#I can even be too sharp for my own family sometimes and that sucks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aechii · 1 year

Note

Heyy, first of all I just wanna say I love your writing and I really really appreciate you writing for black readers 💖 I wanted to request a kylian story about reader meeting his family for the first time, maybe bonding with his mom and Ethan if thats possible 😊 (also are we getting a second part for good luck charm??)

₍⁠₍ ONE OF US ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! boyfriend!kylian x black!femreader

GENRE ?! romance, fluff (😞)

C/W ?! written in 3rd person since i can't write in 2nd person for shit, she/her pronouns used, kylian whines alot, ethan is too mature for his own good lool, KYLIAN ISN'T DRIVING !!!

A/N ?! i luvvvv this request :) im glad you appreciate my works, it means a lot to me since i really want to make my black readers feel included <3

tried to make it not too fluffy (😞) but im sorry if i failed. part 2 of 'good luck charm' will be the next fic released after this so stay tuned for that (hopefully before the end of this week). anyways, hope i did ur request justice, anon 🖤

~°~

one and a half hours on road, and the ending of the everlasting queue of cars and headlights seemed out of sight. a traffic light suspended from the sky, like a descending black orb, and [y/n] tilted her head as she leaned forward to observe it. sighed, resting back as the lowness of her car's hood rendered her efforts futile, and instead, relied on the agonising snail-speed of the moving cars ahead.

"traffic's heavy today."

kylian responded with a quiet hum, tapping her thigh to the beat of the playing song, "yeah, bad day to go out but my mum's expecting you."

fear hovered just beneath her skin and kylian noticed the tremble of her hands. they gripped the steering wheel, as if to strangle it dead, sure that the grooves of the grips had indented into her palms. he gave a reassuring squeeze to her leg, then stretched forward to peck her cheek.

"you'll be alright, they'll love you."

her eyebrows remained crinkled, "are you sure?"

kylian gave an affirmative nod, "of course— honestly they'll love anybody who isn't me."

she knew his words were a tad bit hyperbolic, but it made her laugh anyways.

"really?"

"yeah. their dear kylian can be a handful sometimes."

[y/n] was quick to nod at that, "you're not wrong there."

in any other instance, kylian would find fault in her words and be haste to correct her, whining. yet, he watched how the knots of her fingers grew loose and how her shoulders untensed and settled with ease, and bit his tongue.

silence dallied in the car, save kylian's hums of every song that cried from the radio. the congestion had lightened and they both rolled forward a couple of feet per minute.

"quick warning though, ethan is most likely to drag you to play fifa with him. don't be scared to say no," kylian rolled his eyes after; she found their bond way too endearing and wholesome for her heart to take.

"says that he needs to add to his fifa kill count, and literally verses anybody he can," he proceeded. [y/n] would think he meant his irritation if she didn't peak the slight grin that ghosted his lips. he could never dislike the boy, of course.

"i see where he gets his competitiveness from," she joked, surging the car forward as the light turned green. the motorway is long left behind, and the distant city blended and smothered into the view before them.

"are you one of his kill counts?"

kylian kissed his teeth, and it triggered a hearty laugh from the girl beside him, "that's not even the point. i've demanded rematches and he still refuses to."

"babe, i think it's a sign that you should suck it up and accept that he's better than you at fifa."

"in your dreams," arms were crossed and he ignored her grin, looking out the window, "i'm forcing him to play today."

the gps ordered her to take a left, and she swiftly took the sharp corner, bustling streets dwindling behind them as they entered a quieter road.

"i will be supporting you— although i can't guarantee that i will for all of the games you play."

"so- what? you'll be rooting for ethan?" his words left his mouth as if they were bitter and salty on his tongue.

"mhm."

she only said that to rile up the man, finding humour in his disdain. in kylian's eyes, [y/n] was his, and only his, hype woman.

"traitor."

"love you too."

they fell into tranquil muteness as the sight of kylian's childhood house is unveiled by the skyscraping evergreen trees that seemed to be a habitual plant around this side of paris. it's not entirely big, but large enough that, from the outside, it was obvious that it situated two floors. gated and neatly groomed grass carpeted the front lawn, bright green and dotted with white. daisies, she predicted.

the car undulated to a halt, and [y/n] released a sigh.

"we're here... finally."

kylian shifted in his seat, facing his girlfriend, "yeah, we are." reached to scoop her hands in his, "and as i said, you have nothing to be scared about. i love you, hm? even if they don't like you, which i highly doubt will happen, it won't change a thing, okay?"

nodded and tilted forward to kiss her boyfriend. kylian's hand rested gently upon her cheek as he deepened it, lips tenderly harsh as he attempted to portray his words into action, too. a ping from his phone caused them to break contact, turning it on as he read the text from the notification bar.

mama ❤️ i see a car outside. stopping hogging the poor girl and come inside, it's too hot.

"who is it?" [y/n] asked.

kylian showed her the text and she softly chuckled as she read it, "you heard her. let's go."

they depart, not before kylian gave her hand a reassuring peck, and they amble to the front door.

kylian looked at her, finger at the ready to poke the doorbell, "ready?"

"i think so, yeah."

+_-

greeted with a warm, encompassing hug, [y/n] was pulled inside, her boyfriend complaining behind her as he was left behind.

"okay, forget your own son then," he gruntled, closing the door as the warm air from outside began to mesh with the cold one inside.

fayza, his mother, kissed her teeth. undeniably kylian's mother.

"as if i don't see you more than i want to."

an arm circled [y/n]'s waist, head tucking itself into her neck as lips muttered complaints into her skin. she patted his hand in faux sympathy.

they're escorted to the back garden, filled to them brim with kids no taller than her waist, and chattering adults. it was welcoming chaos, one that made her feel settled and content because everyone was happy, doing they're own thing as they gathered as one family.

and now, she was to be one of them.

broken out of her reverie, fayza's voice cut through the cacophony, and all heads turned toward their direction.

"everyone, meet [y/n], kylian's girlfriend. make her feel comfortable and at home for me," her face was illuminated with a smile.

a little voice, she presumed was of one of kylian's nieces, sounded from just beside them.

"she's very pretty!"

[y/n]'s heart swelled, and she untangled herself from her boyfriend's hold, crouching down in front of the infant, "thank you, love. what's your name?"

she reponded, full of eagerness, "marie!"

[y/n] chuckled, "you have a very pretty name, don't you?"

the toddler nodded, as she signalled for [y/n] to pick her up. arms wrapped around the small girl securely, she stood up, swirling the girl around as she giggled loudly, then began to ask her questions about her and kylian's relationship. her curiosity was overwhelmingly adorable and [y/n] could feel her face muscles ache at the undying smile.

kylian watched from the doorframe, eyes drenched in obvious adoration as his girlfriend began to go around, socialising with the rest of his family. his sister is quick to welcome her with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, ruffling the curls of her daughter in [y/n]'s arms. if he hadn't decided to grow old with the girl, he certainly did now, for the sight of his most beloveds intertwining with so little difficulty made him feel full with joy.

+_-

the little girl in her arms began to grow restless, and with the sweltering heat beating upon her skin, [y/n] unleashed the hyperactive kid, submerging back into the air conditioned space inside. she went to look for kylian, stopping at the door of the living room (overly spacious, but embossed with pictures and trophies, made it feel smaller and more homely than expected) as she noticed two boys frantically clicking button on a controller, tv glowing with running, animated people in a sea of green. decided to not disturb and leave kylian to (hopefully) reign victorious this time round.

[y/n] found herself exploring the corridors of the house, gazing into framed photos hung upon the walls. a family so deeply knitted that not one was left out, and she couldn't help the thought of her face one day being displayed with pride, maybe with kylian beside her, or maybe just her, as she alone was enough to be one of them.

she ventured into the kitchen absentmindedly, meeting fayza stirring into a steam pot, napkin draped over her shoulder.

pushed all her nerves aside as she saw an opportunity to bond with her mother-in-law, "is there anything i can help with, ma'am?"

she was quick to spin around, a smile blooming as she recognised her voice, "you want to help?" [y/n]'s gesture was thoroughly appreciated, but the question left fayza's throat apprehensively.

"yes," then a laugh, accompanied by a permanent smile, "kylian is playing fifa with ethan so i really have nothing to do."

the older woman grunted knowingly, shuffling through the kitchen as [y/n] shadowed her.

"that's all the do when he comes here," a freckled hand is waved, aloof, "don't mind them."

she slid a bowl of freshly washed vegetables, dappled with droplets of water, "dice these for me, dear."

[y/n] acquiesced promptly, and the kitchen swiftly subsided into a warm silence. she chopped them with such experienced velocity, and fayza showed her an approving smile, althought she was too focused to notice.

"you know what you're doing."

the girl turned to the woman next to her, grinning, "have to be, or kylian would be a lost cause."

the guffaw that followed was thick with expectance and genuine hilarity, "you're very funny, looking after that boy isn't an easy task."

"you can definitely tell me about it," she fell silent as she focused on cutting off the butt of the onion, "but i love him, and forever will."

fayza felt her skin buzz with exhilaration and couldn't fight the urge to hug the lady helping her.

"you're such a lovely girl, perfect for my kylian," broke the hug and scanned the face of the girl that had her son immeasurably in love, "stand by him, okay? people out there are harsh, and, yes, i know that he's a strong boy, but with you beside him, he'll be stronger."

[y/n] exhaled, leaning against the counter as fayza started to fry the vegetables that she had chopped, "i won't lie to you and say it's easy because it's not," a hand rubbed down her face, "i don't get why people are so... brutal. it's like the only focus on his negatives when they lose, but praise him when they win, and i see that it gets to him a lot."

fayza knew what they, as a family, holding the name mbappé, just like the one that etched the back of france's golden boy, were getting themselves into. a life no longer hidden, everything was out and vulnerable for everyone to see, and if each blink and breath wasn't scrutinized by 'fans' (as they liked to call themselves, but tend to act otherwise) then something wasn't right.

"that's just how the world is, dear. they're backstabbers, running wild with no inch of humanity left in them. but you have to remain sturdy, be it alone or with the support of other people. and for kylian's case, he has us."

us. [y/n]'s skin crawled with thrill.

"you're part of the family, now, [y/n]," fayza smiled, eyes lined with aged wrinkles, deepened with the peaks and troughs of the past, and still to, with what was yet to come, "one of us."

she smiled, heart clashing with her ribs, "thank you, fayza. it really means a lot."

she returned it, arms agape, "it's nothing, dear. now, come here!"

[y/n] entered her arm, laughing loudly as her mother-in-law kissed her forehead, "and remember, if kylian ever does anything wrong, tell me, and i'll deal with him."

"i definitely will, ma'am."

she was given a disapproving look in return, "ma'am? please, call me fayza, or mum, which i prefer." winked and laughed.

however, their moment was cut short as shouts outside the door began to crescendo.

"—not only are you running away but your running to your girlfriend who i didn't even know was here!"

the kitchen is penetrated by the fury of two boys, of which their ages were miles apart but would think were near by how they acted, kylian's face contorted into a frown, "it would be a curse to introduce her to you, ethan."

the teenage boy gasped, kicking his brother, "take that back!"

"over my dead body!"

ethan scowled back, looking at her, before any trace of his negative expression seemed to disappear into thin air, "[y/n]! oh my days, you're prettier in real life!"

she grinned sheepishly, "thank you, ethan."

kylian, however, found no amusement in his words, hiding his girlfriend behind him, "oh please stop that crap. get yourself your own girlfriend!"

"and you just love hating! i bet your girlfriend is better than you at fifa."

"take. that. back."

"let's see it," he walked towards her, putting on the best puppy eyes he could muster, grabbing and tugging her arm, "please, [y/n]? play fifa with me?"

kylian glared at him, slapping his hand away.

"don't touch her!"

she turned to look at fayza, who nudged her head, "don't worry about it, go and take those hooligans with you."

+_-

10 minutes later, ethan was one goal down, with [y/n] on a aggregate score of 3.

"you're good at this— like good good. better than kylian."

to ethan's satisfaction, his older brother had been summoned by his mother to help her, saying he 'needed to use that football strength to good use'.

"how the hell did he even get a girlfriend like you? way too good for him, in my humblest opinion." she knew his question was far from ill-mannered, and didn't take it to heart. ethan tend to say whatever came to his mind at that moment.

"he definitely tried his hardest to ask me out," [y/n] stated, chuckling at the ever-vivid memory of his unrelenting advances.

"he's never one to give up, is he?"

she shook her head, "absolutely not. gave him my number for professional use only, and he saw the opportunity to flirt with me."

ethan visibly cringed at the fact, "that's embarassing."

"it was cute," she shrugged, "until it actually started to work and it all went downhill- or rather uphill- from there."

ethan's irises glimmered as he attempted a shot, but took in a sharp breath as he missed.

"all i can say is, he loves really hard. hasn't loved anyone as much as you, but from what i hear from him about you, he's deeply infatuated. i think it's scary, at this point," paused to regain his bearings as the ball was within [y/n]'s possession once again, "but, as much as i make fun of him, he's a good person. sometimes too good for his own sake."

he spoke truth. truth that hurt, because kylian's kindness was constantly taken for weakness, but he always, without fail, moved past it without another thought wasted.

"and he hides how much it affects him."

"exactly," ethan responded immediately, then laughed, "you know him just as much, or even more than me."

[y/n] grinned, "happens when you spend everyday with the boy. he's more readable than he thinks."

"or maybe you adore him so much that you just... care."

silence, then, "or maybe that."

it was only the noise of intense clicking and frustrated sighs that filled the room for a few minutes. it was a relaxed quietude, one that none saw the need to disrupt, but ethan wanted to express how grateful he was for [y/n]'s presence in his brother's life. it was comforting to know that he had someone, that wasn't a platonic friend, to confide in and find solitude in.

"you two were definitely meant to be."

"you think?"

"yeah," he looked at her, taking a hand off of the controller to punch her lightly in her arm, "i see you becoming [y/n] mbappé, one day."

"really?" her voice was incredulous, "you see me being one of you lot?"

"come on [y/n]," ethan rolled his eyes affectionately, "you're already one of us."

#work de aechii 🫧#kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe oneshots #x black reader #x black fem reader #footballer x reader #football imagines #footballer x you #kylian mbappe

411 notes · View notes

lovebillyhargrove · 1 year

Text

A follow up to Six kinds of silence

***

That Billy fucking Hargrove. Classic heartbreaker move. Wait till the girl is in love with you, head over heels, and then

Leave.

You aren't even original, Billy.

Do you hear me, Hargrove? You aren't even original!

Steve's slamming the fridge door angrily.

Motherfucker.

No, you can't hear me. Because you're fuck knows where.

Steve is the girl if anyone's wondering.

That morning when Steve wakes up alone and understands that Billy has taken off in an unknown direction, he still has to live his life and go to work. How can a guy actually juggle having a job, dealing with a live car that isn't to be messed with, saving a bro from the evil dimension, falling in love with the said bro, breaking the dead dad news to him and on top of that having his heart this close to shattering?

Because the fucking bro just runs off. No explanation.

And yes, that's how Steve's feeling now. Close to being blown to pieces.

Kissing Billy, him taking Steve's hand and them sleeping in one bed so near each other .. standing on the edge of a high cliff looking down at the white foam of crashing waves, and imagining falling into the abyss, headfirst

but not like in a desperate way, no, in an amazing way, like you have wings and you know you're gonna soar and oh-my-god-is-it-really-happening, the thrill, the ebullience .. but now?

Oh, and the thing is, Hargrove didn't push him away, Hargrove actually said it out loud and left a written evidence that he liked Steve, he wanted this, he wanted to .. fall together with Steve.

Now what?

Now Steve still has to be at Family Video at 9 sharp. And he will come back to an empty house in the evening.

That morning when he goes out of the house, he is in for another surprise. Not just Billy's gone, Harrington's own car is nowhere to be seen as well. Normally, it has to be seen right here, in the driveway, but it's not there, so apparently, Billy has taken Steve's beamer. Driven off into the sunrise. Well, isn't that just fantastic. It doesn't go against the logic though. Billy was mad at his car, still is, will he ever be not mad?

Will he ever come back?

So he has taken the beamer. Okay. Steve drove the camaro for most of the fall anyways. He slides the garage door up and gets into the car. Turns the key, but the car isn't starting. Turns it again. Nothing.

Like, nothing.

Fucking great.

Fucking awesome.

"Hey, I know you're sad. But that's Billy, you know him better than anyone, what did you expect?"

"Okay, that sounded harsh, I'm sorry. To be honest, I didn't expect him to just up and go. And I'm already missing him. It sucks. It also sucks that he left you. But he left me too. We're in this together. Come on, help me out here. I'm kinda getting late for work."

Steve tries again and again but the camaro just

Damn it!

Won't start.

The hell is he supposed to do now?

Steve's getting out of the car. He's looking at it and shaking his head in disappointment.

"Not cool, dude. Not cool."

No Billy, no beamer, and no camaro. He's in not just for one surprise, oh no, it's a triple. Steve's looking around and his eyes fall on his long forgotten bike.

Seriously?

He's already dangerously late, so fuck his life, he has no choice. He's kinda pinned up against the wall here.

Steve is taking the bike and checking its tires. They need pumping, of course they do, he hasn't ridden it in ages.

Steve finds the pump and gets down to business. He sometimes looks up at the camaro

"Like. Really??? Look what you're making me do. I'm gonna ride a fucking bike to work. A bike! Are you happy with that?"

The camaro doesn't look happy. It looks abandoned, it looks frozen, it looks like it wants to be back at the junkyard again.

Fucking heartbreaker.

Steve pumps the tires and is ready to go.

"Hey, I get it, how you're feeling."

"I'm gonna lock the garage. Be back in the evening. Please, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He taps the hood, closes the door and gets on the bike.

***

Robin is amused, Keith is angry but Steve doesn't give a shit.

He wants to crawl in his bed and smell Billy on his sheets, what's left of him.

Robin actually sees something is up and shifts from being amused to wanting to be supportive.

"What's going on, Steve? Is everything okay?"

And Steve just wants to put his head on her shoulder and cry.

Because he feels like a dumb teenager in love, oh wait, he is a teenager in love, and he wants to .. he just wants to be close to him, and he can't.

"Yeah."

"Maybe you wanna tell me?"

"Maybe during lunch break. Keith is watching me like a hawk now."

So he does tell Robin later. Almost everything. He leaves out the camaro coming alive part, tells her they managed to make it from the upside down on their own, tells her that Billy got so upset over his father's death that he just ran away, god knows where. Left a note, clarifying absolutely nothing.

Tells her, he's having feelings for the guy.

Robin just listens, tries not to make any comments, just asks questions to follow the story, and Steve's grateful for that.

"He took off, took my car, his car won't start for some reason .. that's why I'm on the bike, Rob. Well, to be fair, he didn't know his car had some .. issues, so it's kinda not his fault I'm without wheels now. But .. Anyway. Everything sucks."

Robin crunches up her nose and sighs in agreement.

***

It's been two and a half weeks of biking to and from work, and biking or walking to the grocery store.

It's been two and a half weeks of the camaro being just .. dead. It's been standing in the garage like a ghost, cold and distant.

Steve thought about taking it to Old Joe's place again, but decided not to do it. He knows the problem is not in the engine. He knows the problem is in the heart.

It's been two and a half weeks of feeling his own heart hollowed out.

***

Steve's on the couch in the living room, flicking through TV channels. There's nothing interesting on. Or he doesn't want to watch anything. He just wants Hargrove to sit on the couch near him. And then everything would be good.

Life's a joke. Love is a bitch.

Steve's getting up and going to take a shower when the telephone rings.

***

To be continued, ofc

#billy's camaro fic #billy's camaro #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic

86 notes · View notes

supernaturalcharlie11 · 1 year

Text

No one ever talks about how lonely the war is.

How it rips families apart not only by death, but also by distance. We are some of the fortunate ones. Our family possesses enough magic to allow a certain amount of communication. Nothing personal, of course, the spells are too sacred for that. But every message means that my siblings are still alive.

I mostly hear from my sisters. Amethar is fighting on the rough waves of the dairy seas, searching for his newly wed wife. Even though it was the worst decision he could have made, the glimmer in his eyes had almost been enough to stifle my anger.

Almost.

I wish we had the time for him to be young and foolish.

Sapphria would love that. I can’t even imagine what kind of hideous plans the two of them would continue to come up with at Castle Candy. Our youngest sister is a force of nature on her own, but with the creative plans that Amethar cooks up sometimes…

Oh, how I wish we had the time.

Citrina and Lazuli are back at the Castle, keeping our kingdom save from within the church and the library. The war effort looks different for everyone. And if anyone dares get too close… Lazuli will snipe them right off their feet with her magical bow.

Sometimes even I hesitate to use its real name. Being killed by arrows is one of the worst ways to go in this war. Unpredictable. Impersonal. Silent. Lonely.

I weigh Flickerish in my hand. I can only hope that if I die on the battlefield, whoever deals the killing blow will look me in the eyes. Loosing is never honorable. But it would be the closest thing.

---

My steps echo from the hard candy walls. I had felt it from the moment she fell, but within these walls her absence is almost overpowering.

The young gummy knight stares into the air, mumbling again and again what he has already told me and my siblings.

That Lazuli knew what she was doing. That she did it, because she knew it would be worth it.

I don‘t doubt that for a second. But it doesn‘t give me or my siblings much comfort as we put our sister to rest under one of the blooming peppermint trees.

As Citrina says a prayer, a thought enters my mind unbidden. I try to push it aside, because I have told my sisters to get rid of this childish notion many times before.

But this time I am powerless against it.

This isn‘t fair.

Of course it isn‘t. War isn‘t fair. But it is always different when it‘s your own blood on the ground of the land you call home.

It‘s different when the light that goes out lives deep inside your heart.

I had always thought I knew pain through the battles I had fought in the past.

I didn‘t know anything. This pain is blinding and deafening. It cuts my breath short every time I try to suck in the sweet candian air.

And it doesn‘t stop.

Not when I leave again for Ceresia. Not when we hold our ground and celebrate a victory. It never stops.

And just when I thought that I had gotten used to it, a sending reaches me and rips the ground out underneath me.

A second piece of my heart is thrown into darkness as I try to understand how another one of us is suddenly dead. Killed in the shadows by carnish assassins.

Oh, Sapphria.

How could it ever come this far?

But the war doesn‘t wait for the grief to settle. Only days before I finally could have returned to Castle Candy, another sending arrives.

I thought I might get numb at some point, but the pain is sharp and cruel. Nobody can explain to me how it happened, but it doesn‘t matter anyways. Citrina is dead. Killed in the streets in broad daylight.

I have to return home to the only sibling I have left. I have to be there for Amethar and see with my own eyes what in my heart I already know to be true. That I am the last one of the sisters. The oldest who failed to do protect her siblings.

But there is something I have to do first.

The war is not yet over and if I don‘t stop Calroy Cruller, no one else will.

The battle cries echo over the wheat fields even though the front is some distance away. If it were silent, it could almost be peaceful. The golden wheat dances in the soft wind under the rising sun. I had never been one for sentimentality, but in this moment I miss the smell of peppermint flowers in full bloom. It‘s been too long since I have smelled them and the next time I will, comfort will be the furthest from what I am feeling.

The tiniest reflection of something moving towards me is all the warning I get.

Something thuds painfully into my shoulder.

My first instinct is to drop to the ground, but if Lazuli has taught me one thing, it‘s that arrows will always come down. So I run.

The next arrow hits me in the thigh, but I keep running. The pain is sharp and cold. My breath hitches in my throat. Arrows thud against my armor. I can see the tents in the distance. If I can only—

Two arrows strikes true at the same time. One goes through my hand. Involuntarily, my fingers open. Flickerish tumbles to the ground and finds its final resting place next to me as the other arrow digs its way underneath my plate mail.

I am on the soft ground before I know why. Everything spins around me. The arrows don‘t stop coming.

We all have to die.

I just wish I didn’t have to do it alone. Though that seems to be the way all Rock siblings have to leave this plane.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, I suddenly feel it. A presence that I haven’t felt in over five years. Ever since Lazuli did the brave thing instead of coming home.

We’re here. Don’t be scared.

The hole I had carried in my chest ever since they were all ripped away, suddenly fills with warm light as my younger sisters surround me once again. The pain subsides as the darkness eats away at my field of vision. My chest shudders with every breath.

Lazuli’s hand is in mine. Citrina’s lips place a soft kiss on my forehead and Sapphria’s arm curls around my shoulder. A translucent smoke surrounds me that tingles on my skin. They are waiting for me. Maybe Citrina has been right all along. She has always been the most put together of all of us, even though none of us ever admitted it.

The war is lonely.

But dying isn’t.

A last comfort, I think to myself as I close my eyes and let myself drift.

Now it is up to you, brother. I know you’ll do us proud.

29 notes · View notes

spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

Text

Blue Scoops: A Prologue

summary: it was time.

pairing: f!reader (blue) x m!oc oliver raven, eventual f!reader (blue) x javier peña

contents: no smut but 18+, death of family, grieving, depression, break ups, crying

wc: 1.25k

AN: a very soft launch to my baby that i’ve been obsessing over off and on. please, please, do take note of the contents and take care of yourself. grief is a pretty big theme throughout this entire work so keep that in mind. also please do remember that this work is 18+ only as there will be nsfw content. eager to hear your thoughts on this so pls do share them if you read, it’d mean a lot to me!

series masterlist | misc. masterlist

He was old. It was time.

Those words blink in your head like a gas station neon sign, blinding, annoying and completely unwanted.

He was old. It was time.

You knew it was coming but not like this. Just like that, the man who knew you best was gone and now it feels like your lungs are filled to the brim with water. You should’ve been there, should’ve sucked it up, and gone over to help him shovel his driveway. The reason you two were fighting has been dead since you were a teen, and now you’re left to add this to your pile of internal bullshit. Another impossible thing to wade through.

He’s old. He was old. And now he’s just gone.

He was old and it was time but did it have to be like this? Did it have to be out in the cold all by himself? He deserved better than that. He deserved the world, he deserved a granddaughter that would’ve helped him instead of holding a grudge after all he’d been through.

“Ma’am do you want to see him one last time?” Jerry, the man that’s in charge of the arrangements, gives you that warm smile he’s so good at. Sometimes it makes your skin crawl, and sometimes it's a comfort.

This time it's the former, because of course you don’t. Seeing the empty shell of your grandfather sounds like a sick and twisted dream, but you’re all he has left and he deserves respect paid. Somewhere inside of you, you find the strength to say yes but you don’t even recognize your voice.

“We can give you a few more days before you decide how you’d like to handle this.”

Shaking your head, your hand falls to your purse, ready to get this all over with, “No, that’s okay. I want him cremated.”

“Usually we have people give it a few days before-”

You cut him off, mouth setting into a thin line, “I know what I want, we planned for this. I want him cremated.”

Jerry whinces, before smoothing his face back into the warm smile, “Yes ma’am.”

You handle all the payment and paperwork with robotic, empty movements, you mind millions of miles away. When you make it out the car with a manila envelope full of documents, Oliver, your boyfriend is waiting for you.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Please take me home,” You whisper softly as you sit just on the edge of losing it again.

He doesn’t say anything else, just starts the journey to your shared apartment. He doesn’t reach out to comfort you when the tears start to fall, and it's no one’s fault but your own. You’ve been snarky in your grief, nitpicking every single gesture of care he tries to bestow on you. Grief makes you unkind because you’ve never held it quite like this before. It digs its sharp claws into you and makes you lash out.

The process of going through grandfather’s things will be lengthy and time consuming. With little thought and much haste you quit your job as a pastry chef to free up time. In hindsight, you should’ve been more gentle with yourself, eased into it, but you needed something that reminds you of him to latch on to. Through all of the sorting and compiling of his assets and bank accounts, you find out he has a healthy savings —all yours now— and owns a house in your grandmother’s home town, Laredo, Texas. The house is yours now too, and when your mind immediately thinks of escaping there you pack the papers back up and avoid them.

You’re disappointed with yourself because when you thought of escaping, it was alone, without Oliver. And with that thought came relief. Oliver’s been nothing but good to you, he’s not perfect, but he tries and there’s not much more you can ask for. There’s not much more that you would ask for, because its not fair when you’re treating him like this.

As the weeks pass, you glance at the box the papers are in every once and a while, longingly, guiltily. It only takes a month for you to pull them out again, and when you do, you accept your fate.

It’s time to go.

You’re not in the right headspace to be in a relationship, and you know that it's time when the idea of leaving doesn’t even scare you. It makes you feel terrible— sick to your stomach, but not afraid.

Oliver’s trying and so are you, but it's not working. Since your grandfather died it feels like your relationship is a failed handshake that both parties know but can’t execute.

“Oliver?” You ask as the two of you sit down for dinner.

It's another crockpot meal of chicken and rice and broth. The thought of even getting out the can opener or chopping up a vegetable sounds exhausting. Everything, even feeling angry or sinking into the sadness, feels exhausting.

He gazes at you, looking tired with a voice to match, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

Its now or never. If you don’t tell him now the two of you will drown in unhappiness and resent each other. You don’t want, for yourself, sure, but most importantly for Oliver. He deserves happiness even if you don’t think you do.

You set down your fork and take a deep breath, unable to look at him, “I have to leave.”

“What?”

“This isn’t working, we both know that this isn’t working.”

There’s a lull, a deep cove of silence that makes you feel like time has stopped before he speaks again, “Is there any way that I can change your mind?”

It feels cold, but you can’t help the humorless chuckle that leaves your throat, “Do you actually want to?”

“I love you, even in all of this.”

Your throat goes thick from his words, god you don’t deserve him. Sometimes you wonder if you ever have, or if the green jadedness growing inside has earned you a life full of sorrow. A naive life, thinking you’ll have the picket fence and nuclear family while in reality it’s all just an illusion. You’re not even sure you want it anymore, not that it matters, you’re convinced you’ll never have it. And while you love him too and always will, not like this. It can’t be like this.

“Oliver…I don’t think that you should.”

“It's not a choice,” He murmurs and there's defeat written all over him. When he looks at you, eyes sad, the tears in your eyes finally fall.

You take his head into your hands, trying to desperately make him understand, “Neither is me leaving.”

There’s no more explicit talk about the breakup after that besides you giving him a move out date and the address to the house. He helps you pack and it makes you feel even more like shit. He’s sweet, accommodating. You wish that he would yell at you, that he would tell you how much of a bitch you’re being but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t because he’s Oliver. When you pack up your truck, he gives you a tight hug, tells you he loves you. You hug him just as tightly, promise to call, tell him that you love him so much, that you’re sorry.

When you drive away you feel like you’re rotting from the inside, emotion festering beyond its expiration date inside of you. You’ll take your time making your way to Laredo, hoping that somewhere along the way you’ll find some sense of happiness again.

> chapter 1

let me know if you’d like to be on the blue scoops taglist!

pedro taglist: @lesbianhotch, @honeybrowne, @jazzelsaur, @mccn-bcys, @jxvipike, @thevoiceinyourheadx, @hotchs-bitch, @laurensprentiss, @pedrito-friskito, @lola766, @amb11, @vanemando15, @emilianamason, @iamskyereads

#reader x javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #blue scoops #not sfw #arson writes narcos

54 notes · View notes

thruheavenandhighwater · 2 years

Text

Best Nurse In Hawkins [part one]

[[PART TWO]] [[PART THREE]] [[PART FOUR]]

Pairing: Steve Harrington/ Platonic Best Friend Reader

Word Count: 1,731

Requested By: NA

Summary: Steve comes to you after his fight with Jonathan Byers. You're his best friend in the world, so naturally he turns to you for comfort after one of worst days.

Content Warning: Descriptions of Steve's injuries following his fight with Jonathan in season one. Nothing too gratuitous, but it's part of the story. If you see anything else you think I should add, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Or; The three times you fix Steve up after a fight, and the one time you can't.

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Series Masterlist

~~~~

The shrill ring of the phone echoed through your empty home. Well, it wasn't exactly empty. Obviously. You were home, but you were alone. Chemistry book open on the dining room table, notes and worksheets spread around it. Your yellow pencil halted at the sudden noise. You considered letting it ring. But with your parents visiting family in Fort Wayne for the day, you figured you shouldn't ignore it. Just in case.

"Hello?" You answered, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Hey," a familiar voice groaned.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, hi," he sighed. You heard him suck a sharp breath through his teeth. "Can I come over?"

You had to laugh. "You can always come over." There was a pause, less than a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled weakly. "Be there in ten." The line clicked loudly in your ear.

You quickly packed up your school work. Tucking papers into the pages of the heavy book and capping your highlighter while you waited for Steve. Normally, the idea of someone interrupting your weekend study sessions would irritate you beyond words. But it was Steve. Steve was different.

Steve Harrington had been your best friend since middle school. You'd been inseparable for years. Until sophomore year, when he hit his last growth spurt and his acne cleared up. He'd tried to bring you into his world of parties and popularity, but you didn't want any part of it. You were content to sit at home, studying or spending time with family. And he understood.

He'd shared with you before that the life of the in crowd wasn't all it was cracked up to be. "Petty drama, endless one-upmanship, and two faced cliques," was how he described his new found friends over the phone, late into the night after whatever party he was at had ended.

He never stopped being your Steve, though. No matter what. Sure, sometimes he let his status get to his head. He could be snobby, only when he was egged on by the crowd. But he always found his way back. He always kept his good nature, even if he lost it from time to time.

Suddenly three soft knocks sounded from your front door. You smiled to yourself as you pictured Steve on the other side. His shy smile as his knuckles rapped against the wood. What greeted you on the other side of the door was a shock, to say the absolute least.

The first thing you saw was the busted bottom lip. Blood had fallen from it, collecting in the corners of his mouth. Your eyes trailed up his face to the broken skin on the bridge of his nose. Following the trail of blood and bruising you finally saw the worst of it. His left eye was bloodied and swollen almost shut

"Jesus, Steve," you exhaled, opening the door to allow him inside. "What happened to you?"

"Jonathan Byers," he huffed as you closed the door behind him. "'s my own fault. Just need, like, a bandaid or something." He winced, gesturing vaguely at his face.

Taking his hand you noticed his knuckles were scraped. He'd landed a few punches of his own, it seemed. You wanted to scold him, if you were being honest with yourself. The whole town knew what Jonathan and Joyce were going through. In a town the size of Hawkins, it would be hard not to.

But you didn't scold him. You silently took his hand in yours, ignoring the sticky blood that coated your palm. Leading him into the kitchen you set him in the chair you'd just vacated. You searched under the sink for the first aid kit your mother always insisted you'd need someday. You decided that you wouldn't tell her she was right.

Steve rested his elbows on his knees, his forehead planted to the heels of his hands. You knelt in front of him as you flipped the plastic lid of the kit open, setting it beside you on the tile floor.

"Wanna talk about it?" There was silence. It was heavy as it hung in the air around you. He didn't want to talk. And you didn't push him to.

The ripping of the paper packaging was the only noise in the house. You carefully took his hand in yours. He flinched when you applied the alcohol wipe to the broken skin at his knuckles. You blinked up at him, silently apologizing. It probably hurt, but there was no getting around this.

Once satisfied that his hand was cleaned you moved to his face. You couldn't help but to frown at the state of him. Blood had dried on half of his face, staining his normally perfect skin an ugly shade of red.

You rose from the floor suddenly. Turning to the sink as sobs threatened to scream through your chest. You hoped he didn't notice. The running of water seemed to cover the sounds of your sniffles.

When you took your spot back between his open legs you put two fingers under his chin. His eyes met yours as you lifted his face. The heavy air around you was almost too still as you began to press the warm towel delicately to the dried blood that had pooled on the curve of his chin.

He watched you intently. His eyes fixed on your hand as it moved. When your other hand reached forward to cup his jaw, he seemed to finally relax. His eyes closed as he pressed deeper into your touch.

You held his face in your hand as you continued your efforts at his wounds. He remained silent, though you thought it must hurt. Blood tarnished the white towel you'd hastily grabbed from a drawer near the sink.

The only time his eyes opened was when your towel pressed to his cheek. You weren't sure where the blood ended and bruises began. His hazel eyes seemed to burn into yours as you worked. They were hard to ignore.

The silence became just a bit less stifling, the cleaner he became. It was like shedding the proof of whatever happened had lightened a weight on his shoulders. Once you had cleaned all the dried blood from his wounds you tried to stand. His hand shot up and grabbed the wrist of your hand that was still holding his cheek. You stayed where you were.

His hand was soft as his thumb pressed to your pulse. He lingered for a moment. Like he was counting the beats. When he finally released his grip your hand fell unceremoniously to your lap. You looked at each other, really seeing one another for what felt like the first time.

Finally standing, you threw the stained cloth into the trash can. There was no saving it, and you didn't have the energy to try. You ripped a paper towel from the roll and made yourself comfortable, one again, between his knees. You softly patted the towel to his skin.

"It was my fault." Steve suddenly repeated. His voice was so low, so soft that you weren't sure if he meant to say it. "I'm such an asshole sometimes."

You opened a tube of antibiotic cream, squirting a dot onto your ring finger. "Wanna tell me what happened?" You asked, matching his tone as you held his cheek in your hand once more to hold him still.

"It was Tommy's idea," he started, not missing the quick roll of your eyes at the mention of the other boys name. "But I'm the one who did it. I'm the one who got up on that damn ladder. I'm the one who pushed him."

"You pushed Tommy?"

"Jonathan." You nodded, a silent 'oh' on your lips. Your fingers worked tenderly at his broken skin. "I pushed him, and he finally hit back."

You pulled your hands from his face. The sudden lack of contact was cold against his face. He was quiet, watching as you retrieved more cream from the open tube in the kit on the floor. "Kids got a hell of a punch," he said, almost smiling at how stupid he felt about the whole interaction.

"So, why?" You asked. He hummed, his brows furrowing at your question. "Why'd you get in a fight with Jonathan?" Your hands found his face once more as you continued to apply the cream to his wounds.

He sighed deeply. His shoulders fell, relaxing beneath his sweater. "He was flirtin' with Nance."

That shocked you. Steve had never been like this before. He'd been cocky and rude sometimes, sure. But jealousy was new. You didn't like it.

Your hands fell to your lap as you looked at him. "So you beat up a kid whose brother just died… Because he was flirting with a girl you've been dating for what? A week?"

"It-" he started, looking away from you as he took a breath. "It just- Tommy had the idea and I was so mad," he told you. His eyes were bouncing off of every surface in your kitchen. He was looking everywhere but you. "It was stupid. It- it was stupid, okay?"

You were quiet. You didn't have words, honestly. Anger replaced the sadness that had taken over your body when you saw him at your doorstep.

"I don't know what goin' on with me lately," he confessed in a hushed tone.

"Tommy Hagan is what's goin' on," you said. "Listen, you know I love you, right?" You asked, moving your head so that he had no choice but to look at you. He nodded. "'Cause I do. You're my best friend. Always will be, but ever since you started hanging around him and his little shithead friends, you haven't been acting like yourself."

"I know."

"I know you know!" You told him with a small smile. "That's why it's so frustrating to watch."

"For what it's worth, I don't think he'll be around anymore," he sighed. "Pretty much told him and Carol both to fuck off."

"It's about damn time," you laughed, lightly tapping his knee with your fist. "I want my lil old Stevie bear back."

"You got him, honey," he smiled.

"Good," you answered, your own smile growing to match his. "Now go get changed and get your girl back. And tell Jonathan that you're sorry." You told him, your voice becoming stern. "For everything."

~~~~~

This is part one of a four part series I've been working on for a while. I really hope you all enjoy this little story.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, or would like to be tagged in future Stranger Things fics, please let me know. Have a great weekend! 🥰

Tag List: @manyfandomsfanvergent @paradoxicalconundrum

64 notes · View notes

shoyoist · 1 year

Note

REKHA! (taps mic) I’m here to share some thoughts about how I think Kakucho would be the world’s best boyfriend. Here’s why:

ONE. Kakucho is the perfect embodiment of good, in every way you could possibly imagine.

TWO. His love language is acts of service; I can feel it in my tiddies, I just don’t know how to elaborate.

THREE. He’s a great cooker—he doesn’t even hesitate to get up and cook something for you when you’re hungry. Bonus: he looks really hot while cooking with only his boxers and an apron. (Jesus, the take the wheel. No, take the whole damn car because I’m going insane just thinking about it.)

FOUR. He is so attentive to you and so protective. You know that video where a guy covers sharp edges so the girl doesn’t get hurt? And he’s careful so she doesn’t trip? Or hit her head because she’s too distracted? Well, that’s Kakucho. His reflexes to keep you safe come as naturally as breathing.

FIVE. He’s such a good kisser—the type of kisses that makes your brain melt. You can’t even think. It’s like his kisses takes you to another dimension and only the two of you exist. The tongue and lip biting and sucking and hickies… and…. and… Oh, god. I need him really bad.

SIX. I feel like he’s a gentle giant, you know? I mean, he looks intimidating, and for fucks sake, he’s a delinquent, but I feel like outside of that, he’s so gentle…unfortunately I don’t know how to explain LMAO. But anyway, he’s the softest when he’s with you. He’s romantic and chivalrous; he brings you flowers, your favorite snacks and thoughtful gifts.

SEVEN. He can’t fall asleep without you. He needs to be cuddling so he can feel your scent and the warmth of your body. His face needs to be on your neck or your chest. It literally calms him enough so he can relax his body and fall asleep. His best nights of sleep are when you’re by his side.

EIGHT. (glue mic on lips) and his fuckgn MONSTERCOCK HE’S SO THICK AND LONG AND PRETTY AND THE HAPPY TRAIL!!!!! THE FCUHKN HAPPY TRAIL I’M DROOLING JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

NINE. I read this somewhere and thought I should add it here because that’s exactly what Kakucho deserves for being… Kakucho: He deserves the nastiest, sloppiest, toe curling, back arching, leg twitching, fingernail scratching, lip biting, butt clenching, sheet gripping, eye rolling, life changing, tear jerking, gob smacking, mouth watering, mind shattering, planet shifting, soul sucking, gut wrenching, reality altering, tornado twist, bed breaking, mattress soaking, vacuum seal, blood curdling, knee buckling head ever.

TEN. In conclusion, Kakucho is the best. 10/10

Thank you for your time Rekha, and sorry I can’t be normal about him. <3

GIGGLING YOU'RE SO RIGHT RUMI SO RIGHT!!!! he's constantly on the wait for a call from you when he knows you're out— he always insists on driving or walking you wherever you want to go, but sometimes you're out with friends or family so he can't just tag along (it makes him sad but he knows you need your own time! while you're not around he lets izana drag him around wherever he wants to take him LMAO) but he's aaalways checking his phone, just in case you need a ride home or if something went wrong and you need him to pick you up... he's ready to be there for you! he worries quite a lot too, bless his heart ;(

along with acts of service kakucho also enjoys spending time with you<3 if it was up to him he'd never let you be apart from him— he's so comforted and secure to know that you're by his side, safe and happy with him. he fears losing you, has nightmares about it even, so it's always so calming for him when he wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes that you're still asleep in his arms, snuggling up to his bare chest and stealing his warmth<3 ++ SO RIGHT ON THE PROTECTIVE INSTINCT !!!! every time you open a cabinet and squat down to go through it, he's got a hand on the top edge so you dont bump your head there. opens doors for you too, the door to your house, your room, your car, shops, restaurants, you name it!

and i think that even though kaku is sooo big and he's so naturally good at intimacy because of his passionate need for it, he's inexperienced. my baby<33 he doesn't like the idea of having sex with just anyone, he wants love, a real emotional connection— which he never really managed to find until he met you. he's all blushy and wide-eyed and godd he doesn't know what to say while you've got your little mouth wrapped around his dick<333 and when he gets used to it he gets so so good at giving you just the kind of praise you want to hear. "my princess" is one of his favourite petnames to whisper in your ear when he's got you folded in half. "doing so fuckin' well for me, my princess. pretty thing, i love you."

#‶｡ଘ.*+ — [ loveletter ].#‶｡ଘ.*+ — from : [ rumi! ].#NO CAUSE #I CANT BE NORMAL ABOUT HIM EITHER </3 #i love him so much for real!!!#tagging just in case ->#kakucho smut

40 notes · View notes

dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

re: Izzy brain mazes, I adore the interlude where Izzy manages to talk Lucius around to going out in his tank top and is revealed to have been angling for a nude photoshoot. I'd love to read more about how Izzy thinks about Lucius's body - particularly that duality of Izzy being so utility-oriented by nature but exploring a visually artistic hobby like photography.

(ooooh anon I am not quite spicy tonight, but I am listing to starboard and just clear enough for coherency... probably. So away we go. The photo session here is too late in the timeline to be the one discussed in that ficlet, but allow me a little timey-wimey so Lucius can have his tat.)

Izzy chose photography because it seemed easy and adjacent enough to Lucius' interests to be a good strategic move. He could half-heartedly snap photos on his phone and let Lucius talk about artistic merit and that was fine.

Except, just like with Lucius himself, Izzy found himself unexpectedly seduced. To look through the world, a step removed, through glass, had given him the distance to find beauty in the horrid place. Laying on his back, phone in hand, waiting for some asshole, he saw a bird jet above him and it was easy as anything to press a button. To capture the movement of wings against the grey sky.

When Lucius talked him into buying a camera, a bulky monster with it's thick manual, it felt far more real. A thick bulky machine that fit perfectly in his hands and gave him all the excuse he needed to step back from conversation, from life itself and frame it the way he wanted.

When people started to wander into his frame, he figured that out more slowly. People were tricky, full of unexpected movement and unanticipated planes. Once he's successfully taken Teal's photos though, the flood gates opened. There were photoshoots at the Revenge itself, family pictures for Delly every year on Pickle's birthday, drag queens he'd never met emailed him now and again and sometimes he even took those jobs.

All that felt a little like a warmup for this. Nowhere exotic. Just his own bed, in his own place. His own lover spread across the sheets.

"Could you just stay like that for a second?" He asked.

"Mm?" Lucius blinked lazily at him.

"Just...stay."

"M'kay."

Izzy got his camera and kneeled on the mattress beside him.

"Right now?" Lucius' eyes snapped open. "Wait, I can-"

"Stay," Izzy said softly. "Please. You can close your eyes if you want."

"Thought you'd want me to pose or something," Lucius watched him warily, but didn't move.

"I want this. If I ask you to pose, you'll get all stiff and weird."

"Can't even see my dick," Lucius pointed out. "With the sheet and all."

"You're cock isn't the only thing that turns me on, even if that was what this was about," Izzy said absently, adjusting a few things on the camera.

"What is it about?"

"Can't explain it. You'll see."

It was definitely the first time Izzy had taken a picture while he was naked, let alone the subject, but it was hard to be uncomfortable all things considered. He chose carefully, framed each shot, took them as if he had precious film instead of a memory card. Eventually, Lucius started to drift again, probably despite himself.

They had woken up very early, a convenience in circadian rhythms that led to a sleepy rutting. Lucius had come home in the wee hours, tumbling into bed with a grunt, so it wasn't surprising that he was ready for round two of sleep.

His hair was mussed, flattened a bit on one side. His lips were parted ever so slightly. The way his head tilted showed off the long line of his neck and the curve of one shoulder. One hand rested on the sheet as if just about to shove it down or pry it up and over. Fabric gathered by his hip, just covering his modesty by the barest amount.

The cool early light of dawn painted shadows in interesting places as it sucked away the sharpness of color. It wouldn't look quiet black and white, but nor would it give the full story of the pale pink of his lips.

His other arm was extended towards Izzy's side of the bed. The hand open as if waiting to be filled. The dark stain of his tattoo was turned up to the hungry light.

The photos are easy enough to upload and edit, but Izzy leaves it for days. He wants time, wants to sit quietly with them and be alone in case they aren't what he expected.

He's hard on his own work, but he how can he be critical and the upturn of Lucius' wrist? The light dusting of hair on his chest? The sweep of his lashes against his cheek? This was not art that Izzy had made.

Camera is just an eye, he'd told Lucius once, and I'm always looking at you.

He chose his favorite, took care to balance the tone and the color. Left just the barest hint of it behind, enough so the subject didn't look carved from marble, but warm and alive against washed out sheets.

It was a little like a sketch with a soft pink blossom of a bite mark left on the shoulder.

He printed it out and left it on Lucius' pillow on the bed for him to discover that night.

"Heya, goblin!" Lucius called as he came in the door. Izzy looked up from his book as if he could just barely pull his attention away.

"Hey, pup."

"I'm going to get changed and then we can head out," Lucius swept by him, dropping down for a kiss then made his way way to the bedroom. "We shouldn't be late."

"Mm," Izzy agreed vaguely, listening closely.

He heard the second Lucius saw the picture, the sharp inhalation. Then the bedsprings as he sat down. Izzy waited. He couldn't bear to watch in case it wasn't good.

"This?" Lucius came back in the room a few minutes later, still in the clothes he'd come in with. And holding the photo. Very gingerly.

"Yeah," Izzy tossed the book aside.

"I thought you'd want a full on pinup situation," Lucius sat down beside him. Close enough for their thighs to touch. So not mad. Not even annoyed.

"We can do that too," Izzy shrugged. "But I just wanted...guess for you to see you like I see you. Like you do for me when you sketch me. Hell, when you sketch anyone. You make people look loved."

"I do?" Lucius asked, tentative and soft.

"You do," Izzy sighed. "You know you do. Not like I came up with that. That's what that reviewer said ages ago."

"No, I know, but it's different coming from you." Lucius stared down at himself. "I don't know how I look. It's hard to see the forest from the trees."

"Show it to Pete," Izzy suggested. "See what he thinks, huh?"

He'd meant later, but Lucius took out his phone right then and took a picture of the photo, sending it on.

"It would've been easier if you just wanted dick pics," Lucius muttered.

"Those I've got," Izzy reminded him.

"But I'm not a photographer," Lucius said wryly.

His phone pinged. He glanced down and then smiled. Tilted the message to Izzy.

Pete: ❤️❤️❤️ that's my husband. Wanna put that in my wallet.

"Might not shrink down that well," Izzy said amused. (Though later, he will carefully crop the photo down to just the beseeching hand, raise the contrast so the ring will shine golden, the fingers curved as if to keep it closer. That he will send to Pete without words in the email and he will, in fact, see it later in Pete's wallet).

"Maybe I should sketch you again," Lucius set the picture down carefully on the coffee table then turning to Izzy with a crooked grin.

"Any time, pup," Izzy slid a hand around his waist. "But I get a photo for every picture now."

"Oh do you?" Lucius raised his eyebrows.

"Mm. I do. Don't I?"

Lucius studied him for a moment, then nodded, "You do."

They make quite an album together as it turned out. But not just then. They were too busy being late to Frenchie's birthday party for that.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #goblin king and the pup #izzy hands #lucius black

36 notes · View notes

cyanocardiotype · 6 months

Text

Moderately questionable character summaries by AU

SCOUT

.mm: Imagine if your Dad ditched you and wasn't even sorry about it so you had to deal with your flesh just melting sometimes on your own

.sf: Any further allegations of this guy smelling like the ONE werewolf who HASN'T taken a bite at him will result in a lot of yelling and several deaths, even though it's 100% true

.ks: Oh good god the fae genes have made him worse. I didn't know that was possible without making him completely unbearable

.9: Local idiot runs a successful business getting paid to fistfight people in the street; uses proceeds to buy batteries and eat them

.rs: When you think about it a rocket launcher is a lot like a baseball bat and a rocket is a lot like a baseball, except for everything about rockets and rocket launchers, but if you ignore that they're basically identical. Yeah. Do you think we can yell the enemy to death

SOLDIER

.mm: Eight thousand identity crises in a metal box

.sf: Area werewolf gets entangled with local vampire; drinks unusual cocktail; fails to identify flowers he is allergic to; attains magically-mandated fursona. He is inordinately pleased with this

.ks: I don't know what you mean by 'Godly', ALL Americans of any good standing can run on pure patriotism! AMEN!

.9: Do you want to be a vet, just like the rest of all the honourable citizens of this country? Great! Injecting rats with steroids is an excellent way to get started in the profession! You'll have an army in no time :)

.rs: Fire is the greatest American invention, which is why it burns in Red, White and Blue. If you're cold, it's cold; put it on your jacket!

PYRO

.mm: At a certain point you have to accept that there's just no way to prove that you're actually real, and all you can do is move on and do what you feel is right for the situation

.sf: Living for 700 years is really boring. You know what isn't boring? Setting things on fire when you yourself are extremely vulnerable to fire. And grabbing people to yoink their blood but that's a given yknow

.ks: Just because the dragon is DEAD doesn't mean you have to give up on draconic activities. Good grief, what are you, a quitter?

.9: Area man might actually develop pyrokinesis out of sheer frustration if his best friend/longtime crush doesn't stop dancing around the problem and just buy him the goddamned flowers

.rs: 'I am going to cause problems on purpose'

DEMO

.mm: At a certain point destroying yourself will stop being worth it; the only question is whether you've overstepped that point already. Probably. Perhaps it's best not to think too hard about it.

.sf: There are many benefits to being a marine vampire, even if objectively speaking the sequence of events that leads up to such a thing really really really sucked

.ks: Being the only son of a long-standing vampire clan means a lot of things being handed down - traditions, the habit of stabbing other vampires, cool swords, and beef with the Vatican

.9: Guy who kind of longs for the adventure of his youth gets his wish granted when his fertiliser business spontaneously combusts

.rs: You know that comic about the guy who made a sword and was really smug about cutting himself on it because it was so sharp. Yeah

HEAVY:

.mm: The deep-rooted dread of knowing you've surpassed your family completely and utterly and your struggles exist on a scale they can't hope to fight is only matched by the relief that at least you're not an absent father lol

.sf: Once upon a time there were a lot of very evil baby men and then a vampire bird came along and ate all of them. The end

.ks: Come closer. I promise I won't do significant damage to your skeleton with my trusty dwarven tools. I promise I won't tunnel under your house and make the foundations collapse, killing you instantly. I promise my skin is soft and human. Pleeeeease

.9: Imagine you're the only literature teacher in a small town and you're just trying to have a nice day and pretend the Incident didn't happen and then you find out that not only is your brother in law breeding an army of megarats, your boyfriend is the one supplying him with rat steroids

.rs: You know what's good at killing bears? Improvised mega bear traps. You know what's good at killing mercenaries? Improvised mega bear traps also

ENGINEER:

.mm: The flesh is delicate and weak but good lord no I'm not going to upload myself to the cloud, that'd be reckless and stupid. I'm just going to weld some metal onto my skin instead, which is normal and safe

.sf: As per tradition, the Conagher family will now turn its latest scion and hope this one doesn't get staked. Again.

.ks: World's shortest elf (well, quarter-elf) goes into the oil business; decides that the homeland is Texas and promptly gets sort of high just from being in Texas

.9: Area farmsteader has absolutely no bodies buried in the backyard, and absolutely has never asked anyone to help burying any, and absolutely is not guilty about it. He will shoot people over this argument

.rs: Do you ever get the weird feeling that you lucked out tremendously in this world despite not really doing much that's unusual. Weird huh. Anyways who wants a ride with the lasso medigun

MEDIC:

.mm: Unsurprisingly, fucked up robots tend to act a little bit fucked up. Whoops! Better luck next time you bui- oh you're dead. Ok then. Go have fun fucked up robot

.sf: Experimental Log 18 - Five different types of vampire blood and one of werewolf is an acceptable number to have in a human's system, but I do feel like my blood is made of bees

.ks: Have you ever wanted to be Frankenstein AND his monster at the SAME TIME? Or are you a MASSIVE COWARD? That's what I thought

.9: Did you know you can pass off a driver's license with Sharpie corrections off as a medical license around here? Yeah, weird huh. Hm? No, no, you can trust me. I'm a doctor. Here's my medical license

.rs: Be unprofessional enough and it loops around to being efficient again.

SNIPER:

.mm: Area man finds out he's got meat inside him, freaks out, finds out he has metal inside that meat, freaks out, finds out there's meat mixed in with that metal, etc.

.sf: Many things in this world are very obvious, but not worth bringing up when you've finally got a decent number of people who don't mind you chewing on them

.ks: Surely being bitten on the butt by a dingo on a full moon night will have zero lasting consequences. Definitely not worth writing home about. Hahahahahahhaaaaaaaaagh

.9: Guy moves from small town in AUS to small town in the US, swaps bog spiders for mysterious miasma that makes your skin feel like it's being sandpapered off. Is that what they call regret?

.rs: Professionalism is very important when your entire mode of operation involves grabbing someone really close and strangling them. Or maybe just shoot them idk

SPY:

.mm: Man trapped in cage that's like 40% his own making. With pissed off estranged son

.sf: Imagine the biggest asshole you've ever met. Now imagine they ate a god once and won't shut up about it

.ks: Guy who is incapable of lying but so good at twisting the truth that you may as well just give up when he says "Good Morning"

.9: Mentoring the son you ditched while not actually telling him who you are and getting him into the small-town business of causing unsolved crimes is perfectly normal and acceptable behaviour, shut up

.rs: Old man takes advantage of tech to go beyond the speed records of his youth and generally just cause problems and run away from them

#tf2 au #cyano.au #cyano.au.mm #cyano.au.sf #cyano.au.9 #cyano.au.ks #cyano.au.rs

2 notes · View notes

lesp1een · 2 years

Text

Forgiveness. (Shawn x Taker)

Shawn goes to Taker's funeral home to apologize for an untinentional chairshot, comes out questioning all his life choices.

It's a crime i never really wrote something about these two like man they're my favourite ship.

As he crossed the gates of the Underworld, Shawn hoped they gave him the right address, and prepared himself to do one of the few things he never thought he would ever do in his life.

The cemetery was empty. It was almost closing time, the the sun was setting, hiding itself behind a huge land of cypress trees.

Reddish, bloody clouds filled the sky, giving that place an even more ominous aura.

The gravel soil creaked under his feet every step he took towards the funeral parlour, his path surrounded by endless fields filled with stone graves.

Besides his own steps, it was silent. Sometimes, he heard the rustling of the trees and the chirping of birds, but nothing more.

The door of the parlour was left ajar, and as soon as Shawn pushed it, it opened with the creepiest creak, shivers running up his spine as he entered the dark building.

Maybe that was the worst mistake he ever made in his own life. He would get himself killed.

The place looked empty, and Shawn noticed the temperature dropped. It was freezing cold. The only light source was an old oil lamp placed on the wooden table in front of him.

The most noticeable thing in the place were the caskets. It was filled with them, all stacked one above the other against the walls, covering the windows, covering almost every inch of the floor.

Since it looked like nobody was there, Shawn fought off his desire to get the fuck away from that place, and started to look around. On the big desk, which looked more like a working table, laid the most terrifying objects he ever saw in his life. Hammers, sharp scissors and nails, rusty saws, chains, and, the strangest thing among all those torture items, a bouquet of fresh cut lilies and white roses.

He opened every drawer he found. By the time he started to snoop around the deadman's belongings, he had forgotten the reason he was there for.

There weren't a lot of interesting things to look at. He found a framed photo of what looked like a family picture, a big ass necrology, a bunch of romance novels (which was unexpected, and cute) and a leather cover journal. He picked it up, and opened it. It looked like a diary.

Oh, it was about to get interesting, he thought, a big grin on his face, and picked a random page to read.

Every page was signed with the Undertaker's name, so it had to be his personal diary. He had a nice calligraphy, too.

He was about to start reading, but curiosity killed the cat, and he froze as a big figure casted its shadow behind him, covering the light.

He turned around, wide eyes meeting a dark silhouette as the diary fell from his hands right on the floor, his breath sucked out of his lungs by a big hand grabbing at his throat. As soon as the figure was close to him, he saw wide eyes look directly at him, freezing him in place. The Undertaker was silent, staring at him in fueling rage.

"I can... I can explain-" He choked on his own words, big, calloused, cold hand tightening around his throat. He knew he was gonna get himself killed. So he panicked, and tried to kick out of the other's grip.

"What are you doing here." Undertaker spoke in a deep, growling voice, and softened his grip a little, letting Shawn take a deep breath. He coughed up as he tried to answer, shaking in fear. "I wanted to apologize for the chairshot. It was a mistake... I didn't mean to snoop around your stuff, I promise i didn't read anything at all! Please don't kill me."

He cried out, trying to get the other man to have mercy for him. Taker remained expressionless, eyes looking on the ground at the dropped diary, and then at the open drawers.

"I don't believe you." The grip tightened again, and Shawn was sure he was gonna die. He was gonna die and nobody would come looking for him. That canadian motherfucker would be so happy about it. Fuck him, it was all his fault. He was the one Shawn was aiming for. He didn't mean to hit the deadman. He wasn't that fucking dumb.

"Too prideful to seek forgiveness."

It was true. Shawn never said sorry.

That was the reason it took him so long to build up the courage to confront the deadman. That was the reason Bret hated him so much. Because he did him dirty, he knew he did him dirty, and never apologized for that.

But he was not suicidal. He didn't want to antagonize one of the most dangerous men in the industry.

Taker was no man. He was raw power, he was pure strenght made flesh and bone. He could never stand a chance against him without ending seven feet deep into the ground.

"Say you're sorry." the bigger man cornered Shawn, his back touching the table as the other's cold body was menacingly pressed against his. His tone was commanding, his voice deep, right against Shawn's ear. He was so close to him dark strands of hair were brushing against his cheek, hand still thight aroud his neck.

Shawn was sure it would leave a mark on his skin, and that, along with the man's voice ordering him around, trying to get him to say the most humiliating thing, trying to destroy his pride forever, sent an unwanted wave of heat though his body.

Fucking hell, he was about to get killed and still managed to get horny over it.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, shame pooling deep in his stomach.

"Louder." The deadman spoke with earth-shaking force, his words rumbling through the walls, making Shawn shake in fear and anticipation. "I'm sorry!" he then almost shouted, his pride shattering into millions of pieces.

That was the first time he said that to someone after too many years.

Silence filled the room after those words were spoken, and Shawn struggled to look up at the other man, whose expression never changed.

For a moment, Shawn feared he was going to get choked out again, or worse, laughed at.

Instead, the Deadman's hand left his bruising neck, and did the most unexpected thing.

He cupped Shawn's chin, tenderly stroking his cheek with his gloved thumb.

"Good boy." He simply said, and Shawn swore he saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, as Undertaker noticed the other's reaction, his surprise, the tightening of his legs, his reddening skin.

"You're forgiven. You may go, now."

His verdict was proclaimed, and Shawn was able to return to the land of the living, pride shattered and a new striking desire blossoming in his chest.

#wwf #wwe #shawn michaels #undertaker #taker #shawn x taker #hbktaker #writing #wrestling fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

ladydisastah · 2 years

Text

It costs a leg (Unholy blood) (Vael x Reader)

Warning : A bit of angst, Painful death, blood but c'mon, it's a webtoon about Vampires so of course there will be blood.

Also requested

Narrative POV.

You slowly woke up from your slumber, you felt warm. You looked at your hands as they we covered in dirt and soot. You slowly sat down and looked around you.

Once there was a beautiful circus with vibrant colors.

Now, only ashes remained. (ohhh Ambeeerr you will remembeeerrr)

Everything was dead.

You suddenly felt a sharp pain at your left leg. It stung, it burnt, it hurt so bad that tears were streaming leaving tears stain over your ash and soot covered face. It dawned upon you.

Your left leg was gone.

There was nothing left exept for bones and muscles that were barely hanging in. You couldn't feel it and couldn't move it either.

You let yourself slip on the ground as you felt too tired to do anything else.

That night you lost everything.

Your family

Your home

Your beloved animals

And your identity

When you woke up some hours later, you were on a bed and saw that you were dressed in a fortune teller costume. You quickly sat up and looked around you, it was the backstage of another circus. You let yourself feel limp as your hands brushed against something furry. You looked down and saw and at least 11 foot lion that was peacefully sleeping.

How come it was that big? What the hell did it eat? You then looked up and saw crows that were also abnormally big. But their particularity is that they had red eyes. It was unnatural.

-I see that you're awake.

You looked towards the source of noise to reveal a man. He was tall, muscular, had tan skin but overall handsome. He was dressed in white, and had a button up shirt that was entirely unbuttoned revealing his naked upper half. You turned your head to look away with suck ferociousness that you cracked your neck. You winced in pain, which made him rush to you and check your neck.

After he was done, he said :

-My name is Vael and yours?

-I don't know.... (You don't know? AYYYY)

You did know, you just didn't want to remember. Anything that happened that night. Because the circus that was your home is burned, the exotic animals, burnt as well and the people that you cared for where now ashes. Papers that gave you identity gone.

This is a new beginning.

•°•A 3 months time skip•°•

You see in Black Butler how Sebastian sometimes picks up Ciel? Like this?

That was you and Vael at the beginning, he carried you around. Eventually he got you a prosthesis. But it was still difficult to walk in. Daniel was also super helpful, he carried you around sometimes. Eventually you started feeling... Affection towards your saviour. Appreciating his simple gestures of Kindness towards you even more than before.

He was fond of you as well, appreciating the way you interacted with his animals or how you waddled when you tried walking short distances. Sometimes the Meaningful conversations, the almost pillow talks and cuddling. Everything was in peace and harmony.

But everything changed when Yohan attacked.

Yohan decided to visit Vael without warning and he saw you. Vael wasn't there at the moment. Yohan being the sadistic fuck he is, decided to hunt you down in the backstage. He just showed his fangs and it was enough to scare you away.

You were taking small but quick steps to get as far as you can from him. He was taunting you, you heard his voice across the area but didn't know where is came from. You feel down, but decided to keep going as you dragged yourself across the floor.

It didn't take long for him to get you. He bit you in the neck and and left you with enough blood for you to have a slow death.

He then left.

Vael came back only to see yourself lying in a pool of your own blood barely alive and having problems to breathe. He took you in his arms while looking at you. He felt salty tears coming, you were crying too, first because it hurts so bad, and you started feeling light-headed, but also because you didn't want to die. No one is too young to die, but there is one thing:

You weren't going to die without telling him how you feel.

-H-Hey...

-Shhh, don't talk. I'm going to fix you, I'll fix this-

-Just listen okay? I...I...love you a lot. Maybe you don't feel the same way, but I wanted you to know.

-...I love you too, okay? Just...be quiet.

Vael bit his tongue drawing blood before kissing you. You felt the taste of his blood but didn't care of the moment and just swallowed, you drank his blood. When he pulled away the was a string of saliva connecting both of your tongues and blood across both of your lips. After a minute, you felt better and your neck punctures were closing and you weren't so pale anymore.

Vael smiled when he saw you woke up some hours later. He wasted no time in kissing you, you tried to do some tongue action but ended up puncturing his tongue and lips.

He smiled, before simply hugging you. You hugged him back.

🎵This suuuuuuuucks🎵

I'm really sorry.

#unholy blood #vael #yohan seong

5 notes · View notes

nostalgictide · 3 months

Text

Honeybee, I’m Sorry

Trigger Warning 'I think that you deserve some form of apology. So here I am, and here it is. I'm sorry.'

It Runs in the Family

“You know, everyone thought that she drank antifreeze that day?”

“What?”

“Yeah, your aunt wanted an autopsy done. But your mother and I, we just thought ‘What’s the point?’”

Some people need that closure, I thought. It didn’t matter that she tried so many times before, or that she used drugs and alcohol as crutches to trudge on through life. Sometimes, all a daughter needs is closure. She didn’t leave behind a reason. No note, no letter, just an undying need to find peace. Wouldn’t anyone want to know more? I’ve always imagined that it must be hard for people to understand why someone would want to take their own life.

But sometimes I think it might be harder understanding exactly why someone would want to.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder how fucked in the head your mother must be? I mean, we know you’re fucked in the head.”

It felt like a punch to the chest, a blow to the throat, and having all of my teeth knocked out—but all I could do was smile while all the air in my lungs was forced out in a sharp exhale that passed as a laugh. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t even looking at me anymore. He was too busy sucking down the last of his beer and jumping to the next topic like the weight of the world hadn’t just unearthed my grandmother.

Sometimes she feels like an angel and others, a parasite. They say things like that are hereditary. I believe it might be. Mine blossoms when winter takes its place in the air—cold, bitter, dark, and long. It’s not even that I miss the sun. I just miss the warm safety of knowing that it’s easier to crawl out of rain-softened dirt than frozen and snow-laden.

And It’s All Around Me

“Is it fucked in the head, to feel like you’ve never understood life no matter how hard you’ve tried? I mean, does anyone get it? Truly? I’ve never known peace…”

“I get it.” His stare is soft, but it doesn’t settle on me as often as I’d like. If I allowed him, he could unravel my chest and rip me apart until I’m his very own black hole, I think. However, I can’t sit still long enough for him to catch me. I’m always too busy busying myself with this and that. Not even his untimely pleasantries can catch me off guard. “You can talk to me. I hope you know that.”

But I don’t, frankly, I wanted to say. Instead there was a long pause, peppered by birdsong.

You told me that you get it, but how often have you threatened me with your life when things have gotten too hard?

‘I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” You sobbed. “I-... I even thought about the gun in the closet.” So I took you back the very next day.

“I feel like a loser, like you deserve better. I’m just a fucking loser. I think about hanging myself everyday, but I just try to pretend like everything is okay.” Ten minutes later you told me not to worry about it. That it’s not that serious, but it’s all I could think about. How much truth is in your words when you speak them? Don’t you see the way it cracks my every bone and swallows me whole?

“Don’t worry about it. Forget it. I don’t want you to worry.”

And so I’m wearing the ring, aren’t I?

I Can’t Outrun It

I'm a woman, sometimes. Less than a person, most of the time. A creature of habit, nonetheless. And a human longing to be a better one—one who understands their inner turmoil, where it starts, and how to stop the maelstroms. I want to convalesce and work to ameliorate myself from the inside out, but it's hard to stop the spinning and to keep from getting dizzy.

Often, I dream that I am made of wax so that I can chew, soften, and remold the parts of myself that are not good enough. I’ve always believed that I must work hard to find my purpose, but that no matter what I do, it's not enough. Frequently, I wonder if I was born in the wrong body because of how much I hate the way my own skin crawls from me when I look at myself in the mirror for too long.

I dream of speaking honestly with my mother, ‘I understand why you abused me. It was because you endured worse. I think, maybe I forgive you. I think I forgive you. I’ll forgive you when you stop crossing boundaries I don’t know how to set in place.’

There was a crystal ashtray that my grandmother would grab, full of more than old cigarettes. Her fingertips would dig into the ashen remnants of her habits to grip the heavy crystal with white knuckles to hurl it at my mother from across the room. She would blame her daughter for everything wrong inside her head because there was no way for her to make sense of the chemical imbalance. Why do our own brains sabotage us like that? So she consumed and inhaled more chemicals to try to make sense of such an unsound mind, but the scales toppled over a long time ago, and its incessant echo never stopped, until she made them.

There was no balance to be had when her face was already down in the mud in the middle of a battlefield.

She didn't care about breaking her daughter because it served as a reminder of something fragile. It only fueled her anger, I believe, as it highlighted the delicate yet resilient nature of life, something she wanted to escape. Her daughter witnessed her gradual decline and even uttered, "I wish you were dead," but regretted those words when they became reality. When she had to make the heart-wrenching decision to disconnect her mother's body from life support, her mind already gone, my mother lacked the strength to offer an apology for all those moments she yearned for her mother's life to end, just to be liberated from her.

Were you freed, though?

'Cause I lost faith in myself, when I turned away from the one with the longest stretch of embracing arms to hold, to hold, to hold me. So now I'm all alone.’

The generational guilt riddled through my bones buzzes like a wasp nest, but at night, when the sun can’t see my face, I tuck myself away into blankets and try to convince myself that I am surrounded by the soft bellies of bees. Instead of the meaty, rich crunch of an exoskeleton as I reflexively clench my jaw and grind my teeth, I try to imagine the evaporation of nectar with every shallow breath until my mouth is full of honey instead of blood. Sometimes, I find sleep, and even though I'm usually dreamless, my body feels beaten every morning.

I drove a hammer through my alarm clock a few years ago. Now I have the gentle vibrations of a watch latched around my wrist. It doesn’t make getting out of bed any easier, but I don’t come to with a heartbeat on the fritz. I still hit snooze and bury my face back into my pillow, no matter how sweet the idea of coffee sounds in the back of my head. No matter how the scent of an old coffee pot dripping fresh brew reminds me of the best days of my youth, the start of something new every morning after a night of wishing my life away. Now that I'm here, older than yesterday, I find myself wanting to reset the clock, thinking about all of the things I could have done differently, said better in a time in my life that shouldn't even be swimming across the forefront of my mind. The times I drove home drunk in high school. The days I was cruel to people who didn't deserve it. The hours I would eat until I couldn't breathe, only to rid myself of my shame in the shower down the drain.

Do you think I didn’t hear you? Do you think I didn’t see you? All I ever wanted to do was look up to you without having to question my own moral compass. I don’t remember a time I was ever allowed to be a child unless I was alone. And oh, was I lonely.

I often don’t remember how I manage to get out of bed everyday. "Good morning," I greet myself with a contemptuous smile in the mirror.

'Cause God grew too tired to fix the mistakes he made with Love. I think his biggest mistake was making me.'

0 notes

falfasreblogblog · 4 months

Text

2024

shitty irrelevant thoughts/actual blogging

So it's a new year now. To be honest I feel kind of guilty posting things that aren't 'art' online. and to be even more honest than that I feel kind of guilty posting art too.

2023 was... bad. I started off the year with a myriad of trips to the hospital, coupled with several months of starvation and pain, coming out completely broken on the other side.

2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022 weren't exactly great either. It's been death upon death, and hospital visit upon hospital visit. My body and mind have undergone a metamorphosis that feels... Alien. There's nothing quite like losing your physical ability to perform basic tasks to fuel pre-existing body-dysmorphia.

I thought I'd be homeless or dead by now.

The only things keeping me sane have been my friends, online and irl, and a generous amount of highly dissociated media consumption and creation. I lead an isolated life where most of my time is spent in varying levels of pain.

Sometime a few months ago I stopped having dreams and nightmares when I sleep. Maybe that sounds like a good thing, considering most of it was trauma dreams that got so bad I sometimes found myself waking up to the sounds of my own wimpering sobs. But instead of being pleasant it just feels... empty. Wrong. Like something is missing. Like I've run out of feelings.

I had to dissociate pretty hard to manage things this year. My family life is... Turbulent. Showcasing any form of emotion to the words and treatment slung at me by my father and brother usually ends up badly for me. There have been times where I felt unsafe. One time I ran away, despite my physical condition, to stay on a mattress on the floor of an empty room with no curtains. I wanted to die. I spent all my time making music and art to keep myself from going through with it. I dissociated so hard that all of my masochism worsened and warped to the point of homicidal thoughts.

When you're that far away from yourself, with no care for yourself or others, your mangled survival instincts ironically ends up making you very efficient. It makes you 'sharp'. On edge - hyper observant - yet enveloped in a calculating calm. Nothing matters, but everything matters; your prime objective is to end up on top, untouchable by the world.

It's... chilling.

Knowing that it's happening to you, and knowing that you can't just 'turn it off' as easily as others can turn it on.

I want to go back to my real personality. I know they're in there. I'm 'me' right now as I'm writing this, but a very broken version of it. The 'other me' - the calculating one - is still here.

I dont want them/the 'other me' to talk to my friends too much, so I usually isolate whenever this happens. I'm aware there's no such thing as 'another me' - it's a trauma response. And a very potent one at that, considering there's 3-4 of them. Dissociating sucks.

One day, I hope there's only one of me.

Maybe if my body gets better, physically, I'll be able to work on it in peace. If the doctors finally find some sort of treatment for my swelling and infections and pain.

I want to hold somebody and feel whole.

I really want that to happen.

0 notes

i-love-you-all · 7 months

Text

54321 HCs - Sage

I did see the sage ask, but it is not in my inbox anymore bc I did try to write a little on my phone but I think I accidentally deleted it instead of saving bc it wasnt there when I went back to it.

But it's under the keep reading! Also, btw, I'm just finishing up whatever's left in my inbox (so I can go back to AC :)) )

5 things they usually see:

Burns, scrapes, and bruises. We know that she's the main mentor for Radiants (until we got to Neon), so in trying to train these younger radiants, it'd be pretty common for accidents. Like Jett twisting an ankle, Phoenix burning himself and sometimes others, and Neon with her whole issue over self control.

Darkness. I see her as someone who meditates a lot. Her peaceful state of mind is on a nice yoga mat in next to complete silence, and with her eyes closed, both aware and ignorant of the world around her. It's a moment of peace in an otherwise hectic life.

Food. Meals back home are often taken with a family where everyone has their own bowl of rice and shared veggie or meat dishes, and it's a time to be a family. Though she may not be near her family or previous found family, she has new friends that she will probably grow to see as family.

Brimstone's office or a war room. As the primary mentor to many of the radiants and probably within the trust of one of the heads of the protocol, she spends a lot of time staring down plans, schematics, and maps with Brimstone and Viper.

Flowers. I think she's a flower kind of girl who likes tending to plants in her spare time. For the other world agents, this could be how she and Omen bonded: over bonsai tree grooming.

4 things they usually feel:

The cool feeling of her powers as they manifest as ice. She is very in tune with her powers, and I think her hands aren't as warm as regular people's hands. Sure, she could choose another form perhaps, but when she throws her slow orbs or barrier and she feels that rush of cool air, there's nothing like it sometimes.

Her hair in the morning as she brushes it over and over again to achieve that high ponytail. This feels unnecessary, but I wanna point it out because, well, it takes a lot of effort to keep your hair like that, and it's to keep up her reputation/image. But just imagine, she needs to brush her long hair every morning (and when I had long hair, this sucked), make sure that she's washing it and using the right products, and tie it up without bumps or anything. This would be a daily thing too, imo, not just for practicality but also to maintain the image that she's fine, unmovable, if you will.

Injuries/blood. She may insist that she is not just a healer and most would definitely agree with her, but that is one of her roles still, so on the field, with bullets whizzing overhead and pressure on everyone's shoulders, she's the first to get to that injured teammate and get them standing again.

Chopsticks! I totally think she is the kind of person who eats everything with them. I knew a girl who lived in China all her life and left for school, and she would eat pizza, pasta, even attempt to eat hamburgers with chopsticks. I think the other agents give her strange looks sometimes but she has never cared.

3 things they usually hear:

Other agents calling for her. As mentioned, she is the healer, even if she can be more. But Jett calling her about a sprained ankle on the field, or Brimstone trying to summon her for a meeting. She is wanted by many agents for different reasons, and it's well known.

The firing of guns. As we saw in the Lotus cinematic, she keeps her skills sharp and she constantly strives to improve. She puts her self through near impossible training challenges, and relishes the stress and pressure she feels during them.

A few inner voices that echo her doubts, no matter how much she tries to avoid it. Thoughts on how Viper got snappy with her regarding her offer to "heal" Viper. Or how she cannot assist Omen in his search to be whole, or at least learn his identity. There are annoying comments her mind makes up and it sometimes gives her pause. Those are the reasons why she

2 things they usually smell:

Tea. I think green tea and... chrysanthemum tea? (question mark because I'm not sure if that's the English name) It's something she commonly had when she lived in China, and it's the best drink to settle her down after a hard or stressful day. Plus when it gets chilly or too hot, she can change the temperature at which she drink it, and it can help her adjust.

Blood/Death. As a follow up to the injures/blood thing, I think she becomes familiar enough with both to smell it in the air. I don't think it affects her anymore but there were years where she would feel her stomach twist and lurch at the smell. It's almost frightening to her that she doesn't even notice it anymore.

1 thing they usually taste:

Scorn. It's not a literal taste, but I think the first thing that jumped out at me was how different her views were from so many people. Viper chastised her for not understanding her pain and for wanting to hand wave it away, Omen constantly reminds her that her healing means that she takes away from another life, and Reyna sees her as some peaceful hippie - too weak to take what needs to get squeezed out of life for a chance at happiness.

#Not my fave if i'm being honest #but i hope they take her in a good direction still #valorant #valorant sage #sage #valorant headcanons #my writing #answered asks #requested

0 notes

sparklingchim · 3 years

Text

stay with me; m | kth

pairing: taehyung x you

word count: 3.3k

genre: ex-husband!taehyung, smut, angst

warnings: mentions of alcohol usage, grinding, groping, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, slight chocking, marking, finger sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie

summary: maybe the love between your ex-husband and you was gone, but the sexual desire never died.

a/n: just something about ex-husband taehyung entices me🤔 anyways, i hope u like this fic!💘

masterlist

,,I can walk on my own." You wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp, but of course he wouldn't relent and only tightens his hold on your hips.

,,You are drunk."

,,I'm tipsy!" you correct him and one second later you trip over your own feet and cling onto him, fingers clasping his arms in a desperate attempt to avoid falling.

He only exhales a sharp breath trough his nose and doesn't continue to argue with you - if you would insist on only being tipsy while tripping over something non-existent, that was fine. Taehyung could live with that. You already had done enough of arguing during the car ride - or maybe already enough in the past year of your not so perfect marriage.

It was weekend, Jimin threw his birthday at some club and invited all of his closest friends. You knew that Taehyung would be there - he was Jimin's best friend after all - but you still had hope that he wouldn't come. You had avoided gatherings with friends just so you didn't have to see Taehyung several times already.

The kids were over at Taehyungs place on the weekends, but he asked his parents if they could look after them - after reaching out to you to ask if you'd be able to have them, but you said you were also going to Jimin's party - and said he'd come pick them up the next day.

So here you are, having one too many drinks - still not drunk though - and are getting dragged inside your house - that once Taehyung bought for your little family (you didn't have the time or the energy to move out of the house yet) - by your ex-husband.

,,I guess you're sober enough to get into bed by yourself?" Taehyung mocks you with that cold stare, but his iciness is only a layer that he coiled around his actual worry about your condition.

The sudden realisation that Taehyung is going to leave you hit your very hard. After you didn't respond to him, he turns on his heels and starts heading to the door.

,,Taehyung," a tiny plead escapes your lips, your voice small.

You don't want him to leave you alone.

This house is so big and you're so small. So small compared to the memories that once filled this dwelling. But they were no longer there anymore. Sometimes you thought about those times when everything was still so easy-going and perfect, but you locked these memories somewhere inside you when all of that was over. You didn't want to think about the chirpy life and the utter happiness that once found its fundament in this house.

Of course you had been alone over the weekend several times already because Taehyung and you separated months ago, but that lonely feeling clawed at your heart and your only escape to it would - ironically - be Taehyung.

Taehyung sighs like he already expected this reaction. Did he really? You'd like to ask him, but your mouth doesn't open. When it comes to Taehyung you've became silent, always talking in shortcut answers, trying not to have to talk to him at all costs, sometimes even ignoring his whole presence. That's what your marriage turned into and it only resulted in Taehyung and you breaking up with each other.

Of course everyone was shocked to hear the news - you and Taehyung spent 5 years with each other after all - and asked how you both were gonna manage the situation with your little ones. You didn't know the answer to this question at first, but you knew that you wanted to get away from Taehyung and the constant agonising feeling that reminded you of that you both didn't have the love that once drew you together.

Your three year old son and your little eight month old baby girl still don't quite understand why they only get to see their daddy on the weekends plus having to sleep at another place when they are with him.

It was hard, but it had to work out like this.

Taehyung gets you inside your bedroom, a firm hand on your waist.

,,Do you want to change your clothes?" he asks as he sits you down on the edge of the bed.

The tension in the room was buzzing. And looking into Taehyung's familiar orbs oddly dawns a serenity inside you which was quite startling because the only thing you started to associated with this man was the feeling of uneasiness whenever you saw him.

,,No," you mumble, which causes Taehyung to turn around and furrow his eyebrows in confusion. He already walked towards your wardrobe to get some clothes for you. ,,Can you sit with me?" You pat the soft duvet beside you.

Taehyung seems to contemplate your approach, but relents anyway.

You want him. You're not sure if it's because of the alcohol buzzing inside you or the sexual desire - that never faded despite the lack of love in your relationship - that drowns your body in sudden longing for Taehyung.

Taehyung can feel it too. He knows what that stare of yours means and those eyes that darken in lust. Nonetheless, Taehyung wouldn't comment on that. You drank alcohol, you don't know what you want.

,,You're drunk," he whispers.

,,I'm really not."

Your hand reaches for his neck, fingers grazing up till you're cascading your digits through the hair on the back of his head. Taehyung closes his eyes, your comforting touch on his hair was always a soft spot for him.

After a few more seconds you sit up, knees digging into the mattress and Taehyung knows what you're about to do.

,,y/n," he mumbles, but he doesn't prevent you from throwing your leg over his body to straddle his lap.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies so close to each other and the utter sultriness that radiates from Taehyung's body envelopes you. Having you on his lap makes something shift inside Taehyung. He was always malleable when it came to your body.

An inkling of veritable desire lunges in the air and neither of you can evade the accentuating passion.

The proximity of your faces rapidly increases, making your heart beat faster in anticipation.

,,Just stay with me for the night," you mumble against his lips.

You wait, not daring to plant your lips onto his before you're entirely sure that he also wants this as bad as you do.

But Taehyung does. He wants you too. So within a second he captures your lips with his own, his plush mouth languidly moving against yours. The feeling of his lips against yours tickles down your spine, the sheer knowledge that you're on Taehyung's lap, kissing him after months of not having each other like that was overwhelming all your senses. It felt so good.

Even though Taehyung and you didn't touch or kiss one another once you both started arguing a lot, sometimes you still felt the sizzling air and the physical attraction that wanted to escape the cage that you built around it and finally feel him again, but you two never yielded to that longing, the hate that you both felt always won over... Well, up until now.

You start grinding your body against his groin, making both of you moan into the kiss. The deep sounds of his throat only cause you to get hungrier for him.

Taehyung's hands reach down to your butt, cupping your cheeks with his big hands and hiking your tight skirt up. The sensual grinding gives your clit the long-coveted friction.

You feel your panties sticking to your core when the grinding gets heavier and he starts bucking his hips upwards. Both of you retract from the kiss, filling the room with heavy pants as you relish in the pleasure that builds up.

His fingers fumble on the zipper of your skirt, harshly tugging it down and prompting you to stand up to get it off. While you get your skirt off he quickly removes his pants. You immediately settle yourself back onto his lap once he threw his pants away. His bulge wasn't covered by the thick fabric anymore and you can feel his prominent hard on, on your clothed core.

Taehyung guides your hips over his groin, letting your body start right where you left off. He places wet kisses all over your neck, leaving wet trails before sucking on your soft skin. Soon your neck blooms in read bruises.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, moaning against his skin when he moves you faster, groping your ass in his hands.

Taehyung suddenly turns the both of you around, throwing you on the bed. Through pure instict you spread your legs for him, giving him room to settle himself above you. His greedy hands roam all over your body, coming to a stop at the hem of your black top to swiftly tug it over your head. Taehyung cups you breast through the bra with one hand, kneading your full flesh in his palm.

His lips trail kisses over your neck again and you impatiently pull at his white shirt. Taehyung sits back on his heels, dragging his shirt over his body. Your digits instantly graze over his tanned chest when he leans down again, brushing over his hard abs.

His hands sneak under your body, unclasping your bra. Taehyung's mouth latches onto your hard bud once it's free from the fabric, circling and sucking on it. You keen at the feeling of his warm mouth, his other hand tweaking your sensitive bud. When he gives your other nipple the same attention you wrap your legs around his slim waist, putting pressure on his lower back to get the feeling of his cock back onto your needy core.

Taehyung doesn't relent though, pinning your body down and not allowing to pleasure yourself through your shameless grinding.

His mouth wanders down, kissing your belly and the stretch marks that garnish your skin. They are a constant reminder of the two beautiful babies that you brought into this world. Then he lays flat on his stomach, your clothed pussy right in front his eyes. Nonetheless, Taehyung doesn't decide to dive right in despite the prominent smell of your arousal that causes his dick to twitch in eagerness.

He nibbles at your inner thighs, grazing his teeth against your doughy skin and leaving bruises. The longing for him only increases and the squirming of your body tells him how bad you need him.

The need to feel something on your aching pussy gets compelling, so when Taehyung discards your panties in one smooth motion and spreads your folds with his fingers, exposing your pink hole for his eyes, you whimper and buck your hips up. The cold air greeting your cunt and Taehyung's eyes just plainly staring at the sight in front of him prompts your toes to curl.

You almost start begging, but then his tongue darts out, starting to lick from your entrance up to your swollen clit. The simple stripe of his tongue sparks so much pleasure in you and you know it's not going to take long till Taehyung would sent you off into heaven - or perhaps hell if you take the sinful act into consideration.

And when Taehyung starts sucking on your little bundle of nerves it's over for you. One hand keeps you down by your hips when your body starts squirming, the other one squeezes your inner thigh, leaving his prints on the soft flesh.

,,Fuck," you mewl, pushing some strands of his hair away and running your fingers through his dark fluffy locks.

Taehyung's hands leaves his grip on you thigh, his index finger circling your entrance and gathering your juices before plunging it inside your quivering pussy. He moves his finger slowly, enjoying how your walls immediately clench around him and delightfully making room for another finger.

With now two fingers he picks up on speed, your fingers scraping his scalp when you start getting lost in the ecstasy that Taehyung provides for you.

You start palming one breast, the urge to have something to compensate the sensations that rush through your body getting really strong. Taehyung groans at that alluring view, his eyes roaming all over your body to embed every single detail into his memory so he would never forget it.

When he starts flicking his wicked tongue on your clit, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip so harshly that you're surprised to not taste any blood. Taehyung's fingers fuck you so vigorously, his digits brushing against your sweet spot every time he shoots them back inside. The squelchy sounds of your arousal ricochets off the walls.

You don't need much until your whole being gets drenched in euphoria. The sheer fact that you're intimate with Taehyung is enough to drive your crazy. You moan is name out loud, legs shaking ferociously and walls convulsing around his slender fingers. A whiny curse leaves your lips, your fingers tugging at his hair. His now wet fingers slide up to your clit, removing his lips from your sensitive bud to draw slow circles on it.

You cup both your hands on his cheek and he knows exactly what you want. Taehyung immediately yields, coming up from his beloved place between your legs and plants tender kisses on your collarbone. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, still panting heavily as he rides out your high with his digit down there.

You always needed this. You always needed to get enticed in his soothing embrace after Taehyung let you see the stars. Just the knowledge of having him right with you after being so intimate with each other always made you feel even better, so there was no exception for this time, regardless of what you both have been through for the past months. Taehyung always made sure to be there for you after you came. The snugness of his body over yours sheathed your sensuality in a thin layer of bliss before you would continue.

Taehyung's draws of his finger stop soon enough and his face hovers over yours once again. The utter gorgeousness of his face is still breathing taking, even after five years of being with him.

,,You're still on the pill?" he asks and tucks a strand of hair behind you ear. You nod, the beautiful glimmer of his eyes captivating you.

Taehyung quickly shuffles to get rid of his boxers that where getting really tight thanks to his throbbing boner. You're both needy so he immediately glides his tip over your slick folds to gather every bit of your juices before he aligns himself and starts pushing in. The stretch of his cock is welcomed, your walls getting pushed aside by his thick member. It had been so long since something was plunged into you, the last time being Taehyung when you still had a happy relationship.

You close your eyes as you savour the feeling of his cock being inside you after so many months and whimper when he doesn't wait till he's fully in, but bottoms out and snaps his hips forcefully back and rams his cock deep inside of you. You moan in unison and he grabs your leg by your calves to pull it up his waist.

After that one harsh jolt of his hips Taehyung doesn't establish a fast tempo by starting of with a slow rhythm, but instantly assembles a rapid speed. You open your eyes and watch how he lets the pleasure fully enwrap his whole being and gets lost at the feeling of your tight pussy enveloping his hard dick.

Taehyung's low-pitched moans spread goose bumps all over your body, his resonant sounds igniting the knot in your stomach even more.

You don't know if Taehyung had any encounters with other women when you broke up these past months, but at this point that thought doesn't even interest you anymore. Right now he's with you, ramming his perfect cock inside you and moaning your name into the hot air.

You both missed having each other like this, not arguing or ignoring each other, but actually enjoying being together and relishing in the pleasure you both are able to give one another. You can't believe that you're actually having sex with Taehyung again after so much time, but her you are, finally giving into the desire that always sizzled between you.

Taehyung watches how your breast bounce because of his merciless speed, groping your perky tit harshly. You whine, his hand feeling so good wherever he touches you. He then reaches up, his fingers tenderly wrapping around your throat before lightly squeezing.

,,Oh God," you moan, eyes rolling back.

His cock reaches all the right spots, balls slapping onto your skin and leaving you as a whimpering mess beneath him that he created with his skilful movements.

Your amazed at how fast your high approaches again, but maybe it shouldn't be that surprising because you didn't feel anything like this for months now and your body reacted to sensitive to every touch of Taehyung.

His hand comes up from your throat, sliding his thumb between your moaning lips and you habitually enclose your mouth around his digit, sucking on it while looking into his eyes.

Taehyung's face is scrunched up in fulfilment and he curses after you so obediently wrapped your pretty lips around his thumb and your moans getting muffled by it.

Your needy walls clench around his member, making him hiss and causing his trusts to get brisker.

You furrow your eyebrows in rapture and move a hand down to your clit, circling your bud in a ferocious manner. The stutter of Taehyung's hips tell you that he's close too and is about to shoot his cum into depth of you tight pussy.

He withdraws his thumb out of your mouth, running his hand though your hair before harshly tugging at it and presenting your neck to him. Taehyung ducks down, continuing to leave small bruises on your skin like he did before. His lips feel so good on your skin, his sucking sending arousal straight down your already drenched core.

Soon the bubble of pure bliss pops and spreads all over your body. Taehyung feels it and stops his attack on your neck, intently

watching how your whole face looks like while you're cumming - so beautiful.

Your high sets Taehyung off too and it doesn't take long until his hot cum shoots inside you, painting your walls white. He groans and his head hangs low, his whole body getting intoxicated by the feeling of releasing his cum inside you.

Your body jolts, legs shaking frantically and heavy pants leave your lips. You stop drawing circles on you clit, enjoying the sloppy thrusts from Taehyung who rides both your highs out. But soon enough his movements come to a halt too, leaving both of you in a warm afterglow.

Your arms fail to wrap around his neck as he leans away from your body. You seek for his comforting embrace, but the only thing that swathes your body is coldness.

He gets up from the bed, draping his briefs over his naked body.

,,Taehyung," you say meek, eyes following him. Your body needs his assuaging caress, but he isn't there for you.

You assume he is going to come back to you once he gets his briefs on, you already anticipate the comfort of his arms around you, but he doesn't aim for the bed but searches for his clothes that are scattered around the floor. He's getting ready to leave.

You cover your exposed body under the sheets, watching how he puts his clothes on.

You don't need to ask him.

He doesn't need to clarify.

Taehyung won't stay with you.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #dad!taehyung #husband taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #kpop angst #kpop smut #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts smut #bts angst #smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts x reader #taehyung x reader

1K notes · View notes

wandaromanova · 3 years

Note

Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #avengers #scarlet witch #request

396 notes · View notes