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#they yell at me once and i’m on the ground in tears
awetistic-things · 1 year
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THE MARINES WANT ME 😤😤😤🥊🥊🥊
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Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.
But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.
It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.
I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.
Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.
On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.
But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.
They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.
I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"
I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.
My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.
When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— trust who?
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pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader
contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles
summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648
a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics
🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)
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“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“
dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.
feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.
“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”
an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?
he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.
fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.
“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.
“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.
“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.
as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?
something wasn’t right.
“who— who are you?” you gulped.
“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.
here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.
this couldn’t be right.
“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”
a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.
“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.
when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.
“i missed you so much.”
“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”
the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.
you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.
“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.
“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.
“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”
you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?
you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.
“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”
he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.
“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.
“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.
your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.
“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.
your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.
“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.
he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?
“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.
“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”
nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.
“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.
“let you go?”
you nodded tentatively.
he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.
but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.
for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.
“why would i do that?”
“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
©luvjunie 2023
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fangirlmermaid · 3 months
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Please Princess
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Summary: You were kidnapped by Kronos goons, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, a familiar face proved you wrong
Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughterofPoseidon!reader
warning: Angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also kind of long (Sorry)
(This scene was inspired by Euphoria)
You’ve lost count of how many days since you’ve been in this cell. You don’t remember how one of Kronos’s goons managed to sneak up on you, one minute you were walking to the Poseidon Cabin late at night and the next you were in this small ass cell that only had a crappy spring mattress.
You were expecting Kronos’s goons to rough you up, but they haven’t. They’ve only come in once a day to give you food and water which you end up throwing back in the goon's faces. They still never laid a finger on you, you were starting to believe that you were leverage for whatever the hell your brother Percy was doing.
The next day you just sit Chris cross applesauce on the ground and face the wall when you hear footsteps. “Heard you were being stubborn” A familiar voice announced, your eyes widened No not him Luke was the last person you wanted to see. You touched the scar that laid across your cheekbone, something you got from that night.
You went to find Luke and Percy because they were taking a while and you wanted to enjoy the fireworks with them. You find them pointing their swords at each other, Luke tried to explain how Percy lied about not being the lightning thief but of course, you didn’t believe him which led to you and Percy trying to take Luke down. Luke swung backbiter intending to strike at Percy but he dodged and ended up cutting you.
You were heartbroken, Luke was the love of your life! You didn’t care about glory or getting the god's attention, as long as Luke was with you. You believed Luke cared about you too, he was your biggest supporter! This made you wonder if he was only dating you so you would be more willing to join Kronos.
Luke placed the tray on the small meal table on the cell door, “Come on please eat something” Luke’s voice laced with concern. You tried to blink away the tears, gods he’s still acting like he cares about you. You still sat with your back facing the man you once loved, even if you knew what you wanted to say, your voice couldn’t be found.
“You need to eat…please princess” Luke begged, when he called you his old nickname for you the memories that you tried to shut out came rushing back, all the campfires, sneaking to the lake at night, movie night on your phone. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, “don’t call me that” your voice cracked, Luke was relieved to hear her voice oh how he missed it.
He wanted to hear your voice more “Princess please, you have to understand” Luke tried to explain, and for the first time you looked at him filled with rage “Understand?” you mumbled, and you stood up “Understand?!” you yelled storming towards the cell door, words couldn’t describe how enraged you were “you betrayed us!” you yelled shoving the food tray back at Luke. The traitor didn’t flinch, “Y/N” Luke’s voice was soft, it felt weird that he was saying your real name “The gods don’t care about us, they have ignored us for too long. We’re just pawns to their game” Luke explained his eyes that only known kindness now replaced with spite and hatred, you glared at the man you once loved “So that’s supposed to make it okay for you to try to kill my brother?! He’s a kid!” You yelled white-knuckling the cell bars “I’m sorry for that Y/N, I am, but I need to make sure Kronos will rise” Luke explained, you felt your heart ripping once again.
You took a few steps back and looked at this monster who looked like the man you used to love. Your eyes darkened, You never thought he would kill a kid “That dragon should’ve fucking killed you” your voice laced with venom, that was a punch in the gut for Luke “You don’t mean that” Luke whispered his eyes glossed, “I do mean it!” you muttered at Luke who remained silent “You fucking betrayed us, Luke! You betrayed Annabeth! You betrayed me! And it fucking hurts Luke!” You shouted tears running down your face. Luke mumbled “I love you” You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to say that “No you don’t!” your voice cracked, Luke nodded his head “I love you” he mumbled once again, Gods will he stop saying that “No you don’t! Stop saying that! You don’t love me!” You shouted, clapping your hands with the last sentence.
Luke has never seen you this angry especially at him, you guys have arguments but they were never this bad. You leaned into the cell bars wanting to look Luke in the eyes “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but I have to say that meeting you has to be on the top of my fucking list” You explained in a malicious tone, Luke's eyebrows raised. A tear ran down Luke's cheek “You don’t mean that princess” Luke mumbled, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little bit satisfied by making him cry “I.mean.every.fucking.word” you spat at him. Luke grabbed your hand before you could walk away to catch your breath “Stop” you mumbled trying to pull away but Luke tightened his grip, he turned your hand over, exposing your palm. You studied Luke who looked at you with love before giving your palm a soft kiss something he used to do all the time, your eyes glossed at the sight. Luke gave it a final kiss before letting go, you cradled it into your chest “Y/N, none of this was supposed to betray you. I love you, I’m doing this for us” Luke explained calmly, you looked at Luke with murderous eyes “We could’ve left, Luke. We could’ve lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, just like we used to talk about” You reminded in a low tone your throat was dry and sore from the screaming, Luke shook his head “You know it’s not that simple, not for us” Luke explained, you knew it was true there would be monsters knocking on your door every five minutes but you wouldn’t have cared. You started to laugh “You know you're no different than them” You stated looking up at your ceiling, Luke raised an eyebrow “The gods” you continued, you were walking side to side in your cell “That’s not true” Luke grumbled, you laughed one again “but you are. You’re no better than Zeus, you’re no better than Ares…you’re no better than your father” you muttered, you smiled in satisfaction when Luked at you with rage in his eyes “I am nothing like them,” Luke told his voice laced with venom, you nodded your head not believing him “you’re a fucking vampire. Just like them” you muttered, Luke stood there in disbelief “You just go around sucking the fucking spirit out of everyone!” You yelled pressing your face into the cell bars and looking him dead in the eyes, Luke shook his head “You know that’s not true” he reminded, your murderous eyes staring him down “It is fucking true!” you yelled before walking away from the bars.
Then Luke had the nerve to say the three words again “Y/N, please! I love you!” he shouted, you wished he would stop lying “No you love being loved! You love being needed and being awed at like your some whimsical fucking creature!” You yelled wishing the bars weren’t here so you could leave, Luke sighed before looking at you “I love you! What will it take for you to believe me?!” Luke shouted in frustration, you wiped away your old tears “If you want me to believe you then stay away from me” You muttered, Luke shook his head making you sigh in frustration “Then let Kronos’s goons kill me because looking at you makes me physically fucking ill!” you spat at him before walking into a corner with your back facing him, telling him that you are done talking to him.
You stood there until you heard the main door slammed, you turned around and he was gone. You felt like an idiot for dating him, you should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve killed him that night, he was no longer the man you loved. It’s all your fault, out of anyone in camp you should’ve been the one to know that he was up to something.
You slid down against the wall, you brought your knees into your chest, and you were hysterical crying into your knees. Even though with everything that is happening, deep down you still loved him and you wished you didn’t.
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angelicdanvers · 4 months
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BRACELETS | luke castellan.
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname
taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3
a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3
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sixteen.
it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.
she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.
she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?
the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips. 
glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted. 
they all seemed to be in glee.
snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.
“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.
all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.
y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.
she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.
“hey, y/n?”
the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.
“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile. 
luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“
“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.
“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.
“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”
luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”
“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”
“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.
a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”
exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!” 
the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.
she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.
luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.
and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.
the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.
throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.
luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.
subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.
he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.
“may i call my dad?”
“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office. 
the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.
“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”
she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank. 
“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.
stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore. 
luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.
“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”
y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”
“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”
y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”
“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”
his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”
y/n was not expecting that.
“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.
she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same. 
together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.
somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.
“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”
“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.
y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”
luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”
y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”
his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”
the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.
after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.
luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”
y/n laughed. luke froze.
he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.
“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”
the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.
even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.
“hey, y/n?”
“yes, luke?”
“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”
now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.
“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.
“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”
y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”
luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.
“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”
luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.
their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.
2K notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 6 months
Text
𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ʚ charles leclerc x female reader
ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.
ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles
ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)
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Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;
Charles is going to be so mad.
To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.
Thankfully it didn’t take long, 
“Hi baby, are you on your way back”
A pause 
“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”
The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice. 
“Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”
“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”
Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.
“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”
Sniffling softly, you hummed
“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”
“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”
You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you. 
“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”
“I will chérie, I promise.”
-
Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window. 
“Hey, can you step away from my car?”
The man turned to look at Charles
“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”
“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”
It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you
“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”
Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.
“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”
Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.
“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”
Sniffling you nodded
“Okay…”
In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.
“Are you hurting badly baby?”
“No, just my head…can you help me up?”
Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.
“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”
“Promise you won’t?”
Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.
“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”
As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.
Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.
translations:
-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?
-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!
-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car
2K notes · View notes
sorrowfulrosebud · 1 year
Note
Hi! I have a request.
Okay so 1-A bakugou end’s up to the future. Where he sees that he has a family with reader and sees what a simp he will become🫣
And how would future bakugou and reader (+ the kids) react to meeting him.
(You can choose if past bakugou knows reader or not)
I’m sorry if it’s confusing,
It was safe to say that Katsuki was beyond pissed. He was certain that at this point he was never going to fully get your attention, not with that damned Todoroki always swooping in before he can even look your way.
==================================
The cacophony of grunts from the students plundered against the walls of Gym Gamma. It was self-improvement day and Aizawa was NOT letting anyone rest.
“Keep it up class. Those who fail to break some sort of barrier today will receive double homework for a week. I’m looking at you, Kaminari,” Aizawa grinned evilly. You let out a giggle at Kaminari’s audible gulp before Aizawa shot you a glare.
Katsuki was busy increasing the flow of his AP shot; he thought that if he could increase his sweat, he could increase the speed of which the blasts sped out. The poor rock he was blasting was finally on its last legs, all before that IDIOT Kaminari accidentally bumped into him and caused a rockslide, directly above the platform that you were training on.
“Hey, watch!-” he yelled in a panic. He saw fear flash through your eyes as he willed his body to move. Thankfully for you and begrudgingly for him, a smooth glacier of ice barricaded you from being concussed with Bakugou’s debris.
Todoroki hopped his way from his platform to you and placed his hand on your shoulder.
“Are you alright? You aren’t hurt are you?” Todoroki asked, examining your head for injuries. You shook him off you with a nervous smile.
“Thank you for stopping the debris Todo, but I’m fine. It was shock, I’m not hurt,” you reassured him gently. Todoroki gave you another once over before seeing where the damage came had arrived from.
“I would recommend being more careful next time, Bakugou. Someone could have gotten really hurt,” Todoroki gave him a meaningful glare as Katsuki fought every vein pop in his neck at his implications. Kaminari let out a guffaw, before he let out a squeak of terror at the animalistic look on Katsuki’s face.
“Laugh. Again. I. Freakin’. Dare. You,” he strained angrily through gritted teeth.
“O-okay Kaachan!” Kaminari speedily ran away from the threat as Katsuki stared at the back of your head. Well, now he was in a bad mood.
==================================
Katsuki was the first one in the changing room, and the first one out. He trudged his way to the UA dorms so he could shower and forget the whole day. He couldn’t stand the idea of being teased right now, not when he was so careless to the point that you nearly got concussed. Well, that never would have happened if Dunce Face watched where he was going…
Katsuki was torn from his thoughts as he barged past another student.
“Hey, watch where you’re fucking!-”
And just like that, Katsuki fell to the ground.
==================================
It took Katsuki a long time to start stirring from his sleep. It was a gradual process, but somehow he managed to tear the sleep from his body as he was poked and shaken incessantly by someone. Katsuki jumped up immediately in surprise, throwing a blast at his assailant. His assailant was no match for him though, springing back and using their quirk to restrain him.
Katsuki wiggled in his restraints like a wild animal, snapping and snarling.
“What the hell do you want with me you bastards! Let me the hell go or I’ll fucking kill you!” He snarled with purpose. A soft giggle filled his ears. A familiar giggle.
Soft (S/C) skin filtered through his still blurry vision until he saw… you.
You were at least a good 20 years older, some laughter lines he didn’t remember seeing (not that he definitely doesn’t scan you every time you’re close to him), as well as new scars.
Your eyes had aged too, the bags slightly more prominent but you were still you. You had four small children gathered around the bed gawking at the teen. The smallest was in your lap, seemingly frightened of Katsuki.
“Easy there tiger, you just woke up. I found you in the street asleep, so I took you to a hospital to see if you’re okay,” you offered an explanation that only answered some of his questions.
“Who the damned hell are you?? Why the hell am I here?? Argh, damnit! Let me out of these shitty restraints!” He demanded. Your face hardened in an instant as you glared at him.
“Hey, no fucking swearing in front of my children! If you’re going to talk and ask questions, you need to be respectful. You’re frightening my son with your endless shouts, so what’s your name and we can call your parents to come collect you.”
Katsuki let himself be still for a moment, glowering at you before relaxing his pose.
“My name is Katsuki Bakugou. I was hit by a quirk on my way to the UA’s dorms, I fell asleep I think, and the next thing I know is I’m in a hospital bed surrounded by someone who looks like a classmate of mine,” Katsuki growled. Your face grew a look of puzzlement.
“D-did you say… Katsuki Bakugou? As in, explosion quirk, super goal oriented, current number 2 hero?” You questioned him worriedly.
Katsuki gave you a strange look. How the hell would you know about that stuff??
“I’m only a high school student so I can’t be the number two hero yet, but everything else is true. Look, here’s my quirk,” he said as he let off a few sparks. The small children around the bed looked on in awe at the sight as you chewed your nails.
Katsuki looked back up to you and saw your expression.
“Why?” He asked.
You gulped.
“Because I’m married to Katsuki Bakugou.”
==================================
“Baby, I need you to come to the hospital in Kyoto, it’s an emergency! What? No, me and the kids are fine, we-. Hey, I told you we’re okay, but you have to be here as soon as you can. I’ll send you the details. I love you, see you in a bit.” You hung up the phone with an ashen face as you made your way back to your chair. Your children were bombarding Katsuki with questions, all too weird for Katsuki to answer.
“Papa, why are there two of you?”
“Daddy, why don’t you remember us? Did we do something bad?”
“Dad, why do you look so young? Where are all of your cool scars?”
“Alright kids, give the kid some space. We obviously need to get this fixed somehow. How we’re gonna do that is beyond me though,” you massaged your temples with a sigh. You glanced back up to young Katsuki.
“You’re definitely not a clone or something? Not some sort of fanboy who cosplays in his spare time?” You asked him, half joking.
Katsuki snorted.
“No, I don’t cosplay heroes. I beat them in the hero ranks to show them that I’m the best!” He exclaims.
“God, you even sound like my husband. I’m getting more and more convinced that this is some sort of weird time shift,” you stopped speaking as soon as a muscular figure pulls himself through the door. Katsuki physically stills.
It was him, but older.
At first, older Katsuki didn’t give him a look in. He scrambled over to you, kissing you deeply before checking you over for injuries.
“Where are you hurt?? Are you alright?? Speak to me??” He demanded. You carefully push him off you and rub your thumb on his cheek.
“Sweetie, I told you I’m fine. See, even the quadruplets are fine. We have a major problem though, and I don’t know how we’re going to solve it,” you gestured to younger Katsuki. Older Katsuki glares at younger Katsuki before a look for confusion befalls his face.
Katsuki looked… older. His face was more structured, yet still maintained some of his puppy fat. Scars littered his face, the most noticeable a large triangle that went from the middle of his cheek to the underside of his neck. His hair was shorter too, buzzed at the side. He towered over you easily and his pecs looked even bigger than before. Taunt muscles flexed at the threat to his wife and children.
“Can someone explain what the fuck happened?”
“Katsuki, stop fucking swearing!”
==================================
Until he was back to his current time, you had pleaded with your husband to let him stay. Older Katsuki agreed when his babies started pleading too, chubby cheeks wobbling with unshed tears at the idea of their older daddy throwing out their younger daddy.
And for the last few days, he had lived with you and his (?) children. Older Katsuki was mostly at work when he woke up, and he wouldn’t see him unless he stayed up past his bedtime (he could never compromise his sleep).
He spent some time babysitting your children, the quads. The eldest, Akira, was a total carbon copy of him, apart from his hair texture and colour. He was so bold when facing younger Katsuki, asking him questions and hiding his siblings behind him when they properly met.
The second eldest daughter, Aika, was more like you; shy and reserved but very playful all the same. She was a more balanced mixed of the two of you (?).
Your third daughter, Kokoro, was a pain in his ass. She constantly played tricks on Katsuki, taunting him and making mean jokes (all before she was shut down with your stare).
And finally, your littlest quadruplet Keiko, was honestly kinda his favourite in the strangest way; he was so different to his siblings it was unreal. He was the smallest, most sensitive of the bunch. In a way, he reminded him of Deku when they were kids, but with his colour hair.
The morning of the third day, you sat him down with your children at the breakfast table and grilled him a fry up. Each of your children were giggling happily in their high chairs, scrambled eggs and ketchup smeared around each mouth. Katsuki let out a small smile when Keiko offered him a piece of toast from his plate before denying it with a “no thanks squirt, your ma is making me some”.
“Well, good news! I found the person who you described and asked them how long the quirk should last. You should be back to your own time by next week, maybe even earlier if you’re lucky,” you smiled as you flipped the sizzling bacon in the pan.
Katsuki was scarfing the breakfast like there was no tomorrow, up until you said that he should be home sometime by next week.
That’s good, he thought. I really want to know something though, I might as well take advantage of the situation.
He looked up at you, one burning question on his mind.
“I bet you’re wondering how me and … well, I suppose you got together, huh?” You grinned at him.
“How could you tell that’s what I was thinking?” He demanded. You let out a laugh.
“Katsuki hun, I’ve been married to you, er, him for over 15 years. I know all of your little tricks and tells, so don’t even try hiding them,” you offered more bacon to him. He accepted, before you turned your attention to the kids in their high chairs.
“Let me clean up my mucky little pups up first and we’ll talk after I’ve dropped them off at daycare.”
==================================
It was a pleasant day, Katsuki noted. After dropping off the children at the daycare and added cuddles from the babies, you did as you promised and hurried Katsuki to the couch with a photo book.
“See here, this is a photo I took of us at our first date. You were so nervous, your hand kept popping and you had to keep wiping your hand,” you laughed fondly at the memory. Katsuki peered at the photos with a strange feeling lying in his tummy. Is this why he felt so nervous around younger you all of the time?
“Oh! And here, this was our trip with the class to France! I had said something about the croissants being delicious, and you took that as a challenge. I was eating the croissants you made for days,” you let out another laugh as you recounted tales of your relationship.
Katsuki stared at you for a solid 5 seconds. You stared at him back until his face hardened and he turned himself away. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Is something the matter hun?” You pried carefully. Damnit, you even knew the right nicknames to make him feel all weak inside.
“Just… why the hell would you go out with someone like me, hah? I’m loud, I’m obnoxious, I can be pretty freakin’ mean, so why? Why would you ever let me have a home with you?! Why would you ever let me grow a family with you?!? Why do you seem so happy, even though there’s a chance I may never come back?!?” He was borderline yelling at the end of his lament, tears threatening to plop onto the pages of the photo album.
You hugged Katsuki tightly, fingers playing with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck, all soft and gentle.
“Katsuki… I have no idea how far you’re into the relationship with younger me, but I’m going to let you in on a secret. I had a crush on you since our first day. I thought you were so strong and handsome, although you had some angst problems. Even after that, I always admired you from afar.
It hasn’t always been easy with you, as I’m sure you’re aware of. You can be loud and mean, and that has caused some rifts in our relationship, but,” you lifted his head up and cleared some tears.
“You’re also dedicated. You found ways to make up for your mistakes, and I always forgave you for them. I wanted a family with you because I love you, er, older Katsuki. We’re so blessed to have the quadruplets, even if they’re little pains sometimes. And yeah, there isn’t a day that goes by when I’m not panicked beyond all belief when you’re at work, but I wouldn’t stop you because it’s your dream.”
Katsuki looked at you. Your eyes held nothing but sincerity as he smoothed his breathing.
“Now come on, let’s go make some spicy noodles. My husband will be back soon.”
==================================
Katsuki helped you diligently in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with renewed vigour. Older Katsuki trudged through the door with a loud grunt, you immediately dropping the pan on the hob to give him a welcome home hug.
“Welcome back baby, how was work? It was nice that Kiri offered to cover your shift,” you rambled happily into his neck. Katsuki let out a barking laugh at your clinginess as he picked you up and kissed you, making you squeal in surprise.
Younger Katsuki stared at your display; is this how you’re going to be in the future? Allowing him to kiss your neck when he comes home from work, cooking his favourite meals, keeping your home in tact?
“Oi, quit starin at my wife you pervert,” older Katsuki barked before you slapped his chest playfully.
“Leave him be, he’s literally you, you big dumb dumb. I’ve been letting him in on some of our dates and stuff so he can seduce younger me into wanting you,” you teased. Both Katsuki’s huffed simultaneously, earning a laugh from you. You wriggled yourself out of his grip and led him to the dining room where the meal you and younger Katsuki created.
You kissed his cheek as you went to fetch him a drink, leaving both Katsuki’s by themselves.
Older Katsuki stared menacingly at his younger self before clearing his throat.
“Listen brat, we need to fuckin’ talk,” he starts, rearranging himself on the chair and nudging the other chair adjacent to him. Younger Katsuki did so with hesitation.
“I’m fuckin’ tellin’ ya now, if you do anything that wrecks what I have now, I’m gonna come back in time to kick your ass,” he growls lowly.
“I love that damned woman more than anything in this godforesaken planet, as well as my little pack of brats. I would do anything for them, and I’ll be damned if you do anything that fucks that up for me,” he glares at him. Younger Katsuki slowly put two and two together and looked pointedly at the scar on his cheek. Older Katsuki knew where he was looking immediately.
“I, we, got this scar during a villain attack. (Y/N) took the brats to the park after a stupid fucking fight we had, and a villain attacked them out of nowhere. Luckily, I was patrolling there and stopped them from hurting them, so I took the blow in her place. I would do it a million times over for her,” his voice audibly softens whilst talking about you, eyes downcast to the large scar on his cheek.
He touches it almost fondly, as if he was proud of the scare. Knowing Katsuki, he probably was. He looked back up at younger Katsuki, who had a contemplating look.
“So…. Please. Don’t hurt her younger self in any way. I wouldn’t be able to survive without her. If you argue, hold your tongue even if you’re right. Treasure her. Make her feel like she’s the most incredible woman in the damned world, cos she fuckin is,” he finished with a doleful look in his eyes.
“…okay. I’ll, I’ll try,” younger Katsuki promised. Older Katsuki nodded and cleared his throat as you walked into the room. You presented the bottle of beer with a happy grin and a kiss on the cheek and a ruffle of the hair for younger Katsuki.
Fuck, he was smitten.
==================================
“Daddies, watch me!” Aika grunted loudly as she successfully tiptoed from one end of the couch to another. Older Katsuki clapped and whooped in adoration whilst younger Katsuki looked on in pride.
“That’s my little ballerina! You’re gonna be the most graceful dancer ever, pumpkin!” Older Katsuki cheered, sweeping her up on his shoulder and making her squeal.
Kokoro looked on in jealousy with a pout on her face before a brilliant idea struck her. She toddled back to the couch and attempted the exact same feat as her sister, except on the back of the couch.
Keiko sat below her and watched her with a fearful expression.
“Papas, watch me! I can do it better than Aik-AAAAA!” She shrieked as she went to fall on the cushions of the couch, and subsequently Keiko. Keiko let out a scared cry as younger Katsuki swooped in to save him, carrying him in his left arm and catching Kokoro diligently in his right.
Keiko sobbed loudly into Katsuki’s broad shoulder, clinging to him with impressive strength. He nestled in as close as he could, passing Kokoro to his older self as he tried shushing Keiko.
“There there brat, you’re okay. Shhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured softly into his ear. He tried rocking him softly in his arms the same way you did and he was slowly left with a hiccuping, sleepy toddler.
“Damnit Kokoro, this is why I tell you to be careful! Every time you try to show Aika up, you end up hurting someone and yourself. Are you hurt, Keiko?” Older Katsuki asked Keiko. Keiko shook his little head into younger Katsuki’s neck.
Kokoro started tearing up at older Katsuki’s tone and looked down in shame. He visibly softened at his daughter’s tears and wiped them away with his fingers.
“Just be more careful, okay pumpkin?” He said firmly. Kokoro nodded and offered Keiko an apology.
==================================
The next time Katsuki woke up, it was in a hospital bed. Specifically, Recovery Girl’s clinic. The light filtered through the blinds, hitting Katsuki in the face and making him stir.
IV wires and tubes fed into him and made it hell to try to sit up, before he saw a sleeping figure near his knees.
It was younger you.
He nudged you with his knee in order to wake you up. You looked dreadful; massive eye bags, lips nibbled red raw, sniffly pink nose like you hadn’t stopped crying.
“Oh my god, you’re awake! I’ll go get Recovery Girl!” As you moved to get her, Katsuki grabbed your hand.
“W-what…,” his voice felt strange, like it wasn’t his.
“What the damned hell happened?” He croaked out.
Your face saddens as you looked away.
“You seemed really upset after our last training session, so I went after you to find you. You had collapsed just outside of the Height’s Alliance building and you wouldn’t wake up whatsoever,” your voice cracks. Katsuki let out an “oh”.
You gained your composure before looking at Katsuki again.
“So, how do you feel? Is anything hurt? What happened?” You interrogated him. Katsuki rolled his eyes at your pestering before a sly grin crossed his face.
“Why, were ya worried about me?” He teased and watched as your face turned a bright pink. You flapped your hands around in a panic.
“It’s just because you’re my classmate is all! You wouldn’t wake up, and I didn’t want you to stay like this for ages!” You rambled in a worried state. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh before wincing at his voice.
Well, better shoot my shot, he thought.
“Well, I’ll tell ya what. Go out with me this Saturday and I’ll tell ya everything,” he promised.
The pink in your face told him everything that he needed to know.
6K notes · View notes
greg-montgomery · 20 days
Text
Mr. Scratch - Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
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a little hurt/comfort inspired by ep. 10x21 - mr. scratch aaron's hallucination is you getting killed right in front of him. pre-relationship <3 words: 1.6k warnings: basically everything bad that happens in that episode: being drugged, hallucinations, blood, feeling paranoid
Aaron stayed unfazed by the sight of the gun pointed at him; his stare cold and unwavering.
“Oh, that was good. Oh, that was so good,” Peter whispered. “That was so impressive.”
His eyes almost sparkled with excitement as he went on, “The way you got into my head…It makes me want to know how I get into yours.”
A sound from right outside interrupted him and Aaron already knew where it was coming from. His team was there, you were there.
“You were right,” Peter said. “They did come calling for you.”
“They’ll kill you,” he threatened him with the same certainty he knew the sun would come up in the morning.
Peter’s next words though made his heart tremble with fear. “Are you sure about that?”
The dead silence in the house allowed him to focus on every little sound being made. His ears despite having been injured in the past could almost hear the door open. They could almost hear the sound of footsteps. He was certain, you were inside the house.
Peter had disappeared in the darkness and he could only pray you would get to him first. What if you weren’t fast enough? What if he drugged you too? What if-
A gunshot from the next room tore his heart in half.
He cursed himself for being unable to move, frozen in the same place as if he was stuck in the middle of a nightmare. Someone was being hurt and he was too weak to help; too slow to save them.
More gunshots followed, he thought he heard someone scream.
And then he heard you. “Hotch!”
Your voice was desperate, scared. But it meant you were alive, and that was more than enough to him.
“Here,” he said with every inch of power he had left in his body.
“Where?”
“Here,” he repeated. “In the study.”
First he saw the outline of your body, moving like a shadow towards him. Your eyes were wide with worry, like every time you saw him in danger. His sweet Y/N, who cared for him in a way he never knew he needed before.
“Where? Where is he?” he breathed as you knelt next to him.
“I shot him. He’s down,” you said.
Before he had the chance to feel relief, before he had the chance to look into your eyes for just a moment of comfort, a body hid the light behind you. He wasn’t dead.
“Y/N!” Aaron yelled, but the bullet had already left Peter’s gun.
You fell to the ground and your hand covering the wound in your neck did nothing to stop the blood from running.
“No,” he screamed with desperation. “No, no, no.”
Tears ran down his cheeks getting mixed with your blood that had been splashed on his face, but he was unable to move. He wanted to run to you, to take you in his arms, to steal you away, but he was stuck watching your terrified expression as you were bleeding to death.
“No,” he cried. “No, baby, not you. Help!” he screamed. “Somebody help!”
His body was shaking, but as if he was under a spell, he couldn’t even lift his arm. A feeling of helplessness took over his body that he had only experienced once before; the day he lost Haley.
“Not my Y/N,” he choked on his sobs.
“Now I know what scares you,” Peter said, towering over him.
The gun he pointed at Aaron turned towards your body again and you were met with a final shot.
“No!”
His eyes closed, his blood boiling with fury. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.”
When he opened them again, he had to blink a few times before he realized that your body was gone. His head was dizzy and his vision was blurred, but he was certain of one thing: you were no longer lifeless, laying right in front of him.
“It’s okay. You can move now.”
He had been fooled, just like all of his victims before. Aaron knew what he had to do now, the fact that you were still alive giving him some clarity.
“I’m about to come through that front door.”
He was lying, but still Aaron accepted the knife Peter gave him and turned to the door. You were about to come in, and this time for real; he had to play along. This time he had a second chance. A second chance to save the person he loved that was so brutally taken away from him the first time.
“My gun,” he asked. “I need my gun.”
“Look. Here I come,” Peter said. “Kill me.”
Aaron reached out for his gun and pointed at the spot he had shown him. As soon as he saw the door open, he turned around and shot Peter as fast as he could.
“Hotch!” you ran to him. “We need a medic in here!” you asked.
“Take it,” he said, terrified, giving you his gun. He didn’t trust himself with it; not when it was you right in front of him. “Take it.”
You did as he said, placing your hand on his arm, trying to figure out a way to comfort him.
“He made me see things,” he cried. And then in a breath he said again, “He made me see things...”
“It’s over,” you said softly. “You’re okay. Look at me.”
Aaron met your gaze and you didn’t seem to think twice before reaching out to him and taking him into your arms. He couldn’t help but melt into your embrace.
“It’s okay,” you kept repeating to him, and it wasn’t the words you used, but the sound of your voice that calmed his shaking body down. “I’m here, I got you.”
“He’s gone,” Spencer informed you.
--
“He looks traumatized,” JJ said, staring at her boss. Peter had just been arrested but it didn’t seem to have calmed him down. His attention was completely devoted to you, as you held his hand and talked to him at the back of the ambulance.
“His hallucinations were probably traumatic,” Rossi said.
“He needs to talk about it,” Derek added.
“I’m sure he will. He has Y/N to talk to.”
Their attention turned back to you. You were holding a piece of cotton now, patting it softly over his wound. He kept insisting to the medics he was fine, but seemed fine with you touching him.
Your free hand was still holding his.
“I didn’t know they were…” JJ said before David interrupted her.
“This isn’t the time or the place for a conversation like this. Let’s just be grateful he’s letting someone in.”
“You’re right,” Morgan said.
--
You insisted on driving Aaron home and if he was honest with himself he had no issues with it, since he had also no intention of ever leaving you out of his sight again.
He was thankful Jack wasn’t home. The last thing he wanted was for his son to see him in that state.
Closing the door behind you, you made your way around his couch and sat next to him. You seemed almost awkward in your moves.
The fact that you were a soft spot for him was not a piece of information he had ever shared with you before. But after that night it would be ridiculous for either of you to pretend you were just a unit chief and his subordinate. Your dynamic had shifted.
“Thank you,” he said. “For driving me home.”
“I would never let you drive in that state.”
Any other day your sweet words would have made him smile, but Aaron didn’t have it in him at that moment. He was exhausted and scared.
“Aaron,” you said, reaching out for his hand. The sweet gesture and the use of his first name made his heart flutter. “You can talk to me…about what you saw.”
Flashes of your bleeding body appeared right in front of him. He was back in that house, frozen to the ground, hearing your desperate chokes as you bled away.
“Hotch? Aaron?”
It all vanished the next second, as he blinked to send them away.
“I saw your death.”
His words visibly shook you, and you slightly opened your mouth but without making a sound.
Aaron’s voice broke. “He shot you right in front of my eyes. You were bleeding to death and I couldn’t move.”
His breaths were getting shorter as he sobbed and you moved closer to him, placing your palm right over his heart. “I was too late again. I didn’t save you.”
“You did. You shot him, remember? You saved me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved all of us. He drugged you and you still managed to shoot him.”
He couldn’t help but let all the tears out. “I’m scared I never woke up from it. I’m scared you’re not real.”
“I’m real. I’m right here, I promise.”
“Y/N…”
Your movements were careful as you lifted your hand to cup his cheek, and the comforting motion of your thumb rubbing the side of his head brought him back to reality. You were real, his inner voice repeated.
“I am terrified of losing you,” he admitted.
“You won’t.”
He tried to speak again but his sobs wouldn’t allow him to.
“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s okay.”
Your eyes were watery too, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away. But you put him back to his place, silently reminding him that he was the one who needed comfort this time, as you wiped his tears away with your hand. “I’m here.”
“Will you stay?”
“Do you think I would leave you here alone? I would stay even if you didn’t want me to,” you answered.
“I would never not want you here, Y/N.”
Aaron fell into your arms and you held him there with no intention of letting him go. “I know.”
479 notes · View notes
fleurmiss · 1 year
Text
ೃ⁀➷ only you, my girl
- ,, neteyam x fem reader
- ,, you think neteyam is extremely attractive, others do too , its fine! you get it! but what happens when they cross a line ?
- ,, warnings - neteyam is head over heels for u, jealousy and the attitude that comes w it, fluff , all this happens before the events of awotw.
-‘๑’- dark red - steve lacy
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Neteyam has always shown so much interest in you, and made his courting so obvious, but why do people still not get the damn hint?
Currently you are walking on a huge tree branch, high above the ground, with Lo’ak, Kiri and Spider. Neteyam isn’t here, much to your dismay, because he has “ Future Olo’eyktan duties” as Lo’ak likes to call it.
“it’s almost eclipse, let’s start heading back” Kiri mentions and for once, Lo’ak and Spider agree and make their way home without causing too much of a fuss
“woah guys, you barely even whined about having to go back home so early today, whatsup?” you question laced with sarcasm as you hear Kiri chuckle and nod in agreement with you.
“we don’t want to keep you away from your boyfriend for too long y/n, we all know how cranky my brother gets without you” Lo’ak adds and Spider cackles, thinking this is so super funny.
You shove Lo’ak and tell him to shut up, and that Neteyam’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t get cranky.
Your relationship with Neteyam was quite.. obvious , yet complicated. Both confused teenagers in love yet don’t know how to confess it, nothing was official, but everyone knew you were off limits, you were Neteyam’s girl.
you are clutching your stomach in pain from laughing too hard when you enter the Sully’s cave, wiping a tear from your cheek wondering how on pandora could someone be so stupid as lo’ak and spider.
You hear the laughter die down and your eyes set on a pair sitting together in the gathering room of the cave, Neteyam and Rini.
You eye both of them in confusion, so does Lo’ak, Kiri, and even Spider. You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach but not in the good way, you don’t like how close Rini is to Neteyam.
“Guys, Rini caught me on the way back to our cave and said she wanted to hang out with everyone, hope no one minds?”
The four of you shake your heads and make your way to the pair to sit down with them. It was odd, Rini wasn’t good friends with any of you, maybe Neteyam? No, you would know. Why does she suddenly wanna hang out with us? Neteyam is often times too nice to say no, maybe he couldn’t deny her? You wonder if the others question the same, and maybe they do, judging by the looks on their faces.
“y/n” you hear your name in neteyam’s voice, he pats the spot next to him, the opposite side of where Rini is sitting, you don’t want to sit next to him, to be petty, but you oblige anyways, oblivious to the female na’vi glaring daggers at you, Neteyam gives you a bright smile, now that you got his attention, you’ll have it the rest of the night.
Neteyam embraces you in a warm hug, his hands sneaking around your waist as he whispers into your ear “missed you, you look good”
you smile shyly and open your mouth to thank him, but someone else beats you to it
“Neteyam! This cut on your arm looks terrible!! Are you okay? How’d you get it?!”
God. Her voice is annoying, why is she yelling? Neteyam is literally next to her?
You eye Kiri and she rolls her eyes at Rini, you stifle a laugh and Neteyam notices, smiling sweetly at your antics, momentarily forgetting Rini was even there, until he is bought back to his senses.
“Oh this? It’s nothing just a scratch”
“Do you want me to patch it up for you?”
Your eye twitches, you try to have a normal conversation with the other three, trying your best to ignore the two sitting right next to you, but Rini makes it unbelievably hard with her screeching voice.
“No I’m g-“
“I insist” Rini touches Neteyams shoulder and gives it a squeeze, you look at Neteyam and he knows it, you’re pissed. You stay quiet and enjoy the show infront of you.
“I’ll have y/n help me later Rini, it’s alright.”
“Oh- Oh yeah okay” she deflates, but you have a feeling deep down, this girl isn’t giving up so easily. You wonder who put her up to this. Her mother? Grandmother? Friends? Toruk Makto’s eldest son’s mate does have a nice ring to it, despite the length, but that title’s yours, she knows it.
You all are laughing at Lo’ak and Kiri arguing about who Spider likes better when Neteyam rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach explode with butterflies again, the good kind.
“Tired?”
“mhm” Neteyam mumbles, you reach your hand up to the braid dangling infront of his face and move it behind his ear. Your romantic little moment is interrupted yet again by the same culprit from last time.
“Neteyammm, it’s so dark! Will you walk me to my cave?” Rini latches onto Neteyam’s arm and gives him a little tug thats powerful enough to have him pulling away from you and get him to stand up.
“Uh-“ Neteyam looks at you for approval, you’re not looking at him, instead opting the floor was a better option. Neteyam is no fool, he knows why you’re upset, he gets it too, if some random man was leeching onto you like Rini is, he’d be upset, hell, he’d be crazy. He doesn’t like that expression on your face, he doesn’t like when you’re sad, because of him too.
Neteyam look’s over to Lo’ak and Lo’ak immediately gets on it. “Bro don’t worry about it, Kiri, Spider and I will walk Rini to her cave, we know you’re tired and wanna be with your girlfriend”. Lo’ak smiles and winks at his older brother.
This throws Rini offguard.
“Thank you guys. Rini, see you around”.
“Awh Neteyam it’s a shame you couldn’t accompany me, y/n keeps snatching you away from me and if i’m correct.. she isn’t even your girlfriend.. you should spend more time with me and my friends!” Rini smiles slyly, her tone innocent but her intentions show clearly. Rini hugs Neteyam and whispers something in his ear, which you’re sure she said loud enough for you to hear on purpose.
“If you ever do need a mate that will actually commit, you know your options” she winks and pulls away from his embrace as the group starts to walk outside, irritated.
You stand up abruptly and walk past Neteyam who stood there dumbfounded.
“Y/n” He grabs your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
“Let go Neteyam, I wanna go home” You hate how wobbly your voice sounds when you speak right now.
“y/n, are you crying?” He sounds so worried it makes you even sadder
“i’m sorry baby, im sorry, i didn’t know she was gonna act like that” he pulls your head into his shoulder and strokes your back comfortingly.
“don’t call me that.. im not your girlfriend, and i don’t care how she acts” you say, though your tone and quivering lip betray your words
“y/n..” he pulls you away and cups your face with his gentle hands, afraid he would break you if he was any less gentle “cmon look at me” you meet his gaze and his eyebrows furrow at the sight of your slightly red but watery eyes
“you know you’re the only girl i ever want right? you’re so special to me y/n..why don’t you see that, i want you to be mine so bad, every morning i wake up and pray to Eywa to finally have let you see how desperate i am for you. why must you let someone like rini ruin your day?”
you sniffle, and Neteyam thinks its so cute he could kiss you right now, but he holds back.
“but i am yours nete” you say, unintentional doe eyes looking up at Neteyam that make him melt, he can’t hold himself back anymore .
Neteyam leans towards your face, held by his hands, and he stops right infront of your lips, asking for permission, waiting for disapproval “kiss me y/n” it sounds like a plead, like he’s almost begging, so you do.
you feel your head explode, his lips are so soft, so perfect against your own and you question why you didn’t do this before.
you pull away but neteyam chases after your lips and captures them again. You finally pull away and rest your forehead against his. Neteyam gives you another kiss that lasts shorter than your previous, “i see you, y/n”
you look up at him through your eyelashes and smile slowly
“say it back” he whispers against your lips and you almost give in.
“are you sure? you don’t wanna explore your other options?”
“you are the only option, ever.” you smile.
“i see you, neteyam” and you kiss him again, he whines into your mouth and you have to stop yourself from giggling at the sight of our future olo’eyktan being putty in your hands.
- you hear a sob from outside and later realize Rini stayed behind cuz she thought Neteyam would leave you and go after her but oh was she wrong
- loak kiri and spider dont even realize rini is missing and they start talking shit abt her once they do
- anytime rini saw u and neteyam after this, she would always have her fists balled up and bottom lip quivering
- she thought she still had a chance with neteyam after her eavesdropping on his confession but everytime yall hung out neteyam would be so clingy that eventually she realized he was too inlove with you
- fuck u rini hah hes mine btch
8K notes · View notes
scarlethexelove · 1 month
Text
Please Don't Leave Me
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 4281
Warnings: Angst, Pregnant!Reader, Natasha being an ass, injuries, Depression, Wanda being the bestest of friends.
Part 2: Gone
A/n: Had this one in my head for some time and finally decided to write it. As it always seems these fics just seem to run wild and get longer than I mean them to be. I can tell you all right now I'm pretty sure your not going to like the ending very much 😅
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
“Natty.” You try to get your wife's attention as she moves around the room quickly. Natasha is shoving things in a bag. “Nat.” You try again, but she doesn’t stop. Frantically moving around the room grabbing whatever she can. “Natasha!” You finally yell at her. She still doesn’t stop her movements. “Y/n I can’t right now.” She says shoving the last of her things in her bag. “Nat I have something important to tell you.” You try to reason with the woman, but she just zips her bag throwing it over her shoulder and walks past you. “There are things you don’t understand. I have to go.” You grab her arm and she finally looks back at you. “I really need to tell you this.” You try to reason with her. Your eyes pleading with her just to let you talk. But she shakes her head and pulls her arm from your grasp. “There are more important things than you right now.” She makes it to the door letting it creak open. “We will talk when I get home.” She doesn’t face you, only slightly turning her head before she is gone. “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” You see her hesitate in the door but she shakes her head before slamming the door shut behind her. 
Your heart shatters in your chest as your legs buckle beneath you. A muffled thud is heard as your knees hit the ground. Your hand covers your mouth as a sob escapes the depths of your chest. You pull the small stick from your back pocket looking down at the two pink lines. “I’m pregnant.” You whisper to yourself like somehow Nat will hear you and come back, but you know she won’t. To Natasha her job has always been more important than anything. She loves being an Avenger and helping people, but it always comes at a cost to you. You had a sliver of hope that maybe just maybe this could change that. After what she had gone through in the red room she was pretty sure that she couldn’t get you pregnant but here you are. The prospects of having a child had given you hope that maybe she would come back to you. Be the loving wife that you know she can be. The little pink lines now taunting you as tears splash down on the plastic blurring your vision and the once prominent lines. 
It seems like hours before you finally pick yourself up off the ground. Finally having cried all the tears away. Pulling yourself off the ground as you wipe your cheeks before making your way to your shared bedroom. It is empty, too empty. The book Nat was reading was still sitting face down open to the page that she had left it on. Moon light shining through the curtains illuminating the dark room. You don’t bother turning on the lights or changing clothes as you crawl into the cold bed. Seeming much larger now than ever before. You curl in on yourself, exhaustion from all the tears you have cried catching up to you. A pain in your chest as you finally drift off into nothingness. 
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Over the next few days multiple new stations report of the Avengers fighting one another. The chaos and destruction of a German airport. You place a hand over your lower stomach as the news flashes. ‘Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow has broken the Sokovia Accords. Now wanted for treason against the federal government.’ If you thought your heart couldn’t break more you were wrong. 
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It has been nearly four months since that fateful day. The day your world shattered around you. You had hoped that one day maybe Nat would try and contact you but those hopes had been dashed over a month ago. She had moved on and so should you. You slowly pack your things in the home that you once shared with your wife. You’re not even sure if you should call her that anymore. A single tear running down your cheek at the thought. You still love her deeply but you can’t live like this. You have a baby to think about now, you need to live for them. Placing your hand on your growing stomach as you gently rub your finger up and down feeling their movement and smiling. 
A phone ringing breaks you from the tender moment. You grab your phone looking down to see an unknown number calling you. Your heart stops a moment wondering if after all this time it is finally Nat calling you. You're so distracted by the tight feeling in your chest that the phone stops ringing and the call ends. You still stare blankly at the screen before it starts to ring again. Phone lighting up in your hand once again still showing unknown as the caller. 
This time you press the answer button. Your movements are slow as you bring it up to your ear. You open your mouth but no words come out, your breaths coming out erratic as you begin to panic. Your ear is soon filled with a soft voice. “Y/n/n?” That voice is distinct but not your wifes. “Y/n are you there?” The voice asks again. “W-Wanda?” Your voice trembles as your mind catches up. Your best friend is on the other side of the line. 
This is the first time you have heard from any of the Avengers for a long time. Tony once stopped by but you refuse to let him in. You didn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke through the door. If it wasn’t for him you don’t think you would be in this position right now and maybe your hopes for a better future with Nat would have come true. Wanda had sent a few letters letting you know she was ok. You couldn’t obviously send anything back due to now knowing where she was and the nature of the events and why she was also on the run. 
“Y/n/n?” Wanda’s voice breaks through your mind once again. “I-I’m sorry Wands. What were you saying?” Her words had been muffled by your mind. She shakes her head like you could possibly see her doing that. “Nothing sweetheart. Are you ok?” She can tell that something isn’t right. “Not really. I, I’m alone.” Wanda’s heart breaks for you. She may be on the run but she hasn’t been alone. “I’m tired, Wands.” You know you shouldn’t be thinking that with a child on the way but it has been hard. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you sniffle into the phone. 
Wanda made a decision right there. “Sweetheart, I'm going to send Vision to come and get you.” She knows it could be dangerous to have you with her but she also knows that you’re not a wanted fugitive so if for some reason that she is caught you will be left alone. But she will do everything in her power to keep you safe. She can’t stand to hear you this hurt and down. “W-what if that gives away where you are?” You question not wanting to bring her into any danger. “I’m safe here. If you want to, you can come here. We have to move every so often. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m not going to leave you alone. You always have me.” You cry tears of happiness for the first time in a long time. “Yes.” Your voice is small but hopeful. 
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You land with Vision somewhere in what you believe to be Belgium. Vision never mentioned anything to you about your pregnancy which you are thankful for. You see Wanda bound out of the small quaint house on the outskirts of the town. You watch as she stops in her tracks a few feet away from you. Your head dropping, not wanting to see her reaction. Scared that she wouldn’t want you around any more. 
“Y/n/n.” Wanda says quietly trying to get you to raise your gaze to hers but you don’t look up. Tears well in your eyes, scared to move, scared to look your best friend in the eye. Hands cup your face gently making you look up into green eyes. A soft smile on her face. “You're pregnant.” It’s not a question but a statement from the woman. You nod your head as she pulls you into her arms hugging you as tightly as she can without hurting you or the baby. 
Just then the flood gates break. A sob leaves you as tears cascade down your cheeks into Wanda’s shirt. You bury your head in her neck. A hand rubbing gently up and down your back as you're held for the first time in months. Your legs give out as you clutch to Wanda for dear life afraid that you're going to wake up and she will be gone. Wanda holds on gently guiding you both to the ground as she lets you cry. Your tears soak her shirt as you sob for what feels like forever. Wanda whispers reassurances in your ear as she just holds you. Her gentle motions on your back, not ceasing. 
Wanda lets you get out your pent up emotions. Sitting with you until your sobs turn into sniffles. “She left me. I never got to tell her.” You whisper, still gripping onto Wanda. “What sweetheart?” She asks, trying to get you to elaborate. “Natasha. I-I haven’t heard from her. She, she left that day to Germany. I tried to tell her. She, she told me that there were more important things than myself.” Wanda’s eyes swirl red with anger. How could Natasha do this to you? All she wants to do is fly off and break Natasha like she broke you. But Wanda comes back to reality when you grip her tighter, scared she will leave you just like Nat did. 
“Please don’t leave me.” If it was even possible Wanda’s heart broke for you more. Like herself you don’t have any family. All of yours were gone long ago, but you had found a family in the Avengers, a wife. But that family is now broken but Wanda is determined to show you that she is still your family. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I will always be here for you.” She kisses your head smiling. “And for the baby.” More tears come to your eyes but from happiness. 
“So you and Vision?” You give a watery chuckle. Wanda nudges your shoulder and laughs. “Yeah.” She smiles happily when you pull back to look at her. “So like does he come with a vibrator setting?” You ask half joking half serious. “Oh my god Y/n!” Wanda exclaims, shocked by your bold question. You two laugh as she helps you off the ground leading you into the house. 
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“Are you sure you don’t want me to mention something to Nat?” Wanda asks you softly, causing you to look up from the book your head is buried in. You let out a sigh as this constant conversation. “If she wanted to know how I was doing she could have called me the same way you did.” You rub your swollen stomach. So close to meeting your precious little one. “Wands I know you are looking out for me and I also know how pissed you are at her. I also know that you partly want to tell her to rub it in her face on how royally she screwed up. She has had almost 9 months to find me. And I know that you said she has mentioned that she has done it for my own safety but at least hearing from her once would have been something. Instead she went no contact. The famous Black Widow knows how to send encrypted messages if she really wanted to.” 
Wanda knows how much you are right and every time she has to touch base with the team she has been distant and cold with Nat. She so badly wants to break her heart the way she has to you. She knows how much you still love Nat and would love to be a family. These times are hard though with everyone on the run so she bites her tongue and nods her head to your words. 
To get your mind off of things you put your book down and swing your feet off the bed. “Hey Wands, it's a nice night, maybe we can all take a walk.” Vision appears in the doorway. “That sounds like a lovely idea Y/n.” You smile at the synthezoid before giving a questioning look to Wanda. “Sure.” She nods her head. “But someone is going to have to help me with my shoes.” You chuckle trying to reach down to your feet which you can’t reach. The other two laugh before all of you put on some clothes and help you with yours. 
Wanda and Vision are holding hands as you walk through the streets of Edinburgh, the quiet street clearing your mind as you three walk peacefully. Vision stops Wanda to talk a bit as you waddle over to a window with a news cast playing. You watch on as a breaking news cast flashes on the screen. As the scene plays out in front of you you gasp. “Wanda.” You call for her. The conversation dies between the two as they come up behind you seeing as the screen plays footage of New York being attacked. You all stand there silently as death and destruction is shown on the screen. Tony Stark missing flashes on the screen and Vision looks to Wanda. 
“I have to go.” Vision says kissing Wanda’s hand that is still laced with his. He starts to walk away dropping her hand, Wanda pleads with him to stay. You start to drown them out as you watch the screen. Terrified that you may see something about Natasha come across it. Screams of pain makes you turn around seeing Vision impaled on a staff. “Vision!” Wanda screams, her hands glowing red ready to fight. 
Someone else blasts Wanda from behind sending her flying into a building across the street. With you close proximity you're thrown back hard. Trying to brace yourself you hear a sickening crack as your wrist impacts with the ground. You scream out in pain. “Y/n!” Vision yells when he hears your cry of pain. You turn on the ground seeing him do the same. The two who attacked turned him over on his back and the thing that stabbed him placed the sharp end of the staff on his head.
Vision’s screams can be heard through the quiet streets. You struggle trying to get yourself up knowing your wrist is broken, cradling it close to your chest. You watch as red balls of energy slam into the two creatures throwing them back. Wanda runs towards Vision using her magic and pulling you safely over to him. Pain is written all over her face as she looks over the both of you. She uses her magic to lift all of you off the ground pulling you closer to her as she tries to fly you all away from the area. You all are almost hit by a beam causing Wanda to have to bring you all down. Wanda lands you both down gently laying you on the ground before turning to catch Vision with her magic. 
“The blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Vision says as you see a bright yellow line in his body and he seems to be glitching. “Is that even possible?” Wanda asks, helping him sit up against the wall. “It’s not supposed to be.” He says, you can tell he is in pain. Your adrenaline is pumping so your wrist is just a dull ache at the moment. Wanda hovers her hand over Vision, her magic flowing and pulling the opening closed slowly but not completely. “I’m beginning to think we should have stayed inside.” You mumble feeling guilty that this could have been avoided if not for you avoiding your feelings about Nat. 
You and Wanda are pushed back by Vision as one of the creatures grabs Vision flying off and fighting against a building. The other comes and attacks you and Wanda. Wanda puts a barrier of magic around you. She starts to fight the female creature as your heart races in your chest. 
You lose sight of the both of them fighting. Wanda’s magic dissipates from around you allowing you to move forward looking for your friends. You can hear it now so clearly in your head like she actually is yelling at you. Natasha’s voice tells you to run and protect yourself, but Wanda is your best friend and she has been there for you. So you push that voice away following the commotion. You run into the train station seeing Vision propped against a railing. Wanda stands red surrounding her hands as the two creatures look ready to fight once again. 
Squealing of wheels from the train moving past has you all looking. A dark figure in the shadows looms behind the moving train. The female creature throws her trident-like spear at the figure when the train passes. The figure catching it perfectly as he walks into the light you see Steve Rogers. You try to get up behind the female creature but she quickly turns wrapping her hand around your throat. 
“Y/n!” Wanda screams. The female creature throws you back and you land on your back crying out in pain. You feel a gush of liquid between your legs after you hit the ground. Wings fly in front of you as Sam Wilson collides with the creature. You let your hand drift down feeling the wetness and bring your fingers back up into view, relieved that it isn’t blood, but your heart drops when you realize what is happening. You gasp in pain from the sharp feeling in your stomach. 
Wanda uses her magic again to pull you towards her and Vision. Wanda pulls you into her lap. That is when you spot her in the distance. The hair color may be different but she is still herself. Natasha fights with Steve against the creatures. You have tears in your eyes as you look up at Wanda. “Wands, I think my water just broke.” You groan in pain again. You can see the panic in her eyes as she looks around the area. It’s not long before the fighting is done and the other three walk over towards you three. 
Natasha stops dead in her tracks when she sees you. Your swollen stomach has her chest rising and falling a bit fast. She thinks maybe it could be someone else's but she knows deep down that the baby is hers. She wants to cry but she turns stone cold hiding her emotions. Hating herself for leaving you, for never reaching out in all this time. You cry out in pain causing her to look back to you. You're curled in on yourself in Wanda’s lap. “It hurts.” You whimper.  Wanda holds you closer to her. “I know sweetheart.” Wanda looks to the other three. “We need to get them out of here.” She can see the two men side eyeing her before Steve speaks up. “Quickly, get them to the Quinjet.” 
Natasha moves to help you but you pull away. “I have her, can you help Vision?” Wanda says flatly, Nat can only nod moving away and helping Vision up. Wanda effortlessly lifts you in her arms and you all make your way to the Quinjet. Your contractions are getting strong and closer together. Natasha can only watch from afar as you whimper in pain. Wanda helps you and Vision sits close holding his side. 
“We need to get her to a hospital.” Wanda says brushing the hair sticking to your forehead out of the way. “We will be at the compound in 30 minutes.” Steve explains. “Steve, I don't know if she can last that long.” She iterates looking back down at your pained face. “It’s the best I can do Wanda.” She sighs gently stroking your cheek. “It’s ok Wands. I’ll be o-” Your cut off by another contraction. All Nat can do is look on with regret. 
Once the quinjet finally lands Wanda lifts you in her arms again and runs into the compound they enter and see Rhodey talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. “We need medical.” Natasha says out, causing Rhodey to turn and for Secretary Ross to start arguing. You can’t concentrate on what they are saying but you know it isn’t great. Rhodey ends the call and signals for medical, who come in with Bruce. 
As they wheel you away the team follows. Before Wanda can head in after you Nat grabs her arm. Wanda whips her head around anger evident on her face. “Please just tell me. Is it mine?” Wanda gives an amused chuckle. “Of course it’s yours.” She pulls her arm from Nat’s grasp and follows you in the room. Nat lets tears slip down her face. She left you alone pregnant with her child. Not once contacting you in the last nine months. She had told herself she was doing it to protect you and to keep you out of this life, but she was wrong and she sees that now. She understands now why Wanda became so cold towards her after a few months. She has to fix this. She has to be able to win you back and to become the family she always wanted and she will do anything to get that back. 
Natasha can hear your cries of pain as you go through labor wishing more than anything she could be there with you but you don’t want her to be. But you chose Wanda and she understands why. She soon hears other cries. The crying of her child as they are born. Tears slip down her cheeks as she hears them. The boys know not to go around her or to talk to her at this moment. She is breaking on the inside and all she has to blame is herself. 
An hour later Wanda walks out and comes over to Nat. Her head is down, not looking at the younger woman waiting for a scolding, but that doesn’t come. “You can go meet your son.” Wanda speaks with no emotion to her voice. Natasha looks up and Wanda can see she has been crying but that doesn’t change how angry Wanda is at her. “I have a son?” Nat whispers. Wanda just nods her head and moves out of the way. 
Natasha slips into the room quietly. Her heart stops seeing you laying in the bed with a blue bundle in your arms and a smile on your face. More tears spill as she quietly makes her way over to you. You don’t look at her until she is standing right next to you. “He’s beautiful.” Nat mumbles trying to stop the sob that so desperately wants to escape. You have a soft look on your face and she can’t read it. “Meet Alexander Pietro Romanoff.” You smile down at your son. Natasha lets the tears freely fall. “Romanoff?” She questions you. “Romanoff.” You repeat looking back up at her with a soft smile. She feels a flicker of hope that she can fix this, that she can have her family.
“Do you want to hold him?” You ask her softly and lightly lift him the best you can with your broken wrist. Nat nods and takes him from you holding him in her arms. She has so much love for him already that more tears well in her eyes. You watch her as she holds the baby and cries. 
“I’m sorry.” Nat whispers. “I'm so sorry.” She looks at you with teary eyes. “I know.” Is all you can respond with. She looks back down at the now sleeping boy. Just looking at him and remembering all of his features. She had seen the flicker of green in his eyes, the same as hers. But he looks so much like you. He is just as beautiful as you are. 
Loud beeping makes Nat’s head snap up. Your face is now pale and your eyes are closed. The sheets are staining red between your legs. Doctors rush in as she backs away holding her son close to her chest. He starts to cry with all the noise and commotion. Her heart rate picks up and she starts to panic. The voices of the doctors are muffled to her ears as she feels the blood rushing around. She can only focus on you, your face pale and your body limp in the bed as doctors work around you. They soon wheel you out of the room mentioning something about you hemorrhaging and needing to go to surgery. 
Nat starts sobbing in the empty room. All that is left is herself and her son. She slides down the wall begging to whatever is out there in the universe that you will be ok. That you will come back to her and your son. Promising that she will do better and be better. She will be the wife that she had promised in her vows. She will do anything for you to take her back, just please let you live. She whispers in the emptiness. “Please don’t leave me.”
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luvrgrlellie · 8 months
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pretty mess
pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: in which reader gets sloppy drunk and ellie takes care of her
warnings: mention of puking
“stand up, y/n, right now” ellie said sternly, grabbing your arms and attempting to lift you to your feet. you giggled in response, resisting against her as if ellie trying to get your wasted ass off this random frat lawn was some kind of game. ellie, fed up with babysitting you all night while you got ridiculously drunk, bent down and scooped you up, throwing you over her shoulder despite your protests.
you quickly changed from happy and giggling to mad and yelling. “ellieeeeeyuh. put me down… m’ fine i swearrrr.”
ellie rolled her eyes, your act not convincing her one bit. the whole night that your guys’ friend group had been out, hopping from frat to frat on your college campus, you had been an absolute menace - running away from the group, climbing on any elevated surface you saw, and taking shot after shot with strangers, despite your inebriated state. after finding you chatting up some random group at an entirely different party, slurring your words and unknowingly flashing your pink panties to the whole circle due to your criss-cross applesauce position, ellie decided that you were out of control and needed to go home. you, on the other hand, were having the time of your life and could not disagree more. that was until ellie started heading back to her apartment, jostling you and the tequila-jungle juice-leftover pizza concoction turning in your stomach.
“wait - ellie! stop - seriously stop, I’m gonna…” ellie stopped in her tracks, suddenly knowing exactly what was about to happen. as soon as she placed your feet back on the ground, you bent over and puked up the 15+ shots that had brought you to your current state. her annoyance with you immediately fizzled out and was replaced with concern and an intense need to comfort and care for you.
“ugh, i’m sorry baby. it’s alright, let it out, i’m here,” she cooed, rubbing your back and holding your hair back while you vomited. “let’s get you to bed.”
———————————————————————
20 minutes later, the uber that ellie had decided to call so that you wouldn’t have to make the mile trek back to her apartment while sick had dropped you two off at ellie’s front door. she helped you inside with an arm around you for support, getting you to her bedroom just as you started to feel nauseous again. she sat you down on her bed, and you leaned over to her nearby trashcan to puke again. you wiped your mouth after you finished and tears formed in your eyes as you began to sober up and realize how much of a mess you’d been tonight. you looked up at your girlfriend and a sob escaped your mouth. “i’m sorry ellie I-I-I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“shhh stop, you didn’t ruin my night. c’mere baby.” she lifted you into her lap as you continued to cry. “no more crying, mkay? gonna make yourself sick again.” she pulled you away from her chest to look at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while staring at you intently and adoringly. “so pretty even when you’re such a mess, it’s not fair” she teased, making you crack a small smile. “i love taking care of you, but you gotta listen to me when I tell you to slow down, okay? ‘don’t like you like that in public, especially when you won’t stay in one place and let me watch out for you.” your smile fell, feeling guilty once again at worrying your girlfriend all night just because you can’t handle your liquor. noticing this, she assures you, “hey, it’s okay, i’m not mad alright? just love you and want you to be safe.”
“i know els. i love you.”
ellie removed you from her lap and laid you down in her bed before heading to the bathroom to gather some things to make your hangover better the next day. she grabs tylenol & fills a glass with water which she places on the nightstand beside her bed. shuffling into bed beside you, ellie scooches to your side, guiding your head to lay on her chest. “you’re the bestest girlfriend in the whole world els.”
“yeah yeah I know, now go to bed drunky.”
cute little ellie-takes-care-of-drunk-reader drabble/blurbish thing since i’m drunk right now and wishing ellie was here to make fun of me 💔
xoxo,
a ;)
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quiet-onset · 1 month
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seeking refuge
pairing: carmen berzatto x reader
wc: 1.5k
summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)
a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!
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He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—
“Carm?”
Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”
“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”
Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”
“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.
“Hey, fuck you.”
“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”
You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.
“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.
You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”
It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”
He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”
And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”
You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.
“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.
“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”
“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.
All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.
Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.
And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.
“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”
You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”
“Carmen?”
“Gotta have you again.”
You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.
“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”
“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.
“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”
On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 
It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.
“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”
He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.
One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”
“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”
He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”
And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.
And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.
And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Head spinning from blood loss, Eddie still manages to keep up a steady stream of curses as he lies in Steve’s arms, as he feels the jolt of Steve sprinting through The Upside Down.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking bullshit, fuck.”
“Good,” Steve says, frantic and out of breath. “Good, that’s—keep it up, Henderson says it can be, like, a sorta pain relief? Something about—”
“Fuck.” This time, Eddie chuckles through it. “S’not why I’m saying it.”
“No?” Steve says in that weird, measured tone that just silently screams panic, panic, panic. “Why?”
“Jus’ making sure,” Eddie says, and he knows that doesn’t make sense yet, can’t quite get his brain to work everything out. “Those’d be shit last words, so. They won’t be. You… fuck, ow. You know? Here lies Eddie Munson: fuck.”
Steve laughs, maybe a little hysterical, a little desperate, but mostly genuine. “Yeah, you’re right. That’d be really embarrassing, man.”
Eddie suddenly can’t find the energy to act insulted, even though he badly wants to make Steve laugh again—but it turns out, he doesn’t need to say anything, because Steve keeps talking.
“D’you know what that would be, though? A damn good yearbook quote.”
And Eddie laughs, too—laughs even though it hurts. “C’mon, man, Higgins would never let—”
“Eddie,” Steve manages to drawl out, even as he dextrously weaves through the vines on the ground, like Eddie’s just said something particularly naive. “You think Higgins looks over the yearbooks? You just gotta sweet-talk the yearbook committee, they pay the printers to turn a blind eye, and—”
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s what I’m known for. Sweet-talking,” Eddie says. He tries very hard not to cough, has the horrible feeling that he might tear himself in two if he does.
“Don’t sell yourself short, dude,” Steve says.
And Eddie would blame that on the blood loss for making him hear things, but then Steve’s hands gently squeeze around him like he means it, and…
“So what… what was your yearbook quote, Harrington?” Eddie says. He firmly ignores the fact that his voice is becoming increasingly slurred.
Steve picks up the pace, kicks through the door into the trailer. His breath hitches once, but not from physical strain; Eddie knows that he’s frightened.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve replies, chiding, because he’s so goddamn brave, too. “Not telling you that until we get out of this.”
“Tease,” Eddie says.
But he must not get it out very clearly, because as Steve heads to the Gate, he murmurs, “Stay with me, Eddie.”
There’s some rope Steve had stashed in the corner of the living room, just in case, and Robin and Nancy must’ve made use of it to get Dustin through, because it’s already hovering in the air, waiting for them.
“Okay,” Steve says, half to himself. “I’ve got this.”
Eddie attempts a nod. The room spins.
Or maybe it’s just that they’re moving somehow, that Steve’s pulling them both up the rope, somehow not letting go of Eddie; and then he can hear muted yells from the other side, and he’s being lifted up on his own, like he’s ascending to heaven or some bullshit like that, and he almost wants to demand a re-mark on his English paper, because religious symbolism is fucking hilarious, actually.
“You’re a goddamn trapeze artist, Harrington,” he says, and Steve must hear him this time, because there’s a laugh from just behind him, a fucking beautiful laugh, and then Eddie’s falling, and he’s—
“Oh,” Eddie gasps, and his hand goes to his side instinctively, and he didn’t think he had much more blood in his body left to lose, but… “Oh, shit.”
His vision tilts sickeningly, and right before he passes out, he sees Steve appear in front of him, sees his face turn white.
“Eddie,” he’s saying, “Nance, what do I—oh my god—”
-
When Eddie wakes up, everything is fuzzy, his head full of cotton. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth that he has enough awareness not to panic about, that he somehow knows isn’t blood.
“So?” he says through the fog, lifts his eyelids just enough to see Steve is beside him. “What’s your yearbook quote?”
“Christ, you’re annoying,” Steve says with a smile, but he’s speaking in the thick, nasal tones of someone who’s been crying. “Thought you were on stuff that makes you forget all the stupid shit.”
“S’not stupid,” Eddie says indignantly.
For some reason, Steve’s eyes soften. “If you say so. Just rest right now, Eddie.”
“Can’t,” Eddie moans. He’s already made the mistake of looking up: the lights are too bright, quickly turning into nauseating swirls. “Feel sick.”
“That’s okay,” Steve says. “They said that’s normal. Hey, shh, just lie back. It’ll pass.”
But Eddie shakes his head and—ooh, shit, not a good idea.
“Y’should move, man,” he says. “Don’t wanna puke on you.”
Steve scoffs. “Eddie, you could literally throw up in my hair, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
Eddie laughs, feels a bit pathetic that it comes out wet around the edges. “I just… wanna sleep,” he says, because he does, but he knows the nausea will keep him up—feels abruptly tearful, like he had done as a child with whooping cough, up for the whole night despite his fatigue.
“Here,” Steve says. “Close your eyes.”
And as he does so, Eddie feels a soothingly cool palm across his forehead. Steve. It’s such a gentle touch, such a kind touch that Eddie thinks he might cry—thinks he can only partly blame whatever drugs he’s on.
“Better?” Steve asks.
“Better,” Eddie agrees. And then, like a fool, he hurriedly says, “Don’t stop, though,” out of fear that Steve will draw his hand back at the answer.
Steve doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease him even the slightest bit.
“I won’t,” he says, like an oath. His thumb rubs over Eddie’s temple. “M’sorry you feel shitty.”
“It’s okay. You’re right, it’s passing. Think… think it was just… lookin’ at the lights.”
Eddie sighs without meaning to, lulled by the repetitive path Steve’s fingers are tracing, over and over.
“Mm-hmm. Keep your eyes closed, then.” Steve hums softly, just in thought, not even close to a lullaby, but Eddie feels himself starting to drift off to it anyway.
“It’s a nice room you’ve got,” Steve says. “I would’ve rioted if it wasn’t. Big window. Just a view of the parking lot, sorry, not exactly five stars.” Another hum. “Kinda pretty in its own way, though. It’s getting a bit warmer. I saw—the other day, I looked out and saw these kids, there’s some grass a little bit away from… they were making daisy chains, I think. Was never good at… couldn’t get ‘em to tie right. So I’d just kinda tug at the grass, and… Hey, d’you know, some of the kids—like, our kids, I mean—they don’t even know about the buttercup thing, holding it to see if it like, glows, under your chin? I told Max about it when she got outta here—shh, she’s okay—and she just looked at me like I was crazy. She’s good at daisy chains, man, she told Lucas it was five dollars per flower and he paid it all, wore the damn thing on his wrist for the whole day. Stupidly sweet, but I couldn’t even say so or she’d, like, punch me.”
And Eddie’s used to painting a picture with words, used to creating fantastical landscapes out of thin air during campaigns. But as Steve goes on, talking about the kids (their kids), and flowers, and all the little signs of spring that he can’t see, Eddie falls asleep thinking that Steve’s given him the most beautiful, ever-changing view: how he sees the world.
-
Eddie doesn’t forget about the yearbook, but he doesn’t bring it up, simply because Steve keeps quiet about it.
It’s after a few weeks of the dust settling, reassurances that the nightmare’s over: of seeing Wayne and breaking down in tears of relief, of countless visits from everyone—mostly Dustin, second only to Wayne, of course; Eddie still says Steve’s tied for second place, at least, but Dustin insists it doesn’t count whenever Steve’s only there fleetingly to drop him off before heading to work.
It’s on an afternoon when he’s not expecting anyone, and Steve comes in, drops the yearbook right on top of his blankets.
Eddie looks down at it, hovers his hand over the front cover until Steve raises one eyebrow, as if to say, go ahead.
It doesn’t take long for Eddie to find him. The picture is… there’s something beautifully imperfect about it, as if Steve had been caught by surprise by the flash going off when it did, lips tilted into a smile that’s relaxed rather than the typical rigid, picture-perfect look.
Eddie thinks that he finally gets what Wayne means whenever he says someone has ‘soulful eyes.’
And underneath the little box framing Steve’s picture, there’s…
There’s nothing. It doesn’t stand out, because not everyone on that page had opted to have a quote, but…
Eddie looks up. Steve shrugs, but his eyes are downcast.
“Yeah, sorry.” His voice is quiet; Eddie can hear a touch of embarrassment, and he hates it. “It’s not even… I didn’t even choose to keep it blank, really, the yearbook committee gave the deadline so far in advance, it… I had the time. Could’ve put anything.” He shrugs again. “Guess I couldn’t… guess I just, um… had nothing to say.”
Eddie closes the book. Sets it aside. Doesn’t take his eyes off Steve.
He gets it. If it’s even possible for him to be included in a yearbook, he’s confident he’d do the same—how do you even begin to sum up…? There’s nothing he could say about this year.
There are no words for it. For any of it.
But Eddie knows the ones that count.
“Tell me about work,” he says. He has the feeling Steve’s determinedly squeezed in a visit during his lunch break, his name tag askew.
Steve smiles, wrinkles his nose uncertainly. “But that’s so boring.”
“Nah,” Eddie says. “Maybe I like hearing what you have to say.”
Steve looks up finally; he smiles a little like he had in the photograph, as if something like a flash has surprised him.
And he talks about work.
But it’s more than that; it’s so much more. Eddie’s getting to see through a precious window.
He hears about how Steve noticed Robin wearing odd socks, and he only teased her about it when he was sure it wasn’t a deliberate twist on fashion she was trying out. How the sun meant it was hard to see the T.V, so he drew the blinds when no customers were around, made it feel like him and Robin had their own private cinema. And Eddie smiles fondly when Steve recalls smelling some kind of coconut perfume he couldn’t place, and Robin had started a list guessing names, just because he said it reminded him of a family vacation when he was four.
Eddie sees it all.
He doesn’t need clever one liners, or statements of grandeur.
He just needs Steve’s words.
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norrizzandpia · 8 months
Text
Used (Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: Even in times of pain, they’ll find their way back to each other.
Warnings: very emotional, but happy happy ending, lando’s actually depressed its so sad, cisca norris to the rescue, oscar and lando are enemies for a while
Note: HII ITS HEREEE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT I THINK ITS PRETTY SLAY? ����🏻
In the wake of Lando’s actions, Y/n was left with a broken heart and a hole in her stomach. Constant emptiness plagued her, contradicting the love that had once filled her for a boy who used her and took every inch of her.
She was quiet, once more. Lonely, once more. Oscar couldn’t do anything to remedy the pain she felt, neither could her parents or friends. Simply, she sat within herself, retracing all the memories they shared together.
On the other hand, Lando was faced with the consequences of his actions. While the public didn’t know what happened, they were aware something had gone down with Oscar’s hostile driving toward his teammate every time they found themselves together on a track. If it wasn’t because of that, it was because of the angry fights accidentally had between the two men fans consistently caught on their cameras. And if it wasn’t because of the fights, it was because of the disappearance of interviews. Both drivers not being seen in a room together for a good 4 weeks straight after a particularly aggressive video sourced online of Lando and Oscar shoving each other behind the McLaren Garage. Yelling at each other about something the camera couldn’t pick up on, but angry faces and hands flew about for minutes before Lando’s dad rounded the corner and split them up.
Nonetheless, when Lando went to bed at night, he didn’t think about the fights with Oscar or the negative press he was getting online. He thought of Y/n and only her. His mind replayed moments of her bright smile, a warm feeling lingering in his stomach before his hand drifted to the cold, empty side of his bed and reminded him of his loss. It was almost as if he mourned her. She no longer showed up to races and if she did, her appearances were strategically planned so as to not have the couple run into each other. He had pleaded with Charlotte, McLaren’s PR manager, to “somehow” slip up on their schedules, but she wouldn’t budge. What he didn’t know was that Charlotte had gotten an ear full from Oscar and his parents about how Y/n was not to see Lando. The poor girl had been utterly ruined by him and his extortion of her.
Whether he liked to admit it or not, Lando knew that.
He knew she would never be the same because he had been reckless, and he knew the chances of her ever even looking at him again were slim to none. Still, he allowed his soul and heart to continue being tied to her. If he was being honest with himself, his whole being would always be tied to her, whether she loved him or not.
He tried convincing Oscar of this, of his love for her, but the Australian just continued screaming.
“YOU’RE A DICK, YOU KNOW THAT?” His blonde hair tangled after tugging on it so much as Lando stood in the corner of the room, taking the punches because he deserved them.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Lando whispered, his hands curling in his pockets as his tears threatened to fall.
“SORRY? SORRY WILL NEVER CUT IT FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” His arms flailed around. Oscar’s own tears gracefully fell to the ground as his rage consumed him.
There was a moment as the two boys looked at each other, both broken to the core for 2 completely different reasons, yet over the same girl.
Sighing, Oscar stepped back before plopping onto the couch, “Why’d you do it?” He whispered, his head falling into his hands.
Lando came to sit beside him, “There’s no good reason, but the only thing I can tell you is that I have always loved her, since the moment I saw her. Martin’s bet gave me an excuse to fall back on if she rejected me like I thought she would. When she didn’t and we started going out, I tried to push it away. But, Martin kept calling me and texting me, taunting me with how me and her had actually started. Throughout it all, though, I love her. I continue to love her even though she refuses to see me and I still love her even though she’s blocked my number. I’m starting to think I always will. Love her, I mean.”
Oscar turned his head to the side, capturing the blue eyes of his teammate and the ones that were so clearly defeated, “Really? It wasn’t a joke to you?”
Lando shook his head immediately, “No, of course not. It never was. I tried to explain that to her when everything came out, but she wouldn’t listen. After she shut the door on me when she found out, I tried to knock and ask her to let me in, but I don’t think she heard me because all I heard on the other side was crying. Oscar, I’m so sorry for what I did. If I could take back how it started, I would, but I won’t, and will never, wish to take back the moments we shared together. Even now, when communication between us has stopped, the memories keep me going. Just the memories of her are enough for me. I’ll always be grateful to even have them with her, having been able to experience that kind of love with someone who reciprocated it is something I never expected to feel ever in my life.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have done it. I wish you would have just gotten with her naturally. I really thought you two would get married.” Oscar said slowly, trying to let Lando down easily.
However, Oscar’s attempts failed as the sorrow hit Lando all over again. Flashes of the night when she opened up to him under the sky bounced around in his mind as he wondered what it would have been like to marry her, spend a lifetime with her.
Wiping a hand over his face to conceal the physical signs of his despair, Lando averted his eyes from the boy that reminded him too much of her, “Yeah, me too.”
“Y/n?” Her mother’s voice filtered through the door.
She shifted under the blankets, groaning quietly at the disturbance, but her mother’s next words made her falter.
“Mrs. Norris is here to see you if you’re up for it.” The door creaked open before soft footsteps made their way to her bed, the mattress dipping before a hand came to rest on her side.
In the time she and Lando spent together, Cisca became like a second mother to Y/n. Whether the woman intended for it or not, her soft-spoken voice and gentle, motherly touch had filled Y/n with comfort during times of self-confliction or arguments with Lando or the other men in her life.
“Hi, darling.” Her hand rubbed slowly up and down her torso as Y/n untangled herself from her blankets, sitting up to meet the older woman’s eye.
“Mrs. Norris, it’s so nice to see you.” Her smile wasn’t as big as it used to be, Cisca noted.
Giggling, she smoothed a hand down Y/n’s cheek, “Even after all this time, you still call me ‘Mrs. Norris’”.
They laughed together for a second before silence overtook the moment and Cisca was watching Y/n retreat back into her heartbreak.
Her small voice cut through the stillness, “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Y/n’s head tilted to the side as she pleaded with Lando’s mother to not begin this conversation, for the sake of her healing process. However, Cisca knew, deep down, that this conversation would do more good than bad.
So, she continued.
“He won’t talk about you. He shuts down the moment we mention your name.” Cisca took Y/n’s hands in hers, cradling them as she had cradled her son the night Y/n had blocked his number. Lando had shown up unannounced at his parents’ home, clutching his phone in his hands as if it was the only thing anchoring him. The moment she had opened the door, his eyes told every bit of pain he had tried to force down as he convinced himself he wasn’t allowed to feel grief if he was the one having screwed it all up. His legs gave out and he had fallen into the safe embrace of his mother, clutching onto her as he rambled about losing Y/n. Cisca had brought him into the house and sat with him on the couch all night as he poured his heart out to her, tears and all.
He didn’t leave their house for a week after that.
Now, she sat with the girl who had destroyed her son, just as he had destroyed her. Prepared to try and reconcile something so beautiful.
“If he loved me, he wouldn’t have done it.”
Cisca nodded, completely agreeing with Y/n’s logic, “I understand, but Y/n, we both know this is much more complicated. You two have loved each other for a long time. I would even say from the moment you first met, but I won’t speak for you. When he said he loved you, he meant it. From the start. Yes, he messed up and did something I did not raise him to do. However, Y/n,” Cisca’s hand moved to turn Y/n’s face, forcing her to look his mother in her eyes, “I know my son and I know when he’s gone for someone. He’s utterly gone for you. Hell, he’s so lost without you, the boy can’t even tie his own shoes.”
Cisca wiped away the tears Y/n didn’t even know were falling before the girl in bed whispered, “But, what if he hurts me again?”
Sighing, Lando’s mother scooched to squeeze on the bed beside Y/n, putting her arm around the girl and hugging her into her side, “I know it’s hard, but just give him a chance, yeah? He betrayed your trust and a lot of other things, so it will be difficult to let him in again. But, and this is hard to understand because he was your first everything, what you two had was unlike anything I have ever seen in my entire life and I’ve been married to his father for years. The way you two understood each other was on a level that I think would be a shame to not fight for. You were good for him, really good, and I wouldn’t be a good mother if I didn’t do everything I could to make my child happy again. It just so happens that, in this case, it would also benefit the person he was in love with too.”
Nodding, Y/n hugged the woman tighter, “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”
Seeing as her job was done, Cisca got up and made her move toward the door, but not before she stopped to turn around and look Y/n in the eye once more, “When you talk to him, be gentle, okay? I know it sounds stupid because he should be being gentle with you after everything he pulled, but you don’t know how hard he’s beaten himself up over this. There are only a handful of times in motherhood where you will see your child grieve so hard over someone, they vomit. It’s hard to watch your son destroy who he is because he loved so hard. If you won’t do it for him, do it for me. There’s only so much a mother can take when it comes to seeing her child in pain.”
Y/n smiled lightly as she promised the woman she would be soft with the man she loved.
The man she loves.
“Can you at least shower?” Max asked softly as Lando curled further into his bed.
Sniffling, Lando mumbled, “There’s no one to smell good for. Don’t see the point.”
Max rubbed a hand over his face, hating how his best friend had become the shell of a human, “Lando, it’s for your own health. Please, it’ll be good for you. You haven’t gotten out of bed for a week. I’m worried about you, mate.”
“I don’t ca-” Lando started, but was interrupted by a knock on their front door.
Max’s gaze shifted between his best friend and the slab of wood, not wanting to let Lando leave his sight, yet knowing he needed to open it. He exhaled a breath as he stole a quick glance at the body under all the lumps of blankets before making his way to the door.
Opening it, he sighed in relief at the sight of Y/n, the remedy for his best friend’s turmoil.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but I think it’s for a good reason. I hope it’s for a good reason.” He said as he let her in.
She smiled at him, still a bit nervous to see Lando, but relieved she had finally gone through with it this time.
“Is he here?” She asked quietly.
Max laughed, “Is he here? Yeah, he has been for the last eternity.”
She cringed before making her way toward his room, inhaling a breath before opening the door.
“Max, I’m serious. Leave me alone.” He said, annoyed, from under his pillow. She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face at his voice and common stubbornness. She had missed him like the ocean missed the sun when it disappeared in the night. Missing his soft touches, hushed kisses of warmth, and the light he continually exuded on both good and bad days.
“Lando, it’s me.” She said as she rounded his bed, sitting down on the side of it.
He froze. His brain tried to convince him he was going clinically insane, no longer seeing her in his head but hearing her in his room. However, his heart contradicted the argument when he felt the bed dip and he just knew. He knew it was really her by the way his skin lit up at the close proximity and his breath stopped for a moment before filling his lungs once more like life was returning to his body.
He lowered the blankets. Her face coming into view almost had him breaking down, but this newfound chance at redemption had his brain short-circuiting, and crying so hard he couldn’t speak didn’t seem like a good plan.
“Y/n…” His tone was subdued as if she was an angel, completely struck by her and her existence.
Her hand reached out to caress his cheek. The igniting touch had color pumping through his body again as he leaned into her touch, seemingly reconnecting with his lifeline.
“I thought we could talk.” She said as his eyes fluttered closed, her thumb rubbing circles over his cheekbone.
“Of course,” He said breathlessly, enamored by her and the way she made him feel.
She giggled, a sound that Lando was etching into his brain as if he was going to lose it again, “Okay, but you’ll have to open your eyes for that to happen, Lan.”
He blushed at the nickname. The last time she had called him the shortened name was when she was confronting him over what he had done. The reminder of the moment when she walked out on him hit him hard. He stared at her, scared she had only come back to him to give him a taste of what he could’ve had only to take it away once more.
She must have realized his agony because she was grabbing his hand with hers, coaxing him away from the dark place to come back to her, in the now. The funny part was that she didn’t need to physically bring him back, he would always return to her just by the comforting presence of the person he fell in love with.
“Dating me because of a bet hurt like hell. I thought I would never come back from that kind of pain, but as I rotted away in my room, I realized that, even though you had hurt me so deeply, I still loved you. It took me time to understand what that meant seeing as you have been my first love, my first everything, but I think I’ve got it down, now.” She squeezed his hand as their eyes welled together, “Even though those times we spent together had been created under such a gross circumstance, I wouldn’t want to forget them. Ever. Because I love you, Lan. I was talking to my mom and she explained to me that giving people second chances isn’t always a bad choice, if they’re good for you. That’s when it clicked for me. Giving you a second chance is a no-brainer because you’ve never wronged me before. I fell in love with you and when you fell in love with me, you always showed up. Even when I found out about the bet, you still showed up. You stayed on the other side of Oscar’s Driver’s Room door, asking me to come in before he showed up and forced you away. You’ve always been there for me, always secretly supported me, and wished the best for me even when I rejected you completely. Over this time by myself, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want anyone else to root for me on the sidelines other than you.”
His arms had found their way to her, loosely circling around her waist as he tested the waters. When she didn’t push him away, when her arms twisted around his neck, he leaned in. What she thought would be a kiss was actually a bone-crushing hug that was, surprisingly, way more intimate than any kiss he could have planted on her at that moment. His tears wetted her shirt and hers did the same to him as he whispered how much he loved her in her ear. Softly, he explained to her just how much she made his heart stop, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could go back in time and treat you with respect. I’m so sorry for what I did and for what I put you through, my love. The thing that was so scary for me when I realized how much I loved you was that you had always been in front of me. Like, you’d been standing right in front of me for years before I understood who I needed you to be to me. I never thought that one singular person could change the course of my life and how I lived it let alone someone I had known for so long, but it’s always been you. I’m not sure if you always felt that same way about me, but I have. Once I began looking to you when shit in my life hit the fan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to love anyone the way I love you. It would always have to be you because, if it wasn’t, there’d be no one else to fulfill me the way you have. You came into my life and flipped it right side up, not upside down.”
When his hushed words ended in her ear, she pulled away. Tears tracing the outside of her lips, she scratched at the hair at his nape, something she knew he always loved.
Realizing that he had never fully lost her, Lando whispered an “I love you” before smoothing the hair out of her face.
When he was finally able to see his favorite face, only then did he kiss her.
End.
Tags (thank you for the sweet comments): @tpwkstiles @lqvesoph @hearts4joao @flwr-stella @formula1mount @405rry @msliz @gaslysainz @summerslike11
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heavenblvd · 2 months
Text
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.
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pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.
summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.
warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.
author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.
likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊゚
you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.
he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.
murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.
you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.
your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.
rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.
the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.
your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.
if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.
you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.
rafe had to be eliminated first.
“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”
rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.
you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.
you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.
“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.
expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.
to the wine cellar basement.
and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.
but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.
“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”
you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”
“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.
the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.
before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.
rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.
god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?
rafe doesn’t recall killing you.
he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.
your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.
the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.
rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.
he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.
he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.
of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.
your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.
rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.
your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.
sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”
kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.
the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.
however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.
you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.
or so he thought.
karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.
rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.
he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.
he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.
“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.
nothing. no one. not you.
why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.
rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.
you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.
you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.
that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.
but no. that never came, and never would.
you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.
your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.
why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?
was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?
rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”
sick. not regretful. fucking sick.
sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.
the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.
he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.
“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”
“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”
barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.
rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.
the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.
rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.
“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”
“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.
rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.
“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.
nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.
you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.
rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.
you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”
rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.
rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.
your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.
barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”
he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.
he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.
it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.
your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.
pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.
you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.
rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”
madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.
dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.
he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.
a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.
he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.
rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.
he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.
oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.
he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.
you only frowned. “so you know.”
like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.
he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.
you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.
“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.
he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.
it was you.
“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?
rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.
he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.
he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”
rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.
he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”
you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”
he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”
“heaven?” rafe asked.
you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”
“he’s an angry man?”
“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”
rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.
he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.
rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.
they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.
the earth was consuming you.
he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.
your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.
you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.
however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.
even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.
rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.
and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.
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petrapalerno · 3 months
Text
Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #3
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Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, and violence.
MASTER POST
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PREVIOUS
You’re barely awake when you feel his cocks loosen and slide out of your dripping pussy. 
You don’t know how you’re supposed to keep going after that. You’re sore and stinging, drenched in a strange alien’s cum. This is precisely what you wanted…but you’re not sure if you can rally for a round two with some other barbarian. 
Especially not after that knot stretched you as wide as it did. 
You expect the big purple brute to roll you off to the side and continue his revelry back with the yellow alien woman you saw him with when you arrived. 
But he doesn’t. He takes your used body and tucks you into his arms, carrying you like a limp doll. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the red dirt from your eyes. The particulates sting, and your eyes water, trying to clear the offending matter. 
Staring up at his stubble-covered square jaw, you realize that he’s once again walking away from the crush of the crowd. 
“…Hey,” you cough out. “Where are you taking me? Shouldn’t I go forth and spawn?” Your voice is hoarse as you poke his muscular side. Were you screaming when he fucked you before? Is that why your throat feels so rough? 
He stops walking and tilts his head down at you with a look of disgust. 
“You. Took. My. Knot.” He seethes through gritted teeth. “Don’t think for a second I’m allowing you to sully yourself with another Volkroth’s seed. Did I damage your brain when slammed it into the ground?” He puffs a quick burst of air through his nostrils, pulling you up closer to him. 
“Hey, fuck you,” you cough out. “Where the fuck are we going, then?” You ask, realizing that if he wants to take you somewhere, he will—and you won’t be able to stop him. 
“Homecave,” he grunts. “Stop asking so many questions human, I’m tired of talking.” 
“Well, you picked the wrong gal then, because talking shit is probably the only thing I’m good at.” 
���If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll gag you,” He tells me plainly. 
“Is that a promise?” You grin up at him, despite the aching of your body. 
He looks down at you in his arms and cocks a brow. Without giving you an answer, he sets you on the ground. Your legs shake, still unstable from his ministrations earlier. 
He looks you over, the lower half of your body exposed from the destruction he wrought over your jumpsuit when he tore it off you.
With a smile on its face, the alien reaches out and grabs hold of the tattered remains of your pant leg, which is still wrapped around your ankle. The remaining fabric flutters in the wind behind you. 
As he forcefully tears it off, your leg buckles beneath you and you collapse onto one knee. With swift movements, he ties a tight knot at the center of the strip. Leaning over, he firmly holds your face with his powerful hand, digging his fingers into your cheeks. 
“Open your mouth, human,” he growls. 
“Make me,” you say with lips closed as tightly as you can.
Despite his scowl, he pries open your mouth with ease, his finger slipping between your teeth. His hand still carries the lingering taste of you. No matter how hard you try, his superior strength renders your attempts to bite him futile, leaving your jaw barely able to move.
With his other hand, he pushes the knot between your teeth and pulls the ends of the fabric tight around the back of your head. 
As he runs his finger over your cheek, he whispers, "I like you better this way," before swiftly lifting your body onto his shoulder. 
With each yell into his back, spit accumulates around the gag, making it increasingly uncomfortable. You can feel the fabric's rough edges digging into the corner of your mouth, intensifying the struggle.
No matter how hard you attempt to outdo this imposing barbarian, he matches your bratting blow for blow—and you fucking love it.
As you squirm over his shoulder, he tightens his grip on your ankles, nails digging into your flesh. 
His other hand runs up and down your exposed ass, stroking it in a way that feels too soft for his calloused hand. His palm creeps closer to your pussy, but never touches it. The denial of his touch makes it weep slickness, but you don’t know if he can tell the difference between your arousal and his cum that leaks out of you. 
You don’t think he cares either way.
Before he pushes a heavy leather hide to the side, you swear you can hear him softly humming, as if he’s quite pleased with himself.
He sets you down roughly in front of a central fire; the smoke stinging your already agitated eyes. It takes a moment to feel the soft fur that you’ve been placed on. 
You look down at the thick purple pelt, saliva running down your chin as you tilt your head. 
It feels strange to be placed on something so soft, the feeling so out of place in this rough world you’ve volunteered to be a part of.
You drag your eyes up, adjusting to the lighting of the cave. The walls are covered in more hides in unusual colors. Supplies are gathered up on crudely built shelves.
Behind you, you hear the movement of water. 
You whip your head around to see the rear of the cave open up to some kind of bubbling hot spring. It smells slightly of sulfur and reminds you of the well water you grew up drinking. 
You hear the aliens’ footsteps and face forward. He stands on the other side of the fire. The light from the flames highlighting the sheen of sweat over his chiseled form. He looks at you with hooded lids. His possessiveness over you is as plain as day.
“I’ll remove the gag if you can behave. Speak when spoken to,” he says calmly. 
You nod, unsure if you can keep that promise, but excited to find out what will happen if you don’t. 
He steps around the fire and releases the fabric knot from the base of your skull. 
The soaked gag drops to the ground, and you rub the corners of your mouth and flex your tongue out. 
He pants, his exhalations fanning over you, as if waiting for your snarky response. 
“What?” you ask. For someone who doesn’t want you to talk, he sure looks like he’s expecting you to. 
“Do you have a question?” He snaps. 
“Sure, do you have a name?” Realizing you don’t know what to call him other than asshole. 
“Drohako.”
His name suits him, and you mouth it a few times before you get comfortable with the pronunciation of it. 
He sits down next to you, crossing his legs and letting his monster cocks unfurl as he relaxes. 
He catches you gazing back at him expectantly.
“What?” He says, annoyed. 
“So, Drohako, do you want to know my name?” You ask, already assuming the answer is yes.
"Hush," he murmurs, cutting off my words, before he wraps his arm around me and guides us both down to rest on the cozy furs.
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