#I'm shaking you I'm shaking you I'm dying on the floor
Text
short fanfic ig?
It hurt.
it hurt when Nico realized that he never had liked Percy.
that on it's own didn't hurt, but the fact that he thought he'd had a crush on Percy when really he was just alone and in pain and he liked the comfort of another human being.
which made Nico think that maybe he couldn't feel love.
maybe he was heartless or gross.
he'd never have someone like how Leo had Jason, or Percy had Annabeth, or Hazel had Frank, or Reyna had Thalia.
his face felt warm and his heart hammered as he slumped against the wall in his cabin, feeling his throat begin to close up and his eyes sting.
he curled himself up, shaking, trying to take deep breaths.
no one could hear him cry. It would be to embarassing.
he shuddered, feeling a tear trace down his face.
he remembered how he felt special when he'd liked Percy. but that wasn't real.
he didn't know why it was upsetting him so much.
he didn't know why he was being so overdramatic, why he was crying and shaking in his cabin when he could be of worth.
he didn't know why he was being useless.
the thought forced a sob from his chest, shaking his core as more tears spilt from his face.
he remembered what Will had told him.
"you're having a panic attack" said Will's soft voice in the back of his head.
the same thing that was happening a now had also happened a while ago, after Nico had had another Tarturus flash back.
he breathed deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself down while trying to remember the advice Will had given him.
"go to your happy place, Di Angelo. Try to think of things that make you smile. or laugh. or just feel good".
Will had told him this while rubbing his back in a rythmatic way, tracing invisible circles on his spine.
he remembered that Will had started awkwardly laughing and apologizing for being a dork with horrible advice.
Will had always been there, though Nico didn't know why. Will was constantly looking after Nico though Nico didn't return said generosity.
and yet Will went out of his way to talk to Nico.
to text Nico through the demigod safe phones Leo had desinged.
to make him laugh or smile.
Nico's breathing began to steady slightly, and instead of a clogged throat it just felt dry. he wiped the tears off of his face, feeling his breath shudder.
his heart began to regulate, but spiked again when he heard a knock at the door.
he tried answering, but instead of saying yes, he just made a weird gargling groan with his throat.
the doorknob twisted and the door creaked open, revealing Will Solace who was scanning the cabin for Nico.
"Nico"? he called, his voice startlingly loud compared to the lulled silence of cabin thirteen.
"hey" Nico croaked, now sounding less like a dying frog and more like he had a tissue in his mouth, muffling his words.
"Nico"? Will raised his eyebrows, "what are you doing on the floor"? he creaks the door open further, washing Nico in slivery moonlight.
Will's eyes widen and his surprised expression melts to concern.
"before you ask, I'm fine" Nico mumbles as Will closes the door behind himself and sits next to Nico.
"you've got to stop doing that, you know. I'm a doctor. I know when people are in pain, whether that's physical or mental".
Nico scoffs. "you're more like a school nurse".
"plus, you have red splotches around your eyes. You've been crying" Will adds, ignoring Nico's sarcastic comment.
"well... everyone cries" Nico mutters.
Will sighs.
"why"?
Nico arches an eyebrow.
"I dunno. You're the "doctor". You should know better then me" he answers, rolling his eyes.
"not that, dumbass. why are you crying"? he jabs his finger into Nico's ribs playfully.
another shuddering breath. Silence.
"you don't have to tell me. I know you're apprehensive when it comes to trust. No pressure, Di Angelo", Will says gently.
deep breath.
"I feel..." he looks down at his hands, scars jagged like lightning bolts.
"sometimes I feel like I'm uncapable of... love, I guess".
"what"? will asks incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up to his scalp.
"sorry" he says in a gentler tone, averting his eyes, "but you aren't, Nico. Love doesn't have to be romantic".
"I know, but that's the thing. I want to feel... attached to someone. But I just... I don't... I don't know? like it feels like no one wants to be attached to me, and I'm scared to be attached to someone, because I've lost people before and I'm scared it'll happen again because it's horrible. And what if I mess up? And what's it supposed to feel like? I've never really truely liked someone, even when I thought I did. So was it fake? am I fake"?
Nico stops, realizing just how overdramatic he was being.
Will breathes deeply, chewing his lip like he does when thinking.
"Nico... how do you know"?
"what"?
"how do you know that no one wants to be attached to you"?
Nico's eyes widen, and he looks down awkwardly.
"maybe... maybe the person you liked before, you really did like, just not love. They're different things. Sometimes when you like someone, it's almost just like friendship with added steps. When you love someone, it's so many more steps, so many steps that it clouds the friendship aspect, though it's still there", Will says, his eyes trained on Nico's.
"maybe".... Nico whispers, trailing off into silence.
"Will"?
"yeah"?
Nico paused, but asks carefully, "have you ever loved someone like that"?
The corners of Will's lips curve upwards, his dimples reappearing.
"yeah".
Nico nods, not knowing exactly how to say what he wants to, but knowing exactly what it would sound like.
"thanks for talking to me, Di Angelo. I mean it".
Nico smiles, which hurts his cheeks slightly.
"thanks for listening", he replies as he rests his head on Will's shoulder, listening to the sound of his heavy breathing.
#fanfic#fanfiction#gay#bisexual#mlm#will solace#Nico Di angelo#fluff#angst#pjo#hoo#toa#tsats#angst with a happy ending#will x nico#Nico x will#solangelo#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fanfiction#queer#love#cute
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀
she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz
notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.
“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.
“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”
shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”
“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.
utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.
“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.
intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”
“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.
“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.
utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.
“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.
“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.
utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”
from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.
with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.
bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.
“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.
“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”
“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.
a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.
“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.
“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.
during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.
“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.
“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”
you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.
“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.
you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.
“that’s what love does to a man.”
“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”
satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.
“how much?”
“excuse me?”
“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.
you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.
shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”
suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”
“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.
she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”
you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.
trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”
“i’m buying you that dress.”
“o-okay.”
half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.
perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.
it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.
as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.
breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"
his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.
“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”
gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.
"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.
the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.
“what?”
“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”
“oh.”
silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.
satoru can only watch, entranced.
“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.
satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.
but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.
his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.
you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.
"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.
“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.
you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”
“great, it’s a date!”
good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.
maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#this is me coping bc of the leaks
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Y/N was in her shared bedroom with Chris, lying on the bed above her favorite duvet while answering some emails from her work on her pink macbook. Her body was already showered and covered in her boyfriend's blue pajamas, comfortable enough to sleep as soon as possible.
At one point, her ears were filled with the sound of voices and loud laughter, which the girl was unable to recognize. Y/N lifted her head, frowning as she focused on the outside, trying to distinguish them.
When she was unsuccessful, she slowly got out of bed, leaving her macbook and phone on her pillow. Her hands turned the handle, pulling the door open and moving her body through the frame.
The girl climbed the stairs in slow, mute steps due to the socks that covered her feet, only tilting her head up when she reached the last one.
Y/N's eyes widened when she saw a group of nine people in her living room spread out across the sofa, puffs, and floor. The conversation flowed normally between them, some comfortably using their phones while nodding their heads to something others said.
Her eyes quickly met Larray's, who was facing the top of the stairs that led to her and Chris room. The boy's face automatically lit up when he realized it was her, a smile expanding across his cheeks.
An excited scream escaped his throat as he stood up from his seat in a puff, running towards Y/N.
That caught the attention of everyone, who raised their eyes and focused on Larray's figure and, consequently, on Y/N as well.
"Hey girl! I missed you so much today." Larray spoke excitedly, pulling the girl into his arms, hugging her tightly.
A laugh escaped Y/N's lips, who wrapped her own arms around Larray's waist, returning the gesture.
"Baby!" The sound of Chris's voice echoed through the four walls.
Y/N slowly moved away from Larray, dodging his body and walking towards her boyfriend, who was almost jumping in place in excitement at seeing her still awake.
A shy smile took over her features as she received so many looks at the same time, focusing her orbs on Chris.
Chris frowned when noticing her tired eyes and slumped shoulders.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl. Did we wake you? I didn't realize we were being so loud-"
"No, baby! No, I was answering some emails before going to sleep." The girl responded in a low tone, shaking her head and allowing Chris's arms to pull her into a tight hug, his lips sealing her forehead lightly, keeping his arms around her.
"Y/N, this is Tara, Jake, Johnnie, Sam, and Colby. Guys, this is Y/N, our confidant, best friend, and Chris's girlfriend." Nick quickly made introductions while still seating, momentarily pointing to each person as he said their names.
Y/N smiled, feeling her cheeks burn in shyness. She raised her right hand, waving briefly at the people there, a small "Hi" escaping her lips.
"Hi, girly! Oh my God, I saw you in several of the triplets' videos, and I was dying to meet you!" Tara quickly broke the ice, standing up from her seat and walking over to Y/N, bringing her in for a quick hug before pulling her to sit next to herself, ready to start gossiping.
The girl glanced at her boy, who was already looking at her with eyes full of love and joy at seeing his girlfriend socializing with his new friends, and people he knew would become important to him and his brothers.
It was just as important for him to have her approval than anyone else's.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Just a really little blurb, I stopped for lunch and could finally see the triplets' new posts with the others, and I needed to write something!!
I did it in 20 minutes, so I'm sorry if it sucks 😚😚🩷🩷
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#x reader#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo blurb#fluff#jake webber#johnnie guilbert#sam golbach#colby brock#tara yummy#larray
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.
so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.
he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"
he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"
"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.
by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.
steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.
eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.
"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.
it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.
until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.
"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.
keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."
#steve plays the song at their wedding AND sings the eddie rendition into his ear#eddie cries like a baby#stranger things#prompt#steve harrington#imagine#steddie#stranger things prompt#eddie munson#steddie prompt#steve and eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#steddie hc#steddie fluff
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒
Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader
Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.
Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.
Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.
Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.
He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.
The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.
His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.
The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.
The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.
Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.
Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.
Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.
He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.
The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.
Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.
Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.
His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.
The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.
"What the hell..."
The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.
"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.
"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"
The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.
The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.
A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.
“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.
Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.
Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.
“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”
"I-I'm sorry-"
“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.
"Clean up." Al ordered.
Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.
The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.
"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."
"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.
Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.
"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."
Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.
He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.
He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.
The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.
That was the case for several days.
The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.
"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”
The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.
You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.
"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."
You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.
"Hey!" He complained.
"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"
"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.
You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.
“It depends, are you done with those?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."
When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.
You never do anything right
Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.
After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.
His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.
His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.
“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."
You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.
He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.
What is wrong with you?
Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.
Useless, fucking useless.
"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.
He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.
Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.
"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."
Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.
You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.
"But-"
“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”
Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.
Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.
He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.
His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.
“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”
Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.
He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.
In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.
When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.
When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.
His dad was no longer part of his life.
You were. And you loved him.
Eddie didn't need anything else.
A "thank you" was whispered during the night.
Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea
#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie fanfiction#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst
975 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spider Boy, King of Thieves
(Miles Morales x F!Reader)
Your footsteps were leading you into Miles' room, hopefully asking for his help on your AP Physics homework, though you opened the door to... him on the ceiling?
CW: mild swearing, nothing much, fluff
"Oh. My. God."
There you stood, mouth agape, eyes as big and round as the moon, and papers that have momentarily fallen on the floor.
Miles Morales, on the ceiling. Your long time best friend or you could say, crush, in a black skin tight suit. He was flimsy, almost a panicked look on his face alongside awkwardness. An almost silent "Hey.." was all he could murmur out.
Rushing to his desk, a random pair of scissors scattered was now in your hand. A rigid body and shaking, your heart was almost about to pop out of your chest.
Raising his hands in the air, he dropped from the ceiling and swiftly landed on the thin wooden floor of the bordering school.
"[Y/N]! It's me! Dumbass!"
"No you're not!"
"Yes I am!"
"My Miles wouldn't be crawling on the ceiling.. who are you? Wait, no, no, what are you?"
He sighs, now quickly grabbing the scissors from your shaking hand, and slamming it down on his desk. "[Y/N] [L/N], is who you are, of course you are, I'm Miles, your best friend!"
A humourous silence was clouding the air, "Oh."
"Yeah, I was going to tell you sooner. I just- I don't know, got nervous." He admits, now discarding black hoodie he occasionally wears on his nightly patrols due to the cold wind enveloping his body.
"Wait, so, how did all this happen? You're telling me you've been the spider guy around Brooklyn? Just swinging around?"
He sighs and plops down onto his bed, you following and taking a small seat.
"Yeah, I'm that g-"
"What! Miles, do you even understand how dangerous that is?" You cut him off, a yell, close to a shriek, comes out of your mouth, once again in shock.
"No, no! I mean, yes, I do," he sat up quickly to face you "but I know what I'm doing." he finished.
Looking at him unassured, you sighed. "So how did you start sticking onto the walls?" A beckoning question asked.
"I got bit by a spider. Sooner or later, I met this girl, Gwen. My hand suddenly got stuck in her hair and," he trails off "I think you know the rest. Suddenly, everything I just came around to, just started sticking to me? Me sticking to them? But yeah, I inherited the powers of a spider from that bite." He explained, rambling about his amazing experiences as Spiderman as he swung throughout the city. Turning to face you, "Wha-"
There you were, completely awestruck, mouth wide agape and eyes replicating the size of a planet.
"No way, man."
He releases a giggle, as soft and light as a feather. Going back to his discarded suit, "Hey, what are y-" your sentence was quickly interrupted with Miles grabbing a hold of your hand, his large and calloused ones intertwining with yours.
"Miles?" you questioned, confused his antics as he was quickly putting on his Jordans.
And without a warning, Morales had his tough hands snaking around your torso, having a gentle yet assuring grip. His hand flying to yours, intertwining his big hands with your soft digits.
"Do you trust me?"
Holding his hand tight, "Fine, Miles."
In less than a second, the breeze was swiftly blowing through your hair, your body tingling at the cold sting of the air as your view was focused at the window Miles had just led you two out of.
"Ahh! Miles! What are you doing?!" A frantic shriek leaving your lips, holding on tight onto your beloved best friend.
A wholehearted laugh, "Well, showing my favourite girl my favourite activities as Spiderman." a smile evident in his tone.
"Your wh- Huh?!"
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he swung fast and steady. Looking at dozens of buildings to find a spot to land. (He may be sneaking glances at your oh so pretty face once and a while as he swung by structure to structure.)
The once ignited light of your panic was dying down, now having the courage to get a view of Brooklyn up above, the bright city lights and the loud bustling of vehicles despite the sharp night and it's cold air.
Miles settled down on a rooftop, a particularly high building to look over the wave of the other ones scattered on the ground, people of all diversity as tiny as ants in your view, the gush of wind softly fainting through your hair.
"Woah.."
His eyes were fixated on your awed face, the city lights illuminating your features.
"Yeah, woah."
He couldn't agree less, hell, he really couldn't.
"Miles, this is amazing." you smiled, a large grin displayed on your lips and eyes glistening due to the focus kept on the night of Brooklyn.
"Heh, I know right? Ever since I got the hang of this Spider stuff I've practically been all throughout this city, I know every crook and cranny of this place." he nodded, landing beside you, gazing at whatever it is you're looking at.
"So, you gotta tell me everything that happened since you became our city's great Spiderman." a teasing smile seen on your face, now turning to look at him.. already looking, no, admiring
you.
"Ah- uhm, I-, y-you know.. Spider, stuff." he practically heats up, his body language rigid and unstable, his breath was raggedy and his cheeks were as hot as a kettle.
"Cute." you mumbled.
"What?" as if he didn't hear it crystal clear, thanks to his heightened senses due to his bite.
"Nothing, nothing, go on." you ushered.
"Was it really nothing, [Y/N]?" he thought.
"Well, everything has changed ever since I became Spiderman. I had great difficulty at first, y'know? It was just.. overwhelming. Though it was hard, I got some blessings, makin' me like superhuman and stuff." he rambled, watching the strobes of the city lights that shined bright in the dark.
"Wow, Miles.." there was a comfortable thick line of silence, the sound of the lively city was evident and loud, the series of vehicles honking and racing down the road, the distinct chatter of people passing, and the cold air nipping at your bare arms.
"Does being a superhuman make you immune to the cold too?" you joke, rubbing your hands together quickly to produce a source of heat somehow, covering your biceps as a way to cover yourself from the unwavering cold.
Miles looked over to your freezing figure, and without even a second thought, he unzipped the jacket wrapping his body and covered yours, the clothing material seemingly turned oversized as you hugged it closer to your body.
The fire quickly spread to your cheeks, resisting a toothy smile to leak onto your face. "I guess so, my senses are heightened after all, [Y/N]." he lets out a cheeky grin, snaking his arms around your waist, his chin landing onto your shoulder, his broad chest felt on your back and his body heat radiating.
"Damn, Miles. Damn." you laugh, grabbing ahold of his hand and giving it a kiss, "You're so slick, Miles, Jesus." you laugh, feeling him dig his head into your neck.
"Well, it's my duty to protect people, right? Especially my favourite girl." he flirts, a warmth swimming around in your body as butterflies were a colony in your stomach.
"Listen, Miles.. you have to stop flirting with me if at the end of the day, I'm still going to be named your 'best friend' to you. Everything I feel is.. not just for a friend anymore."
He felt like there was an invisible clock ticking, the silence becoming unbearable and it was getting harder to breathe.
"Am I dreaming?" he thinks.
"The sun's about to rise, I don't think there would be another night to call you my best friend if you could be called mine by the morning."
Holy shit.
You turn to face him finally, "Miles.."
No other words were exchanged, only left with the loud wind chasing it's high, as if the rest of the world was stopping and the only people left were you.
His hand was cupping your cheek, the tension in the air could be sliced with a knife, the only thing evident in the surrounding was an awestruck you, and an awestruck Miles.
In less than a minute, his lips sparked against yours, the colony of butterflies in your stomach now soaring as his hand rested on your hip, pulling you closer to his body and kissing you deeper, a passionate and loving exchange.
For what it felt like a decade, you two finally catch your breath. "I was wishing to do that the moment you asked me for a pencil during class." he says, the memory burned into the back of his head.
"Hell, I only asked for that pencil 'cause you caught my eye."
He giggled, cupping your face and planting a soft, delicate kiss on your forehead and snuggling his head into the crook of your neck, giving small kisses and bites.
"Well it wouldn't hurt to swing by a burger shop right now as our first date, right?"
"It's funny how you're saying swing by like that's a normal thing, Miles."
a/n: NO WAY IM WRITING AGAIN???? WHAT A SHOCK ⁉️⁉️ 😱😱😱 NO BUT LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING PROPERLY AND ITS A NEW FANDOM AHHHH SPIDERVERSE ES SO GOOD, ive been drawing a lot more lately than writing and i was really busy with school!! :( all i could so was read and actually not write
#miles morales#miles morales x reader#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman x you#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#into the spider verse#i love him so much#spiderverse
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.
Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.
WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?
(And I love it <3)
A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.
(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)
Word Count: 2328
Jason wants to scream.
Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.
But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).
Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".
Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.
Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.
Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.
Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"
Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.
Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...
"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.
Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.
He can't just leave him there, can he?
Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)
Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.
Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.
They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”
“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.
Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.
Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.
“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.
Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide.
In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.
Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.
Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.
Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…
Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”
Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.
It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.
Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.
Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”
Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.
“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”
“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.
“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.
He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.
He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.
Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.
“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.
He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.
“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister.
That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”
Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”
Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.
Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.
“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.
Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”
The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.
Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.
“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.
“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”
Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”
“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”
“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.
“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands.
“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”
That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”
Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?
He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.
“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.
“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.
“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)
The man whines, and immediately obliges.
“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.
“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.
The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”
Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”
“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.
That, or he's delusional.
“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.
“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”
“Black's a very, very pretty color.”
Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”
“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.
“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”
“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.
Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”
Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”
Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”
“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave.
He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”
Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.
“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”
“Mhm. Kay.”
“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.
Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.
Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”
A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”
“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”
A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.
[BONUS!!!]
Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.
“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.
“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”
His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.
“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”
#Jason being a little shit who just wants to piss Dick off at first but really gets into the feels by the end#Also Jason didn't consider that to use the helmet's footage of tonight as blackmail he'll have to admit to the fam#that he bought a sky-high Bruce#(who he was supposed to be babysitting)#out into a gunfight#jason todd#bruce wayne#batman#batfamily#red hood#batfam#dick grayson#damian wayne
457 notes
·
View notes
Text
admissions
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: it's midnight and satoru's bored
warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety, and gojo <3
a/n: angst tomorrow?
last part | next part
*
second year, month five.
you're sitting on your bed, reading through an old textbook that nanami gave you (for some indiscernible reason) when there's a knock on your door.
pounding, actually. it shakes the walls and makes you jump.
there's a distant chuckle from the other side of the door.
no one really comes to check in on you, so this is unusual. even after living at jujutsu high for four months, you're finding it difficult to fit in.
maybe it's the fact that you were a month late to join your classmates, maybe it's because you find yourself pushing any available person away (because of fear, or insanity, or...), or maybe it's just that you can't relate to anyone for the life of you.
but, either way, the last person to knock on your door was yaga, who came to wake you up to go out on your second day here.
and, it's midnight, so unless someone's dying--
you sigh, shaking your hair out of your face. your eyes burn from staring at the small text for so long, so you rub them, hoping that you fell asleep and this is a dream.
it's not, apparently, because there's a second knock, much louder than the first. so you reluctantly get up and go to the door.
you try to tip-toe across the floors, hoping that the person hellbent on speaking to you can't hear you creeping up to the peephole.
"let me in," someone says because they have any right to demand anything of you.
you cross your arms like he can see you, and wait.
"y/n?" gojo whines, and there's a thud as he slumps against the door. you can almost hear him breathing. "please. it's important."
you wait another moment, for an explanation (which is unlikely) or for him to leave (which won't happen). you should've pretended to be asleep. then, after you realize he's going to wait, you sigh and unlock the door.
and when you open it, gojo falls right on top of you.
"ugh," you say, pushing him off, not caring about the two seconds it takes him to regain his balance. "you're heavy."
" i work out. i'm made of muscle."
you roll your eyes. "what do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. you make sure not to open the door all of the way. lord knows that gojo has a way of slipping through the cracks.
"no one else is around," he whines, "and i'm bored."
"okay? go step on some ants or burn down your room or something. i'm going to bed."
you should be nicer to your classmates--the people whom you literally entrust your life with--but you can't help your hard exterior. at least you know that no one will be able to break through it if you don't let them.
and plus, gojo kind of annoys you (and is maybe, a little bit, amusing).
gojo looks you up and down with a brow raised. how you're able to see him from behind his ridiculous sunglasses, who knows.
he's clearly questioning your outfit and the shoes you're still wearing inside your room. it was a mistake to stay in your uniform.
"you don't look very tired," he says, smiling at you. his face is unwrinkled and youthful. he looks like a boy and acts like a child.
"you're terrible at reading people."
"hey, no i'm not. i can tell you want to hang out with me."
"can you?"
"mm-hmm," he hums, grinning as he tries to lean forward, into your room.
"where's suguru?"
he gives you a skeptical look. "why do you wanna know?"
you snort. "cause usually you'd be bothering him."
"oh," he grins, undeterred by your insult, "he went to see his family."
you frown. "oh."
"and before you ask, shoko said that she's tired of me," he pouts a bit, but behind his notorious smile. gojo is an illusion of expressions. you've never seen anybody's face move so quickly, or shift so subtly. "now can i come in?"
you weigh the cost and benefits of allowing satoru gojo to intrude on your saturday night, and how likely you'll be subjected to him in the future. (is he going to damage you if you let him in? are you going to let him break you?).
but he's leaning down so you can see the tips of his lashes, and he's smiling like he already knows your answer.
so you sigh, hesitantly, and open the door a bit more. "don't touch any of my stuff."
"wow," gojo says as he walks in, by-stepping you and ignoring the glare you shoot his way. "you're a terrible decorator."
he's right. you haven't bothered to put anything up on the walls, even after almost half a year. a small part of you has been too worried that you won't be here for long. that you might die, or...
"sorry it's not up to your standards," you roll your eyes, going back to sit on your bed and leaf through the stupid textbook again. "but, you know, luckily, you have your own room. i can show you where it is, if you forgot. we can go there now."
"subtle," he says and messes with a couple of books on your shelf. you doubt he's going to pick one up and ruin it, so you ignore him.
you could complain about him touching your things like you just told him not to, but it's probably not going to get you very far. plus, you don't want to say something he can laugh at. or something to make him leave.
but after a moment, you can't help yourself.
"why are you up, anyway?" you ask him, trying to sound more annoyed than you are. "didn't you have to leave early for a mission this morning?"
"are you keeping tabs on me?"
"you were bragging about a 'solo' mission all through dinner last night. it was impossible not to overhear."
gojo sighs. "i don't get a lot of sleep. it's too lonely."
"i've heard some very interesting rumors about you and suguru's cuddling rituals."
he grins but doesn't say anything, teasing you with just his eyes.
after a second of it, you ask, "don't you have a family to go home to?"
he turns to you, tilting his head, long fingers tapping along your appliances. "clans are more like... begrudged allies than families. i haven't seen my parents in..." he whistles, shaking his head. but it doesn't seem to bother him, because he shrugs after, and resumes his snooping.
that... actually explains a lot.
at least he's like the rest of you.
gojo, abandoning your books--which he probably can't read--goes to sit down on your swivel chair, spinning around. "what about your family? don't you miss them?"
you give him a tired look. "seriously? you think i don't know that you guys talk about me when i'm not around?"
gojo bites his cheek, having the gull to not even blink, and then a reluctant smile makes its way to his lips. "who told you?"
"haibara can't keep a secret to save his life. don't gossip around him anymore."
he shakes his head, grinning at you again. gojo knows no shame. "well you started pretty late into the semester," he says, "that's not very typical."
you roll your eyes.
"so. not going home?"
"i'm not welcome in my parent's house, anymore," you say, trying to act like the words mean nothing. you could be discussing your favorite color. "as i'm sure you know."
"did they kick you out?"
"do you really want to talk about this? it'll probably bore you."
he shrugs. "nothing else to do."
you sigh, shutting your textbook.
maybe it's because gojo doesn't seem to actually care, or because you've been alone all day--with lots of time to spend spewing over choices that weren't yours. either way, the words make their way to your lips before you can stop them.
"both of my parents pretty much ignored me as soon as i turned ten and started having nightmares about the monsters i was seeing around our house," you shake your head, swallowing, "and after yaga scouted me this year, they decided i'd probably be better off with 'people like me.' so, no, i'm not going home. i'm sure they've already moved."
gojo stares at you like he's trying to discern if you're telling the truth or not.
you probably shouldn't have said anything. but it's not your fault that no one's had the guts to ask before him, or that you've been dying to talk about it.
you roll your eyes. "satisfied, gojo?"
"satoru," he says, grinning. "anyone who's got a clear attitude problem gets to call me by my first name."
"did your 'begrudged allies' forget to teach you manners?"
he hums. "i think i skipped those lessons."
you snort.
you could thank him for not pitying you--for not saying a single thing about how you didn't deserve it, or that it isn't fair--but you don't. it doesn't feel necessary.
"suguru's family is like that," he adds because this is a normal thing to discuss with an acquaintance you've hung out with once. "but he's too righteous to cut them off."
"yeah, i don't have that issue."
he laughs, spinning around again. then he stands up and plops down on your bed, unwarranted, taking off his glasses so he can lie on his side.
and then he sits there, staring at you.
it only takes thirty seconds for you to break.
"did someone surgically implant diamonds into your eyes?" you demand, kicking his foot away from yours. his body is warm against yours, and it makes you wonder if he's got a fever.
he would come and bother you just to get you sick.
"these are all-natural, sweetheart," he whispers, fluttering his lashes. he doesn't look away for a moment. his eyes are prettier up close, you suppose, when you can see them in their full glory. they look less alien, somehow less intense.
"what are the glasses for anyway?"
"try 'em on."
he hands them to you, grinning like he knows something you don't, and you take them--maybe just so you can smudge the lens.
they are surprisingly light, and warm. you put them over your eyes, blinking.
"oh, are you clinically blind?" you ask, feeling slightly bad for bringing it up. he's probably going to pull your hair and lock you in your room now.
satoru snorts. "no, i just don't need to see, unlike some people."
"...was that supposed to be a brag?"
you take off the glasses, wincing at the light. then you hand them back to him, tingling skin where your fingers brush his.
"it would drain my cursed energy if i didn't wear them," he says, "'cause i see a lot more than you do."
"okay? so it’s not to keep people from screaming when they see you?”
he pinches your thigh in retaliation, scoffing. “i am beautiful.”
he shakes his head, but leaves the glasses off, setting them on his stomach, and closing his eyes. one hand travels to the top of his head, as he relaxes into your bed.
you'll probably need to wash the sheets after this.
"hey," you say after he's been still for a minute. "satoru. you can't fall asleep here. i thought you wanted to be entertained."
"then entertain me."
you roll your eyes, even though he's not looking. "i'm not your servant. go back to your room if you're just going to bed. i'm not cuddling with you."
"i promise i'm good at it. ask suguru."
"he's not here, so i can't."
satoru sighs, opening his eyes again. "talk about something."
"like what?"
"uh... your favorite movie."
"i don't watch a lot of movies."
he sits up. "what?" he asks, genuinely shocked.
you roll your eyes at him again.
and, okay. despite his attitude, and his freaky eyes, you guess it is... nice, to be called upon.
and as satoru sits there, talking to you about the most ridiculous of things, you feel settled in. unafraid of saying something wrong or pushing him away.
it's good, you suppose, easy.
*
next part | series masterlist
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#gojo saturo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jujutsu sorcerer
531 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part two part three
SYNOPSIS:Ghost is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.
PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader
WORD COUNT:3.500k
WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.
NOTES:Ghost past is based on his comics, i'll prob make this one a mini serie (if you guys like), a lot different then what i usually write for, but i hope you guys enjoy without being what you guys are used on this blog, i'm planning to write both, angst and smut, even mix them sometimes. So, i hope you guys enjoy :(
(And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.)
It’s been a long while since you lived alone, and it’s been a very comfortable life since then. At first, it made you feel uneasy, after a long while, you were getting used to it, and having a place to call yours it’s everything you wanted before. Your apartment is cozy, organized with things you like, and you always try your best to keep it clean. The neighborhood is quite calm as well, you were living peacefully in this apartment complex.
That was until a new neighbor came in. He was a tall guy, he had a mysterious aura around him, it’s the quiet type and you don’t hear him speaking so often, actually, you never heard. To be honest, he doesn’t stay in his apartment too much, it’s the one above you, and hearing him it’s unusual. Maybe it is his work that keeps him so far for too long, you can’t say exactly what he works with, since you don’t know him properly. The only thing you know is that he keeps his face a mystery, always walking with a black balaclava that shows only his eyes, and this is a mystery you were dying to get to know. One day, while walking back to your humble home, you took the same elevator as the new neighbor, the silence that creeps out is weird, and you keep your eyes everywhere, but not on him. The silence was bizarre, and it seemed like it was going to take forever! When the elevator door opens in your floor, you can only rushes out of that tiny place with that man, that almost make you hyperventilate.
He looked calm during it, laying his back in the walls while his arms were crossed and he was looking distracted. With a quick but gentle movement, you just nod your head to him when leaves, he looks surprised by it, and nods back after some seconds staring at you. The metal door closes slowly, showing no more his figure.
But your encounters with him were always like this. Some head nods and sometimes a smile from your part, But the mystery this man is, no one knows him well enough for a talk, and this was making you insane, All days, you caught yourself thinking about him, how his voice sounded like, how his face is behind that mask, what he works with, what is his name, his age..things like that kept haunting your thoughts. Until one day, you decided to make a slight move, asking for some ingredient would be a great way to hear his voice, and maybe later baking him something to give it to him.
You sigh, you heard some footsteps, he must be home today. You knock on the door, gently with your hands shaking. It doesn’t take too much until your ears peak with the sound of him getting close to the door. His figure appears when he opens just half of the door.
—”May I help you?” —His voice is raspy, calm and relaxed at the same time. You notice how he has a strong British accent. From this distance, you can smell his scent, it’s strong and smells like whiskey and cigarettes, it’s oddly…comforting.
—”Sorry for bothering, I'm the neighbor below, I just want to know…if you have some sugar to give, by any chance.” —With a cute smile, you show him a little bowl in your hands that he can put the sugar in, the man narrows his eyes at you and nods.
—”Yes, I do. wait a minute.” — His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bowl in your hands and goes inside for a while. He leaves the door slightly open, and you just wait outside hearing his heavy footsteps around the house. When he’s back, your little bowl is filled with sugar, and he gives it back to you, his fingers brushing yours again.
—”Thanks, this will help a lot. I’m making cookies…would you like some?” — Your gentle voice was hard to ignore, he slowly nodded, and you can hear a little chuckle escaping his lips. It’s very good to hear, you felt your heart skipping a beat, he’s leaning against the door frame, looking at you.
—”Thanks for the sugar, I'm [name] by the way." —He keeps silent for a while, like he’s listening to your voice attentively.
—”It was nothing. I’m glad to help you, [name].”—You were expecting that he would say his name, but he just tries your name on his tongue. The tense ambient between you two is noticeable when the silence is back. You can only hum softly and look away.
—’What is…your name?”
—Simon. Call me Simon.”
—”Oh…okay Simon, thanks again and pleasure to meet you. Goodbye!”—Was a short talk, but it was enough to make your heart flutter with the warmth of his voice. You wave at him and he waves back, then all you can see is his back turning, his figure fading inside his house.
Quickly, you made your way back, still shivering a little, scared that he might think you’re weird. With a loud sigh, you close the door behind you, feeling safe inside your home. You know his name now…Simon. His voice is raspy and deep, and yet, makes you feel like you want to hear this voice every morning, the warmth of his body so close, his dark eyes staring at you making your legs weak. Everything about him didn't sound cold as they describe him.
He wasn’t that cold, deep and dark, no. He sounded so sweet and endearing to you, you just wish you could meet him better, talk to him more, listen to his voice, feel his presence towering at you, his expressions that you can only understand by his eyes, and you find this very beautiful, understand his feeling through his eyes, hear his warm chuckle filling the hall and not leaving your ears. It was memorable, even if it looked silly or too short. You felt really happy for doing that ‘move’.
Your kitchen is filled by a sweet smell, it’s the cookies you baked, with cute gloves around your hands, you take the plate with cookies and blow the steam off softly, Okay…you should give this to Simon now. You left a cute note too, that says ‘Enjoy the cookies, i hope its good :D’
After one hour of your visit, Simon doesn't stop thinking about his neighbor. You're sweet, you're the only one in this complex that had the courage to talk to him, the other ones just look at him from afar and give him some judgmental glances. But you...you came to talk, and was smiling too! That definitely means you're not afraid of him, that you're willing to talk to him even when he's using that balaclava all the time. His thoughts are interrupted by some knock on his door, and weirdly…he hopes it's you again. He walks to the door and opens, with some kind of rush, but he doesn't see your cute smiling figure, no…he looks everywhere and there's no sight of you, but looking down, he finds a little plate painted with flowers, there's some cookies on it and a note too. He bends his body down a little and smiles through the balaclava. Picking up the plate, he can sense the smell of the warm cookies, it's still a bit hot, the steam in the air, blowing a delightful scent. He enters his apartament again, closing the door with his feet as he looks at the cookies in his hands, they look delicious. Simon starts to read the post-it in the plate, it has a message for him
"Enjoy the cookies, i hope it's good :D"
-[Name]
That's cute, he thought. It takes a chuckle out of him. His stomach starts to snore in hunger, that smell filling his brain and all he can think about is…why is she being so nice? No one in this complex was ever this nice with him, somehow, they seem to be scared of him, disgusted, or even feel pity for him. But being kind? She's the first one and all he can think about is the reasons she's doing this. He's a stoic soldier, who works a lot, doesn't stay at home too much, smells of whiskey and cigarettes, he doesn't show his face, he's tall, looks scary…why is she not afraid of Simon? He sighs and shakes his head. Sitting on his couch with a loud sigh, he rests his head back while eating her cookies, it's indeed delicious as the smell, it's house made and tastes like love. He can't help but leave a joyful hum at the taste.
—"Why is this so good?" —He talks to himself, that seems a little crazy, but he's his only company for a long while, so he's used to this. She could have poisoned him with these cookies, but no, her intentions were good. He's a cautious man, always thinking of his work, and his work only. But now? He can only taste these good cookies and wish for more, he wishes he could taste a lot of things that she made, seeing her cooking would be adorable, and the taste and smell of it only fills his heart with love, the love he never experienced before. Simon caught himself thinking of being with her, on her apartment, seeing her cook while she mumbles a song to herself, moving her body along the kitchen so cutely, he can't help but think that he wants this for his life, this peaceful mind for once, being at easy, without all the fear his work provides. And for once, rest his mind.
But she's only a kind neighbor, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking of coming back after a long mission, and seeing her lips curling into a smile, feeling her little arms hugging him because she missed him too much, he doesn't have this. And he thinks he didn't even deserve this peace. All the people he killed with his hands, the blood he dropped, the fear in people's gaze when he's around, he's not the one who should be at a comfort in home, happy and living good, no. He thinks he doesn't deserve this at all. She's probably just being kind, why would she enjoy his company after all? He doesn't have anything good in him, he's only a stoic man, with scars, a bad past and a hard work to do that makes his hands dirty. He's sure a man like him doesn't have this.
As for you, you didn't want to bother him with your presence again, so you just left the cookies on his door, rushing back to the elevator when you knocked on the door. You wish you could see his reaction, but you don't want to disturb his peace once more, talking a lot while he just listens. You really wish he liked it. While you're on your couch, your legs are moving up and down quickly, in a nervous movement, you can't help but bite your nails, your other fingers fidgeting on your lap, as your mind is full of thoughts about his reaction. Will he like it? What if he finds you annoying? What if he finds you weird and doesn't want you around? Gosh, your mind is tricking yourself. You sigh loudly and decide to try some sleep, this will maybe put your mind at ease once, meeting new people wasn't that easy for you.
By the morning, you woke up, not from the sunlight on your body, flashing on your eyes, not from the discomfort in your back from your sleeping positions, not from your cat resting in your tummy, none of this. But, you woke up by the sound of a knock in your door, a single one, who could be this early? You get up, leaving your little cat resting now in the bed, the sunlight keeping her warm. Your vision is still a little blurry, you rub your eyes with your fingers and walk to the door, opening without thinking too much about it, and the sight of who’s here messes your mind, making your vision immediately fix alone and your mind races, the sleep left your body.
—”Sorry for appearing so early. I am…going to work. And just wanted to say thanks for the cookies last night, they were delicious.” —Simon spoke softly, he seems not sleepy at all now, but his baggy eyes show that maybe he didn’t sleep, that’s why he’s so energetic now. You blush softly, his voice is even more deep in the morning, that British accent never leaving his tongue as he speaks.
—”Oh, that’s okay, I'm glad you liked it, Simon.” —Your voice sounded dragged by the remaining sleep, but you managed to give him a little smile. You want to know what he works with to leave this early.
—”I can see you were sleeping, sorry.” —Simon looks away, scratching the back of his neck even with the balaclava, scratching the silk of it. You look at your body and notice you're with your pajamas, it’s an old one, that is now short for you, and you can’t help but blush for Simon seeing you like this.
—”Don’t worry about it. Would you…like some coffee?” —You try to change the subject, hoping he won’t talk about your pajamas. A silence stays for a long while, Simon looks into your eyes, he’s surprised about your offer and it's visible. He can only nod and mumbles under his breath. He knows that he shouldn't be accepting this, he doesn’t deserve to have a calm breakfast, with someone who doesn't look at him disgusted by his acts, someone that is too innocent, that doesn't know what those hands did, what his ears listened to, what his eyes saw. For a brief second, he had a flashback of his past, everything he did. You're kind because you don’t know this man, don’t know the danger he could be to someone so innocent like you, who could literally break you with those blood painted hands.
You invite him inside, he’s now on your table, tapping his fingers on your table, as your figure is with you back turned to him, making coffee. This house is so cozy, warm and…a bit feminine, he could say. Simon looks in every detail, noticing how there's a lot of photos of you with what seems to be your family. You have someone that cares about you, everything he had vanished like dust, you’re so lucky for having a family. He wonders, if your family would take care of him too, if they would accept him like a son, and yet…he doesn’t have nothing with you, just some small talk. Maybe he is only overthinking. Your voice snaps him out of a trance, while he looks at your photos around the house.
—”How do you like your coffee? With sugar?”—He drives his attention to you again, who’s looking at him from your shoulder. He likes sugar, it’s something that can distract him from his bitter life.
—”With sugar, please.” —And after a while, in a good and comforting silence, you pour the coffee in two cups, putting one in front of the man on her table. He looks so much bigger than her chair, it’s a little funny, in a good way. The steam flows from their cups as Simon looks down to it, his face is hard to read, after all, only his eyes appear. Then, you caught yourself wondering, how he would drink the coffee with that balaclava.
—”I won’t look, i promise.”—You looks away, while blowing the steam and taking a sip of your coffee to disguise your nervous manner, bad idea, it was hot as hell, it burn your tongue, and you hiss in pain, dropping the cup back into the table quickly, happily, it didn’t break, You make a pout with your lips, your tongue hurts a lot now.
—”Oh, are you…okay?” —Simon left everything he was thinking behind and walked in front of you. He kneels down to level his height, since you’re sitting in the chair. His figure bends down to yours, his hands are shaking when he touches your arm slightly, like he’s afraid to make you uncomfortable.
—”Is’h okay…”—Your voice sounds weird, since your tongue hurts, you can’t speak properly. Simon takes a cup from your sink and pour the sink water on it, it’s not cold, neither hot. He kneels back, looking up to your eyes and giving you the cup with water.
—”Here, warm water will help.” —You do as he advises and drink the water without hesitation. The burden sensation easen a little, he seems to know what to do in this kind of situation.
—”How did you knew…thanks.”—Deciding to interrupt your question, you just say thanks to him. He looks right into your eyes, his expression seems softer a little, seeing you’re a little better.
—”My job…makes me learn how to prepare yourself for all kinds of situations.” —He talks a little about his job, not revealing what exactly it is. You look down at him, keeling down on his knees while looking worried about you, his hands still shaking, wandering on his knees, not touching you to make you uncomfortable. After all he passed through, he wouldn’t want someone like you to feel the same.
—”Thanks, it helped somehow. You’re really prepared for this.”
—”It’s my job to protect people. We have our ways to do so.” —Simon gets up from the ground and walks back to his chair, in front of you, slightly he lifts up his balaclava, revealing only his mouth and drinks a sip. The coffee it's not as hot as it was before. In a sign of respect, you look away, not wanting to invade his privacy, and he appreciates this a lot. After the burden sensation ends, you drink your now cold coffee, both in silence as you look away all the time, even with the curiosity to see his lips, you won’t do it. And by his words, you can guess what he works with…maybe he’s a doctor, a firefighter…a military?
—”The coffee is delicious, thanks for this.”—He feels himself going back to when his mom was alive, she was the only one who would really care about him, making him coffee…and this moment reminds him about her. It still hurts. A lot. He sighs softly, and you can say he’s thinking about something, but you won’t ask.
—”You often stay a lot of days out for work, no? Seems like a hard job.”
—”A very hard one, everything I do, changes a life. Big choices, big responsibilities…”
—”I understand…at least, I hope you can rest when you’re at home.”
—”It depends. I don’t really have any time to rest.” —You can hear Simon sigh, he’s really tired of this job. You still look away, not seeing his lips exposed a little. This moment, it’s the first one he could rest, even for a bit, not rest his body, but rest his mind.
—”And…will you stay out for days this time?”
—”Who knows.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. What a bad life he has, staying out for days, and when he’s back, he can’t even rest his mind. This moment, he wishes he could live like this forever, hearing your soft voice as you look around to respect his privacy, he didn’t even need to ask for, you knew somehow. Your cozy and warm apartment, it’s a lot different from his, his is almost empty, boring, sad. But yours? Had memories, life, and happiness. He wishes he could stay there forever. And he knows his duty, saving the world, saving citizens, or he could say…killing lives on exchange to save others. Making his hands dirty, so no one would need to do, only to see people like you, who has a family, a happy life, a rested mind, that’s why he does his job, so people like you can live without worries. In exchange, he sees things horrific, he hears screams in his ears that live on his mind, his body ends up tired and sore from all of this, just to see your smile on your face. He had a terrible childhood, he fought for his life, lost everything that was dear to him, in order to keep the peace in the world. In order to meet you, to see your brilliant smile. At least, he likes to think that way, this makes his life less insignificant, it’s like he’s a hero, when he knows he’s not. It’s just better to see this way, and hope it’s the truth, hope it’s not his imagination, trying to make him less guilty for everything he did all his life.
#fanfic#fictionalslvr#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#call of duty#fluffy#light angst#angst
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
{ the song (I Just) Died In Your Arms came on at work today and then this happened. }
Warnings: aftermath of time loops, like years after, hurt/comfort, angst, allusion to sex and loss of virginity (its really more of a fade to black situation tho 👍🏻)
🍒🍒🍒
"Eddie?" Steve calls, dropping his bag and all his crap by the door, and toeing off his shoes.
"Kitchen! Rob's at Chrissy's tonight so I thought we'd do dinner and a movie?" Eddie's voice calls, and Steve can already smell something cooking. Hears the sizzle of a something as well, and the radio playing something, the sound just a low rumble in his ears.
"Sounds good. Watcha makin?" Steve calls, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch, he knows Eddie will grab it later and hang it by the door. He leaves it there anyway, smiling to himself at the thought as turns toward the kitchen.
"Oh just the ol Eddie Munson special. Gourmet grilled cheese. It soothes the- Steve? You okay?" Eddie's voice is quiet now, Steve's sure his eyes are wide too but he can't see them. Not really.
He's staring at the radio. The low murmur of music finally hitting him, stopping him in his tracks, his blood running cold, like icy fingers trailing down his back. That fucking song. He could kill whoever wrote it. Who needs a song about someone dying in their arms?
"Steve?" Eddie asks, again. Steve nods. Takes one step backwards. And then bolts for the bathroom.
He hits his knees hard, slaming down in front of the toilet, losing the small amount of food he'd had for lunch, his stomach heaving. He's shaking when he stands, his knees buckle twice on the short walk from the bathroom across the hall to his room. He shuts the door softly when he hears Eddie's footsteps coming.
"Steve? Are you okay?" His voice is small, and Steve can see him, with his long sleeves pulled down around his hands, worrying the material between his fingers as he shuffles from foot to foot outside Steve's door.
"I'm fine Ed's. Just, keep cooking. I'll be out in a few for the movie okay?" Steve calls, yanking his clothes off and grabbing one of Eddie's old t-shirts that he'd stolen maybe a year ago. Eddie had never asked for it back. And Steve liked the way he blushed when he saw Steve wearing it.
Eddie does, sort of. He goes back to the kitchen, turns everything off, and then walks back to Steve's room. He slides down the wall outside his door and sits on the floor. He can hear Steve moving around in there, just shuffling around his room doing god knows what.
He does this sometimes. Eddie never knows what to do. Or say. Or how to stop it. He tries. But Steve won't talk to him about it. Just ignores that it happens. Or talks to Robin. They share little looks, he sees them, never knows what they mean.
It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, like they're telling jokes behind his back. He knows they're not. That they wouldn't. But there's something. And until now, he's never asked, never pushed. Just sat back and worried and tried to ignore the feeling that he'd done something wrong.
"Steve?" He asks, voice low. He hears Steve stop moving.
"Yeah?" He calls, sounding suspicious, or nervous maybe, or like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.
"You know I'm not stupid right?" Eddie's chest burns, fire crawling up his throat, his eyes burning.
"I- what?" Steve answers, voice muffled, Eddie can almost see him standing in the middle of his room, staring at the door.
"I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong." He presses his finger to the floor, rubs at a knot in the wood, listens to Steve walk closer to the door.
"I told you I'm fine. Really it's-"
"Don't lie to me." Eddie cuts him off, doesn't yell, doesn't even raise his voice. He thinks he hears Steve gasp on the other side of the door. Can't be sure.
"Please just-" he closes his eyes, clears his throat, wills the tears away. He's so tired of crying about this.
"Just talk to me? I know- there's something you're not telling me." He hangs his head, worries at his shirt sleeves, his hands in his lap.
"It's been three years. And I thought it would stop ya know? Thought maybe I was imagining things. Or just, had to get used to the enigma that is YouAndRobin. But that's not it, is it?" He lets his head fall back and hit the wall.
"It's me. It's something I'm doing. Or like, multiple things? And I've tried to stop. Ya know? Tried to figure it out on my own cuz you guys clearly don't wanna share." He sighs.
"But I just keep fucking up. And then you guys give each other those looks, and lock yourselves away for hours, or fucking days, at a time. And I try so fucking hard not to do those things again." His voice is strained now, he clears his throat again, tucks his knees up under his chin and keeps talking, knows if he doesn't say it now he never will.
"But it's fucking impossible to figure out what I'm doing wrong if you won't talk to me Steve. I just- I feel like I'm hurting you somehow and you just- you just fucking sit there and take it and pretend it not happening when it really fucking clearly is! And it makes me feel insane!" He shoves his lips against his knee, tries to hide the whimper that claws its way out of his throat. He closes his eyes, tries to breathe, opens his mouth to speak again and hears the door open.
He looks up, watches Steve look forward and then down, finding Eddie on the floor, his own eyes shining like Eddie knows his are too.
"It's not you." Steve says, whispers really. And Eddie can't help the eyeroll. Or the huff. Looks away from Steve, drops his chin onto his knees and closes his eyes again, pushes the palms of his hands against his eyes.
"You're lying." He croaks, voice tight.
"I know you are. I just don't know why." And he hates it, that whine in his voice. And then Steve is on his knees, next to Eddie, his hands hovering near him as Eddie glares at him.
"I- I'm not. I promise I'm not. It's not you. It- it's complicated. I don't-" he sighs.
"Just say it! Just try!" Eddie's hands flail, his voice desperate as he looks at Steve. He stares for a moment, eyes wide, and then falls to sitting next to Eddie, his own knee tucked up to his chest, back resting against the door frame.
"I watched you die." Steve says, quiet. Eddie frowns.
"I know. And then you carried me out of hell and saved me. I know that. What are you-"
"No. Not- not that time." Steve shakes his head, grimaces when he looks at Eddie. He shakes his head, he doesn't understand.
"Before that. So many fucking times before that. Over and over. You died. No matter what I did. Or what I changed." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, shoved a knuckle into the corner of his eye. He let his head fall back as he looked at Eddie, his hands falling palms up on his thighs, helpless.
"You died. Over and over and over. And everytime. Every single fucking time. I ended up covered in your blood." He closes his eyes, opens them again. Says nothing else.
"I-" Eddie starts, stops, takes a deep breathe, moves one hand over his chest, resting his palm against the scar on his side, a nervous habit he has now. His fingers drum against the thick skin there.
"That's- you're talking about a time loop." Eddie says slowly, and Steve, he fucking laughs. There's no humor in it, just a bark, and a wry smile as he shakes his head at Eddie.
"What? You are, right? I mean that's- why are you smiling?" Eddie flails again, hugs his knees tighter. Steve just shakes his head again, bites his lip to hide a smile.
"Robin told me I should tell you. That you'd understand. Or like, get it. And I knew you would I guess, I just- couldn't." Steve sighs again, gives a little helpless shrug.
"Why not?" Eddie rests his chin on his knees, watching Steve. The tension he'd been holding in his shoulders for what seems like years seems to melt away.
"At first I was scared. That if I said something. It would start again. And then it just-" he takes a deep breath, smiles the saddest smile Eddie's ever seen and says,
"It just hurt too much." He shrugs again, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie stares, watches his fall onto his shirt, watches it bleed into the fabric.
"Why did it hurt? Cuz of me? Cuz I keep reminding you of it somehow? Right? That's what all those little looks between you guys have been?" He wraps his arms around his legs tighter, his lip wobbling again. He knew he'd been fucking up.
Steve looks at him, brow furrowed, and reaches out, his hand warm when it curls around Eddie's bicep.
"I didn't know you noticed that. And I'm sorry. But no. It wasn't that. I mean maybe a little. Just small things. Like, deja vu, sometimes." He shrugged.
"But tonight it was the song. That stupid fucking song." He sighs, shakes his head and laughs again. The sound hollow in his chest.
"The... song." Eddie frowns, trying to think what song had been on when Steve came through the door. And oh, yeah.
"Oh. Kinda... right on the nose that one. Sorry. It was just on the tape I found. It wasn't even my tape. I think it was one of Dustin’s old ones." Steve squeezes his arm, heads him off before be starts really rambling.
"It's okay. You didn't know. You couldn't have. Cuz I didn't tell you. And I should have. I'm sorry." Steve bites his lip again. Eddie nods, sniffles, untangles his arms from around himself and scoots a little closer to Steve, their legs pressed together.
"Will you tell me now? All of it? Please? I need to know what happened. Kinda really wanna know how you saved me." He feels his cheeks burn, his ears too. He can't look at Steve. Not right now. Knows he'll see too much.
"I'll tell you. But not on the floor." He laughs again, a real one this time, and gets to his feet. He offers his hand to Eddie and pulls him to his feet. Their hands stay together, Eddie's cheeks burn with a fresh wave of color and Steve smiles, tugs him into his room, and tells him everything.
~°~
"A whole year?" Eddie's staring at the ceiling, knows he sounds breathless.
"Yep." Steve says, pops the P.
"And you spent it with me?" Eddie asks, sounds unconvinced.
"Yep."
"And we-"
"Yep." Steve huffs, turns onto his side and looks at Eddie.
"Hey. Look at me." Eddie swallows, isn't sure he can. He let's out a shakey breath and does it anyway.
"Hi." Steve says, smiling, his cheek squished against his arm curled under his head.
"Hi." Eddie echoes.
"You and me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed, his throat burning again.
"Yeah. I uh... I wasn't expecting it. Or maybe I was. I'm not sure anymore. But I'm glad it happened." Steve shrugs, reaches out, his finger brushing a curl away from Eddie's face.
"Why didn't you tell me? We could've- I mean I would've-" Eddie swallows, not sure what he would've. Steve smiles that sad smile again.
"Because I'm an idiot. I thought I had to like- let you make your own choices. Not- tell you what you did before. And you didn't remember. Because it- it didn't work, that time. I didn't-" he pauses, clears his throat, wipes at his eyes.
"I didn't save you that time. I lost you. And it- fuck it hurt Ed's. It hurt so much." His throat catches on a sob, his palms shoving into his eyes and Eddie can't take it anymore. He surges forward, wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close.
"I'm right here. I've been here. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie whispers, presses the words into Steve's hair as he clings to him.
"How many times after that one?" Eddie asks, his hand in Steve's hair, soothing.
"Two. I lost you two more times and then it worked. I woke up by your hospital bed instead of at my house. And you were there. Alive. And Robin was alive. And Dustin and Nancy. Everyone. More or less." Steve's voice is muffled, Eddie can feel his shirt getting wet from his tears.
"Steve I-" he takes a shakey breath.
"I don't know what to say." He sighs, keeps soothing his fingers over Steve's scalp. He pulls back, looks at Eddie, his face wet and blotchy.
"You don't have to say anything. I'm just glad you know now." He shakes his head, sniffles, drops his head back onto his pillow, eyes on Eddie.
"This um... this other Eddie. The one you spent a year with." Eddie draws.
"He wasn't 'another Eddie'. He was you. Just, before we really met." Steve snorts, rolls his eyes.
"Right. Right. So this Eddie you spent a year with." Eddie says, Steve fucking giggles and squeezes his eyes shut, nose all scrunched up. He opens his eyes, blinks a few times.
"What about him?" Steve asks, his teeth dragging over his lip as he smiles. Eddie shrugs, best he can laying on his side.
"Was he... I mean was he really like me?" Eddie asks, his voice sounding, doubtful. Steve hums, thinks for a moment.
"He was. And he wasn't." Steve shrugs too.
"That's very descriptive." Eddie says, voice flat. Steve laughs, rolls onto his back and then back to his side to look at Eddie.
"He was... different. Calmer. Less traumatized. At the beginning anyway. But he was still you. Still stubborn. And loyal. And kind." His shoulder twitches again.
"Was he nice to you? This other me?" Eddie asks, chewing on his lip, eyes locked on Steve's face. His cheeks flush and Eddie feels heat crawl over his skin.
"He was yeah. After awhile. He was... very nice." Steve's voice is soft, low, that little smile tugging at his mouth.
"Did he love you?" Eddie doesn't mean to say it. Not really. But he can't stop it. He has to know. Steve said they'd been together. But it was just a year. But a lot can happen in a year, Eddie knows all too well.
Steve eyes go soft at the question, a fondness in them that Eddie knows well, his stomach flutters at the realization.
"He said he did." Steve nods, scoots a little closer.
"And did-" Eddie swallows roughly, blinks a few times,
"Did you love him?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Steve nods, slow, his hair splaying against his pillow, his hand lifting to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumb nail.
Eddie feels a breif spike of jealousy peak its head up and then feels ridiculous. And then he feels something else, something that blooms in his chest and wraps itself around his ribs warmly. Something he thinks might be hope.
"Do you-" he bites into his lip, hard. His hands shaking on the matress between he and Steve. Steve's hand moves away from his mouth, his knuckles brushing Eddie's before lacing their fingers together.
"Say it." Steve whispers, his eyes shining. He smiles at Eddie and Eddie can't not smile back. Can't not ask.
"Do you love me?" He hears his voice, hears how he clearly doesn't believe that. But Steve nods, a giddy smile on his face.
"You do? Why?" Eddie blurts, and Steve laughs, curls closer to Eddie, his hand cupping Eddie's cheek, thumb moving over his skin softly.
"I'm not sure I ever had a choice." Steve breathe between them.
"I think it was just always meant to be you." Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's lips, then up over his cheek again, wiping at the tear that runs over Eddie's skin.
"But he's not- I mean I'm not- we're not the same person. I don't remember it. I don't remember getting to have you. I did get to have you right?" Eddie asks, his chest shuddering as he tries to keep his breathing steady. Steve nods, crowds impossibly closer, his knee slotting between Eddie's own.
"You had me. You had me then and you have me now. And you are the same person. That's why me and Robin always give each other those looks. Because I told her everything. Anything I could remember. And you do things. Things that you did then. When you were mine." Steve smiles. Eddie laughs out a sob.
"When I was yours." He says, mocking, his voice wet and wobbly.
"Yeah. You were mine. Do you wanna be mine?" Steve's fingertips move over his face, like he's trying to memorize him.
"Pretty sure I've been yours since I woke up to you reading The Hobbit by my bed in the hospital." Eddie smiles, more tears falling.
"Dustin told me it would help." Steve shrugged again his thumb back on Eddie's lips. He nodded, closing his eyes to warmth of Steve's skin on his.
"I wanna be yours." Eddie breathed, gasped when he felt Steve's thumb press into his lip.
"Yeah?" Steve was so close now, Eddie opened his eyes and he was right there, his nose almost touching Eddie.
"Please." Eddie wasn't sure what he was begging for, but he trusted Steve to give it to him.
"Yeah. Anything you want." Steve sighed, closing the space between them.
His lips hit Eddie's and his whole world tilts. Steve holds his head and kisses him sweetly and everything slams into him at once. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories. Memories that aren't his. Things he's never done. Not with Steve. Not with anyone.
But they crash into him, wash over him like a wave and blend into him like they're his. Things he said to Steve, the way he touched him, the way he loved him, during that year that never was. All of it filling him and becoming his. His and Steve's. Just another piece of their story, another peice of their love.
Eddie gasps, pulls back and finds Steve's eyes on him, wide, his brow furrowed.
"Did you?" Steve asks, his head tilting.
"I remember. Or... I saw it. I felt it. Or like, an echo of it. I love you." He laughs then, breathy and sweet, and Steve laughs back, nearly tackles him back onto the bed, arms curled around Eddie, face buried in his neck.
"I love you too." He sounds giddy. The way Eddie feels. He buries his hands in Steve's hair and pulls him up, so he can look at him. Steve comes willingly, looking down at Eddie with adoration.
"Our lives are so fuckin weird. You know that right?" Eddie asks, his nose scrunching. Steve snorts, bites his lip, and smiles.
"Oh yeah. But would you want it any other way?" Steve asks, his nose scrunching too.
"I'll take it whatever way lets me have you." Eddie says, his finger moving down the line of Steve's nose. He bites at Eddie's finger when he drops his hand on his chest.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to ask. And that you were stuck for so long. Back then." Eddie nods to the side, like that time in '86 is right beside them.
"I'm not. I learned a lot about loving you back then." Steve smiles down at him, pushes his bangs back off his head, Eddie leans into the touch.
"Oh yeah? Well I look forward to reaping the benefits." Eddie says, tongue poking into his cheek.
"Yeah? Well I look forward to taking your virginity. Again." Steve smirks down at him. Eddie squaks, tries to shove Steve off him and gets pinned to the bed instead.
"How dare you! I'm not even- that's- I mean... absolute hearsay!" Eddie stammers. Steve laces their fingers together and straddles him, leaning down over him, that smug look on his face.
"You trying to say you're not?" Steve asks, his tongue moving over his teeth.
"I- it's just- I mean that's not fair." Eddie squeaks, looking up at Steve with wide eyes.
"Seems fair to me. Like a really nice reward." Steve boasts, leaning closer and closer.
"It feels like cheating. Like not that kind of cheating. Just... I've never- done stuff. And you're just... you have. With me. That's not-"
"Hey. I'll take good care of you." Steve breathes, presses his lips to Eddie's genlty and pulls back, settles himself on Eddie's thighs.
"I know. I have the memory. But it's like... I dunno, like it's foggy. Like a dream. I can see it, in my head, but I can't feel it." Eddie sighs, looks away.
"Forget about it." Steve says.
"Oh okay. I'll just forget about the images I now have burned into my brain of you, naked, on top of me." Eddie scoffs, tries to take his hands from Steve's and fails, Steve squeezes his hands tighter.
"Why are you so strong?" Eddie kicks his feet, feigning attempts to break free. Steve laughs, lowers himself back into Eddie's face.
"You can hold tight to that new old memory. Or we can make some memories of our own. Pick one." Steve brushes his nose against Eddie's and smiles when Eddie bucks up into him.
"New memories. Absolutely. We should do that. Let's make new ones. We should do that right now." Eddie nods frantically, lifting up and trying to kiss Steve, both of them ending up sitting, Steve in Eddie's lap, finally letting his hands go to snake his arms around Eddie's neck.
"New memories. Got it." Steve kisses him, sweetly, pulls back, just a fraction of an inch.
"You've got shit memory anyway baby. I'll get rid of those in no time." He breathes the words into Eddie mouth like a promise. Eddie moans and grabs at his back, pulling him closer.
"Holy shit. Okay." He huffs, shivering as Steve presses him down onto the bed again, laughing against his lips.
"I'm gonna take this slow. Be real sweet to you." He peppers kisses across Eddie face.
"You're gonna fuckin torture me you mean?" Eddie whines, his hips jumping and stuttering everytime Steve rolls his down against him.
"Trust me. You'll love it." Steve whispers, his lips ghosting over Eddie's, teasing.
"I love you." Eddie says, both of them freezing. Steve just stays there, looking down at him, his eyes shimmering again. Eddie reaches up, wipes the tears away.
"I love you too." Steve breathes, his body dropping onto Eddie completely, tension leaving as he kisses Eddie, slow and deep, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.
Steve's true to his word. He takes Eddie apart slowly. And then puts him right back together. Three years of longing, and lost time, and impossible memories passing between them. A slow ebb and flow, like the tide, like the ocean and the moon, moving through them both, pulling them together after so long apart.
Steve falls asleep on his chest after, small sounds falling past his lips as he nuzzles into Eddie's skin. Eddie holds him there, one hand in Steve's hair, one moving slowly up and down his back.
He holds Steve close, watches him sleep, and thanks whoevers listening that he gets to have this. Have him. And thanks them again for bringing him through it all, all the monsters, and the time loops, and everything else. Just for him to end up in Eddie's arms.
Eddie's certain it's where he was meant to be all along.
#steddie#steddie time loop#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#fates endless inkwell#fei#my writing#mine#my fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie
503 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't leave me
Comforting Farleigh after Felix's death
Farleigh Start x female reader
a/n: I really wanted to write this because I feel like Farleigh needed someone to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be alright after he got yelled at and he definitely deserved better, poor baby, (also that's what I think the scene is about, if I got it wrong, sorry)
warning: Felix dying, swearing, everybody treating Farleigh like shit, drugs, Farleigh crying a lot
word count: 3,299
You have known Farleigh for as long as you can remember. He's always been there for you. Your rock, your shoulder to cry on, someone who knew all of your secrets and all your problems, always ready to help you. Even if it was 4 pm or 4 am, you called and he was there.
And you were always there for him. Even though most of the times you two were on different continents and hours and miles away from each other, you never let something like that ruin what you two had. Then things started getting a lot easier because Farleigh came to live in England and since then you were inseperable. Yes, you did spend quite some time at Saltburn even when Farleigh wasn't here because you were really good friends with Felix and then later met Venetia, who you've clicked with just like that. Yes, sometimes they had their own opinion on Farleigh and sometimes you hated the way they talked about him but he somehow learned how to shake that off and not take it too seriously, so you did exactly that even though deep down it hurt to listen.
When you joined Oxford university, you and Farleigh became even closer and you eventually fell in love with him. You kept it a secret for quite some time because you were afraid to talk about your feelings because you didn't want to lose him. He was your home and you weren't planning on losing that, but luckily he felt the same and that was it. He was everything you always wanted and you swore you would never let him go or do anything that would harm him or let him battle his problems alone. No fucking way.
Everything was going great. You finished another year at Oxford, celebration obviously planned there and then later at Saltburn. Summer was about to begin and you had a feeling this summer was going to be one to remember. And oh boy it was.. but for very different reasons.
"Hey baby." Farleigh walked into your dorm, closing the door behind him, his arms immedistely wrapping around your body, hugging you from behind. "Did you finish packing?" He aks gently as he looked around the room, your clothes still splatered across the floor and your bed, messier than the first night you came here.
"Shut up." You playfully hit his arm as you heard him chuckle in your ear, his lips connecting with the top of your head in a gentle kiss. "I still have so much to do, I'll never make it in time."
"Yes you will, I'll wait for you, you know I'm not leaving." He spun you around, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer and hugged you tightly, one of those as you called them grizly bear hugs.
"Then help me pack?" You batted your eyelashes at him and made a pouty face, hoping it would work.
"Oh no, that's not fair, don't do that, you know I can't resis that face" He said and kissed your lips swiftly, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Of course I'll help."
"Is anybody else coming with us?" You asked while folding your t-shirts, placing them neatly inside your suitcase.
"Oliver fucking Quick." Farleigh trailed off.
"What?" You quickly turned around to look at him, unsure if you heard that correctly. You obviously didn't like him, I mean Fekix though he was a very inspiring person but you and Farleigh? You didn't get the hype and always held him on his toes.
"Yeah, Felix invited him. I don't know why, something about him not wanting to go home because of his parents."
"Do Elspeth and James know that?" You asked, crossing your arms.
"Yes, apparently Elspeth is extremely excited to meet him. That'll be interesting." Farleigh closed one of your bags and placed it on his shoulder. "Damn, what do you have in here, rocks?"
"Very funny, no, all the vibrators you gave me." You said, laughing, seriousness washed over his face.
"Oh really?" He dropped the bag on the floor and grabbed your waist, hoisting your body up on his shoulder, his large hand smacking you on the ass. Your laugh echoed throughout the room, probably audible outside too, but that's how Farleigh always wanted you to be. Such beautiful laughter, it was like music to his ears, like daisies adorning a beautiful meadow. He gently put you down on the bed and laid on top of you, his thumb caressing your soft cheek.
"I love you." He whispered, a special kind of sparkle in his eyes, a smile plastered on his face.
"I love you too, Farleigh." His hot breath washed over your face, his lips slightly brushed yours before he kissed you gently, a moment of bliss before the big storm.
~ ° * ° ~
Summer at Saltburn? Always crazy and busy, but the busy part? Partying and laying out on the freshly cut grass or swimming in the pool. That was all you did there every summer. Not a bad life, you always thought to yourself, but sometimes it was nice to go back to reality and to a real life.You'd be lying if you said you didn't get used to this kind of life, the glamour, the dinner parties, dressing up,it was quite fun to a certain point. When it was too much, you and Farleigh packed your bags and left for a week or two, all alone, away from all of it. But to someone, this life was inviting them in more and more as each day passed.
And then the Cattons decided to throw Oliver a birthday party. 200 people? 300? You lost count. I mean if it's a party then it's a great idea, but for the entire night Farleigh had a very strange feeling about everything that night. He watched Oliver just skulk around almost every room in the house, people not paying too much attention to him. Most of them only knew him as "the birthday boy" but only a few of them knew his actual name. There was something strange about him, Farleigh always kept an eye on him.
...and he was right...
Around 11 am you felt someone shaking your body, trying to wake you up. You opened your eyes and saw Farleigh standing in front of you and you immediately knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking, his mannerisms completely different than how he usually is.
"What is it?" You asked and instantly sat up on the bed, fear in your eyes and in your voice, your heart suddenly picking up its pace, a sudden wave of ringing filling up your ears.
"Felix is missing." Farleigh trailed off.
"What?" You quickly got up and didn't even bother to put on shoes. You ran outisde and saw Venetia in the water, walking around, waving her hands underwater. You ran towards her with Farleigh, both of you joining her, hoping he's not in here and that he's fine. Then you heard a gut wrenching scream coming from the maze. You looked at Farleigh and instantly felt tears well up in your eyes. You shook your head and walked as quickly as possible to the edge, climbed and got up, the three of you running towards the maze.
You knew the maze like the back of your hand so it was easy to get to the center, but at that moment you wish that you could just get lost in there because what you all saw was something you would never be able to forget as it was buried inside you mind very deeply.
Felix was laying there on his stomach, golden wings still attached to his back. His body a pale colour, almost a hint of blue, his beautiful eyes now without that incredible spark that you got so used to seeing. His lifeless body was something you never thought you would have to see in your life nor did you want to but for some reason you couldn't look away.
Venetia, you and Farleigh fell to your knees, grasping onto one another, looking for comfort as tears just started coming out, the pain in your chest unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was as if someone ripped out your heart, a huge hole right in the middle of your chest. Your ears started ringing and you felt like you were going to pass out. You suddenly felt like you weren't on this planet anymore, completely disoriented and if Farleigh and Venetia weren't grasping onto your body, you don't know how you would have dealt with this alone. You let out a loud scream, your chest convulsing from all the sobs that kept coming out of your body.
You don't know how or when you got up, left the maze and changed your clothes or when on earth did everybody gather for lunch, but there you were, sitting at the table with James, Elspeth, Venetia, Farleigh, oh and yes, of course, Oliver.
The curtains shut as the room plunged into darkness, making it look red like blood, not a hint of daylight. It somehow looked terrifying and gruesome, very unpleasant. You were sitting next to Farleigh, his face kind of emotionless as he kept staring at the table, not moving his gaze from the same spot. You reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, making him snap out of his thoughts, a sob suddenly falling from his lips. On your left was an empty chair and an empty plate. Felix's spot and when you first walked in and saw it, you broke down again.
Suddenly there was a hint of a squeaking gurney on the outside, meaning they were passing the window with Felix's body and then there was a sound of doors closing. A tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, your hand suddenly slipping away from Farleigh's.
"Oh my God... May I be excused, please?" Farleigh whimpered and got up from the table, his cheeks stained with tears.
"No. We haven't finished lunch." James replied, not even looking at Farleigh.
"Lunch is cold. You want me just eat it like nothing is happening?"
"What else is there to do, darling?" Elspeth looked at him, sadness noticable in her eyes.
"Anything! Anything-" You looked at him as he screamed out, a whimper escaping your lips as tears started falling from your eyes again. The pain was unbearable and seeing Farleigh like that broke your heart and how everybody acted like nothing ever happened, like Farleigh was the only one who actually cared and the only one who saw how messed up it was that everybody was acting like this. James slammed his fists on the table, the plates clattering. You jumped, your body shook from fear, the sudden change in tone almost too much.
"Farleigh! Will you be quiet?! Sit down and eat the bloody pie! Just eat it! Eat it and shut up! Eat the bloody pie!"
Farleigh sat down and grabbed his fork, placing the pie in his mouth but unable to chew through the meat. Small pieces flew out of his mouth and onto the plate, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"You're not the only person here with feelings. None of us wants your bloody American feelings!" James trailed off and suddenly there was silence inside the room. You didn't even try to put anything in your mouth because you felt like you were going to throw up.
"I think it’s delicious." Oliver suddenly said, Farleigh snapping at him.
"What the fuck are you still doing here?" you look at Oliver and his expression and there was nothing on his face. Like he didn't care. You wiped away your tears and placed your hands in your lap.
"Wait, does no one else find it weird?.. No one else finds that weird?"
"Farleigh.." you whispered and placed your hand on top of his, your fingers grazing his in a comforting way.
"I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh." Oliver replied in a strict tone, a fork in his hand.
"Excuse me?"
"Please stop." Venetia sighed and said quietly.
"What is he saying?" James asked and looked at Oliver.
"I..I've no idea." Farleigh said, clearly confused what Oliver wanted to get with all of this.
"What I'm saying is that I'd feel guilty too."
"Guilty?"
"If I was the one racking up lines the night someone died."
"Fuck you." Farleigh stared back at him, cursing, only hate for Oliver in his body at that very moment.
"That's not a denial." Oliver replied as he leaned forward a little bit, his gaze moving between you and Farleigh.
"You took it too far, Oliver." You interrupted them, defending Farleigh.
"Is that true?" James asked, pale with fury. He looked towards Duncan signaling him to leave. "Search Farleigh's room."
"No." Farleigh crumpled into his chair and started sobbing. Now you were a little bit scared. Your eyes widened, not surely understanding what they were going to do about this situation. Seeing and hearing what was happening was making the situation even harder. You couldn't take your eyes off Farleigh and when you saw tears continuously welling up in his eyes, you couldn't help but start sobbing as well. Your heart was breaking.
"Get out." Sir James said angrily.
"Please, he didn't do anything.." You looked at Sir James, begging, trying to make him see that it really wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to do with all of this. Of course he didn't believe you, he didn't even acknowledge you.
"No, wait-" Farleigh whimpered and wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his jumper.
"What's happening?" Elspeth asked after wiping her mouth eith a linen cloth.
"Aunt Elspeth- Elspeth-" he said desperately but got interrupted by James.
"Don’t you dare look at her!"
Elspeth looked liked she was now ignoring Falreigh, not wanting to look at him at all. Could she ever look at him again after this? Who knows.
"Get out!"
Farleigh looked around the table, searching for somebody to look at him, to see they were making a mistake but no one looked at him except for you. Not even Oliver. He got up your hand slipped off, hanging next to your body. Your lip trembled at the sudden empty feeling, your head hung low as you kept staring at your fingers. Farleigh grabbed onto the chair, picking at the stitching.
"I won't mention this to the police. That's all you get. Nothing more. Ever again." James trailed off and that was the last thing you heard from him that night. Farleigh turned to the side and left the room, leaving you alone with the Cattons and Oliver. You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand.
"You didn't have to do this. It wasn't his fault." You snapped back at Oliver, his eyes quickly looking back at you. A hidden smirk adorned his face, a sinnister look in his eyes.
"You know he did it. He was racking up lines the whole night. Felix could've taken whatever Farleigh was using." Oliver replied, his plate now half empty. "Even when you two were fucking outside. It was like a freak show."
"Fuck you." You quickly got up and threw the linen clot on the table, your legs feeling like jello. "If you'll excuse me, I can't be in the room with someone who cares more about a fucking stranger than a member of this family."
You turned around on your heels and walked out of the room. The second you closed the doors, you let out the biggest sob, a long hallway making it echo throughout the house. You felt like you were falling apart from the inside out.
You stood outside Farleigh's room as you quietly knocked on the door, only a quiet sob audible. You silently opened the door and what you saw broke your heart completely. Farleigh was laying on the floor, his knees pulled towards his body, his arms wrapped around them as loud sobs fell from his lips.
You looked around his room and saw how big of a mess it was. Everything was scattered on the floor. His clothes, his books, all of his belongings on the floor. You bit your lip in hopes it would stop you from crying, but it didn't help.
You walked over to his sobbing figure and knelt down, your arms immediately wrapping around his body.
"Farleigh... baby.." you whispered, his body shaking.
"They think I killed him." He whispered through his cries, his tears soaking the carpet underneath him. "I didn't do it." His cries kept getting louder and it was harder for you to stay quiet because you couldn't stand him being like this, broken, like he didn't mean anything to anybody. Like it was all his fault. You wanted to fix everything and make it all okay for him because that's exactly what he deserved. He deserved better and to be treated right.
"No, Farleigh, you didn't do it. It's not your fault, please don't think that. You didn't kill Felix." You told him, your hands caressing his arms, comforting him, hoping it would help him even just a little bit.
"Now I feel like I did." He cried out, his face now buried in his hands.
"Hey, come here." You grabbed his arm and gently pulled him, moving his hands from his face. You intertwined your fingers with his and helped him sit up, his knees once more pulled towards his body. You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, gently caressing his cheeks before you cupped his face, making him look at you directly in your eyes.
"You didn't do it, why would you think that? Because of Oliver?" He just nooded and closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest, the pressure and the pain in your heart from seeing Farleigh like this was unbearable.
"Fuck him, Farleigh. He's a nobody, a fucking leech and if I could get rid of him, I would. You're so much more than all of this. You deserve everything in this world and if they can't see it, fuck 'em." You trailed off, tears welling up in your eyes and your voice breaking every other word.
"Everybody is leaving me, pushing me away like I mean nothing." He sobbed and quickly got up as he started pacing around his room, his cries so loud that it seemed like he was fighting for air. You jumped up and stood there in place for a few seconds, somehow unable to move.
"Are you also going to leave me?" His voice cracked and right then he looked like a little kid. You dare to say that he looked absolutely defeated. "Please don't leave me."
A loud cry fell from your lips, his words hurting you, hurting how he thought that you would actually leave him after everything. You shook your head and practically ran towards him, your body smashing into his
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your face buried in his chest as you sobbed quietly. His arms squeezed you, almost as if he was afraid if he held you lightly or if he let you go, you would somehow slip away.
"I will never leave you, Farleigh. I could never. You're a part of me and if I lose you, I'll lose myself. Please don't ever think that I would leave you." He kissed the top of your head, one hand still wrapped around your body while the other gently caressed your hair.
"Now let's get out of here. Okay?" You kissed him on the lips gently, his arms resting on your hips. You had to get out of this house, had to get away from Saltburn as soon as possible. The only good thing about all of this? Farleigh by your side.
"Okay."
#farleigh start#saltburn#farleigh start x reader#saltburn x reader#farleigh start smut#saltburn smut
445 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: They meet you in the hospital
"She's dying," The nurse says to Ingrid.
The club had arranged for the team to go to the local hospital a few weeks before Christmas to give out gifts to the sick kids. Ingrid had enjoyed it greatly, meeting the children and their parents but she still needed a moment to herself.
She couldn't just keep the smile on her face when she saw the children walking with poles attached to wires or the little toddlers who had lost their hair due to chemo.
She had slipped into this hallway to get some respite, only to stumble across the only room that was filled.
Your room.
You've got a little placard hanging on your door, with your name written on it, covered with kitten stickers and smiley faces.
But you don't look smiley at all.
"Dying?" Ingrid echoes.
"Dying," The nurse replies," This is the cardiovascular wing."
"Her heart then?"
The nurse is solemn as she nods. "Her heart." There's silence and then," Would you like to go in and meet her?"
Ingrid's tempted to say no. You're tiny in your hospital bed and she's not even sure if you're older than five. It seems wrong for the nurse to say that you're dying.
"y/n?" The nurse says," This is Miss Ingrid."
"Hi, Miss Ingrid. Are you another doctor? Have you brought me my heart?"
Ingrid almost bursts into tears at the way you're looking at her. She shakes her head. "Sorry, honey," She says," I'm a footballer, not a doctor."
"That's okay," You say," Football's cool too."
Ingrid takes a seat at your bedside. "Very cool."
There's a solemnness in the ear as the nurse tinkers with some of the devices around you.
"Do you like football?"
You shrug. "I'm not allowed to play." You look down at your bedsheets. "I'm not allowed to because it'll make my heart go boom-boom too much. It's okay, I guess."
You look so sad by yourself and it makes Ingrid ask after your parents.
"I'm a..." Your brow furrows as you think of the word.
The nurse helps. "You're in care, aren't you?"
You brighten. "Uh-huh! My care worker's trying to find me a family so I can leave and wait for my new heart at home! I've been asking Santa so it should come soon!"
Ingrid's stomach drops. You're so small and so innocent and the one thing you've asked Santa for is a working heart. "I'm sure he's working very hard to get you that heart."
Ingrid very much hopes that the doctors are working very hard to get you a new heart.
"My heart now is alright," You continue," When I was littler and I was found at the fire station, I had a little hole in it that the doctors fixed but my heart was a little mean and didn't like the scar so it started going boom-boom wrong and now I've got to get a new one."
"I'm sure you'll get a new one very soon." Ingrid just knows that she's going to break down sobbing as soon as she's left, though she can't bring herself to walk out the door just yet.
"I hope so." You pull down your hospital gown to show the mess of wires connected to your body. "Because then I can get these out. They track my heart."
Ingrid spends the rest of her time at the hospital with you and, when she finally leaves, she knows immediately that she'll be back.
She brings Mapi her next few visits, warming both of you up to each other before she asks the question she knew she'd be asking the moment she walked out of your room.
Mapi is more than happy to fill in the required paperwork and spend the money to get your heart stuff into the apartment.
The day you come home with them is perfect.
Mapi brings you up on her back, careful of the little monitors that doctors have given you to track your heart clipped to your trousers. Ingrid opens the door.
You greet Bagheera and you sit in front of them on the floor.
They'd had your room ready for weeks now, just waiting for when you get home.
You're still weak and sickly but you're strong enough to wait for your hospital at home with them.
You take medication twice a day. They go into your room at night to check your monitor. You go everywhere with them, to training, to the shops, all the way to the beach and back.
You doze easily on Mapi, your arm splayed out as she runs soft fingers through your hair.
"What did the doctors say?" She asks softly as Ingrid re-enters the room.
You'd all just gotten back from your weekly check-up where they took scans and did tests on you that they had been waiting on everything to come back.
"The same as usual." Ingrid sounds defeated as she crouches by the sofa in front of you and Mapi. "She still needs a heart. She's stable enough for now. They're thinking about putting in a pacemaker or something called an ICD but those mean surgery. They said it could weaken her too much that if a heart comes along soon then she might not survive another operation."
Mapi's hand freezes in your hair. She wants to scream or maybe even cry. You're so little and already so sick.
"Is it bad," She says quietly," That I just want her to get a heart? I know that it means that another child will have to die so she can get it but..." Her throat closes up and she chokes out the words. "I don't care. I can't bring myself to care about that other child if it means she survives. I just can't. I know that we've only had her a few weeks and I know that the likelihood of her getting a heart is slim but...but-"
Mapi has to stop talking because tears are running down her face as she stares at you, so pliant and quiet on her chest as wires poke out from under your shirt to the little device that's checking your heart rate.
"I get it," Ingrid says," I want her to get that heart too."
For the most part, you're able to do exactly what other kids your age do but it all comes to a head the day of Patri's Christmas Eve party.
You're a bit more tired in the morning than usual and your whole appetite has tanked. You're a little shaky and your hands are super cold so you get put in a warm Christmas jumper and a hat and scarf for the walk to Patri's.
Ingrid and Mapi are loath to let you wander around Patri's apartment but you end up sitting in a group of the girls playing Uno and Keira lets you play on her team.
You're happy with them all but Mapi and Ingrid still hover nearby.
"How is she?" Alexia asks, sipping at the one alcoholic drink she's allowed herself tonight.
"The same," Mapi mutters back as Ingrid excuses herself to take a phone call from your doctor.
It's weird that he's calling so late but Ingrid will happily take a call from him at any time of day when it comes to you.
"I'm glad she's got you two," Alexia continues," She's such a sweet kid. God forbid anything like this happens to my kids."
Mapi smirks. "What? Seeing my kid's got you feeling all broody? Trying to copy me?"
Alexia rolls her eyes. "More like she's got Olga feeling broody. Honestly, they only met once."
"Olga's a bleeding heart," Mapi replies," You'd look cute with kids."
"You certainly do," Alexia compliments," You're more relaxed, you and Ingrid both. Are you going to adopt her?"
Mapi's face suddenly feels hot and she tears her gaze away from you for a moment. "I know it's early," She says," But we're already trying to sort out the paperwork. We're going to get through Christmas and see if a hea-"
Your monitor beats erratically, a loud sound that can be heard even over the music Patri's playing. You slump a little against Keira's side (much to her horror) and your eyes flutter closed for a moment.
Mapi barrels through everyone to get to you. You're still awake (barely) and your monitor displays that your heart is beating in an abnormal rhythm.
Mapi breathes out a sigh of relief. While not ideal, your heart does this sometimes and, just like now, it takes you a few minutes to go back to normal.
A crowd of the team have converged around you and you pathetically faceplant yourself into Mapi's neck with heavy, laboured breaths and grip fiercely onto her top.
"Great news!" Ingrid says as she enters the room before stopping as all eyes dart to her," What happened?"
"What news?" Mapi asks tentatively, still holding you close.
She's beaming again as she crouches down in front of you and rubs at your cheek. "Santa's brought you your heart."
"He's early!"
"He is!" Her eyes are a little wet as she puts your hat back on your head, pulling it down firmly. "How about we get to the hospital?"
You go into surgery within the next few hours.
When you wake up on Christmas morning, it's to Mapi and Ingrid at your bedside and a brand new heart from Santa.
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine
921 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love your writing. It's just the best. Seriously I check dc dp tags to see if you've written anything.
By the way, can you write anythng with another dc hero or maybe a villain? Maybe Superman or Captain Marvel(Shazam) or anything. You don't have to obviously, but it would be really cool if you did.
Oh gosh, thank you! I'm glad you like my rambles. I'm happy to write you a dabble! Hope you like!
Billy Batson was expecting a lot when the Wizard told him to only break the ice crystal in dire situations. He figured if the dying man had enough time to pass on thousands of years' worth of knowledge and store Old magical artifacts, then the Crystal had to be a last resort.
He also figured it wouldn't be so darn breakable. Billy felt they should have made the last resort a little steadier if it was so important.
But no, one accidental trip over his far too worn-out pants legs had the thing shattering like cheap glass.
Billy stares at the shimmering remains, his heart pounding in his chest as the soft green glow that had always come from the crystal fades away.
"Oh no. no, no, no. I can fix this. I can fix this. " He whispers to himself, falling to his knees and scooping up the pieces. He tries to reattach them, but the crystal melts in his palms. "I can't fix this."
All this because some jerk kicked him out of his old sleeping place, down by the docks. He had been squatting in Old Man's Jackson shed ever since the man finally bit the dust, and he had been so excited to have a building all to himself. Word must have gotten around somehow because he comes back from a Justice Leauge Meeting to find a sixteen-year-old rooting through his stuff.
As a homeless ten-year-old, Billy had scrambled to reclaim his possessions, including this critical crystal, jumping on the intruder with a war cry. He got a broken arm, a black eye, and a few bruised ribs for his troubles.
Thankfully he could walk away with most of his things as the teen sneered and screamed at him while he ran away.
It's not that Billy couldn't fight off the homeless teenager, but he didn't, and to go all Captain Marvel on some random citizen. Captain Marvel can go toe to toe with Superman, but plain old Billy Batson struggles to take kids his own age. He's always been smaller than his age group, not to mention hunger's damage to him.
He returned to the abandoned subway, stumbling down the dark tunnel. Billy didn't like the place- it was damp and cold and a little too open if someone else wandered in, but it was the only place he could go for the night on such short notice. He was thinking of asking Batman if he could take more shifts on monitor duty just so he could sleep at the watch tower.
Then his pants leg got stuck on a broken stair, and he fell, sending his dew earthly possessions into the air. Now he was, blinking away the spots from the beating the teenager gave him and a powerful artifact he promised the Wizard he keep safe, broken beyond repair.
Against his will, sobs start to shake his body. The more he fought to clear his eyes from the tears, the more he began to fall. He leans his forehead on the floor, uncaring how a piece of crystal cuts his skin, causing a trail of crimson to flow down his face. What's one more scar on his already broken body?
In a moment of weakness, he violently wishes he could run to his mom for comfort. It's a fantasy. She's long gone, buried next to his dad, and his uncle was somewhere warm spending their money.
The knowledge causes more despair, and he sobs harder.
Why does he have to be here hungry, without a home, when his father's brother didn't even bother to attend their funeral is living off of his inheritance? Living great, if all the zeros he saw on the check were any indication?
Life is genuinely unfair sometimes. That's why he took being Captain Marvel so seriously. Someone had to protect people from the cruelty of life.
A swirling green portal rips open underneath him just as the trailing thought of I wish someone out there wanted to protect me just as much.
His echoing scream, the swirling green, is the last thing Billy knows before everything goes black.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Billy wakes to the sound of someone humming. He blinks open his eyes, fighting against the exhaustion and the siren call of slumber. The first thing he notices is the soft green of the walls, like the color of Easter eggs he used to paint with his Dad. He smiles at them.
It's his favorite color.
Then Billy notices his eyes getting heavy again as he slowly turns his head into the plush pillow and sinks into the warm blankets around him. His body is boneless in comfort, his eyes are closed, and he's just dropping off into dreamland when his mind finally notices that you're homeless and don't know this room. You're in danger!
Billy leaps off the bed like he's been shocked, throwing the two blankets on the ground. Glancing around, he's horrified to see he's in some kind of kid room- comics, toys, posters- all tailored to his tastes. He can even spot an archeology kit for kids sitting on a desk, just like the ones his parents used to buy him when he wanted to help out in their digs.
He always thought he actually found something in his little play rocks while waiting at one of the tents as his parents worked. They always beamed when he showed them the fake dinosaur bones he discovered in his kits.
He even has nice, fluffy pajamas. The kind that doesn't have buttons or zippers but is oversized, so they let him toss and turn in the night. His bottoms are a grey and black checker pattern, while the top has the Batman symbol proudly on the front.
Everything is perfect, from the decor, to his clothes to even the furniture placement.
It's the bedroom of his dreams.
Oh gosh, he has been Coraline-ed!
"Oh, Billy! You're up. Breakfast is ready and I just finished ironing your uniform." A man's voice says from the doorway. He swings his head around to see a man in his late twenties in an apron smiling at him. He's handsome, has fluffy black hair and baby-blue eyes, and practically embodies comforting vibes.
The other-mother.
"Who are you!?" Billy demands, fist raised. He can't go Captain Marvel with someone dead on staring at him- at least he risks his secret identity, but he has been on the streets long enough to put up a decent fight.
The man seems flabbergasted by his aggression which causes Billy to bristle until he slaps his own forehead.
"Right, forgot about the introduction. I'm Danny Fenton, and I will be your new guardian until you are old enough to care for yourself." Danny smiles, and the boy can't help but find it too pretty to be authentic. "As per your request as the champion of Magic."
Billy has been taken by someone who knows he's Captain Marvel. Which could be better on the one hand but on the other, it means he can do this.
"Shazam!" A bolt of lighting has him shifting into his adult form and flying a break neck speed towards the threat. He intends to punch Danny, but his fist is caught in Danny's palm like it's nothing.
Danny seems unimpressed. "Don't think you can Shazam yourself out of class, young man. Being a hero will cut your attendance, but I won't allow you to skip just because."
Calm yourself, child Batson Solomon says to Bill. King Phantom is here per your request for aid. He will not harm you.
What request!? I never called for him!
When you broke the Infinite Realms Crysta of distress, you called for someone to protect you like your caregivers once did. King Phantom is the most vigorous protective spirit in all the realms. He answered the call. Solomon replies. Billy can feel the god shift on his golden throne a sense of amusement. It's strange to know what the gods are doing without really seeing them He made a deal with the wizard to pose as your father until you are of age. You both are bonded by this Oath.
An oath. That made Billy feel a little better. He knows that once an Oath is made, no one in the parties involved can break it. If the Wizard had done one while borrowing Billy's body then Billy would be untouchable until the contract was done.
He has a new dad that would be bound by magic and the might of the six gods to protect him.
Billy was curious to know if that was a good thing or not. Being protected is not the same as being loved.
"Kid? You okay?" Danny asks.
"What is expected of me? What do you want me to do?" Billy counters, floating back a little now that he knows what's happening. An Oath is a two-way deal. If Danny had to pretend to be Bill's father, then Billy had to do something for Danny.
"Well, I expect you to have your teeth brushed and eat your breakfast before class, but something tells me that's not what you mean." Danny jokes with a chuckle. Billy frowns, which makes the humor on the man's face disappear. "In all honesty? You are my anchor. I haven't been in the material world for years. Not since my home dimension was destroyed by an asteroid. I missed it. I missed people."
Okay, nothing sinister. But he would never let this random stranger think he had the right to boss Billy around.
"You don't have to pretend to be my dad when we're alone. And you can't tell me what to do!" Billy hisses, expecting the man to get upset like other foster fathers had been before he ran.
Danny nods. "Sounds fair. Sorry for coming on like a fruitloop."
"A.....fruitloop?"
"A big fruitloop. One with a cat."
Right.
"You said my uniform. What uniform?" Billy asks to choose to come back to Danny's odd phrase later.
"Gotham Acadamy. I signed you up for classes-"
"We're in Gotham!? Why?!"
Danny tilts his head. "It's the only place with enough death to sustain me."
Billy is glad he is Captain Marvel right now. Otherwise, he thinks he would need more guts to ask. "Why do you need death?"
"Not death itself, more like the by-product. I need ectoplasm since I;;m a ghost." With a bright flash of twin rings, Danny shifts into a very obviously non-human form, and Billy's mouth drops.
"You're dead?!"
"So-and-so. I'm a halfa. A being dead and alive but at the same time neither" Danny rubs the back of his neck, twirling his small point tail nervously. "Yeah, it's a bit confusing. Sorry."
"It's fine....ugh so we just live in Gotham until I'm what eighteen?"
"Until your twenty." Danny winces at the glare Billy throws him. "Sorry, ghosts see adulthood as two decades for the living, two centuries for the dead. Since I'm both, I have to follow both and thus have to be your caregiver until you're twenty. I can portal you to Fawcett whenever you need to hero with the snap of my fingers. It'll be inconvenient, but I promise it will be better than the streets. And I will never, ever hurt you, Billy."
Billy crosses his arms, listening with half a ear as the gods start speaking at one, their voices and opinions a background noise he long learns to turn out until Atlas is louder than the rest.
I understand this might be a lot at once, young Batson, but accept King Phantom's help. You will no longer be alone. It is not easy carrying the world on your shoulders, trust me.
The god's words make Billy sure this is a good idea.
"Shazam!" With another burst of lighting, Billy is a kid again, stretching his neck back to make eye contact with the taller man. "Alright. You got yourself a deal .... again."
Danny grins, warm and delight dancing in his eyes. "Excellent! Lets's hurry then, we're supposed to arrive at your school early today to meet with a man in charge of your scholarship who is my new employer for computer software. That's our cover, by the way. We moved here after I got a job at the man's company."
"Who are we meeting?"
"Someone unimportant, I'm sure," Danny says, waving a hand. "My friend Clockwork set us up our background, we have the papers to prove everything."
Billy finds out that Danny really is from a different universe because how in the world could he claim Bruce Wayne as unimportant!
#dcxdpdabbles#Ghost Dad au#Danny adopts Billy#Then moves him to Gotham#Where he uses ghost magic to get a job with WE#Nothing sus here#HOPE YOU LIKE#I don't really know Billy's story line besides some comics so I blended the facts I do know about him for his backstory#Not Phantom Planet Canon
871 notes
·
View notes
Note
Girlllllll I'm literally obsessed with emt!Marauders. Could you maybe write one where the reader is at their apartment for dinner or something, and starts to have a panic attack, and thinks they're dying and gets the Marauders because they believe they're having a heart attack? Thanks :)
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: panic attack
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
At first you mistake the pounding on the door for your heartbeat. It thunders in your chest, beating against your rib cage like it's vying for escape. But then the sound comes again, and you remember than you actually did go through with making the call.
You go to get the door, opening it to find a startlingly attractive paramedic wiping his shoes on your mat. Dark eyebrows rise, disappearing behind a mop of curly hair, when he sees you.
“You look a bit young for a heart attack,” he says.
“James, don’t fuck around.” Another man, taller, shoulders past him carrying a medical bag. “You called emergency services?” he asks you. You nod mutely, having discovered over the phone that talking only makes your chest hurt worse. “Alright, can we come in?”
You nod again, backing away from the door to give them room to enter. A third paramedic follows, immediately taking you by the elbow and guiding you over to your own couch. “Hi, doll, I’m Sirius. What’s your name?”
You wheeze out an answer, sitting when Sirius encourages you downward. He seems unperturbed by your agitated state, smiling as he crouches in front of you. Any other time, the effect would be heart-stopping. You wish it worked like that now.
“Y/n, do you have a family history of heart problems? Any pre-existing conditions?” You shake your head no to both, and he nods calmly. “Okay, but you think you’re having a heart attack, huh?”
You press a hand to your chest, tears invading your vision as the other paramedic—James, you’d heard him called—squats beside Sirius, looking at you concernedly.
“It hurts,” you croak out.
“Got it,” James reassures you. He passes a pair of gloves to Sirius, who begins wiggling them on. “When did it start to hurt? Did anything happen that might’ve caused it?”
“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. Your lungs feel like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment, but James holds your gaze, grounding you. “It just—I was making dinner, and it just started.”
“I understand,” he says, voice soothing. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here. You’re having a panic attack, sweetheart.” You must look anguished at the lack of validation for your hurt, because James sets a gloved hand on your forearm, rubbing comfortingly. “It’s really scary, I know, but you’re not dying. We’re gonna get you feeling better, alright?”
You want to trust him, you really do, but everything in your body is contradicting him right now. You’re dying, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. A tear spills out of your eye.
“It’s all right,” he promises you. “Listen, this here is Remus, he’s going to help get you breathing a bit better for us, yeah?” The second paramedic, the one who’d come in with the bag, sits down on the couch beside you. He gives you a small smile, the myriad of small and large scars across his face shifting with the movement. James gives your arm a solid pat. You try not to jolt. “You’re in good hands, I promise.”
“Hi, are you comfortable?” Remus asks you. He has a gentle sort of voice, a bit raspy but soft where it counts.
You’re sitting with both feet flat on the floor, your hands in your lap like you’re a guest in someone else’s house. This all seems a bit more polite than you were expecting. It’s missing the urgency of blaring sirens and shouting voices you’d forced yourself to mentally prepare when you’d made the call for help. You feel horribly stiff, but you nod at Remus anyway, because you’re not sure comfortable is something you can find right now.
A small furrow appears between his brows. “Are you sure? You can sit however feels best for you, love, we’ll move around to accommodate you.”
You shift around awkwardly, bringing your feet onto the couch with your knees near your chest. Remus gives you a rewarding smile.
“Good, good. Okay, we’re just going to try to slow your breathing down a bit, yeah?” He takes your hand in his kindly, touching your palm to his chest. “It might be hard at first, but try to copy me, please.”
He inhales deeply, and you manage maybe half of what he does before the air comes whooshing back out of you. A sob works its way up in your chest. You don’t know how there’s still room for anything else in there.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” Remus says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand. “We just have to keep going, it’ll get easier.”
You want desperately for him to be right, and he is. You’re not sure how much time passes with Remus holding your hand to his chest, breathing for the both of you, but eventually you’re able to mimic him. He starts counting, four in, hold for four, and then four out, encouraging you every step of the way.
You feel a pressure on the inside of your wrist. You look down, but Remus catches your chin in his hand. “You’re all right, love, James is just getting your vitals. You’re doing so well, keep going.”
You do your best to keep focussed on him, ignoring the occasional prodding or the feel of cool metal against your back. The pain in your chest eases to a dull ache. Soon, you’re no longer straining to hear over the blood rushing past your ears.
“Alright.” Your concentration breaks at the sound of a voice to your left, and you look over to see Sirius coming through the door. You hadn’t realized he’d left. “We’re all set in the back, how are we doing in here?”
“Pretty good,” Remus says, giving your hand a kind squeeze before letting it drop from his chest. His voice takes on a wry quality as he turns to Sirius. “Could’ve been better if you hadn’t distracted her, but now I suppose we’ll never know.”
“Sorry.” Your voice sounds hoarse and torn up.
Remus looks at you with something close to alarm, but Sirius speaks before he can. “Oh, it’s nothing to do with you, dollface, he just likes giving me shit.” He steps forward, peering at you. “You look tons better. No gurney, then?”
“Don’t think so,” James says, and you look down to find him crouched at your side, draping a stethoscope back over his neck. “Heart rate’s coming down with breathing, and it doesn’t seem like anything else is amiss. Should be an easy ride.” He looks at you, warm brown eyes melting you like wax. “Think you can walk out to the ambulance, sweetheart?”
“I—sure, yeah.” You stand on shaky legs, and both Remus and James stand with you, hands hovering in case you need them. You feel so pathetically frail you almost want to laugh. “Um, why are we going to the ambulance?”
“We’re just going to bring you to the hospital to make sure there’s nothing else wrong,” Remus says. “It’s nothing to worry about, just precautionary stuff.”
“But I’m—I’m okay, right?”
“We think so,” James reassures you, taking your elbow to help you off the curb by the ambulance. “Do you not feel okay?”
“I feel better,” you say uncertainly. “It’s just…” You bring your hands up closer to your face. They’re trembling gently, just like the rest of you. “I can’t stop.”
“That’s totally normal,” Remus promises. James abandons your side to hop into the ambulance, reaching down to help you up, and Remus’ hands ghost over your waist as you clamber inside. He climbs up after you. “You might also have some muscle soreness, nausea, fatigue. It’s probably all just your body coming down from the attack, but you should still tell us, okay?”
“Okay,” you echo, nodding. “Yeah, I’m really tired.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart.” James rubs your shoulder warmly, encouraging you to sit on the gurney in the center of the ambulance. “You can take a little nap on the way if you gotta. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
#poly!marauders#emt!marauders#emt!marauders x reader#marauders au#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders angst#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#the marauders#marauders x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction
701 notes
·
View notes
Note
for cole walter, could you do one where reader replaces jackie (so her fam died and she moved in with the walter’s) and cole doesn’t really like her. one day she gets a cold, and cole takes care of her (begrudgingly) and realizes she isn’t so bad 🫶🏼🥹
Cole Walter Does Care
Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun
I rolled over in my bed and felt a headache coming on the second I woke up which really sucked. Slowly sitting up I thought I would feel better that only seemed to make it worse. My nose was beginning to get stuffy and my throat felt dry. Footsteps came from the hallway and I heard whoever it was pause outside my door. “Hey Y/n, my mom is making breakfast. Woah you don’t look too good.”
“Thanks Alex - uh I didn’t know that.” I started coughing and then reached over needing to blow my nose into some tissues.
He entered my room with a sad expression. “I can get my mom to check you out if you want.”
“Please do.” I whimpered, sounding so helpless tugging the covers back over my chest.
He nodded, rushing out of the room and going downstairs to go get her. “On it, Y/n.” Once he was gone I yanked the coves over my head screaming and coughing into my blankets.
“Sounds like there’s a dying angry animal in here. Oh no sorry it’s just you Y/n.” I noticed the voice of Cole who when I peaked my head above the blanket saw that he was leaning in my doorway.
Grumbling under my breath I really wasn’t in the mood for his teasing. “Go away Cole. I’m not feeling good and you’ll just make it worse.”
“Ah now I’m offended since most people find my company to be quite enjoyable.” He walked into my bedroom sitting down on the side of my bed moving the cover down from my eyes so he could see some of my face.
“Well I d-don’t-“ I attempted to say but another coughing fit had to hit me right before his mother and Alex came back into my bedroom.
Catherine sat down and pushed Cole off the bed, putting a hand to my forehead. “Oh you're burning up. You'll just have to stay in bed today and miss the fair.”
“Okay Skylar and Tara won't be happy.” I responded in a tired breath.
She shakes her head eyeing her older son. “I'm sure they'll understand honey. Cole, I need you to stay and take care of her.”
“What the hell!” He raised his voice, accidentally cursing at his mother.
I sat upright on the pillows but had a coughing fit as a result. “No! He doesn't need to be here…”
“This is not up for discussion. Y/n you are really sick and Cole you will be staying home to take care of her. Because you're grounded after we found out you were sneaking girls out of the house. Come on, Alex.” She got to her feet and she left with Alex following her downstairs leaving us alone in my bedroom together.
Laying my head back down on the pillows I yanked the covers over my head screaming into it until Cole made a comment. “Don't think I'm happy about this either.”
“Oh sure. I'm sorry my illness prevented you from hooking up with Erin or Olivia or Paige!” I snapped at him.
His green eyes glared at me. “You don't have the right to judge my life.”
“Neither do you about me then!” I growled turning my back towards him.
Cole watched me for a little while hearing me doze off for a few hours of sleep. He sure found you annoying at times but there was something about you that he liked. It was the fact that you fought with him over the most ridiculous stuff. Most girls just fell at his beck and call except you. He walked around the room noticing a notebook laying on the desk. “Y/n's diary…hmm. I can't deny that I may have feelings for Cole even though he drives me nuts.” He debated reading it but when he flipped to one of the middle he heard you groan waking up.
“Cole, I'm gonna puke.” I moaned, struggling to get out from under the blankets.
He dropped the book rushing over to me, he put one arm underneath my shoulder and the other under the back of my knees carrying me through the door and across to the bathroom on this floor. “I've got ya…I've got ya.” He reassured me when I collapsed onto my knees puking in the toilet.
I felt one of his hands holding my hair back and the other was rubbing my back till I was finished. “Thanks Cole…”
“You’re welcome. See I'm not a total asshole.” He responded sitting across from me on the floor. His honey blonde hair was tossed and in his eyes like always.
Hugging my knees to my chest, my hair was a wreck and my nose was red. I looked like a complete mess and I didn't care for it one bit. His green eyes remained on me before I asked him not to handle the silence well. “If you wanna say something to me just go on and get it out, Walter.”
“I read part of your diary after you fell asleep. I know how you feel about me and honestly I'm shocked given how I've treated you.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was just a casual thing to say to someone.
I raised my voice in frustration grabbing a tissue when I had to sneeze two or three times. “You read my diary! Cole, you have no right to that. How much did you read - god I want to crawl in a hole now I'm so embarrassed.” Covering my face that was red as a tomato avoiding his gaze.
“Aren't you going to ask me how I felt about it?” Cole questioned with a curious look on his face.
Knitting my brows at the former star football player. “You’re telling me you have a crush on me. Yeah right. I'll believe it in another universe.”
“Do you believe me when I do this?” He shifted onto his knees coming closer to me.
Lifting my head up he cut my question off. “What are you doing-” His lips landed right on mine. Cole scooted closer and placed his hands on either side of my face. I wanted to push him away because I was sick and two because he shouldn't even couldn’t really be kissing me now.
Trailing my hands up his chest my arms wrapped around his neck and he moaned into the kiss after we had gotten closer. Cole tugged me up to sit down on his lap wrapping his arms around my waist holding me close to his chest as possible. “Cole, stop - Cole stop. We can’t be doing this.” Pushing my hands on his chest he drew back confused.
“Because you're sick. I don't care about that. I just needed you to know that I actually care about you, Y/n.” He declared still cupping my face on his hands green eyes so focused on me.
Moving one hand through his honey hair, my other drops to his shoulder blade. “I can't believe it, Cole Walter has a crush on me. Here I was thinking you hated me.” I chuckled with a half grin.
“Why did you think I only picked on you when you first got here. I figured you had a thing for bad guys in you somewhere. Just had to bring it out of ya, darling.” Cole tucked hair behind my ear before he could hear a lot of footsteps heading up the wooden stairs outside the shut bathroom door.
“What do we - uh do!” I sneezed where Cole gave me a tissue and I wiped my nose watching him get to his feet.
He scooped me up bridal style once more where I wrapped my arms around his neck enjoying the feeling of being in his arms like this. “Don't worry, we'll go to my room. They all know better than to go in there…now where we're we?” He carried me quickly out and into his room, closing and locking the door.
“Cole, I'm nowhere near ready for that kind of thing. Sorry if that disappoints you.” I apologize for crawling under the covers on his bed, blushing a deep shade of red.
He kicked off his shoes and got in beside me, gently pushing my head down in the crock of his neck so I would fall asleep. “I don't care about sleeping with you yet. I just wanted to see you blush.”
“Cole!” I punched his chest hearing him laugh and it was music to me considering he rarely ever laughs.
He kissed the crown of my head and watched my eyes begin to close shut. “I'm just playing with ya, Y/n. Now get some rest.” I closed my eyes and looped my hand with his freehand that wasn't playing with hair to make me dose off in his arms.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#cole walter x reader#cole x reader#cole walter#noah lalonde#mlwtwb#my life with the walter boys#horse ranch#sick reader#taking care of sick person#ask box is open for anything#comments really appreciated#requests are open#alex walter#netflix#jackie howard
437 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can I call you mine?
"Can I call you mine?"
"HAHA! Get the fuck away from my sister."
"hm..what about..No!"
"Alastor calm down dear.."
Lucifer Morningstar x Older sister of alastor! Reader x Adam..(ish?????, NdYes it's female again..ahem but in future blogs it won't be " female!" Bare with me..) swearings, Alastor being a protective younger brother🤷🤷, flirty Lucifer, he's off character I guess? (Thank you so much, for enjoying my recent blog! I appreciate it!!) English is my first language, and I may have grammar issues
Part 1.
How are you a demon..? Well let's just say, you killed dozens of people in sadness and rage, after your younger brother died. you also killed the person who killed him.
"You are sentenced to be killed in the electric chair, Ms. Altruist." The judge looks at you with a heavy stare, you look back at him with a sweet smile, "Oh about time Mr judge." You knew about your brother's doings, but you still love him, and still think of him as your brother
You sat on the electric chair, with a small gentle smile, "It's terrifying to see ya still smilin, even if you're gonna die." You chuckled at the officer, "oh you! It's how I am~" the officer looked at you confusedly, "well uhm, are you ready?" You nodded,
He puts a bag in your head, you are starting to see darkness, as you start to feel electrified...
You feel the heavy floor, as you slowly open your eyes(your color palette is the same as alastor!) You were met by a red sky, you sat straight, and stood up, dusting your dress, and looking around your surroundings, it had a different feeling, you were still feeling bangs in your head, you walked down in the alleyway, and stumbled upon a store, you looked into the glass, you looked slightly different... (Your powers are lighting, due to you dying by the electric chair, but I also wanted you to be a deer, just like Alastor, I know it doesn't make sense, but bare with me please!) You had antlers, and ears, your nails were sharp, "Well would you look at that, seems like I'm in hell!" You laughed as the demons around you looked at you weirdly, you smiled back at them and started walking down the street, until you heard a girl singing...
"Today is gonna be a fucking happy d—"
"why hello there my dear!"
she jumped and looked around, she was wearing a suit, (hot pink? Or..pink Mix with red..?) She had long, blonde hair, with lighter blonde and pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl with an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt. Over this she usually wears a fitted red tuxedo jacket with dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes. (Found that in wiki..ahem..sorry..)
She looked at you, and laughed nervously "oh hey! Uh.." your smile reminded her of someone but she nudged it off.
"Quite an interesting song sweetheart! My name is _____! I'm quite pleased to be meeting you!"
Charlie softly smiled, "hey, I'm Charlie, Charlie Morningstar, I was heading for a meeting, would you care tooooo...go with me?"
You smiled wickedly, "Morningstar? My! I didn't know that was real, how shocking" you softly smiled, "I'd love to join you sweetheart!" She nods her head, and gestures to you to follow her, as you follow her, with a grave movement.
You both entered, a white looking room, it was a different feeling compared to when you guys were outside, you looked around while Charlie signed something, you looked back at her, and followed where she was going, you both now entered a room who is full of darkness, "Sup." then light suddenly filed the room as Charlie tripped, you helped her up and fixed her hair, "Hi! I-m charlie..uhh..my dad sent a meeting to Uhhh" (I actually forgot what she was saying so I'm really sorry if it's not interesting now) "Really nice to meet you!"
"Rightttt, nice to meet you too!" As the man held his hand out, Charlie went to it and to shake hands with him, only for her hand to go through it.
Timeskip (Really sorry, but I ran out of stuff to say in this part)
You were standing, all the time, you noticed The man kept looking at you, you looked back at him, as he winked at you, you sweat dropped and looked away,the man wore a smooth white and golden cloak that appears to have a large 'A' symbol emblazoned on the front. His visible hands were black in appearance, as well, and had golden tip spikes on the back of his collar. The mask also held a pair of horns similar to an exorcist, albeit longer, smoother, and with a golden ornamental attachment on the tips.
As Charlie talked about the hell population, about like..reducing.
"Oh Uhhh, ugly people?..math!..global warming wait no—"
Charlie talked about "BIGGEST PROBLEM"
"ohhh...yeah..well..that must've sucked for you!" Adam laughed, "Anyway, who's this chick beside ya?" Charlie came to the realization that you were still there, "ohh my gosh! ____! Really sorry, well Uhhh, Adam sir. This is ____!" You smiled widely "Adam is it? First man? Nice to be meeting you! I'm quite pleased!" You smiled even more, and fixed your hair, Adam smirked and got up from his seat and walked towards you, he took your hand and gave the back of your hand a kiss, you imagined alastor being here, you knew he would be fuming.
You chuckled, "how lovely!" You took away your hand, "thought you angels despise demons."
"well demon-tits you're an exception."
"how shocking! Don't call me that please."
"Call me Dick master first."
"hah! Never gonna happen."
Charlie dragged you away from him, she stared at you worriedly.
Adam spoke again "Whoops seems like we're outta time, guess we should get going."
Charlie smiled, "Oh well, I have a lot to go through!" She spawned papers with her hands, "and not a lot of time and I think you weren't hearing me before, so here it goes..
Timeskip after the song.
You already wanted to get out, as you saw Charlie being pushed out by Adam, you tried going to her then Adam grabbed you back, "hey babe, what about you give me a kiss before you go?"
"HAH! no."
You looked at him dumbfounded, as got out of the room, and helped Charlie up, the door closed, you and Adam held an eye contact.
"well how interesting!"
The grammar issues, I'm so sorry!!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#reader insert#x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin adam#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel adam
271 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
