it couldn’t. He could banter with the best of them and he was one of the best. But this strange comradeship with James felt more important.
Joker wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Joker lifted the tamale in his hand, rotating it as if it was something requiring inspection. If he was going to eat it, it definitely needed to be edible because it didn’t look that way at all. “Like I could stop you.”
Vega huffed a laugh, watching him fondly. It did nothing for the blush that covered his face. “It’s nothing too weird, I promise.”
“That does nothing to make me feel less suspicious.”
Vega’s smile faltered slightly, but didn’t disappear. Joker didn’t know why that mattered to him. “Are you in pain?”
Joker’s eyes dropped to the plate in front of him. It gave him a reason not to meet Vega’s eyes while he confessed to his weakness. “Is it that obvious?”
The man beside him shifted. He seemed a lot less confident than normal. “I’m not a doctor or anything, but I give a killer massage. If you, uh, ever want to take me up on it.”
Trying to ignore Vega was impossible on the majority of days, but today of all days he wanted to flirt? The stupid jerk was too charming for his own good and didn’t even seem to realize it. And why did Joker actually want to take him up on it?
Joker bit into the food to avoid having to answer, only to come away with a mouth full of the rough covering. He almost gagged at the feel of it in his mouth, stringy and fibrous. 
“You aren’t supposed to eat the husk.”
Spitting it out on the plate, he glared as the marine laughed, tears leaking from his eyes. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Anything for you, Jefe.”
Joker tried to ignore the little flip of his heart at the words.
~~~~
He found James in his usual spot in the shuttle bay, cataloging the weapons that Shepard had picked up on the Citadel. He was quiet for once, no banter with Cortez filling the echoey space. It felt wrong to intrude on Vega’s privacy even if it wasn’t really private at all. This was where he stayed most of his day working and when he wasn’t in the shuttle bay, he was in the mess. It was predictable, comfortable, and Joker found himself looking forward to those shift changes when they chatted at a table with whatever Vega’s feast for the day was.
But he hadn’t shown up tonight.
So here Joker was, standing like an idiot in the shuttle bay waiting for a sign that he should approach. 
He’d been thinking about the offered massage for weeks now. He didn’t know how to bring it up again because it wasn’t something you just asked for. Especially from someone who wasn’t your doctor or physical therapist. 
There hadn’t been an opportunity for it to come up naturally in their conversations and he didn’t want to seem like some weirdo that wanted James to touch him. The idea was ridiculous. Maybe he wanted to see if it helped his back pain, even if only a little. That was enough of a reason, right?
In fact, it was Shepard that mentioned it one day a few weeks back. Joker had been having a particularly nasty day of sitting in that chair for too long and had complained loudly about it. The Commander made an offhand comment about how Vega had good hands for massage and that it’d helped him out on the bad days when he was feeling tense. Once he got over the mental image of James touching his superior officer in such an intimate way, he wondered if maybe he should at least ask. One massage and then they wouldn’t have to mention it again. If James could work out the kinks in his muscles as good as he cooked…
A thought popped into his head as he stood there, staring at James while he worked on a rifle: What if he wanted more massages? Should he pay Vega back for them somehow? He didn’t have credits and Vega was the superior chef-
With a sigh, he turned around, ready to call for the elevator and go bury himself under a pile of pillows in the crew quarters to hide his mortification when the sound of footsteps made him pause, finger hovering over that tiny button. 
Just push it. Do it dammit.
“Hey man, what brings you all the way down here?”
Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest. There was no way he could run now and not look like a freak. His hand dropped from the button and he turned, facing James with as much of a grin as he could muster. It came out as a grimace and James’ eyebrows went up in concern.
“Hey, Vega. Didn’t know you were holed up down here. Pretty sure I hit the wrong button.” He brushed his hand over the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “I meant to go get some food, but ended up here. Sorry to bother you.”
They were stupid, the words that tumbled out of his mouth. He probably should’ve let it go, hit the elevator button and gone back to his chair, but his pain and Shepard’s words had given him a burst of courage. 
When he finally met Vega’s gaze, those dark eyes said so much more than his words could, and Joker immediately knew that he would be sorry if he didn’t follow through. 
Would he embarrass himself? Without a doubt. But if he could get some relief from his awful aches, he’d bear it willingly.
James inspected him briefly, taking in the nervous grin and the slumped shoulders before shaking his head. He didn’t comment on his posture or on the way Joker was clearly attempting to hide the pain he felt with his clenched teeth and pinched expression, the way he shuffled from one foot to the other, how his fingers flexed before he balled them into fists.
“Look, Vega-”
“Call me James.” 
Joker sighed in exhaustion, dropping his gaze to the ground, feeling even more like an idiot. He’d been calling him Vega for so long that he almost forgot he had a first name. With a self deprecating laugh, he rubbed his neck again, hoping that the blush wasn’t obvious in the glaring white lights. “Yeah, ok. James. Listen, I’ve never had many friends before so I don’t know what’s appropriate and what’s not, but-”
“You want one of my massages.” 
It wasn’t a question and Joker found he could only nod, his throat closed up in terror at the idea of someone else knowing him let alone touching him. 
James tried to hide the smile he wore as he turned away, waving Joker to follow him. That was when Joker noticed a small cot set up in the corner, protected by crates on two sides. His own little cozy area where most people probably wouldn’t notice him unless they bumped into him.
“Do you sleep here?” He asked as James began to move some things off of the cot. A rifle, a pair of shorts, a blanket… He piled it on the workbench that waited a few feet away.
“Sometimes. It depends on how much modding Loco needs done on the weapons.” When James faced him again, he noticed that Joker was standing near the cot but hadn’t moved. “Uh, not sure if you want to sit or lay down.”
“I’ll sit.”
The idea of lying in James’ cot and having his hands on him did things to Joker’s body that he didn’t have the brain power to examine. So instead, he sat, the fabric of the cot gently lowering slightly with his weight. He shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable. Once he finished fussing, James sat behind him, doing the same for a moment while the cot tried to accommodate both of them.
“Um, do you mind not crushing me in your gorilla hands?” Joker managed with a strangled squeak, trying not to sound too terrified. “I break easily.”
James coughed, clearly attempting to cover a laugh. “I got you, Halcón.”
The question about what his newest nickname meant died on his lips as soon as James touched him. It was soft at first, a brush of fingertips as James prodded the muscles in his back and shoulders, looking for the majority of the tension. When he found a particularly nasty spot, he pressed his fingers in, making small circles into his skin with the practiced ease of a professional.
Joker bit his lip, his eyes slipping closed. There was still pain, but as James worked, relaxation settled in his muscles and Joker felt himself sagging under the weight of his exhaustion. James moved on to another spot, pressing his fingers in enough to release the tension, but not enough to injure him.
Joker sighed happily, leaning back slightly, enjoying the sensation of James’ fingers running along his spine, brushing against his shoulder, accidently touching the skin of his side when his shirt shifted. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in years. Definitely before he began flying for the Normandy.
James cleared his throat.
That’s when Joker noticed the warmth at his back and James’ breath against his neck. He stiffened immediately, the entire length of his body pressing into the marine’s solid chest. Vega’s hands weren’t massaging him anymore, but were instead resting against his waist, as if he was embracing him.
Joker would’ve jumped away if he was physically capable. He untangled himself from Vega’s arms, cheeks burning, hoping he didn’t do anything weirder than that. 
As if it could get weirder, dumbass.
“Uh, sorry.” He managed, glancing at James from the corner of his eye. When he realized that the marine wasn’t looking in his direction, he faced him with a little more dignity than he thought he was capable of.
James glanced at his hands awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes. Probably for the best. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’m going to finish these mods, if that’s cool.”
Joker didn’t get a word in before Vega was gone, turning his back on him to hunch over the workbench. Joker tried to ignore the sudden longing to feel James press against his body again.
~~~~
Joker hovered outside of the medbay doors, anxiety causing his hands to shake and his heart to pound, one single thought in his mind: His friendship with James went way beyond the normal boundaries that friends had and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“He’s alright, Jeff.” EDI’s voice said softly from overhead. 
“Yeah.”
“Jeff, your heart rate-”
“I’m fine, EDI.” He ground out, trying his hardest to control his anxiety and anger. It was so fucked. On the other side of those doors-
Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the fear, reminding himself that they were safe, alive. Shepard had returned, Tali had returned and James…
Balancing the plate in his hands, he stepped closer to the door, waiting for the sensor to acknowledge the movement. As the doors parted, he was greeted by the white, sterile medbay, quiet and still except for the hum of the AI core. Chakwas had gone to bed long ago, the shades pulled close to give its patient some modicum of privacy. He stepped inside, eyes trained on the only occupied bed.
The team had returned from Rannoch, mostly in one piece. Tali and Shepard had a few burns from Geth rifles on their armor, exhausted from the ground fight with a fucking Reaper. James had been rushed to Chakwas, having taken a bad hit to the head and all he could think about was the possibility that he was going to lose him.
He isn’t yours to lose.
Swallowing past the lump of terror in his throat, Joker set the plate down on the small table near the bed, taking care to not knock over the mug of water or the painkillers that Chakwas had put out.
Joker watched him for a moment, taking in the hard planes of his face, the chiseled jaw and soft brow, all covered in bruising, and he closed his eyes, holding back tears. He was such an idiot. All of those months when he and James sat together, ate together, had their poker nights or when James would offer him a massage, it meant so much more than either of them realized.
He hoped he wasn’t too late.
Taking a deep breath through his nose and releasing it out of his mouth, Joker opened his eyes, only to find James watching him with that fond expression he’d gotten so used to. There was a question in James’ gaze, lips curling into a smile the longer the silence stretched.
“I brought you something to eat.” Joker said, trying to sound somewhat put together, but he could hear the strangled way his voice came out. “I mean, if you want.”
James’s eyes glanced over at the plate before returning to him. “Smells good. What is it?”
“Oh, an old recipe my mom used to make me when I was sick. Uh, not that you’re sick. It just makes me feel better and I thought it would make you feel better. And now I’m assuming things-
He trailed off, leaving the things he should be saying aloud unsaid. 
When he didn’t continue, James cleared his throat, trying to peek at the plate. “You didn’t say what it was and I am hungry.”
Joker let out a small laugh, his heart settling into a steady rhythm that wasn’t going to kill him. “It’s spezzatino. My mom used to live in Italy before she and dad met. Told me stories about how her mom used to make it for her… when she was sick.”
James watched him as his words failed, leaving him staring at the food. “Are you ok?”
“Me?” Joker had to stop himself from exploding in anger. Did he not realize how close it’d been? “You’re the one who almost got crushed by a fucking Reaper.”
He gripped the spoon tightly in his fist, trying to steady his shaking hands. James shifted his body so that he could sit and covered Jeff’s hand with his own, squeezing gently, affectionately, and it took a minute for Joker to find it in himself to release his hold.
The spoon clattered against the plate.
“I’m ok, querido.” He whispered, pulling Joker on the bed and wrapping him in his arms. Joker took in a shaky breath, burying his face in James’ chest, feeling all at once like he’d come home and terrified that he almost lost the most important person in his life. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don't know that.” Joker mumbled, refusing to let go of James even if his voice could barely be heard. “I don’t know that either. The Normandy could get hit, I could-”
James ran a hand down his back, his touch as soothing as it’d been the first time and he immediately quieted. “No matter what happens the next time I go down there, I’m going to fight like hell to come back. No Reapers is going to take me from you, Jeff.”
James had never called him by his first name before.
His body protested the movement but he left the safety and warmth of James’ arms so that he could meet his gaze, a smirk on his face. “Didn’t know you even knew my name.”
James laughed, leaning forward to press his lips against Joker’s. He stiffened instinctively, unsure how to respond at first, his brain shutting off at the touch. When James pulled back, concerned and a little disappointed, Joker felt a sudden surge of courage. He moved quicker than he expected that he could, grabbing James by the neck and pulling him closer.
Their mouths met again, first kisses wet and clumsy and rushed, tongues dancing imperfectly against the other. Joker was pretty sure his teeth were chipped after a weird movement had their teeth colliding. But they settled in a rhythm of give and take, each learning how the other liked to kiss.
When they finally parted, their heavy breaths filled the silence.
“What does querido mean?” He asked a minute or two later, slipping his hand into James and admiring how, despite their size difference, they fit together so perfectly.
James coughed a laugh, running his free hand over his face. “Uh, it means beloved.”
Joker’s face heated, but he couldn’t stop the grin that appeared even if he wanted to. He’d always been so afraid of this, of letting someone into his heart, to let them know him as more than Joker. But James managed to wiggle his way past his walls and he wasn’t afraid anymore.
“That’s the one.”
James tilted his head curiously, eyes crinkling in confusion. That ever present smile was still lingering: beautiful, perfect, and safe.
“My nickname. That’s the one I want.” Joker pressed another kiss to James’ lips, feeling the marine respond in kind. “I love it.”
James dropped Joker’s hand before pulling him closer, gentle and sure as ever. “I’m yours, querido. As long as you want me.”
Wrapping his arms around James’ neck, Joker pressed a light kiss along the bruises on his cheek, above his eye before finishing at his mouth. He heard the sharp breath James pulled in and he grinned, in disbelief that he could have this. “I want you. And I, uh…” He trailed off, blush burning his cheeks and neck. “I’m yours too, if you want.”
With a soft chuckle, James brushed a hand against his cheek, fingers trailing over the rough hair of his beard. “I want to.”
His heart hammered against his ribs, anxious and afraid for a brief moment. When he calmed down, let his body realize it didn’t need to run from this. I want this. He felt like his smile would split his face if it got any bigger. 
It wasn’t ‘I love you’, but this thing between them was new, all of it. And when Jeff thought about it later, laying in his bunk and grinning like an idiot teenager, he realized those words meant more to him than any ‘I love you’ could.
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gremlinbehaviour · 8 months
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Shannon starts to have an asthma attack while she and Sayid are walking to their secluded beach date location, but thankfully Sayid now knows what to do about it
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koolkat9 · 2 years
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The Ultimatum
Rating: T
Relationship: England + Wales
Word Count: 1028
Thank you @froggi-mushroom and @maryeve-the-bitch for helping me come up with the cat’s name. 
Arthur had been given an ultimatum: go to therapy or get a pet. He didn’t feel like he needed either, but he had always been a sucker for animals. If getting a pet would get Dylan off his back for a little while, Arthur would be more than happy to get one.
“We’re here,” Dylan cheered as they pulled into the parking lot of Battersea.
Arthur gave an unimpressed look. He may have liked the idea of a pet (and getting Dylan to relax), but he didn’t like the fact he was being forced to do this for his “well-being.” But Arthur’s resistance didn’t seem to affect his brother. The British Isles' stubbornness was just as strong in Dylan as it was in the rest of his siblings, even if Dylan was the last sibling anyone expected to show it. There was no arguing with him when he was like this, so with a sigh, Arthur got out of the car and followed his older brother inside.
As Dylan talked to the receptionist, Arthur’s gaze wandered over to the door leading to the cats. “Dogs or cats?” Dylan asked.
Arthur shrugged. “Whatever you think is best.”
The Welsh man’s smile faltered slightly, but he wrapped an arm around his brother and started leading him towards the dogs. “You like foxes right? Their canines so perhaps a dog would be good for you.” Arthur couldn’t argue with that logic.
But as soon as he entered the room and was greeted by friendly barks and energetic dogs jumping up at the glass to get attention, Arthur felt drained. Though he had always liked dogs and found each one here as cute as the last, the idea of taking one home and all the work and energy he would have to put in to take care of them seemed like too daunting of a task. Dylan, thinking this was just a scheme to get out of the whole pet thing, encouraged Arthur to at least meet a few dogs.
Though meeting the dogs didn’t do anything to convince Arthur that they were the right fit for him, he couldn’t deny he left in a way better mood. Playing and cuddling with the furry balls of energy definitely did wonders. Too bad a dog demanded so much attention.
“Cats then?” Dylan asked, his cheeriness diminishing slightly.
“I guess so…”
Now the cat area was much more to Arthur’s liking. Though some cats meowed for attention as the two brothers passed by, it wasn’t as nearly overbearing as the barking. Many came to greet them at the glass, rubbing against it as if searching for pets. Dylan immediately crouched down, cooing at a small black cat who was actively meowing and pawing at the glass. Arthur smiled ever so slightly at the sight.
While his brother made a new friend, Arthur wandered further down the hall, looking over each cat as he went. As he approached the last few enclosures, he came across a cat laying at the farthest corner of his pen. He looked like a British Shorthair though he was likely a mixed breed, with caramel brown fur. Arthur huffed in amusement at the sight. Looks like he wasn’t the only one not wanting to be here.
“I don’t know if you’d want to see that one,” the woman who had been helping them noted. “He wasn’t the most friendly, to begin with, but he recently lost his brother and seems to dislike people even more now.”
“Him and me both,” Arthur muttered, crouching down to get a better look.
The cat’s ears perked up and twitched at the sound of the humans. He turned his head, an unimpressed look on his face, but as soon as he spotted Arthur, his attitude seemed to change. Hesitantly, he rose from his spot and crept over to the glass. He looked up at Arthur with wide golden eyes. “Well then…” The woman said in awe, “I guess he wants to meet you.”
The woman opened the enclosure, and before she could pick the cat up, he darted over to Arthur. The Brit scooped him up in his arms, the cat clinging to him, paws around his neck rubbing against Arthur’s face.
If anyone noticed how Arthur’s heart melted as the cat cuddled into him, he would say peacetime had made him soft. But the way the small creature clung to him, the knowledge he had been through so much made something stir deep inside Arthur. Comradery. He was certain of it.
“We were worried about him for so long,” the woman went on, “He’s been…He’s been very depressed since his brother’s passing, and that’s not good for cats.”
Arthur’s heart clenched. He pulled the cat closer to him, rubbing his back as he rocked him back and forth. “I’ll take him,” Arthur said without a second thought.
“What?” both the woman and Dylan said in unison.
“I’ll take him,” Arthur said, swallowing the lump in his throat, “Today if I can.”
“Oh of course!” the woman cheered, “I’ll get the paperwork if you’d follow me to the front.”
Throughout the whole process, the cat would not let go of Arthur. When the receptionist tried to take him and put him in a crate, the cat just hissed and dug his claws into Arthur’s shirt. Arthur assured her that he was fine just taking him out like this if that was alright.
“Normally I wouldn’t, but I think this is a special case,” she replied, smiling at the two of them.
Though it was hard to sign the papers with the large ball of fur in his arms, Arthur managed. “What are you going to call him?” Dylan asked as Arthur reached the blank for the name.
“Hmm…” Arthur looked down at the cat in his arms. “Biscuit.” It was a little basic, sure, but his colouring reminded Arthur of biscuits.
“Awww!” Dylan squealed.
After a few minutes of signing, Biscuit was cleared to go home. “Looks like I’m driving again,” Dylan chuckled, scratching Biscuit behind his ears. But Arthur had barely heard him, too lost in the soothing purr of his new baby.
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mumbos-waffle · 2 years
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day something fictober prompts!
today is “do i frighten you?”
The hermits watched as grian spawn in, he had previously taken a tour on the server and been interviewed. Everyone had met him, so when he spawn in, not a human but with wings almost 5 times the size of him and eyes spread over his body, they were surprised. Grian looked around at the scared faces, most with their hands on the swords that sat on their side. He nervously chuckles “hey guys'' he stuttered looking down at himself. Xisuma makes a ‘back off’ motion with his hand towards the group, “grian? You said you were human mate?” grian scratched the back of his neck,
 “Well about that,” he folded his wings as close to his body as he could and closed the extra eyes, “I'm not.”  xisuma noticed his shaky hands and shallow breaths, he needed to de-escalate this. “Okay, thats okay, we just would've rather known incase we need to change anything around the server!” he smiled trying to get ‘it's all good!’ across “like when etho joined,” he pointed at the robotic man “we needed to know so we could tell everyone to be careful with water around him!” 
“Huh” he frowned “sorry i guess- i just thought you guys might be put off by the whole” he motioned to his eyes “thing…” Xisuma smiled and assured him it was fine.
He sat by mumbo admiring his bat wings, “youre so cool mumbo!” he giggled, “oh gosh, stop it, i'm turning pink!” They both laughed a bit and continued talking about whatever, grian had been on the server for a few months by now, he hasn't taken his wings out again, even though the server assured him it was fine he was afraid he'd get called things or he'd scare people. He trusted mumbo though “mumbo? Can I uhm- show my wings?” he felt silly asking it, and he sounded like a child asking their mother for sweets. mumbo looked frightened at the subject but immediately agreed. Mumbo watched in awe as his friends' wings faded into existence, the night sky building them out of nothing.
Mumbo thought they were beautiful but a million ugly words came flooding into his mind simply because he knew what grian was. He didnt voice any of them, instead settling for a ‘woah’ he was afraid silence would speak volumes. They continued talking but mumbo couldn't get it out of his mind, his new friend was a watcher, the most feared, and definitely not supposed to talk and live with people. “Are you afraid of me?” grian asked out of the blue, mumbo panicked a bit “no- of course not! There's tons of non-human people on this server! Me included!”  grian looked skeptical 
“Yea but none of them are watchers'' the words hung in the air, “okay- fine, yes, you do scare me a bit, ive never seen a-” he swallowed his spit, as a kid he was always taught not to say the word, it was childish to still hold on to this sentiment. “Watcher before, it's just kind of shocking” he cringed at his own words feeling worse when grian looked a bit down 
“its something I need to get past. I'm pretty feared myself, you know?” He smiled revealing the sharp teeth in his mouth “i'm a vampire! Only a few people on the server know, when I joined we were still being hunted! Xisuma is a kind man though” 
Grian looked comforted by mumbos ramblings, mumbo was glad. They had both learned a few things that day. 
1: they could trust eachother 
2: they could trust xisuma
And 3: they were both wanted criminals 
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maiisy · 2 years
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its Ei’s birthday so i wrote a little eimiko oneshot,,,,
gotta love that shameless self promotion
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otaku6337 · 2 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless Characters: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Mentioned others Additional Tags: POV Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless Friendship, Slice of Life, Flying, Platonic Soulmates, Toothless and Hiccup consider themselves soul-sharers in a sense, tagging a new fandom is always so hard, Protective Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Supportive Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Hurt Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, only very slightly though - Freeform, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III Has Chronic Pain, why was that not a tag honestly, Sleepy Cuddles, honestly the way these two cuddle has my entire heart, who needs a bed when you have a dragon, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Fluff, Toothless is very soft for Hiccup, they're best friends yall, Intelligent Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon) Series: Part 224 of Ota's One-Shot Wonders Summary:
It is not a human thing, it is not a dragon thing, it is a them. It is the feel of Hiccup's hand, un-scaled and soft and vulnerable and kind, against Toothless' snout, the not-quite claws digging in with something good. (It is connection and aching and wonder and how-could-this-be, never-let-it-change. It is rider and dragon and friend. It is their soul in the edges where scales meet skin.)
~~~
A day in the life of Toothless and his Hiccup, just some slice of life from Toothless' pov!
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evanbuckleyrecs · 9 months
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Title: All That's Left To Find (Is Peace of Mind)
Written by: agustmoons
Rated: no rating
Catagories: m/m
Warnings: none
Relationships: Buck/Eddie
Tags: established relationship, established evan 'buck' buckley/eddie diaz, secret relationship, married evan 'buck' buckley/eddie diaz, theyre married but buck hasnt told anyone, army eddie diaz, eddie is deployed and buck isnt handling it well, worried evan 'buck' buckley, someone give this guy a hug, please, reunions, coming home, theyre so in love your honor, idiots in love, no beta we die like eddies heterosexuality, tiny bit of angst, if you squint your eyes, minor hurt/comfort
Words: 8,362
Summary:
A still warm kernel thumps lightly against Buck’s temple and it’s his last straw. “What the fuck is your problem, Han?” He demands, rounding on the paramedic currently tucked away in an armchair, popcorn bowl balanced precariously on his chest and knees.
“Your dumb, grumpy face. What’s got you all wound up, anyways? You look like someone took a shit in your cereal this morning.” Chim says, waving a hand in his direction.
___________
Eddie's deployed and Buck is /handling it/. He's not freaking out, definitely not.
Well, he wasn't. Until his contact with Eddie is cut off and he's left alone, wondering what could have happened.
My notes: I love army Eddie fics so much and this one did not disappoint at all! I absolutely adored this, I smiled and I cried. Beautiful.
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wallfl0wer-babe · 1 month
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I Chose You (Satoru Gojo x AFABReader) 18+
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18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Content Warning- Unprotected sex, cunnilingus, virginity loss, handjob, fingering, impregnation
Angst Warning: Satoru sucks at communication and feelings.
Synopsis: An arranged marriage with Satoru Gojo seemed perfect, after all you'd known each other since you were children and loved him since your days at Jujutsu Tech. The way he had treated you the day and night of your wedding had led you to believe he felt the same way, that is until everything changed after consummating your marriage.
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It had been over a month since your wedding and Satoru had showed no interest in touching you since then. The marriage had been arranged, but seeing as the two of you had grown up together and always had a close bond you had hoped he might love you at least a little bit. You'd been hopelessly in love with the man since you were teenagers attending Jujutsu High, so despite the fact that your clan had decided to marry you off without a single care for your wishes you found yourself elated, and the way he had looked at you as you walked down the aisle and said your vows, the way he had kissed you with so much passion, and the way he had made love to you on your wedding night all left you believing he felt the same way.
You felt foolish to have believed such a thing come the next morning, remembering how you had awakened to an empty bed only to find him asleep on the couch and when you asked him to return to the bed, placing a soft hand on his shoulder, he acted as if he'd been touched by something appalling and insisted he was more than fine before you disturbed him. Since then he'd gone out of his way to avoid you.
You were suddenly interrupted from your sulking and solemn thoughts as an intense nausea came crashing down on you and left you scrambling for the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach, your attendants rushing to your side at the sound of your ill state.
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"What is it?" Satoru asked, at the sound of the polite knocking on his office door. His eyes still on his paperwork as he waited for the house attendant to spit out whatever it was they had to say. "Sorry to bother you sir, but it's your wife." This had Satoru's eyes shooting up from his paperwork to the face of the attendant, the mere mention of you having captured his whole attention. "what about my wife?" His voice was threatening, leaving the attendant more intimidated than they already were. "Her attendants simply wanted for me to let you know she's fallen ill and ask if you'd like to call her a doctor?" The attendants voice was shaking as the expression on Satoru's face darkened after hearing you were unwell. "Have someone call for a doctor immediately, and report back to me what they say." The attendant nodded and bowed, hurrying to leave before Satoru stopped them. "Make sure a female doctor is called." He said with an edge to his voice, the idea of a man examining you putting a bad taste in his mouth. "Yes, sir." The skittish attendant fled from the room, gently shutting the door behind them.
Tipping back in his chair, Satoru let out a long sigh, worry piecing his heart. He did his best to return to his work but his mind kept wandering back to you no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away. His shockingly blue eyes seemed to unconsciously drift over to the picture frame on his desk. The photo of the two of you on your wedding day. The sight of it made his heart flutter and bile rise in his throat simultaneously. You looked absolutely stunning in your white gown, the fine fabric hugging your body perfectly and your veiil beautifully framing your face graced with a soft smile. You were the epitome of what a bride should be, gorgeous in every way. He had never seen a sight more beautiful than you looking up at him so sweetly, adorned in white, as you exchanged vows sealed with a kiss, in his life. It was how you came to wed him that repulsed him so much, made him so repulsed with himself.
When his clan and the higher ups in Jujutsu Society started pushing him to marry it wasn’t hard to convince them you would be prime choice. You were young, of high position from a well respected and strong clan, and had a reputation as a skilled sorceress. Not to mention you were strikingly beautiful and your family was notorious for its fertile woman, meaning you would be able to produce many strong heirs, a factor the Gojo clan and higher ups were greatly pleased with. None of this was the actual reason Satoru wanted to take you as a wife, but the leaders of his clan and the higher ups could’ve cared less about his true motivations, you were the perfect candidate for an arranged marriage with him, considering this would strengthen the very beneficial alliance your two clans shared and produce a new line of Gojo's carrying the blood of the strongest.
It came as no surprise to Satoru when your clan accepted the proposal for an arranged marriage with you, there was no downside to a marriage proposal with the strongest sorcerer, and he knew you would never object when it came to what was best for your clan. His conscience hadn’t been a problem throughout all of this, it wasn’t until after your wedding night, after he had officially claimed you as his wife, that it chose to torment him with guilt and self-disgust.
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His throat bobbed as he stared down at you kneeling on his bed, his eyes trailing over your body scantily clad in white lace that left nothing to the imagination, existing only to make you more tempting, if that could even be possible. You awkwardly shifted on the bed, curling into yourself in a unsuccessful attempt of covering your body, much to Satoru's displeasure. “We don’t have to do anything Suguru, it’s just some stupid practice in my clan for the ladies already wed to dress up the woman for her and her new husbands wedding night. Just let me go change and I’ll go to the guest ro-oomph! You were aggressively pulled back into the lap of a flushed and smirking Satoru. “What makes you think I don’t want to ravish my pretty wife? Especially when she’s all dolled up just for me.” You gasped at the feeling of him grinding into you with his rock hard cock. “See what you do to me pretty girl? See how badly I want to bury my cock into that sweet pussy? Hah fuck!~ You gonna take responsibility like a good little wife?”
“Yes Satoru, want to be a good wife, your good wife, please~” 
“Fuck yeah beautiful, that’s right you're my wife, all mine to adore, devour, and fuck." Hungrily nipping at your neck, Satoru moved his hand from your stomach to pull your thighs apart before dipping two of his long and thick fingers into your tight and dripping heat, tearing a moan of pleasure from your throat. “I’ll have to thank those women later for getting you all nice and pretty for me, I thought it was a struggle to contain myself when I saw you in the pretty white dress, but that’s nothing compared to this.”  The way you looked up at him through your lashes adoringly, your lips slightly parted was something out of the lewd fantasies he’d been fucking his fist to since he was a horny teenager.
“S’toru” you slurred, pushing down his sweatpants and wrapping your hand around his thick throbbing cock. “Fuuhuck gorgeous~” Satoru groaned at the feeling of your soft hand groping his painfully throbbing cock. He spat a glob of spit onto your cunt and began to rub your clit with his thumb, reveling in the lewd sloppy sounds your pussy made as he curled his fingers inside. You let out a string of whimpers at the stimulation, the knot of your release tightening almost painfully in your stomach. “Fuck baby you’re gripping my fingers so nicely can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” “S’toru please~” you whined, releasing your grip on on his cock and instead digging your nails into his biceps as you teetered on the edge. “I know gorgeous. I got you just let go.” With a final caress of you clit and curling of his fingers that hit your sweet spot you felt your orgasm finally wash over you, leaving your body thrumming in ecstasy. “So good for me, my pretty little wife.” Satoru praised as he admired the way your juices soaked his hand. He couldn’t help but groan as he sucked your delicious essence off one of his fingers.
You let out a surprised yelp as he suddenly gripped your hips and maneuvered your body so your pussy hovered above his mouth. “As much as I want to stuff this pretty pussy, first I need to get a taste of you.” “S’toru hold on-" Satoru paid no mind to you objection, immediately roughly gripping your hips and forcing your sex down onto his eagerly awaiting mouth. The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of your moans and slurping noises from Satoru feasting on your cunt with scary enthusiasm. The melody that left your lips from his ministrations only fueling him to intensify the sensual movements of his tongue as he lapped at the juices overflowing from your cunt with a groan.
He grunted at the feeling of you digging your nails into his abs, the sting a welcome pain combined with the way you were suffocating him with your thighs as he sucked your clit into his salivating mouth, letting out a muffled laugh at your squeal when he lightly grazed it with his teeth. “S’toru, gonna…gonna” your threw your head back as your vision went white, Satoru's firm grip on your hips tightening as he hungrily gulped down the sweet nectar of your release, uncaring for the lack of oxygen he was receiving. Reluctantly he lifted your body off him carefully, laying you onto the sheets before caging in your body with his own. The temptation to feel you around his cock the only reason he was able to bring himself up for air.
“Your taste is addictive sweetheart.” He said with a quick peck to your lips, the both of you exchanging gazes of pure adoration. “Are you ready to take me my love?” His voice full of tenderness as he caressed your waist. Doing your best to keep the intimidatation from showing on your face at his impressive length that could easily tear apart your virgin pussy, you meekly nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up at the way he gently kissed the palm of your hand in reassurance before grasping your waist and slowly sliding his cock into your weeping heat. The feeling of your walls clenching around his tip tearing a low groan from his throat.
The sting of the foreign intrusion had tears blurring your vision as you bit your trembling lip to keep from wailing out as the elder women of your clan had warned you against doing so as to not be bothersome. Such didn’t seem to be the case with Satoru however, as he halted his movements to allow you to adjust to his size and lovingly kissed away the few stray tears you had failed to hold back. He captured your lips in a kiss of dizzying passion, remenants of your essence and the saltiness of your tears still on his tongue that danced so lewdly with your own. “We don't have to continue if you don't want to gorgeous” Satoru softly said as he cradled your face, his lips a whisper away from reconnecting with yours once more.
Closing the short distance and Capturing his lips in a quick few pecks you shook your head “It’s not that, I simply need a moment is all, I’m sorry.” Satoru scoffed, filling your heart with a brief worry that you had married a selfish lover like the bitter women of your clan. “There's no need to apologize. What sort of husband would I be if I failed to give my wife the pleasure she deserves?” Your worries quickly washed away at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him down, capturing his lips in a sloppy heartfelt kiss, grateful that Satoru had been the one decided to be your husband.
After a few minutes the painful burn turned into a pleasurable ache and you began to grind against him for the friction your body desperately craved. “Does my needy wife want some help?” Satoru asked, giving a few slow teasing thrusts with a playful smirk. You whimpered, your desperate expression making his cock twitch. Unable to deny you, much less himself any longer he began to to rock into you with deep passionate thrusts, letting out a growl at the feeling of your nails raking down his broad back, marking the muscular canvas as yours.
The way your gummy walls deliciously wrapped around his cock had him feeling lightheaded as his thrusts grew more violent, his cockhead ruthlessly battering your cervix like it was trying to force itself into your fertile womb. The room was filled with the lewd animalistic sounds of Satoru obsessively rutting into you and your moans and his groans increasing in volume as you both approached your highs. “Need ya to cum for me sweet girl, needit so bad!” He growled, his thrusts growing sloppy as he tried to resist filling you up until you came for him. The knot in your abdomen grew tighter as he began massaging your clit with his thumb, shockwaves shooting through your spine at the sudden added stimulation. "Fill me up, please!" you begged, trapping his pelvis against yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Holy-Holy Fuck!" Satoru's eyes rolled back as the idea of flooding your womb with his seed, the idea of claiming you fully. With a final rough thrust that he buried inside you, its head crammed against your cervix as sweat dripped from your bodies as your releases finally washed over you. “Ngh, fuck!” Satoru groaned as your walls greedily milked his twitching cock for every drop of his potent seed, turning his already mind all ready foggy from pleasure to mush. You weren’t fairing much better as your body twitched in pleasure, your own release soaking Satoru's torso as exhaustion threatened to steal your consciousness.
Giving a tender kiss to your forehead Satoru gently pulled out of your spent cunt, painted with his seed that messily dripped out onto the sheets. “Rest sweet wife” he whispered before making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up and retrieve a wet washcloth. Upon returning he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form, looking so radiant and peaceful. Unexpectedly a pang of guilt stabbed his heart, the true gravity of what he had done weighing down on him. How could he claim to love you when he had forced you into a marriage with no regard for how you felt. He was too selfish to ever be deserving of you or your love, after all your entire marriage was built on his lies and manipulations. With his heart heavy with guilt he hurriedly cleaned you up before retreating to the living room. As he lay on the cold leather of the couch he decided he would no longer force his selfish love onto you, and would allow you to live without the binds of the marriage he had forced you into against your knowledge. 
After a restless night he was tortured with a greater regret and guilt as you, with your immeasurable beauty and kindness had regarded him with such a caring nature only for him to return it with venom. He knew that as long as he gave you a smidge of hope that you could fix things  you would do everything in your power to do so, so he forced himself through the pain of pretending to be a cold and uncaring husband in hopes you would eventually go back to living freely, disregarding your marriage with him. 
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Your eyes scanned for flaws in plaster of the walls as you made another fruitless attempt to calm your mind. The news the doctor had given you that for most would have meant pure joy only seemed to be another cruel joke in your unhappy new life. You wanted nothing more to celebrate the news like other women did, but couldn't find any reason to do so considering you were in a broken marriage with a husband who seemed lack even a hint of fondness for you, much less love. You didn't even make an effort to look who had knocked on the door and entered, uttering only a tired "enter" the familiar voice of the guest instantly making you regret your invitation to let the person in. "The doctor told me you're pregnant, is that true?" You nearly flinched at how eerily calm your husband sounded at the news that had left you in such a wrecked state. He let out a sigh at your lack of response. “Would you at least look at me?” Rage boiled up inside you at the words, so desperate as if he wasn’t the one who neglected you and regarded your existence with disdain the entirety of the marriage. You turned to face him, your eyes swollen from crying and your body trembling from intense rage and hurt. Satoru felt like someone had stomped on his heart at the sight of your broken state, the state his selfishness had reduced you to.  
“Your behavior had led me to believe that you despised the sight of me and the sound of my voice so forgive me for trying to spare you from it.”  
“Sweetheart-“ 
“Don’t you dare, don’t you dare pretend to care now when all you have done our entire marriage is play with my feelings and hurt me. I am sorry you were forced into marrying me, but I didn’t get a choice either and I still tried so hard because I thought I was lucky to marry someone I actually loved and I thought could love me back. But you have made it abundantly clear that you don’t feel the same, so don’t you dare pretend to love me too, openly hating me is less cruel than that.” Your chest heaved from lack of breath, more hot tears running down your cheeks. Satoru could only stand there in shock as he tried to process your words and your pained confession. His silence was the worst response, worse than a harsh rejection, silence meant feelings were so worthless they weren’t even deserving of a response, you thought as you buried your body in the comforter waiting for him to leave. It seemed like hours had passed when you felt the bed dip beside you as he trapped your body in a tight embrace, his head buried in your neck. “What are you-“ 
“I wasn’t forced, I chose you.” He spoke, his voice muffled by the comforter but never more serious and clear. “Satoru” you sighed, only to be interrupted once again, his voice sounding more desperate. “The higher up’s and my clan wanted to arrange a marriage for me, but I was the one who chose you. I’ve always loved you, I wouldn’t have married anyone else, I was worried the only way I could have you was through an arranged marriage. I’m sorry I thought you deserved better than a life where you were forced to be my wife that’s why I treated you so horribly, I thought you’d move on from me, but I have always loved you, you’re the only person I have and will ever love, I swear on my life and my clan that is the truth.” His heart threatened to burst out of his chest as he received only silence for a response, the dew minutes that followed a quiet torture. “Sucks doesn’t it.” 
“What-“ 
“Pouring your heart out only to have your partner torture with a lack of response.” You said with a teasing tone. “I was trying to process.”
 “You could’ve said that.”
“Then I’d sound stupid.” 
“For fucks sake you have the maturity and communication skills of a child you know that.” 
“I do not.” Satoru pouted. 
“This whole mess happened because you couldn’t grow a pair and confess to me like a normal person.” 
“I did eventually.” 
“Yeah after you convinced my clan into an arranged marriage and knocked me up.” 
“I said I was sorry.” 
“I’d hit you if I wasn’t so tired.” 
“Let me kiss your pretty face and make up for it please.” 
“It’s not very pretty right now because of you.” “
That’s not true, you’re always pretty, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” You let out a long sigh before pulling the comforter off your head, met with the sight of a beaming Satoru who eagerly attacked your face with kisses. “So so pretty, the prettiest wife, you’re gonna be the prettiest mama too.” 
“Satoru, stop!” you shrieked as he rolled your body on top of his, capturing your lips in a soft and tender kiss that had you melting into him. “I’m so glad you’re my wife.” He whispered, burying his head into your neck. “I’m glad you’re my husband.” You whispered back, as you both enjoyed the shared warmth, you drifted off in each other’s embrace. Enjoying the first peaceful sleep you shared since your marriage knowing your loved were requited and the child in your womb would be born into a loving and not broken home. 
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fcthots · 7 months
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I read a fic that jason wakes up middle of the night and thinks reader left him…
Wanna hug him and tell i wont leave him ever and if he wanna rid of me he should kill me
(sorry if i couldn’t make myself clear English is not my native language )
I too desperately want to comfort him
He doesn’t fully remember the nightmare, but his body craves comfort, routine, something, anything to stop the panic. He flips over and reaches for you like he always does, but you aren't there. You left him. You left him like Bruce left him to die in that dream. And he's crying so hard he can't breathe. Fuck, he cant breathe, and he's choking. You left him. You left him. He literally can't breathe without you. He's shaking, unsure of what to do.
You walk into the bedroom holding a bag of chips. When you see the state he's in, you abandon the chips, tossing them onto the corner of the bed as you rush over to him. He wraps his arms around you, tight, sobbing into your chest. You reach one arm around his back, rubbing up and down in an attempt to soothe him, and bring the other around his neck, cradling his head.
The crying is wordless for a long time. He sobs and struggles to catch his breath, refusing to move his face out of your shirt. You try to reassure him. "It's ok. You're ok. 'M right here. Shh. You're alright. I promise. I've got you."
When the sobbing slows into sniffling, you pulls his face back and cradle it in your hands. "What's wrong, baby? What happened?"
He doesn’t meet you eyes as he quietly responds, "thought you left me.." he sniffles in a breath and moves you onto the bed so you straddle him, and buries his face into your neck.
"I would never leave you, ok? I was just getting something to eat; I promise." His body wracks with a few silent sobs and you bury your face into his hair.
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Text
Thought Sonic Prime's ending didn't give us enough so I'm making my own!
After finally restoring the Shatterverse, Sonic is settling back into Green Hill. But he's still worried about all the friends he left behind in the Shatterverse. Especially Nine, who he left behind to a life living alone in the Grim. Suddenly Shadow shows up with something to show Sonic. Could it be that there's a way to return into the Shatterverse and make sure everyone is okay?
I'll be adding at least one more chapter after this and hopefully more!
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pricklenettle · 5 months
Text
Parent's Ghost
This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine
The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?
WC: 4,795
AO3 link
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Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.
He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him. 
He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework. 
Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet. 
Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up. 
It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch. 
The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back. 
“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light. 
Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters. 
“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes. 
He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”
“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”
Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”
Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”
“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun. 
“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.
Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”
“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”
Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust. 
“No good, Mad’s?”
Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”
“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”
“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire. 
Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder. 
Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground. 
Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air. 
Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring. 
He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight. 
The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves. 
Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.
“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim. 
Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper. 
Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord. 
Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air. 
He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.
***
“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball. 
He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.
The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance. 
Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?
Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that. 
There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed. 
He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green. 
Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.
***
The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm. 
Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care. 
He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.
***
He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed  through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.
Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes. 
“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.” 
Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages. 
“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”
The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.
When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up. 
Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose. 
Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight. 
The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off. 
Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?
He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.
The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm. 
The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened. 
***
He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again. 
He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water. 
Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done. 
He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.
After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it. 
Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet. 
“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.
The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.
The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away. 
The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him. 
The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.
They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.
Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.
All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.
***
Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.
They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for. 
They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.
If only he could figure out the problem. 
Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be. 
Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.  
Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall. 
Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”
And then they left as carefully as they had come. 
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baileypie-writes · 5 months
Note
I was wondering if you could do some velvet x fem reader Angst with a fluffy ending, maybe velvet and y/n are both movie stars and a Interview tries to get with y/n and velvet gets all sad and cries and stuff
A/N ~ Sure! I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy it!
~I Don’t Like Him Like That~
Velvet x Fem!Movie Star!Reader
Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together
Relationship: Crushes to Relationship
Synopsis: You get asked out, and Velvet assumes her feelings for you are one-sided. However, that’s not the case.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, minor angst, a man making Reader feel uncomfortable, crying(Velvet), Reader confessing her feelings for Velvet, Veneer is not present in this fic, cringey
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You were breathtaking. She could barely keep her eyes off you. Velvet thought it was a crime to look that good, but there you were.
The both of you were at a red carpet event for the premier of your new movie. The movie also featured Velvet’s new song. You guys being the biggest pop star and actor meant that you two were surrounded by people. But Velvet could hardly focus on interacting with them, because her eyes would keep trailing back to you.
You and Velvet had been friends for a while. You’d met on several occasions, and became closer and closer. Velvet didn’t want to admit it, but she was down bad for you. Your personality complimented hers perfectly, and you were so fun to be around!
Finally, the crowd around Velvet had thinned out enough, so she could slither her way through it to get to you. She had to wave and call your name a few times, which was mildly frustrating, but you eventually noticed her.
“Hey, Velvet!” You said enthusiastically. Before she could greet you back, a camera man motioned for the two of you to pose for a picture. You quickly got into position. Velvet had to hide her blush as much as possible when you put your hand around your waist, pulling her closer. The camera flashed a few times, and the camera man gave a thumbs up, signaling that he was done.
“Hey (name).” Velvet finally said. She wasn’t prepared for when you suddenly hugged her tightly, so her blush became a little more prominent. She loosely returned the hug.
“So, what did you think?” You asked, pulling away. You were referring to the movie, as the viewing had just finished.
“It was pretty good. Especially the scene where my song was playing.” Velvet said, gesturing to herself proudly.
You laughed. “Hey would you do me a favor and get me a drink? All these lights are making me hot!” You said, fanning yourself. Usually, Velvet would be the one having people get things for her, but she was just so eager to please you.
“Sure. Be right back!” She waved, and made her way to the food table. She poured a glass of water, since you didn’t ask for a specific drink. As she made her way back to you, she saw an interviewer interacting with you. She slowed her walking, and started listening to your conversation.
“Aren’t you a real beauty tonight, Miss (name)? Not that you aren’t all the time, haha!” His hand was on your shoulder, and he was very close to you. You didn’t seem bothered at all, though.
“Well thank you, Mister Zephyr. You’re too kind.”
“Oh please, Miss (name), call me Zeph.” He continued to flirt. Velvet felt anger built up in her. Who did that man think he was? But her anger subsided, and her heart sank at what you did next.
You layed your hand on top of his, and looked into his eyes. “Okay, well then you can just call he (name)!” Then you laughed. Your beautiful laugh. The one that always made Velvet’s heart happy. She felt her eyes start to water.
She rushed over to you, and basically shoved the drink into your hands. You tried to ask what was wrong, but she avoided eye contact. Velvet fled the main room, and made her way to a bathroom.
She cried. A lot. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. You looked so happy talking to that man. The look you gave him was so sweet and genuine. She had no chance against Zephyr.
~~~~
You had finally squeezed your way out of the crowd. You had to know what happened with Velvet. She looked so upset. You followed the direction you saw her leave in, but someone was still following you.
“Hey (name)! Where are you going?” Zephyr asked.
“I’m trying to find Velvet. She just left, and I-“
“Oh, you can worry about her later.” He interrupted, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you and I grab some champagne and get out of here? We could hang out in my car, just the two of us, what do you say?”
You were disgusted. You had tried your best to be nice to this man, even when he got uncomfortably close to you without your consent. Now, he completely ignored your ambitions, and tried to get you to go out with him.
You whipped your hand out of his. “I’m sorry, Zephyr, but I’m just not interested. What I am interested in is finding my friend. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave me be.” You quickly turned away, and continued what you were doing.
You had found a bathroom, and could faintly hear sobs on the other side of the door. You recognized that they belonged to Velvet.
You knocked on the door. “Vels? Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing! I’m fine!” She snapped back. “Why do you care anyway? Just go hang out with that guy. He seemed pretty interested in you.”
“Who, Zephyr? C’mon, Vels! I know you know that I can do better than that. Plus, he’s annoying. You’re much more fun to hang out with!”
The sobbing stopped. “Really? But you seemed so… happy with him.”
You sighed. “Yeah. I have to be that way with everyone. I don’t wanna seem rude. But I guess that backfired, because that made him think I was in love with him or something.” You laughed nervously.
There were a few moments of silence. Then, you decided to gather all your courage, and say something that’s been on your mind for a long time.
“So yeah, I don’t like him like that. But there is someone I do like.”
Velvet’s heart sank once again. She barely had any oxygen left in her lungs from crying to respond. “Who?”
“She’s on the other side of this door.” You nervously laughed. There was more silence, but it was eventually broken by the sound of the door unlocking.
It opened, and revealed Velvet. Her mascara was running down her face, and she had the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen. Without hesitating, you cupped her face, and kissed her. You felt relieved when she kissed back.
~~~~
You had helped Velvet get cleaned up, and you both decided that you’ve had enough of this event. You walked through the main room, towards the exit, hand in hand. People tried asking you questions, but you politely rejected them. All you cared about was getting to spend time with your new girlfriend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~baileypie-writes
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steviewashere · 2 months
Text
Soothed
Rating: General CW: Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Minor Discussion of Bullying Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Hurt Eddie Munson, Injured Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Protective Steve Harrington, Worried Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, And Gets One
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is a warm hug."
💕—————💕
There was a knock at Steve’s front door.
Which is unusual to him. If somebody from the group—teenagers, adults, and preteens alike—then they’d use the spare key in the potted flower on the porch. Just barge right in, announce themself in the foyer, and let Steve find them first. They were told to be respectful, so that’s the least thing they can do.
But a knock? Unheard of. Steve pauses the movie he’s watching in the living room, stands from the couch, pops his back, and shuffles over to the front door. He turns the lock, twists the knob, and pulls the door from its jamb. On his porch: sopping wet, shivering, and down right miserable…is Eddie.
It’s late May, which means spring is in full swing. Which also means that there’s been forecasted rain. And, for some odd reason, Eddie hasn’t taken note of that. At least, that’s what Steve can gather.
Eddie’s hunched into himself. Hands gripping to his elbows. Dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and dark blue Levis, the same Reeboks he always wears. His hair, which was shaved back in March for surgery, is flat to his skull, frizzy from the rain. But, what scares Steve the most, is the dark purple bruise cupping a terribly swollen left eye. The eyeball itself is glazed over and bloodshot. His bottom lip is slightly puffy, sluggishly bleeding down his chin. And his nose, well Steve doesn’t think it’s broken, but it definitely is bloody, too. If the oddball patch below his right nostril has anything to say about it.
Steve moves to drag Eddie inside, but drops his hands when Eddie flinches away, nearly stumbling down to the concrete. He lets go of his elbows, which are now decorated with fine small crescents, and shields himself. There’s a couple smaller, red bruises decorating his wrists. As if somebody grabbed him. Steve fumes at the sight.
“Eddie,” Steve breathes, “why don’t you come inside?” He steps away from the door, letting it sit open and waiting. On shuffled, hesitant feet, Eddie comes in. His eyes dart around the room before they land back on Steve. Immediately, some of the tension and fear in his big brown eyes falls away. Instead, a layer of relief and gratitude seems to fill him. Enough that his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, Eds,” Steve can only coo.
Sniffling, mumbling, “They hurt me so bad,” Eddie says. He’s shivering. Whether that be from the cold or anxiety that’s surely swimming in Eddie’s stomach, Steve can’t tell. He inhales a wet gasp. Almost choking with it. “I just—I was trying to help this girl—And then they screamed at me and they—They hurt me,” he sobs. One of his hands flies up to his face, roughly wiping away the tears that try to travel down his cheeks. He presses too hard on his bruise and hisses.
“Okay, Eddie,” Steve mutters, “you’re safe here. It’s okay. They can’t get you here.” He doesn’t know who They is. But whoever they are, Steve knows he can rely on old reliable to do a good job. (Old reliable sits at the back of his closet, still crusted with blood, more nails than wood at this point). He hesitantly steps closer, palm out, ushering for Eddie to follow him to the downstairs master bathroom. There’s a part of him that hates treating Eddie like he’s a spooked little animal, defenseless and wrecked on the side of the road, one that’s been hit by a car, one that’s too afraid to realize they’ll live. But, what else is he supposed to do? Getting too close in his space seems to make Eddie freak, which is the last thing Steve wants.
Without any other words, just some wet sobs and aching cries that crumble Steve’s heart, Eddie follows on his heels. Head down to the floor, arms loose at his sides, his fingers flexing as if to press into the soft flesh of his palm. He settles over the closed toilet seat while Steve rummages through the cabinets, coming out successful with a red first aid bag in his hands. It’s heavy between his palms, overstocked and readily loaded for any and all emergencies. This feels like something detrimental, Steve hates how he’s shaking, too.
He grabs necessary first aid. Just a little bit of rubbing alcohol to get the dried blood off of Eddie’s skin, a half used tube of Neosporin, and a wad of toilet paper to hold to the wound. His nose seems to have stopped bleeding many minutes ago, so Steve’s not worried about that needing to be plugged up. But he still stands in front of Eddie—Well, actually, he crouches down onto the tiled flooring. Hard on his knees, but that puts him at eye level with the poor guy. He sets out his supplies on the lip of the bathtub, just to his right. And sets his palms softly on Eddie’s knees. He’s shaking there, too.
“Alright, Eds, tell me where it hurts. I gotta make sure you don’t have anything broken or anything that requires stitches, that’s all,” he coaxes.
Instead of speaking, Eddie displays his wrists. Turning them slowly so that Steve can see every dark splotching of bruises. He points to his eye, which was all too obvious to Steve. At his lip. The bridge of his nose. And then, he splays his left hand over his heart. Bunching the fabric of his t-shirt there. His eyes are mournful, still at the floor, not exactly looking at Steve. More like he’s looking through the floor. There are tears cascading down his face. His skin a blotchy, red and white mess, puffy from injuries and emotion.
Steve sets his own right hand over Eddie’s left. “Your heart hurts?” He asks, thumb swiping over his soft cotton shirt. “What did they do to your chest, Eds?”
Eddie shrugs and shakes his head. “They didn’t—Nothing physical.”
“Oh.” Oh. “Eddie,” Steve breathes. His own eyes are burning.
Eddie’s shoulders shake with the onslaught of new sobs and tears. But he reigns himself in quickly. His eyes finding Steve’s in a dizzyingly fast twitch. “Please help me, Steve,” he quietly pleads. “I’ll tell you, but I—I can’t—“
Steve hushes him. He grabs for the wad of toilet paper and guides it gently to Eddie’s lip. The bleeding has started anew, faster and steadier. With the press, Steve whispers, “I’ve got you. Never have to beg for my help, Eddie. Never, ever.” He holds it there for a few silent minutes. And when he takes it away, the bleeding has soothed. “I’m gonna put some Neosporin on your lip, okay? It might sting.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie lowly whispers. Still though, he winces with the small swipe of cream to his lip. Hissing minutely behind his teeth. Steve runs his other palm down Eddie’s right arm.
Once his lip is taken care of, the other areas follow easy. Wiping carefully at the tacky areas of drying blood on his skin. Underneath his lower lip, dipping a little into his right nostril, the underside of his chin. And when the first aid is done, Steve settles back on the bathroom floor, hands pressed warmly to Eddie’s knees. “Let’s get you a change of warm clothes,” he starts, “and some ice for that bruise. Do you need any ice for the ones on your wrist?” Eddie just shakes his head. “Okay,” Steve mutters, nodding. “The good news is that nothing’s broken. Just some gnarly coloring and swelling that needs remedied. How about you follow me upstairs and we can hang out in my room?”
They don’t speak as they ascend the stairs. Or as Steve hands over a small stack of clothes: green sweatpants, white long sleeve undershirt, thick grey socks. Neither of them speak as Eddie changes in the ensuite bathroom or when he slithers back into the bedroom, still hunched, still small. As they clamber into Steve’s bed, sitting up at the headboard, legs stretched in front of them, hands to themselves.
The silence is almost suffocating. Hates the small sniffles coming from his left. Hates how one of his closest friends has been reduced to the skeleton of a boy, surely somebody that Wayne met many years ago. Hates it all. Hates it.
“Do you want to know what happened?” Eddie finally croaks.
“Only if you want me to know,” Steve easily replies. Because, sure, he loves his gossip. Loves the drama that swirls around Hawkins. But Eddie’s business is his own, and if he’s embarrassed by what happened, Steve won’t force. Fuck, he knows what it’s like to get your ass beat and then want to remain silent in the aftermath.
Eddie nods slow, eyes at his folded hands, searching for the words. His tongue rolls over his top teeth. And he sighs through his nose. His voice is raspy and small when he speaks. Steve instinctually leans closer. They’re both warm, or at least, Eddie’s nearing that. “I was eating lunch in the cafeteria today,” he begins. “I ate alone because I didn’t—It’s not worth dragging attention to the rest of Hellfire. Not anymore. Didn’t even want to do one of my stupid speeches, y’know?” Steve hums.
He continues, “This girl—probably a sophomore, I don’t know—had walked behind my table. But she tripped over something and fell straight to the ground, her lunch was spilled all over the place, down the front of her shirt. She was crying. And I—“ He huffs, closes his eyes, and roams his teeth again. His head falls back, hitting the headboard with a soft Thud. Opening his eyes up at the ceiling, it’s all too obvious that they’re filling with tears again. “All I did was stand up from my seat and offer my hand to her. That’s all I did. But…Fuck,” he softly swears. His hand coming up and swiping at his eyes. “Jason’s stupid buddies saw me. Shoved me down to the ground. Scared off that girl. That poor girl. And they just beat me,” he rushes out, unwavering, though congested. “Beat me in front of all my fucking peers. So I just ran, Steve. Ran away like I always do. Back to my car and then I—I didn’t really know where I was going. Ended up here, I guess.”
Steve rests the side of his head on the board of his bed. Just looking over at Eddie. “I’m sorry, Eds,” he states sincerely. “For what they did.” He wishes there was more he could say. Could do. Eddie definitely won’t allow him to go on a rampage in his honor. But, Steve weighs the consequences in his head.
“It’s not your fault,” Eddie whispers after a moment. Sighing with the sentiment.
“I can still be sorry on your behalf,” Steve shoots right back. “I’m glad you came here, though. I’d probably worry otherwise.” He rests his left hand over Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “Is there anything else that I can do for you right now?”
For a moment, Eddie hesitates. Seemingly mulling over whatever it is he wants. Until, his head drops down and his eyes are set on Steve. Big and wet. They dart between Steve’s, searching. With whatever he found, he softly requests, “Can you hug me?”
Without another thought, Steve scoots as close as he possibly can. Their thighs hot on each other. And he scoops Eddie up between his arms. One over his shoulder blades, the other resting on his lower back. His hands splay over Eddie’s warm body. Head tucked to the side of Eddie’s. 
And Eddie, he wraps back enthusiastically. A hand going to Steve’s head, the other to his right side. Fingers simply toying with the ends of Steve’s hair. He goes boneless in the embrace, sighing into it. Shoving his forehead into Steve’s shoulder. 
“Thank you,” he whispers.
Steve shakes his head. “No need.” And it’s true. Because, gosh, Steve would do anything for Eddie. If it means ridding him of all the hurt he’ll ever experience, taking it on as his own, he’d do it. In a heartbeat. “Does your chest still hurt?”
“No,” Eddie whispers, his own head knocking into Steve’s neck. “Think you fixed me. Think this fixed me.” He squeezes Steve’s torso. And then he goes quiet again. His breaths heavy, relaxed, deep into Steve’s soul. The frizzy bits to his hair tickle against Steve’s jaw with every small shuffle, like he’s trying to burrow deep between them. Steve almost wants to open up his ribcage and let him in. Then, Eddie sighs completely sated. He whispers, “Reminds me of my mom.”
“That a good thing?”
“It’s the best, Stevie,” Eddie swears. “Her hugs were like sunshine. Like just one touch and suddenly my day would just—“ And he makes a soft “Poof” noise near Steve’s ear. It warms his chest, the way Eddie animates things. “—No clouds.”
Steve nuzzles closer. “You can always come to me,” he promises. “I’ll hug you even if you don’t have the words to ask.”
I’d find you in the dark, anywhere, anytime, he almost wants to say. I’d find you by touch alone.
Eddie’s content sigh is enough of a response. It’s enough for Steve to remain pressed to him. It’s enough to make his heart beat molasses slow and comfortable.
It’s enough to make him say, “I’ve got you.” What he truly means: “I love you."
💕—————💕 Okay, I am so sorry for how long it took to get to the hug. But I literally couldn't think of a hugging interaction without a lot of information leading into it. Hope this is good, though!
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