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loveesiren · 5 months

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𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗎𝗌𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 2)

Disclaimer: I absolutely fucking hate this chapter but atleast it gives some background I guess. I'm sorry I made ya'll wait three weeks 😭 Also, I'm using the Sturniolo's as characters, in no way shape or form am I trying to convey that this is who they actually are.

Synopsis: Y/n finds out her best friends might not actually be the friends she thinks.

Warnings: Language, attempted SA (not from the triplets), scars, heroin use, police

Word Count: 2.7k+

I made my way down the dimly lit street. I was freezing and pissed off and high out of my mind off whatever my asshole date had given me. I met some loser named Marcus on Instagram and met him in downtown Boston to hangout. We took some pills and drove around but when I wouldn’t put out, he kicked me to the curb.

So here I was, walking in the ghetto streets of Boston at 2am. No sixteen year old should be out here in this area, especially at this hour, but I thought I was invincible. My only mistake was not charging my phone before I left. The only person who knew where I was was Alahna. Everyone else assumed I was spending the night at Alahna’s and I made her swear not to tell anyone. My parents would ground me for the rest of my life and Chris, well, Chris just worried. A lot. He was my best friend after all.

I clutched my purse close to my body, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone that was out at this hour. I noticed what looked like a gas station a couple blocks ahead so I picked up the pace, hoping they would have a place I could charge my phone or atleast a phone I could use to call a taxi.

I heard whistling nearby and I froze. “Well good evenin’, darlin’!” A man shouted out and I prayed to God he wasn’t talking to me. I continued walking, quicker now but it wasn’t long before I heard footsteps catching up with me. Two large men surrounded me and I froze once again. “Don’t ya know it’s rude to ignore a man when he’s talkin’ to ya’?”

His southern accent was thick and they both smelled of cheap booze and cigarettes. “What do you want?” I ask nervously, cowering under their dark stares.

“You look a little too nice to be from around these parts. Where ya off to at this hour? Maybe me and my friend here could help ya out,” the man smirked. “For a small fee, of course.”

“If it’s money you want, just take it!” I yelled, thrusting my purse at the man and trying to push past him but his goon was quick to grab me. “Let me go!”

“Oh I don’t think so, Princess. We wanna have some fun.” The men let out a haunting laughter and I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I should have just fucked that stupid boy. I should have just stayed home.

I began thrashing around as hard as I could, desperately trying to squirm my way out of the mans’ tightening grip. “HELP!” I screamed out. “PLEASE! HELP!”

Before I could get another word out a blunt object struck me across my head and I collapsed to the ground in a dizzy heap. I tried to feel where I’d been hit but my vision was blurred. I could feel a wetness running down the side of my face and landing on the concrete below. I let out an agonizing scream before consciousness completely escaped me.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n?” A familiar voice repeating my name in the darkness.

“Chris?” I attempted. I couldn’t feel my lips.

“Y/n, wake up!”

I opened my eyes and drew in a sharp breath, realizing quickly that my lungs were desperate for air. I clutched my chest as I fought to catch my breath.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.” Chris’s soothing voice was like music to my ears

“Fuck, what happened?” I ask after finally steadying my breathing.

“You were screaming in your sleep.” Chris said. “Did you have the nightmare again?”

I sighed, remembering that God awful night. “Yeah, I think so…” I touched the scar on my head. It was almost three inches long, sitting partially on my forehead but most of it was covered by my hair thankfully. I looked over at Chris, he was looking down, twiddling his thumbs and biting his lip. He hated remembering that night. But I owed my life to him.

I crawled into his lap and wrapped my arms around him. I felt him let out a sigh of relief as he snaked his arms around my waist and squeezed me tight. I know how much anxiety he got about my safety after finding me like he did.

What I didn’t know that night was how amazing my friends truly were. Alahna had been tracking my phone the whole night to make sure I was safe and when she realized I was no longer moving by vehicle and instead walking in some sketchy part of downtown Boston, she immediately called Chris and his brothers. Alahna tracked my phone all the way up until it died and then Matt drove up and down the streets of the area I was in. When Chris saw the two guys picking up my limp, bleeding body in an attempt to get me out of my dress, he jumped from his brothers’ moving vehicle without warning to save me. Luckily he had back up. Matt drove up onto the sidewalk towards the men, scaring them off.

I mean, I don’t remember any of this since I was bleeding out and unconscious. But it’s the story I’ve been told. I do faintly remember Chris’s panicked voice calling out my name. I tried desperately to respond to him but I’m not sure if any words made it past my lips.

Since then Chris has definitely been a little overprotective. But I can’t blame him. I’m grateful to him. To Matt, Nick, and Alahna too. If it wasn’t for them I would’ve been raped and most likely dead. Unfortunately, the men who did it were never caught. I tried my best to give a description but the drugs mixed with fear and partial memory loss from my head injury wasn’t enough information for the cops to find them. So the second I turned eighteen and graduated highschool, I was ready to pick up my life and move across the country. Luckily, Chris, Matt, and Nick were blowing up on Youtube and agreed that Los Angeles would be a great place to further their career. So we all left to start a new life.

“I love you.” I told Chris.

“I love you too, Y/n. Are you feeling okay? You were pretty drunk last night.”

I pulled back to look at him with a guilty smirk. “Yeah…sorry about that..”

He gave me a warm smile. “No biggie.”

I looked down at his hand that was now resting on my knee, noticing it was wrapped in a blood soaked bandage. “Fuck Chris! What happened to your hand?!”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He said, attempting to hide his hand.

I could feel the frown forming on my face. “It was my fault…wasn’t it?”

“No! No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is. It always is.” I said, climbing off of him and off the bed entirely. “I always do something to fuck up and worry you and you can’t just let me ruin your fun all the time, Chris!”

“What do you mean? You didn’t ruin anything.” He said, standing up to meet me.

I worked on changing out of Chris’s clothes and into some of my own I had laying around his room. “I just…I just can’t have you worrying about me all the time. When we go out I want you to have fun, let loose, meet girls…” the words tasted bitter on my tongue. Chris almost winced at the sound of them. “I don’t need you to spend all your time and energy taking care of me, okay?”

Chris grinded his jaw, visibly frustrated. “You know I can’t just not do that, Y/n.”

“But why not, Chris?”

“Because you almost died!” His voice was angry now. No, not angry. Hurt. Scared. I could see tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I-I just can’t let that happen again. I’ll never forgive myself for letting it happen in the first place.”

“Chris…” My heart broke. How could he ever think that was his fault? “You didn’t let anything happen. I was the one who snuck out and didn’t tell anyone. I was a stupid kid and I learned a hard lesson. None of it was ever your fault.”

“But-”

“No buts!” I interrupted him. “It wasn’t your fault. Period. And I owe you my life for saving me that night. But you don’t need to waste yours looking after me. It was seven years ago. We’re adults now. We deserve to be happy and have fun, yeah?”

Chris nodded hesitantly. I could tell he didn’t want to but I hated the idea of him spending all his time focused on my safety and missing out on experiences that could make him truly happy.

“Good. Let’s go get some grub.” I say, offering him a soft smile. He attempts to smile back but the sadness remains in his eyes.

Chris followed me upstairs to the kitchen. “Morning boys!” I greet Matt and Nick.

“How the hell are you so chipper?” Matt asks. “You were absolutely faced last night!”

“She got it all out of her system in our front yard.” Nick chimed in, giving me a fake smile.

“Yeah…sorry about that…” I say, scratching my head.

“Your dress is good as new too, Princess.” Matt adds, motioning to your gold dress hanging from the door to the laundry.

I cringed at the Princess. But decided to ignore it.

“You guys are the bestttt!” I whine, giving them both timid hugs in hopes they’ll forgive me.

“Yeah, yeah. We know.” Nick says, hugging me back. “Here, eat up. We’re going to another party tonight.”

I sit down and nibble on some of the bacon Nick had made.

Chris sat down beside me, quieter than usual but his brothers don’t seem to notice as they go about their morning banter.

The knock on the door surprised us all. The four of us rarely got up before noon. Why we were today is beyond me but our friends wouldn’t have shown up at this hour either.

We all looked at eachother with confusion before Nick went downstairs to open the door. I heard a brief back and forth but couldn’t make out exactly what was being said. Nick made his way back up the stairs and two cops followed him. My stomach dropped.

I stood up out of my seat, instinctively putting myself in front of Chris. “Christopher Sturniolo?” The larger officer said.

“Yeah?” Chris asked, stepping out from behind me. Nick, Matt and I all held our breath.

“You’re under arrest for the assault and battery of a Mr. Cameron Jacobs.”

“What?!” My voice came out as a squeak. “Assault and battery?! It wasn’t Chris! You’re mistaken.”

“Christopher Sturniolo. The Youtuber? We’re well aware of who he is.” The cop said. Chris stepped forward and the second cop pulled out his handcuffs. I couldn’t believe Chris was just submitting to this. “There have been videos uploaded among various social media platforms of the assault.”

I was at a loss for words. Chris and I had been in trouble before but never charged with something like this.

“Well, we can just bail him out right?” Matt asked.

“Bond won’t be set until Monday morning after he sees the judge. Until then, he will remain in custody.”

I watched as Chris put his hands behind his back. Still in his wife beater and pajama pants he wore to bed. He bit his lip and looked at me with remorseful eyes but remained quiet. I could feel tears welling up in my own eyes. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh,” He hummed into my neck, unable to hug me back. “I love you.” He mumbled before the piece of shit cop pulled him away from me.

The other cop handed Nick his card and I watched as they manhandled Chris down the stairs and out the door. It was like the world was moving in slow motion. My best friend was just ripped away from me in a matter of minutes and I felt so lost, like a part of me was missing.

I palmed my face, wiping the tears away from my eyes before I fished for my phone in my pocket. I opened Instagram and searched Chris Sturniolo. The video from last night was all that came up. I clicked on the first one and watched it. I saw myself leaning on Madi’s shoulder in the background, unaware of the events taking place. I saw Chris snapping and wailing on the dude I almost went home with.

A sob escaped my lips. I was so grateful to Chris for getting me out of that situation but it landed him in jail. If I wasn’t such a mess he wouldn’t fucking be there…

“Okay, so I have some money saved up. I think first thing Monday morning we should-”

“Y/n enough!” Matt yelled. I stopped talking and looked at him with confusion.

“What do you mean? We have to get him out…”

“Yeah! We-” He said, motioning to himself and Nick. “do need to get him out. We need to call our parents. We need to figure out a plan.”

“Matt…” Nick started.

“No! I’m sick of all the shit she drags Chris into!” Matt said before taking a few steps towards me. “All you do is cause him problems. Put him in situations he doesn’t want to be in because he feels like he has to take care of you. You’re the reason Chris did drugs. You’re the reason Chris snuck out. You’re the reason Chris fucked up! He would be so much better off without you! And now look what you’ve done?! He’s in fucking jail cuz you wanted to be a slut!”

I slapped Matt hard across the face. I didn’t mean to. It was just a reaction. He took a deep breath, as did I. He turned to look at me, his blue eyes staring daggers into mine. “Get out.” He said.

I bit back tears and turned on my heel, running down the steps and out the front door to my car. As soon as I was locked inside my car a screamed at the top of my lungs. Letting every single emotion out. I thought they were my friends. I grew up with them. They were like brothers to me. If Matt and Nick felt this way then Chris probably did too. I’ve overstayed my welcome in their lives…

I started my car and sped off down the street. I drove the ten minutes to my apartment complex. It was nowhere near as nice as the Triplets but it worked for me.

I made my way up the stairs, ready to drown myself in a bottle of vodka and rot on my couch but I ran into Danny on my way up.

“Princessss,” He dragged on. “What’s got you so upset?”

That fucking nickname made my blood boil.

“Fuck off, Danny.” I said, walking past him.

“The Sturniolo kid again?” He chuckled, taking a long drag of his cigarette. I swallowed. Just thinking of Chris made me sick. “Ya know those pretty boys will always break your heart, honey.”

“You’re a loser, Danny.” I said before heading up the steps once again.

“I have some product! If you’re interested!”

I paused again. I swore to Chris I’d never use hard shit again. But did Chris really care? With the way his brothers treated me today, it couldn’t have come from nowhere. I grew up with them and rarely had an issue. But if his brothers hated me that much then maybe Chris did too…

It doesn’t take a whole army to convince an addict to go back. The war you fight is in your mind and when you have no soldiers on your side, joining the enemy may be the best choice.

So here I sit, with a needle full of heroin pumped into my bloodstream, feeling the best I’ve felt in years.

Chris who?

Tags: @strniohoeee @daisysturniolo. @justangelheree @flowerxbunnie @recklesssturniolo @lustfulslxt @mangosrar @bluesturniolo333 @christinarowie332 @kenzieiskoolaid @sturniolopepsi @mattenthusiast @ilovecrazymen @sturnphilia @poopydroopt

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #siren says #love siren #stardust

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brighteyedbushybrowed · 8 months

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okay I’m hoping this makes sense, the papa witht a s/o that is scared of sleeping, like sleeping makes them super anxious and it’s hard for them to sleep comfortably

It makes sense anon, dw!! I've been in that position before, so I will somewhat be writing from my own experience for these headcanons <3

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

Primo gets this completely, and he's incredibly patient and kind

He makes you cups of herbal team to help calm your nerves

Will stay awake with you until you doze off

Stays by your side the whole time so that he's there for you if you wake up in a panic

He'll reassure you and try to help you rationalise anything that's playing on your mind and making you feel anxious

Primo also has a supply of the most comfortable pillows and blankets he keeps in a cupboard for whenever you wish to stay over in his room

If he's particularly worried about you and your lack of sleep, he'll suggest going to the doctor's or a therapist with you to help with your anxiety around sleep

Always has fresh lavender in his room as he knows it can be a very relaxing, calming scent that helps people sleep easier

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

Also a tea man

As someone who could sleep through a hurricane, Secondo perhaps doesn't understand as much as Primo does

Don't get me wrong, he does understand. Just not to the extent that Primo does because of how heavy he sleeps and having never had difficulty sleeping at night

He does, of course, support you through it and has learned various grounding techniques for when your anxiety starts to spike at bedtime

He keeps a dossette box of sleeping pills in his en suite bathroom for nights where other methods of getting you to sleep don't work, but he only uses these as a last resort when literally nothing else works

Secondo will also stay awake with you until you drift off. He makes sure that he holds you the whole time, even if it results in him sleeping in waht others would consider uncomfortable positions such as sitting up against a headboard

While Primo is a lavender guy, Secondo is a scented candle guy

He gets a shit ton of scented candles of your favourite scents and will light them while you both do your bedtime routine so that you have a calming scent to focus on

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

Terzo is the first person to tell you that you need to talk about your anxiety with a professional

He'll get you in touch with one of the therapists from the Ministry, he'll even pay for you to go to the best therapist in town if you'd prefer not to talk to someone who works in the abbey

He's going to be there with you all the way

He'll help you rationalise your anxious thoughts and worries surrounding going to sleep and even encourages you to keep a sleep diary

He might also encourage you to try and sleep by downloading Pokemon Sleep onto your phones so that it's like you're getting rewarded for sleeping

He's all cuddles and cooing and soothing words if you get upset at the prospect of sleeping

He's going to stay awake as long as possible even after you fall asleep in case you wake up in the night and need him to comfort you

He'll position you so that you're laying on top of him when you sleep, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he softly sings lullabies and songs to remind you that he's there, he's not going anywhere, and he loves you deeply

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

You and Copia are kindred spirits in these regards

He's no stranger to fitful nights of tossing and turning, being too scared to fall asleep in case the nightmares return and haunt him once again

Talking you through your own anxiety around sleep is what makes him realise that he needs help too and that he can't be giving you all of this advice if he doesn't take it himself

Will attend therapy with you

Talks about his own experiences and anxiety and fears so that you don't feel like you're going through this on your own

On those nights where neither of you can sleep, he invites Aether for a sleepover so that he can use his quintessence powers to give you both a dreamless sleep for the night

Copia probably has a giant tub full of various herbal teas Primo has given him to help with sleep that he's never used until you came along

You both often have nighttime video game marathons on the nights where you can't sleep and don't want to bother Ather. You both end up waking the next morning with the game over screen flashing at you, game controllers abandoned on the blankets, and your bodies intertwined

#primo #papa emeritus i #secondo #papa emeritus ii #terzo #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost #headcanons #headcanon requests

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tacogoats · 4 months

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I'm a big whore for the durgetash dynamic that kinda mirrors an astarion/durge one; where Gortash has to look at this strange person wearing their lover's face with another man - offering the same softened words they would for him on his own nightmare-ridden nights. The same gentle touch that he needed on those tear-laden days where he really wondered if they could even pull all they had wanted to off. Tenderness once only reserved for him after all he had been through in the House of Hope.

It infuriates him. He is jealous. That was for him.

But also it elates him because deep down they are still them afterall.

I really adore the 'they're going to kill each other with their fucked up idea of love they dance around constantly that is Not Normal People Love' flavour but the 'actually they really did have tender moments and sat around genuinely doting on one another' is somewhat spicier considering just who it is. You have two absolutely heinous, garbage people who genuinely, tenderly love and treasure each other.

Dark Urge is fiercely protective of Gortash and vice versa - they bring out the humanity in one another despite being Chosen of evil Gods. Gortash has night terrors after the days of being raised in the House of Hope; he fears that one day he will be whisked away and thrust back into that nightmare - the Dark Urge struggles with sleep anyway, and is always there when Gortash wakes to comfort him.

The Urge despises the loss of control and how they have been a slave to their father's cursed bloodlust - but Gortash is there once the rage subsides, a soothing voice and soft touch against their quaking, bloodsoaked hands.

In my own canon for my Dark Urge Veren, I had wanted the team-up to go a bit differently for Gortash. While he still definitely does die at the Netherbrain (rip bozo), Veren demands Gortash stay at camp with the rest of them partly because he needs to know his past and getting close to the man is the only way, but he also phrases it as them sticking close means Orin will have a harder time picking them off.

Gortash agrees but witnesses the other vampire spawn attack to abduct Astarion - and while Veren does rush to check on Gortash, his priority is always Astarion.

They compliment each other in battle. Just like he and Gortash did once. They move in tandem, they make up for each other's weaknesses, and Veren rages the moment Astarion takes a hit.

It pisses him off and he almost calls it off then and there until Veren rushes over and shows him genuine fear for his safety once the threat is over.

And then it clicks - his Veren is still in there and he will get him back by any means necessary.

(Unfortunately it doesn't work out for Gortash! Oops.)

#durgetash #im ill sorry #bg3 dark urge/gortash #dark urge x gortash #durge x gortash #rubbing my gay lil hands together cackling as i torture the blorbos #my headcanons #bg3 headcanons

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intoxicated-chan · 1 year

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Worthy

♡o。.✿ฺ Paring // Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

♡o。.✿ฺ Summary // Simon questions everything about you, was he really worthy of someone like you?

♡o。.✿ฺ (A/n) // I didn’t proofread so be prepared for mistakes. Also Part 2 of Welcome Home Surprise is being written as well as Each Other’s Other. I’m just not sure when it will be ready for you guys. As usually, COD requests are open.

♡o。.✿ฺ Word Count // 1.3k

♡o。.✿ฺ Content Warnings // Gender neutral reader, heavy angst, OOC GHOST, nightmares, profanity, pet names (love)...

There were many things that Simon “Ghost” Riley thought he was never worthy of. His number one being someone like you. Always there with him in the good and the awful, it pains him that you allow him to push and shut you out, but his thoughts were at ease when you cupped his face, staring right into his heartless eyes and spoke the words he thought no one would ever want to say to someone like him.

Each day, each time he wakes up before you, and before he could open his eyes, he wouldn’t blame you if he found you gone. After all, who would want to stay with a guy with a shit ton of baggage.

Trauma stacked on top of more trauma without a single break to allow him to fix himself. Yet when you arrived, you slowly picked up the shattered pieces and attempted to fix what was left of Simon Riley, an attempt to allow him to have a somewhat peaceful life outside of his trauma. He knew your goal was impossible, Simon wasn’t going to change, Simon wasn’t going to be the man there for your ugly or the sad, but you were there for him and never expected him to do the same.

His nightmares that plague him and that make it impossible to enjoy sleep, yet you’re wide awake and already soothing him, you’re careful to not touch him so quickly and you make sure he knows you’re there. You stay when he panics as he believes you’re an enemy, you don’t become afraid of him, you just hope he’s okay.

Those days of being without you don’t pain him, mainly because he believes he shouldn’t be around you in the first place. He knows you get looks for being with him in public, your parents’ opinion of him, everyone’s thoughts…

Simon hates it, oh he fucking hates it. He should be proud, happy, or the usual emotions someone would feel with someone like you. But how would he know? Was it those late night drives after another argument? Or after you receive the silent treatment as a way to make you leave for good?

It was the same results every time. You waited for Simon to speak, waited for him to collect his thoughts. You always believed that Simon was good, he just had a difficult way of showing himself. He wasn’t just going to be vulnerable, he wasn’t going to bear everything right away.

And you waited, and waited, and waited…

He tried to make those painful nights something pleasurable for him, breakfast in bed, hiking together, watching a movie together… But those days where you fell asleep in his arms, he’d ask, how was he worthy of someone like you? Why do you stay after everything? It was like his mind was on repeat, months would be so perfect and all of a sudden he’s plagued with worry.

Again you let him push you away, again you let him shut you out, and again you let him not speak and leave during the middle of the night for another drive. What broke his heart was the smile you gave him even when you felt like crying, you muttered, “Please be safe, I love you.” You continued to let yourself be heartbroken, and you continued to hope for those unreturned I love you too’s.

You couldn’t push a person like Simon and at the same time, he never liked being treated like glass. You tried to be careful and hope that he was getting enough space from someone as overbearing as you.

It was another empty bed tonight, you replaced your shirt with one of Simon’s black hoodies, and you were ready for bed. But you couldn’t help yourself this time, you cried, sobbed into the pillow silently while begging for his return. The argument left you both feeling like shit, but it was worse than the others.

You held onto the pillow, finally letting yourself fall asleep after hours of crying. But what you did know was that Simon was going to return but not to the bed, rather fancying the couch on nights like these.

Simon let out a heavy sigh as he turned off the engine, he looked at the door, then to his steering wheel. How long was this pattern going to continue? How long will this pain go on for? How long will he leave you crying?

He slowly walked into the freezing house, slightly surprised to not find you waiting for him. He found you in the shared bedroom, he could tell you were crying, he didn’t need to see your tear stained face. Simon carefully sat next to you, he knew you felt the bed dip and you tried not to notice it. A large hand placed on your shoulder and you went back to sleep.

Simon knew he couldn’t give you what other guys can, he lives with his life redtracted, barely leaving a trace. He knew you deserved to be out in the open and not chained down to a very simple life just for a man like him. He was the one being difficult, so might as well make it easier on you.

You watched as Simon tied his shoes, dressed in his uniform and a bag slung over your shoulder.

“Be safe.” He heard you speak, “And I… I hope you come back, I love you.” The amount of times Simon wanted you to stop saying those words, the words that made him weak…

He didn’t return those and with his usual comment, “I’m off.” He leaves, and leaves you standing there sadly. No hug, no kiss, not even taking a look at you.

Why don’t you take those words back, shout at him for being a fool, and letting him know how much pain he’s been putting you through. But Simon has his own problems, he doesn’t need to be bothered with your silly feelings.

You sat at the table, hands shaking, eyes becoming blurry as you felt the hot tears falling down. It wasn’t new to you at this point, it was becoming a routine, nothing special, like how you weren’t special to Simon anymore.

Would things have been different if you spoke out your first worries to him, would he have tried to at least try? Or was it you? You put in the work for a relationship that he’s clearly backing out of.

Days, weeks, months passed without a single word from Simon until his supposed return was replaced with a letter addressed to you, titles his forever love. No, you shouldn’t cling onto false hope just because he finally called you love.

Slowly you opened the letter and started to read.

My forever love,

I thought how things could have been different, those nights I left you alone to cry in our bed. I could never forgive myself for hurting you so much. You took good care of me and gave me more than what I could offer, you were there when I was ready to shut down, there for me for the nightmares, yet you allowed me to give nothing in return to help you. I should have appreciated you more and I see that now, but the best course of action would be to let you go. As much as this relationship makes us happy, it hurts you at the same time. Don’t do this to yourself (Y/n), don’t continue to hurt yourself.

From Simon Riley

Even after days of no response from you, he decided to return home. But this time, there was no you waiting to greet him, no you sleeping in your shared bed, there was no you.

Was Simon Riley worthy of anything?

#x reader #cod mw #cod mw22 #cod modern warfare #x gender neutral reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod angst

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jisung-shine · 9 months

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hope your healthy! could you do a fic about what nct dream would do if you had nightmares?

Anon, I hope you like this! And I hope if you're having nightmares, that they go away. Remember, they aren't your reality and I promise you you are safe and loved here! Stay safe.

This request was so wholesome and fun to write! Enjoy!

Mark ♫꒰･‿･๑꒱

Okay so

If you woke up from a nightmare

Whether it’s a recurring nightmare or a random one

If Mark was by your side, he would definitely comfort you

He would probably wrap you in his arms and shush you gently

Stroking your hair and reassuring you over and over again that it’s not real and that you’re safe in his arms

“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay”

Would keep the soft light from a lamp on if it would help you

Mark would definitely just try to make you feel as warm and safe as possible

And run his fingers through your hair to soothe you

Mark wouldn’t fall back asleep until he knew you had drifted back into a peaceful slumber

Renjun (⌐■_■)

So Renjun

I feel like he would have a more logical take on comfort

If that makes sense

If you had nightmares he would definitely first and foremost get up

Go to the kitchen

And make you a nice warm mug of hot chocolate to ease your worries

Then he would prop you up with a pillow, wrap you in a blanket

And ask you about the nightmare

Picture Renjun just sitting across from you on the bed, cross legged

“It’s okay, I’m here. Tell me everything.”

And after you finished explaining it to him, he would just

Hold you gently against his chest

And stay awake with you as long as you need

I love Renjun

Jeno (.◜◡◝)

Jeno

Is a heavy sleeper

Again the source? Trust me bro

Anyways so I think if you want comfort from Jeno

My dude you’re gonna have to SHAKE THIS MAN

Shake him

Don’t be shy

Once Jeno is awake though

He will ask you what’s wrong, immediately caging you into a safe little (muscular) cocoon and giving you a doe-eyed intense stare as you told him about your nightmares

He would get you a glass of water (stay hydrated)

And help you clear your head

I think he would give you his hoodie to wear

“Here. Focus on the smell of that, which is real, and not on the bad dreams, which aren’t, yeah?”

And he would let you sleep in his room for as long as you’d like to

Haechan ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Haechan

When it really comes down to it, he’s a sweetie

A loud boi

A mischievous gremlin

But when it comes to his special person

He will do ANYTHING

So when you wake up one night and tell Haechan you’re having nightmares

He would not hesitate to squish you into him

“WHAT’S WRONG Y/N? DO I NEED TO HURT SOMEONE?”

Covers you in kisses

Literally just kisses the tears away if you’re crying

And he cups your face in his hands

Haechan just gets intensely worried when you have nightmares

He gets you a stuffed animal and lays beside you

Cuddling you and staring directly into your eyes

Whispering encouraging words until you feel better <3

Jaemin(◑‿◐)

Mr. Na Jaemin

Certified rizz master of nct dream

Anyways so Jaemin-

It would be the middle of the night

And you wake up from your nightmare

And Jaemin is already staring at you

Which is kind of scary at first

But he explains he heard you whimpering and tossing and turning

And the Nana Instincts kicked in, waking him up to make sure you were okay

Jaemin would immediately pull you in close

Cupping your face in his hands and whispering softly

“It’s okay, my y/n, I’m right here. You’re safe.”

He would make sure you both were covered with a soft blanket

And would listen to any worries you had in that moment

Running his thumb across your cheek and nuzzling up to you

He’s a real sweetie

Chenle ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ

So we all know Chenle is fiercely loyal

But also would beat your ass if you woke him up while he was sleeping

I feel like Chenle would initially be a little grumpy if you wake him up after you have a nightmare

But once his mind clears and he realizes you’re scared

Mr Protective comes to the rescue

Chenle would bolt upright, flicking on the lamp and pulling you against his chest

“What’s wrong? It better be something serious, it’s four in the morning…I’m kidding, are you okay love?”

Mixes in teasing with seriousness

Would joke around to lighten the mood

But would genuinely listen to you when you tell him about the nightmares

Protective Lele !!!

Chenle would definitely baby you

Holding you and even swaying you softly to calm your nerves

Running his hands up and down your arms as you shiver from fear

Chenle makes sure you know he’s there to protect you

And maybe he will let you hold Daegal to feel better

Jisung(┳◡┳)

Jisung is a little awkward sometimes

So when it comes to comfort, he would try his best

Wouldn’t be your conventional comfort, like some of the other members

When you wake up from nightmares, Jisung’s first instinct is to ask if you want some instant ramen

“The warm noodles and soup might calm you down!!”

And honestly, he might be onto something

Jisung would whip up a batch of ramen, spoon feeding it to you as you confide in him about the nightmares you’ve been having

He would also put on some soft music in the background, no matter what time of night it is

Then cuddle you against his chest, bellies full of warm food

Jisung would kiss your cheek, telling you that nightmares are normal and aren’t your reality

Another one to lend you his hoodie

Jisung would let you surround yourself with blankets, pillows, and his touch

Softly telling you random things about his day and his thoughts to help you feel better

#nct #nct dream fluff #nct dream #chenle #zhong chenle #lee jeno #huang renjun #jeno #nct dream reactions #park jisung #nct reactions #renjun #jaemin #mark lee #request #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #haechan

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

ahhh your headcannons are so amazing would you be down to do more? maybe one focusing on red and joels relationship developing in jackson?

also did you ever explain why joel and ellie call her red. or did i just miss it?

Joel wasn't paying attention when Ellie named her those first few days. He was too busy trying to ignore her completely and then was too stubborn to ask. (You may get the reason why in the next story I post).

Here's some more headcanons:

They both don't know how to navigate life in Jackson. Which means they default to continuing what they were doing before and not talk about it

That first night in the house, after bringing Ellie home and that conversation on the hilltop, everything felt stiff. The teenager was still quiet while Joel did his best to get her to open up. She took up residence in the room she stayed in last time while Joel took the other. Red didn't know where she was suppose to go and decided to just take the first floor bedroom

Skin clean from showering, food in her belly, the room felt cold and alone no matter how much she arranged it to make herself feel comfortable.

She woke to the sound of her door opening and then a curse as whoever it was stepped on the random junk she had put in front of it as a makeshift alarm. Joel glared at her, huffed, then told her to get her ass upstairs. So she did, both of them knocking out quickly next to each other.

Ellie eased up a bit more after time, which meant they both breathed a little easier.

It was a few days after settling in that Joel slid the hand on her stomach to under her shirt as they lay in bed. It was like lighting a bonfire. For the first time since they started whatever relationship they were in, he saw her completely naked and mapped out every scar, freckle, and mark on her body. They didn't sleep at all that night.

Both of them are not good at relationships.

Joel hadn't been in a real one since Sarah's mom and as important as Tess was and as long as they were together, he'd put up a wall emotionally between them. Could never give her what she wanted.

Red hadn't been with anyone really since Harry years before in the early days of the outbreak. He was her high school sweetheart and the only man she had been with for years into her 20's until she shot his face off years later.

They don't confront what they are.

But Joel doesn't like the eyes of the men on her or the way he overhears some wondering if she was wild in the sheets too. Talking about taming her. He almost breaks one of their jaws. Tommy has to come up with an excuse for him.

Red finds that settlement life has brought something up she hadn't had to deal with in a long time. Insecurity. She's not young anymore and her appearance wasn't a necessity when you're surviving. Is aware of the differences between her and the other women. Add in her protectiveness of her people and it made her hyper aware how the women in town looked at Joel.

No one considered her more than his partner in a non-romantic sense. The person Joel was taking care of. It rankled her but she couldn't argue against it, couldn't exactly claim him in front of them all. Because she didn't know if he was hers.

Joel however, didn't think it needed explaining that she was his. His what exactly, he wasn't sure. But somehow it all had morphed beyond needs and sex and survival. Girlfriend and partner seemed contrived in comparison. Red was just...his.

Her abrasiveness made the gentle moments all the better. He liked seeing her relaxed and laid out in the sun, body loose. Loved the way her eyes became bright with life anytime music was brought up. The gentle smile and soothing hands when he would wake up from a nightmare, urging him to breathe.

The first time she smiled and laughed at him, not Ellie, he was stunned and may have blushed. She looked like a completely different person and if he could drink the sound of her laughter and joy, he'd be drunk on it every day.

There were some mornings when she slept in later than him and he took the time to count the small stars tattooed on her collarbone and watching her breathe.

It takes months before she shares the cassette tape in her bag. She hands it over to him like she's handing over her first born child. And then she leaves, saying they can give it back when they're finished. He borrows a cassette radio and him and Ellie listen to the mixtape her sister made for her.

When they hear her sing on that tape, the last song on the tape her sister had secretly recorded one band practice, Joel had to clench his teeth and close his eyes at the sudden feeling of wanting to sob for some reason. Because the young girl's voice was full of sunshine and laughter and god, she had been so good and then the apocalypse robbed her of all of that. He can hear hints of his Red in that tape and it feels like they're mourning a loved one. Ellie discreetly wiped away tears.

Tommy sometimes asks what her real name is. Joel didn't know it and told him so and his brother seemed baffled at the notion that he didn't even know the name of the woman he was with. But she did have a name and it was Red or Starshine or Darling.

They don't know her birthday until one day he finds her in the small wildflower covered hill outside the harvest field. There are no cakes, no parties, nothing but her and the flowers and the whispered confession that her family never celebrated birthdays, but her sister would come into her room every morning and surprise her with something if only to celebrate in some way. He sat behind her, legs on either side, and held her before confessing that his birthday was Outbreak day and the day Sarah died.

Ellie's birthday is the only one they plan on celebrating.

She traced her name into his palm one day, but he never speaks it out loud.

When they argue, Ellie knows to take cover in her room. Joel can get loud, uses his height and stature to get his way, but she's used to being smaller. Knows how to stab with words and snap her teeth and not back down. They're both so stubborn and rarely does either of them win.

The makeup sex usually lasts all night

When Maria gives birth, Joel finds the pain of seeing another baby isn't as bad as he thought. That natural part of him kicks back in when he holds the baby boy, smiling softly at the newest member of the Miller family.

Red stays in the doorway, watching them all. She looked a second away from bolting. She doesn't hold the baby.

Sometimes wild animals kill their young. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes accidentally. She's not taking any risks.

He comes home a few times and finds her on the couch, one of the older kennel dogs curled into her on the couch and her arm around it. He's old and has been taken off duty which meant the patrols don't care about him. The cold has been hard on the old dog.

She stays in the kennels for almost a whole week when the dog dies from old age, tucked away with the other pups, and he has to carry her back home.

There are moments of seeing the girl she used to be. When they get drunk in the house, Ellie staying over with Tommy to help them with the baby, he manages to make her laugh and even persuades her to dance with him. She has a hard time being gentle but she becomes liquid in his hands, bashful and pink cheeked and a grin so bright it could rival the stars.

She is two different people but he finds he loves both. The girl before whose name was written into his skin late at night and the woman after with sharp teeth and narrowed eyes who Ellie had named in the forest.

#asks #anon asks #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #raicodoll writes #series: feral #feral reader #these two live in my head all the time #I could list alllllll the things for them #but also trying not to spoil future stories

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thruheavenandhighwater · 7 months

Text

Nightmares

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Reader

Word Count: 2,333

Summary: Eddie comforts you after a nightmare of an abusive past relationship wakes you in the middle of the night.

Content Warning: Trauma, nightmares, mentions of past abuse (SA specifically), Eddie lowkey threatening someone who hurt reader in their past.

This is based 100% on my own nightmare last night. The nightmare portion of this fic is like 95% exactly what happened in my own dream. All I wanted was someone to hold me and make me feel safe and cared for. I didn't have that, so I wrote this instead.

He was yelling again. Unintelligible on the other side of the bedroom door, but he was definitely yelling. Fear gripped you- an ice cold hand like a vice around your chest. His voice is cut off by the slamming of the front door and you beg your heart to stop beating like a kick drum against your ribcage. You will the tears to stay behind your eyelids. The bed you're in is suffocating. The sheets and blankets you'd chosen only months before have now seen you at your worst more often than not. You're disgusted by the bluish green sort of color. You'd chosen them in hopes of happier times. You'd been mistaken.

The moment you heard his car start up outside, you held your breath. Listening. Waiting. Finally, mercifully, you hear the sound of snow crunching beneath tires due for a rotation. You hear the car backing out of its assigned spot just outside the window of your apartment. Your ears strain to follow it as it stops at the entrance before turning left. You follow the sound until eventually it blends in with the rest of the noise of a college town in the middle of the night. He's gone. You have no way of knowing for how long, but for now he's gone.

You pull back the edge of the curtain just enough. You confirm what you'd heard, that his car is gone. That you're safe even if it is for just a moment. He's gone. You pull yourself away from the bed sheets that feel irreparably soiled and redress in the pajamas you'd pulled from the dryer just a few hours ago. Opening the bedroom door feels more like walking into a warzone than into your own living room. Something brushes against your leg. Something small. Black and white fur, a purr vibrating against your shin.

Luci.

Sweet Lucifur. Your little angel. Your sweet boy. The only good thing in the small apartment you shared with the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. You reach down, hands under his butt and his belly as you gather him up, holding him to your chest. He rests his head on your shoulder. You swear it's like he knows what happens behind that closed bedroom door. Like he knows you're hurting in so many ways. Like he knows that he has the power to make you feel a little better just by existing. He allows you to hold him, crying into his fur as his purr soothes your heavy heart.

Something clicks. Something tells you, finally, that you can leave. That you can go somewhere else. Somewhere that you can be safe for more than a few fleeting moments. You press a kiss to the top of Luci's head before setting him on the couch.

Your hands shake, more tears falling to your cheeks as you make your way through the apartment. You need to pack. You need some clothes and some money and something to carry Luci in. In the living room is a small metal cage. The former home of the hamster he'd gotten you for your birthday two years ago. When he was still pretending to care. Pretending to be what you had always hoped he would be. You could have sworn you'd thrown that cage away. But there it was, tucked beside the TV stand like a beacon. An option, though you know it's not a good one.

Random pieces of clothing are thrown into a bag. You toss your wallet on top of the heap before lugging it over your shoulder. It's heavier than it looks. You spare a glance through the window over the sink. When did it start snowing again? And why is it coming down so heavy? Fat, white flakes fall gently, coating every visible surface. You see your own car in the lot, right beside the empty space that his usually occupies.

He's still gone. You're still safe. You still have to leave. Opening the closet to retrieve your coat, you're met by something you'd all but forgotten about. There on the floor is the small, black cat carrier. Picked up for a buck at a garage sale shortly after Luci had come into your life. A ray of sunshine right there in your hallway closet. You quickly put Luci into the carrier. You tell him it's going to be okay. That you're going somewhere good. Somewhere better. Somewhere safe.

You hear them suddenly. Footsteps coming down the hall. It's the middle of the night. There's nobody else it could be. Fear settles into your bones once again as you watch the handle of the front door turn-

Your eyes opened almost painfully wide. You feel sweat covering every inch of your body. A deep, gasped breath settles in your lungs as you take in your surroundings. It was dark, but you could see. You see your bedside table, alarm clock with angry red numbers announcing that it was nearly 4 in the morning. The book you'd started two days ago. A framed photo. Eddie's smiling face right beside yours, his chin resting on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your stomach from behind you.

Eddie.

You felt those same arms wrapped around you now. Only this time, they weren't pulling you into him like they'd been in the moment that Jonathan snapped that photo last summer. No, now it was more like they were there by muscle memory alone. Loosely draped over you as soft snores fell from the slightly parted lips of the man they belonged to.

It was a dream. Just a dream. You were safe. You were in your own home with Eddie. You were safe. Eddie would never do the things the other man had done to you. He'd never touch you the way that he did. He'd never yell at you or slam doors or do anything to make you feel that kind of fear that seemed to overtake every other emotion. He would never. You knew that. But knowing those things couldn't stop the way your heart was beating too fast in your chest. It didn't stop you from feeling like you were going to cry. Like you needed to be out of this bed immediately.

You moved as slowly as you possibly could, pulling yourself away from Eddie. Usually his embrace was welcomed. Craved, even. But right now, moments after waking from a nightmare about a situation that was supposed to be nearly a decade in the past, it felt wrong.

Luci greeted you in the living room. He'd been roused from his own sleep by your footsteps down the hallway. He rubbed his side against your leg the same way he had in your dream and you felt tears begin to prickle against the back of your eyes. You reached down to scratch his furry head for just a moment. You couldn't help but smile to yourself when his little eyes fell closed as he pressed further into your touch.

You shrugged into a flannel of Eddie's. He'd worn it a few days ago, but it had been tossed on the couch and more or less forgotten ever since. You pulled it tighter around your body as you stepped out the front door of your home. The seasons were well on their way to changing. Warm summer nights had officially given way to chilly September nights. The fireflies were gone. Nobody was out doing clandestine bonfires at 4 am. It was just you and your thoughts as a cool wind blew around you. Eddie's cigarettes sat on the small table on the porch. You settled into the chilled cushion of the loveseat style seat and pulled a cigarette from the pack, thankful that he left them outside when you realized you hadn't grabbed your own.

You don't even know how long you sat outside, the dream replaying on a loop in your mind as the cigarette burned down to the filter. It was strange, to say the least. That entire situation was supposed to be in your past. It wasn't supposed to creep up on you like this. You hadn't dreamt about it for years. But it all felt so real. So fresh. So terrifying. You pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray on the table and took a deep breath. You rested your elbows on your knees, doubling over as your face fell to your hands. You wanted to cry. To purge the bad dream from your mind. But you couldn't. The tears just wouldn't come.

You heard movement inside the house. You knew it wasn't Luci. He was too quiet, too small to make the amount of noise you heard. You kept your face buried in your hands as Eddie slowly opened the front door. You heard the bottom of his slippers against the porch as he pulled the door closed behind him.

"'S goin' on?" He asked, voice gravely and deep. You finally pulled your head from your hands to look at him. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips. His favorite grey sweatshirt thrown over his chest. His dark curls, undoubtedly unruly from sleep, were contained beneath the back of the neck of the sweatshirt as he rubbed his left eye with a tired hand.

"Bad dream," you admitted quietly.

Eddie nodded and stepped towards you. He fell into the seat next to you, his arm over the back of it. You scooted closer to him as his arm rested over your shoulders. He held you tightly with one arm, the other hand placing a cigarette between his plush lips.

"Wanna tell me about it?"

You held your breath for a moment. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Why would I get mad?"

"Just… please? Promise me?"

He took a hit from his cigarette. The smoke floated out into the cold air around you as he rested his hand on the arm of the seat. "I promise I won't get mad." He finally answered.

"I dreamed I was with my ex," you told him.

"Which one?" He asked. The name of the man who had hurt you came out almost embarrassingly quietly. Like you were as afraid of his name as you were of him. You felt Eddie tense around you. His arm tightened around your shoulders. He seemed to hold his breath as his chest stilled beneath you. You waited for him to relax before you kept telling him about the dream. You'd told Eddie about him at the beginning of your relationship. Eddie had promised you that day that if he ever got your ex boyfriend alone, he'd make him sorry for what he'd done. He told you he'd make him regret it and you believed him.

"He was screaming at me and I was so scared. Then he just left. He just slammed the door and I swear it sounded exactly like it did when it actually happened. And Luci was there."

He pulled away from you just enough to look down at you. His eyebrows raised in his forehead. "Our Luci? But we got him together."

"Yeah, it was weird. I was going through the old apartment trying to figure out how to leave. I packed up some clothes and put Luci in his carrier and then…" You paused. Stopped, really. The same fear you felt in your dream threatened to swallow you whole again. Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His hand on your shoulder gripped just a little tighter. He told you to keep going when you were ready. That he was here. He was listening. He cared.

"I was trying to leave before he came back and right when I was ready to go he came back. God, it felt so fucking real. The door knob turned and then I woke up. I was all sweaty and shaking and scared. I don't even know why I came out here," you admitted with a wet chuckle.

"Just needed some fresh air."

"Guess so."

You sat in silence with Eddie for a few minutes. He leaned forward, dropping his own cigarette into the ashtray in front of you. He brought that now empty hand up to join the other that was still around your shoulders. He enveloped you completely in a warm, safe embrace.

"I'm sorry you dreamed about that," he told you softly. "It sucks that even now that scummy little creep can still make you feel like this."

"It's not fair," you sniffled into his chest.

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But you know he's gone, right? I swear that as long as I'm around he won't ever get near you again. And I'm sorry to say that you're stuck with me for life, baby."

You looked up at him with a smile. His face was half shadows, a street light in front of your neighbor's house lighting the other half. You could see his own smile, soft and loving.

"'M not stuck," you told him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

You sat outside for a few more minutes. Eddie lit one last cigarette, passing it to you to help calm your nerves before heading back inside. Luci joined you in bed as you snuggled into Eddie's bare chest. His skin warm and comforting. Luci got comfortable pressed into your back. Eddie reached around you to pet his head.

"Me and you are protectors, huh buddy?" He asked as Luci soaked up the attention. "Kick ol' boys sorry ass if he ever tries to come around here."

You smiled as your eyes began to feel heavy. You were able to fall back to sleep, Eddie's arms around you as your darling cat purred behind you. You wouldn't be able to remember your dream when you woke up, but you were sure it was better than the first. You were safe. You were cared for. You were loved.

You were safe. Finally.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddue munson/ reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munsonxreader

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 11 months

Text

Burnin’ Up - Firefighter!Chris AU (Part 17: Bulletproof Vest)

Summary: Following your discovery about your father you begin to close in on yourself leaving Chris stuck on how to help you, give you time or get you to open up?

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Alcohol Abuse! Talk of Shootings! Mention of Homophobic Parent!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 17: Bulletproof Vest

It had been a week since the meeting with your father and you had yet to talk about it. You hadn’t done anything and it was really starting to worry Chris. You had been given emotional leave from your captain so at least Chris didn’t have to worry about that. But despite his best efforts, there was nothing he could do to stop you from closing yourself off to him and the world.

You barely left his bed, either asleep, pretending to be asleep or pretending to watch TV. The only time Chris managed to get you out of bed was when he convinced you to have a bath, him getting in with you, or on the odd occasion he got you to come downstairs to eat. Something else that was really starting to worry him because you barely ate, you spent more time pushing your food around than eating it before saying you were full and excusing yourself.

Chris felt completely lost, and not sure how best to help you. He didn’t want to push you into talking about it until you were ready, he knew you needed time to process everything. He also didn’t want to crowd you and make it feel suffocating so despite the fact that he hated it, he made sure there were times when you were alone.

Even when you were alone or you were just sleeping Chris would find himself leaning against the doorway just watching over you, rubbing his chest when the pain got too much. He’d seen you hurt before, following the RTC and his accident, but neither of them compared to now. The screams of anguish you let out that very first night would haunt him forever, he could barely calm you down all he could do was hold you until you wore yourself out and fell asleep in his arms. He cried himself to sleep that night holding onto you tightly desperately trying to reassure you and protect you.

You’d had more nightmares since, not every time you fell asleep but most. You’d wake up in a blind panic, chest heaving and tears rolling down your face. Chris would hold you and try and soothe you until you fell back asleep. Every time he’d hoped that when you woke back up you’d finally be able to talk about it and every time you just became more and more of a shell of yourself.

Chris was beginning to get desperate, maybe he didn’t know enough to actually help you. He needed someone who knew more about your relationship with your father than he did. So he called Ben, hoping that the years of friendship and partnership would be enough to pull you back to the surface. Maybe a fresh face would help too.

Ben arrived an hour ago, Chris gave him an update on how you were before leading him upstairs to where you were resting. Chris wanted to stay up there with you but if you needed someone else to talk to then he needed to give you that space. So he went back downstairs and tried to kill time, waiting to hopefully see you back to yourself even if it was just by a little bit.

Chris instantly perked up when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. But his shoulders soon dropped in disappointment when he saw it was just Ben.

“How is she?” Chris asked quietly, standing up from the couch as Ben approached.

“Asleep or at least pretending to be to avoid the conversation” Ben sighs shaking his head.

“She didn’t say anything then?” Chris sighs in disappointment, he had really hoped Ben could pull you out of your shell.

Ben shakes his head “Not a single word” he mutters putting his hands on his hips and looking down before letting out a small scoff “I have spent years building her back up after every shitty encounter with that man, comforting, helping and hoping that she’d finally see the light…. I tried everything Chris, every trick I know to get her to talk and nothing worked… I know you don’t want to hear this Chris but I’ve never seen her this bad”

Chris bit his lower lips and nodded “Yeah” he managed to say, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat “Thanks for trying”

“It's okay… I know what it's like to have shitty parents” Ben admits “My mom wasn’t very supportive of me when I came out, I thought I’d never actually speak to her again but Y/N helped and supported me, got me through it so I want to repay the favour”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that” Chris says shaking his head, he’d heard plenty of horror stories from Scott and he knew he was very lucky to have parents as supportive as his.

“It’s okay, it’s getting better now,” Ben says a small smile tugging at his lips “She realised that nothing about me had really changed, I was still the same little boy that she raised”

“I’m glad to hear it and hey my brother and his boyfriend are in the middle of setting up a bowling team, might be something you and Matt are interested in?” Chris offers.

“I’ll pass it on” Ben smiles nodding his head before his smile falters and he looks over his shoulders in the direction of the stairs “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help”

“No it's okay, I’m sure you just being here helped, and look stop by whenever you want I’m sure she’ll love to see you” Chris suggests.

“I will thank you Chris, and oh I know we’re waiting to see whether she wants to hand over all the evidence but nobody should go into her apartment in the meantime, it's technically a crime scene since we don’t know where he got the recordings from,” Ben tells him.

Chris lets out a long sigh nodding his head “Yeah, I already turned off her phone and removed the sim card, leaving it in the laundry closet so it won’t get anything” he sighs.

“Good, and look what I can do is swing by the apartment, grab anything she could need, throw out stuff from the fridge and lock it all down so if and when CSI go in there it’s as preserved as possible” Ben offers.

“That would be great thank you Benny,” Chris says gratefully.

“It’s nothing anything to make sure he goes down for this” Ben promises.

Once Ben was gone Chris made his way upstairs, quietly creeping into the bedroom. He sighed quietly when he saw you, like Ben said you were pretending to sleep. You were doing a good job and anyone else would fall for it, but Chris could tell you weren’t completely relaxed or at peace. So he carefully climbed into bed beside you, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder his arm wrapping around you, fingers weaving with yours.

You didn’t say anything except let out a deep exhale.

You felt horrible. It felt like your mind was full of cotton, your head felt heavy and everything just ached. You had no energy at all, even rolling over in bed felt like a monumental task.

When you did roll over you blinked your eyes open to see Chris facing you in bed already awake. You could see the worry in his eyes and his brows pinched together in sorrowful concern. It was a sight that made you close your eyes unable to see it any longer, it hurt too much to see him like this.

You hear him let out a long sigh before feeling the bed shift as he got out and ready for the day. When you heard the shower turn on your rolled back over and pulled the covers up further to try and block out the rest of the world.

A short while later you felt the covers being pulled back enough to reveal your face and you could see Chris crouching beside you in his uniform “I have to go to work because we’re already short with Jamie still on her honeymoon” he explains gently brushing some hair out of your face “do you want me to leave Dodger here?” he asks.

You give him a small shake of the head, you couldn’t deal with the responsibility of looking after him today. All you wanted was to stay in bed and just sleep and try and forget everything.

“Okay, well my ma will be over soon just to make sure you’re okay so let her know if you need anything” he tells you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before standing back up.

Part of you wanted to nod, another part wanted to tell him not to worry that you’ll be okay on your own. All of you were too tired to do either. So you just closed your eyes and tried to fall back asleep, hoping that maybe when you next woke up it would feel like you actually slept.

Some time must have passed because when you next woke up you spotted Lisa quietly making her way into the room “Hey sweetie, how you feeling?” she asks softly as she walks over.

You don’t answer with the exception of a couple of coughs and a few sniffles. You see her brows furrow in concern as she moves closer and rests the back of her hand against your forehead.

“oh sweetie you’re burning up, do you not feel well?” she asks gently tugging down the covers in an attempt to cool you off.

You couldn’t stop yourself from giving her a small shake of the head. You did feel awful and maybe you were sick but it definitely wasn’t the only cause.

“Okay, well we don’t want you getting any worse so what I’m gonna do is run you a bath with some nice oils to help open everything up and we’ll get you into some fresh clothes and bedding okay?” she tells you gently, brushing some hair off your sweaty forehead.

You give her a weak nod of your head before coughing a couple of times and groaning in pain when you felt how scratchy your throat was.

“I’ll get you some meds too, don’t worry we’ll get you back on top form in no time, I have a feeling you’re a better patient than Chris is,” she says with a playful smirk.

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle because you definitely believed that. You hadn’t seen Chris while he’s been sick but knowing what he’s like when he’s just tired is enough of an indication. His stubbornness comes out in full force while also being incredibly needy.

“That’s what we like to hear” Lisa says smiling softly and it took you a moment to realise she meant your chuckle “I’ll be right back okay?”

She disappeared out of your line of sight, the sound of the bath filling up soon following a few moments later. It wasn’t long until Lisa got you out of bed and left you to relax in the bathtub.

It was probably the best bath you’d ever had, Chris was good at running baths and clearly picked up some tips from his mom, but he hadn’t beaten the master yet. The smell of eucalyptus wafted through the air, opening up your stuffy sinuses and making your head feel less heavy. There were muscle relaxing salts mixed in too to help soothe all the aches you were feeling.

For the first time in days, you actually felt relaxed, you only got out once the water got cold, wrapping a fluffy towel around you. Walking back out into the bedroom you saw that Lisa had completely stripped the bed and opened a window to let in some fresh air. You then spot the pile of clothes she had left out for you, which consisted of fluffy leggings and one of Chris’ hoodies. You lift up the note that she’d left on top of the pile.

I’ve got the meds and everything you need downstairs when you’re ready, a change of scenery will also do you some good x

You let out a long sigh, you didn’t really want to go downstairs but you didn’t really have a choice either. With the bed completely stripped you couldn’t climb back in and bury yourself under the covers. So you got dressed into the clothes she set out for you, breathing in the comforting smell of Chris wishing he was here right now, hating that you wouldn’t see him until tomorrow.

When you made your way downstairs you found Lisa in the living room setting the meds down on the coffee table with a large glass of water “Ah how are you feeling now?” she asks with a kind smile as you shuffled into the living room.

You give her a small shrug of the shoulders as you moved to sit down on the couch, running your hand down your face tiredly as you slumped back, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“well a shrug is better than nothing” she reassures you “Here take some of these to make you feel better, I’ve got some of your favourite movies set up to go for you to watch or sleep to, there’s a blanket if you want it,” she tells you pulling the blanket closer to you “I’m just gonna do some tidying up and make you some chicken noodle soup for later, let me know if you need anything”

“thank you Lisa” you manage to say weakly.

She gives you a sympathetic smile, stepping closer and pressing a motherly kiss to the top of your head “It's nothing sweetie”

For the rest of the day, you spent your time watching movies, periodically falling asleep and eating the snacks Lisa brought you. You’d probably eaten more today than you had in the last few days. It was something you weren’t proud of but you just didn’t have an appetite.

In the evening you were sat on the couch just slowly eating the chicken noodle soup Lisa had made you. She was sat on the opposite end of the couch, occasionally telling you a funny story about Chris or Scott whenever there was an ad break.

You wanted to listen but your mind was just too preoccupied going over old memories of your childhood. Re-analysing them, trying to find the signs and red flags that you had missed.

“Was any of it real?” You asked quietly.

You heard Lisa suck in a sharp breath surprised at your question. You were surprised too, you weren’t exactly sure where it came from, it was out of your mouth before you even registered what you were thinking it. So much so that you didn’t dare look over at her, you didn’t want to see the sorrowful look on her face, the same look everyone wore around you.

“I don’t know…” she finally said “but I think so” That made you instantly look over at her, you hadn’t expected that answer at all. She gives you a soft smile before shifting closer so she could rest her hand on your knee “You know when I told Chris and his siblings the truth about my marriage to their father they all wondered the same thing, whether all those happy times were real or not” she explains softly “and they were real, we were happy despite me and Robert not being together, Robert did speak highly of your father before the accident so just because you now have all this context, it doesn’t change any happy memories you have”

You bite your lower lip trying to stop it from wobbling, you weren’t sure if hearing that made it any better or worse. You wanted to believe there was good in your father and that it wasn’t all some sick manipulative act. But knowing that he could be good made the fact he did what he did hit so much harder. If there was no good in him at least it wouldn’t seem so out of character.

“Hey, hey, hey it's okay, it's okay to cry” Lisa soothes, you hadn’t even realised you were holding back your tears.

“sorry” you whisper shaking your head as you try to wipe away your tears.

“don’t you dare apologise, you have nothing to apologise for” Lisa sighs moving closer to wrap her arms around you “What happened was a horrible and shitty thing and you have every right to be upset, confused, angry what ever it is your feeling” she tells you as she rubs your back soothingly “we’re all here for you when you need it, you’re not going through this alone because there’s so many others that care and love you, so whenever you’re ready to talk whether its to Chris, Benny or me we’ll be right there ready” she promises.

You give her a small nod of your head, you knew talking would help make sense of it all and part of you just wanted to word-vomit everything you were feeling. But you couldn’t. You were physically unable to. Every time you opened your mouth your voice would just disappear, your own body physically stopping you from talking about it. Maybe it was just telling you that you weren’t ready yet, not ready to face it.

“I’m tired” was all you could bring yourself to say, and even then it was barely above a whisper.

Lisa lets out a quiet sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly “Okay” she says “take some meds before you head up and I’ll see you in the morning before Chris gets home”

You give her a quick nod before taking some more meds and heading up to bed. Instead of changing into some of your own pjs you opted to change into one of Chris’ tops. Climbing into bed, facing his side wishing he was here. Instead of falling asleep curled up in a ball, your body was a bit looser with one arm outstretched towards Chris’ side of the bed.

Chris was kicking himself for getting his hopes up. When he arrived back from his 24-hour shift you were still asleep but his mom instantly pulled him aside to catch him up. He felt shitty that he hadn’t noticed you were falling ill on his watch, pissed that he did make you eat more or get out more to fight it off.

His mom assured him that there was nothing he could have done and that you already seemed to be on the mend. The best news he had though was that you had actually talked, not just short responses but you talked about it. his heart did break when he heard what you had asked his mom and the answer she gave, but he was relieved that you were seemingly coming out the other side of it.

As soon as his mom left Chris made his way upstairs to you, careful not to disturb you as he climbed into bed. You were already facing his side of the bed, one arm outstretched your face peaceful as you slept. He gently pulled you closer, smiling to himself when you snuggled in closer to him in your sleep.

“I’m so proud of you” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, he knew you were far too asleep to hear him but he hoped that at least you subconsciously did.

He hoped that when you woke back up that it would be finally time to talk about it. That he, his mom and Benny had done enough to comfort you and create a safe environment for you to open up in.

It never happened though.

You went straight back to how you were before he had to leave you, if anything you were worse. Your eyes looked tired and sunken, you hadn’t lost any weight but you appeared frail. You flat-out refused to talk or get out of bed, the only answers Chris could get from you were small nods or shakes of the head.

It carried on for the next couple of days, and with each day that passed Chris got more and more worried and stressed. He felt so lost, and angry he just wanted to go back to your father, drag him back here and show him the damage he’d caused. Chris doubted that he’d really care though, which would just give Chris more ample reason to punch him square in the jaw.

Chris held out hope though, his mom assured him that you just needed a bit more time and it was all about baby steps. While Chris wanted nothing more than to get the fun-loving, trouble-making version of you back, he told himself he was willing to wait.

In the meantime he kept himself busy, checking in on you and making sure you were okay in between tasks. He made sure the house was as clean and comfortable as possible. Ensuring it was a calm, cosy and safe environment for you.

The sound of shuffling and glass clinking together caught Chris’ attention. He paused in his task just waiting for a moment to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

“babe? Is that you?” he calls out but hears nothing but more clinking of class.

He puts the handful of clothes back in the basket and makes his way back out. He followed the sound out into the living room spotting you stood at the small drinks cart he had in the corner.

“babe, what are you doing?” He asks walking closer.

“Having a drink” you state flatly, not bothering to look over at him as you put the cap back on the bottle of scotch.

“It's the middle of the day” Chris points out as he comes to stand beside you.

“So? It's not like I’ve got anything else to do, I’ve not got work or anything” you scoff grabbing your glass of scotch, one that Chris could clearly see you’d overpoured on.

“I know but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Chris says gently, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt as he reached out to put a hand on your wrist “You’re not in the right headspace” This was the most you’ve spoken to him in the last two weeks but this wasn’t right, he couldn’t let you go down this road.

You let out a venomous scoff “Oh don’t get all hypocritical on me Evans!” You spit “You were the one who brought the scotch after that RTC” you point out.

Chris sighs shaking his head “That was different, we were talking it through” he calmly points out, we weren’t ignoring it and drowning our sorrows he thought.

“There’s nothing to talk about” you argue pulling your arm free, scotch splashing over the side of the glass as you lift it to your lips for a sip.

“Babe please, this isn’t right and you know it” Chris reasons, his fingers itching to take your glass from you.

“I’m a grown-ass adult Chris, I can make my own decisions” you snap taking another large sip “and right now I want a drink”

“I know that but this isn’t going to help, you’ll only make yourself feel worse” Chris says swallowing nervously as you down the rest of your drink.

You take another step back towards the cart muttering “I doubt that” under your breath, making Chris step into your path physically blocking you from the alcohol.

“Y/N stop. One is enough.” Chris states firmly.

“Chris for fuck’s sake move, I’m fine” You curse trying to physically push him out of the way, trying to push past him when you fail to make him move.

“No. You’re not” Chris argues holding his arm out to stop you from stepping around him.

You glare up at him, pure fury in your eyes. Something he hadn’t seen directed at him for a long, long time. His jaw naturally clenched as he reminded himself that you weren’t really angry at him, you were angry at the situation, at your father and this was just the way you were able to express that anger.

“What the fuck is your problem!” You growl up at him.

“My problem is that you’re refusing to talk to me, we need to talk this all through” Chris answers, he was tired of dancing around it, if you had gotten to this stage, he needed to be direct to have any chance of stopping it from getting worse.

“I don’t need to talk it through!” You snap “All I need is a drink!”

“Why? Why do you need to drink?” Chris presses, snatching the glass from your hand.

“Because it makes it stop hurting!” You scream up at him “I just need it to stop! I don’t want it anymore and I just need it to go away” You rant your chest heaving as tears streamed down your face.

Chris’ shoulders drop as he sets the glass down on the side before wrapping his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight hug as you completely broke down. Your entire body was shaking as you sobbed into his chest, weeks’ worth of pain and hurt finally breaking free in one go. Chris just held you, he didn’t tell you that it was okay, and he wasn’t going to lie to you. He just reminded you that he was here and to just let it all out.

“I know it hurts sweetheart, I really do but this isn’t going to stop it,” he tells you when your sobs begin to recede.

“What will then?” You hiccup.

“Talking, not just to me but to a therapist, someone who can help you make sense of it all,” Chris tells you softly, he hears you sigh and shake your head about to protest “I know you said it didn’t work before, but we’ll find you one that does I promise”

“I dunno Chris” you mutter reaching up to wipe the tears from your cheek.

“Please just one session, that’s all I’m asking” Chris reasons his hand moving to cup your cheeks and wipe away the rest of your tears.

“one session?” you say quietly looking up at him doubtfully.

“one session” Chris promises “I can call the therapist I’ve gone to and try and get an emergency appointment, she’s lovely and won’t push you into anything you’re not comfortable with” he suggests.

He watches as you nibble your lips for a moment in thought, your gaze dropping before meeting his again “Okay, I’ll do it” you concede with a small nod of your head.

Chris smiles softly pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head “Thank you” he whispered as he breathed out a sigh of relief, hoping it didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.

You must have noticed though as you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him back tightly “I’m sorry” you muttered shaking your head.

“no, no, no,” Chris says softly as he pulls back enough to look down at you “You have nothing to apologise for, absolutely nothing, we’ll get through this I promise”

Your lips wobble as tears collect in your eyes, Chris was about to apologise and try and stop you from crying but he didn’t get the chance. You reached up, cupped his cheeks and presses a soft barely-there kiss to his lips.

He was so shocked that he barely reacted at all, only just doing so as you pulled away and rested your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around him once more “Thank you Chris” you whispered.

Today was the first time you’d left the house since the meeting with your father, part of you was absolutely terrified, paranoia making you look over your shoulders wondering if a fellow cop was watching you right now, taking your photo. The only thing keeping you grounded was Chris’ hand in yours, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your skin to calm you down.

Walking into the therapist's office you were expecting something stuffy, full of dark woods, bookcases and a long couch you’d have to lie on. But the reception area seemed open and calm, with pictures of nature dotted around on the walls and a lavender scent wafting through the air.

When the therapist called out your name in a soft tone Chris stood up with you, you expected him to come with you but he didn’t “This is something you have to do alone sweetheart but I’ll be out here the whole time if you need me” he promises stepping closer to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” you whisper glancing up at him before turning towards the therapist.

She gives you a warm smile before directing you into her office which was a perfect continuation of the reception area. It was open and calm without feeling sterile, you could see various different chairs dotted around the room ranging from bean bags to hanging chairs.

“sit where you’ll feel most comfortable” the therapist directs gently once she shut the door.

You weren’t entirely sure where to go, nothing was really screaming out at you and sitting in a beanbag while talking about a traumatic event didn’t seem right to you. You were about to go sit in one of the armchairs by the window but hesitated when the fear of someone watching you through it hit you.

“nobody can see in, we have a protective film on the glass that allows us to see out but nobody can see in” the therapist explains, spotting your hesitancy.

“like in interrogation rooms,” you say quietly looking over your shoulder at her.

“yes, but I promise there won’t be any interrogation taking place” she reassures you with a kind smile.

You give her a weak smile in response before moving to sit down in the armchair, looking out at the street below. The therapist then sits down in the chair opposite you, leaning back and resting his hands on his crossed legs.

“make sure you’re comfortable, put your feet up if you want, sit as you would at home” she suggests as you sit practically on the edge of the seat, your arms tucked in close to your body, fingers fiddling in your lap.

“I’m fine” you lie, resisting the urge to pull your knees up to your chest and curl up into a ball.

“okay let's get started then I’m Doctor Sally Levine, you can call me Dr Levine or Sally or just Doc, whatever you feel the most comfortable with” Sally explains “All we’re going to do today is just have a bit of a conversation, find out a bit about each other and see where we are, we don’t have to dive into the deep stuff unless you want to”

You give her a small nod to say that you understand, nibbling on your lower lip nervously. You weren’t sure exactly where to start, were you supposed to ask what her favourite colour was? Where she grew up? Did she expect you to tell her the same?

“how about I start? I’m 42 years old, I moved to the Boston area 10 years ago with my husband and two kids who are both teens now and I mean stereotypical moody teens” she jokes managing to pull a small smile from you “The only time they aren’t moody is when they’re playing with the puppy we recently brought”

“What kind of puppy?” you ask trying not to sound too awkward as you nervously fidgeted with your fingers.

“Golden retriever, basically a ball of fluff” Sally smiles warmly “I hope to bring him here once he’s fully potty trained”

“That would be nice” you admit, your shoulders relaxing slightly at the thought of being able to sit here with a pup in your lap as you talked.

“do you have any pets?” she then asks.

“Dodger, well he’s Chris’ dog really but I love him so much, he feels like family” you explain with a shrug of your shoulders.

“what breed is he?” Sally asks you with a kind smile.

“don’t know he’s a mutt that Chris rescued off the streets, but he’s adorable looks like the Artful Dodger from Oliver and Company and he’s so sweet too he just wants cuddles all the time” You smile softly looking down at your hands as you spoke.

“he sounds lovely,” Sally says with a smile.

For the next half an hour or so you continued to just talk to Sally about yourself, any hobbies you had, anything that didn’t mention your job or your father. You hadn’t even realised how relaxed you had become, completely shifting back into the chair, tucking your feet up beneath you.

“Have you been to therapy before?” Sally asks catching you off guard slightly.

You nibble your lip nervously, studying her for a moment trying to work out whether you wanted to respond to that yet. You barely knew her but you felt safe and secure, nothing was going to leave these four walls unless you wanted it to.

“Once, I saw the occupational therapist after responding to a mass shooting and my partner being killed” you finally answer.

Sally takes a deep breath, nodding her head, something you’d seen so many people do when you’ve told them the same thing “I’m sorry to hear that, that must have been very hard on you” she says gently “How long did you see the therapist?”

“Only did a couple of sessions” you answer honestly.

Sally tilts her head slightly “Why did you stop? Did you not get along with that therapist?” she asks.

“No, no she was lovely, really nice I- I just didn’t think I really needed it,” you say shaking your head, looking back down at your fingers which had started fidgeting again.

“And why’s that?” she asks, her tone gentle, curious but not judgemental.

You take a deep breath as you look out of the window, your mind going back to that time and the conversation that made you stop “My- my father told me so, he said I shouldn’t need therapy” you admit.

Sally nods her head slowly in understanding “What did he suggest instead?”

“Nothing… just to put on your bulletproof vest and move on, same thing as he’s always said when I found something difficult… and I guess it worked…” you tell her unable to look over at meet her gaze.

It was silent for a moment before Sally asked “Have you ever been shot while wearing a bulletproof proof vest?”

You were surprised at the question, your head snapping up to look over at her “No” you answer.

She hums quietly, nodding her head “Because I’ve seen the bruises they can leave, they stop you from getting killed but they don’t stop you from hurting and getting bruises on the inside and if you leave those bruises to fester instead of doing something to heal them, they’ll only get worse” she tells you.

Her words instantly hit deep, and you didn’t miss the metaphor she was trying to make, you swallow a lump of emotion as you realised how true her words were. Every time you had to deal with something shitty you steeled yourself and put on your metaphorical bulletproof vest, but it never stopped you from getting hurt, not really.

“so whenever you’re ready, I think it’s time we took that bulletproof vest off and start healing the bruises underneath,” Sally says gently, leaning forward to pass you a box of tissues.

You accept them, not even realising you had been crying. You took a moment to dab away your tears, taking a deep and shaky breath “I’m ready”

For the rest of the session, you spoke about what happened with your father and why you were seeking therapy. You barely scratched the surface but by the end of your session you felt emotionally raw and drained, but also lighter. Sally had been able to help you find your voice so you could get what you were feeling off your chest, and she never once judged you.

When you stepped out of her office Chris instantly stood up from his chair and made his way over to you. you met him halfway throwing your arms around him and burying your head in his shoulder.

“How you feeling?” he asks quietly, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you.

“Like I’m hungover” you admit with a small sniffle.

Chris’ arms tighten around you slightly as he presses a kiss to your shoulder “That’s normal, I felt the same after my sessions” he reassures you “Do you think it helped?”

You take a deep breath taking a step back so you could look up at him, his hands sliding down your arms to take your hands, thumbs gently stroking the top of your hands “Yeah, yeah it really did” you admit with a gentle nod of your head.

Chris smiles warmly down at you and you knew he was holding back a deep sigh of relief “Good, so shall we go book in a couple more sessions?” he asks, you nodding your head in response “Great and then we’ll head on home, I’ve already got some ice cream for us and we can nurse that hangover together” he promises kissing the top of your head.

“sounds great, thank you Chris for…for everything,” you say with a gentle smile, reaching up onto your tip toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

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farfromstrange · 11 months

Text

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter Seven: Butterfly Effect (Epilogue)

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader

Summary: The morning after you and Michael reunited marks the start of something new, but not without having a proper conversation about what happened and what you both want out of life. Or, you both come to an agreement after dancing around each other for so long and you finally find your way together, all thanks to the Butterfly Effect.

Warnings: Slight angst, SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Word Count: 6k

A/n: The people have decided, so I’m posting it now. This marks the end of this miniseries. It was an honor to write this for you and I am so glad you enjoyed it. Writing for Mikey has become one of my favorite things to do, so while this might be the end of this miniseries, this story is far from over...

Read All Other Parts Here...

Over time, Michael got used to his bed being empty in the morning. He grew accustomed to loneliness. Waking up in someone else’s bed and not alone, at that, is not something he planned to happen. A lot of things that happened hadn’t been his plan to actually happen.

Your breathing is soft and steady, your face squished against his shoulder as you sleep. You look like an angel. Nothing can touch you here, it seems. You’re entirely peaceful.

He blinks awake slowly. The memories from the night before come flooding him, your limbs intertwined with his, your lips everywhere, your cunt wrapped around his cock, the way you tasted on his tongue, and he shivers. It wasn’t a dream.

He reaches out, his fingers hesitant before they bury in your soft locks. Your hair is all over the place, but it makes you look even more human, more fragile, and a lot more beautiful because he knows he gets to see you be yourself without people around. He’s in your bed, no one else. You let him make love to you, not any other man. You chose him. You chose not to run, you chose to stay. All of the things he did that should have scared you away, you said ‘fuck it’ and chose him anyway. If that isn’t a grand display of your devotion, he’s not sure what is. It’s almost suffocating how much you seem to care.

He truly didn’t think he would end up in your bed when he made his way to your apartment the day before, it hadn’t been his plan, not at all, but he is endlessly grateful for getting another chance with you. He hardly had any hopes when he asked you for help.

You know the truth now, you’re bound to him, and he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. Now that you crossed this line, he has to keep you safe somehow. He can’t have the past repeating itself, which is precisely what scares him as he looks at your sleeping form in his arms, so innocent and peaceful.

You stir eventually, his fingers still massaging your scalp. Your head moves to his chest and you let out a small, subconscious sigh. He chuckles softly and holds you closer, making sure the blanket continues to cover your naked frame. It’s cold inside, even with the heater on. Maybe he should take a look at your apartment and find a better solution because you could get sick. He doesn’t want you catching your death when the cold of winter arrives.

Why he’s making plans for the future already, he doesn’t know.

“Morning,” you murmur sleepily.

Michael looks down at you. “Hey,” he says with a soft smile.

You squint, rubbing your eyes. He can see the brain cells in your head coming back to life, and it’s an almost hilarious sight.

He strokes another strand of hair out of your face. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Good,” you say.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah. How about you?” you return the question, not just out of courtesy but because you’re actually interested.

He didn’t tell you about the nightmares, but with his past it wasn’t hard to figure he gets them.

The tip of his index finger strokes over the bridge of your nose, soothing your nerves. “Better than I have in a long time,” the admission sounds almost content coming from him.

You smile. “I’m glad.”

His hands have not once left your body throughout the night. He’s held you close every passing second, and he still refuses to let you go. You can see the hidden fear in his eyes, the fear of the unknown, of the unspoken, and his soul is still conflicted. He carries years of excruciating pain inside, that is not something one night can make go away, but you made sure to tell him that he isn’t alone.

Michael is used to being alone. Hearing from you that he isn’t, that his struggles aren’t just his to face anymore, is a lot to get used to. He has to change his mindset. He has to open himself up to you, be naked and vulnerable. It’s almost terrifying. You’re such a good person and he saw how much the truth hurt you, the little twinkle of fear in your eyes yesterday, and the fear of losing you settles into his chest like a heavy pile of bricks. He can’t shake them off. He thinks losing you now might be easier than later, but he wouldn’t be able to survive either way. His head is a mess and he hates that his thoughts don’t make sense.

You look at him with your doe eyes, watching his forehead wrinkle. The storm he’s trying to hide from you displays in the brown of his irises. Reaching out, you cup his cheek.

“Mikey,” you say softly, “look at me.”

He hesitantly turns his head toward you.

“Tell me what’s on your mind. Don’t shut me out.”

He sighs. “I can’t tell ya,” he admits, “‘cause I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand everything all the time.”

“I know, it’s just… I don’t know.”

You change your position to look at him face-to-face. Without another word, he turns onto his side too, meeting your eyes. You can see the tears glistening in his own, but there is a promise hidden in there. He’s giving you all of his attention, his eyes searching your face for any signs of resentment, and he looks so helpless with the sun shining through the curtains and onto his face, you can’t help but cradle his face in your hands. It’s a silent vow that you’re there, that you meant what you said the day before. You’re not going anywhere.

“I gave myself to you,” you say, “You gave yourself to me in return. You showed me who you truly are. You took a big step last night. It doesn’t matter if we crossed a line or not. What you showed me is not something to take lightly and I am so proud of you for finally asking for what you need.”

You’re proud of him. Michael shudders. He barely hears anyone say that to him anymore. Usually, people aren’t proud of him. He can’t remember the last time he did something worthy to pride himself with.

You continue, your voice a gentle song to serenade him, “I told you how I feel, that I don’t care about your family, I only care about you. I don’t need them, only you. I can tell you’re in pain, Michael, and I want nothing more than to help you,” you say. “That’s all I want. I would never judge you or send you away, you’re too important for that. I just need to know… are you even ready for this? Because I don’t want to get hurt. I’ve been hurt so many times in the past, I don’t think I could take another heartbreak without shattering the person I’ve worked so hard to become.” Your voice cracks.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow almost in agony when he sees you like this. You’re a vulnerable person, even though you barely show it to anyone. You have a past just like everyone else. You’re human. You fought hard to get to where you are and he’s a hurricane, he only knows how to cause chaos, and that could take your sunshine away. But you’re important to him. He needs your light to shine through the clouds and make his life a little easier. He needs your sun for the rain to stop so that he can grow a rainbow. You’re normal, he’s said that before, and normal is what he needs.

He should have claimed it before. He shouldn’t have been so conflicted, thinking about what could have been or should have been. He’s not pulling you into a war he’s planning to fight in. You’re a breath of fresh air. You have enchanted him inside and out, with your kind nature and your wicked body, and he couldn’t let you go even if he tried. He tried, but it didn’t work, and now he’s in the same bed as you. Destiny has funny ways of bringing together what belongs together.

You blink through your tears. “You’re different from everyone else. I understand, but there is so much you have yet to teach me about you, and if you tell me you can’t do this, if this was just a one-night thing for you, I need to know so I can move on,” you sound insistent. “People have been walking all over me ever since I can remember, and I don’t want to be just another means to an end. I–“

He cuts you off with a kiss. His lips brush yours ever so gently and the words die on your tongue.

“You’re none of tha’,” he whispers as if anyone could hear him, even in the solace of your bedroom. “Yer no rebound or means to an end. Yer not a one-night stand. I came here because of ya, because I needed you. I don’t understand why, but yer the only person I can count on, and that makes me feel less alone. And I’ve been alone for so long,” he says.

The tear makes its way down his cheeks and meets your hand where it lies tangled with his now on the mattress.

“I don’t remember what it’s like to have someone care fer me anymore,” your name sounds like a sad ballad tumbling from his plump lips. “It’s been a while, and even before tha’ I wasn’t… there was a point where I was just filled with self-pity, and after going away, it got bad again–“

His eyes are closed. Talking about it hurts, but he’s talking. That counts for something.

“I pushed ya away ‘cause I lost the woman I loved before and… and I don’t want ya to get caught in the crossfire just ‘cause ya accept me,” he says. “My life is dangerous, even when I’m not workin’ for my family. I’m dangerous. I forgot what it’s like to live, to breathe, to show someone I care because I… I don’t think I know how ta care the way ya deserve, and you deserve only the best. I don’t know if I’m good, if I can even be that fer ya.”

With every word coming from him, your heart breaks a little more. If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s trying to push you away or end whatever it is that you had all over again, but you know better.

His feelings are all over the place, and so are his words, but weirdly enough, it makes sense to you. You know how to translate the language he speaks without trying. You feel so deeply for him, you can feel his pain in your soul. His memories are yours, just without the detailed pictures, and he has been through so much, he doesn’t deserve to suffer anymore.

You sniffle, your tears matching his. His eyes are closed now. “It’s exhausting,” he admits, “tryin’ to be better, but no matter what you do, yer playin’ a losin’ game. That’s what it feels like, fightin’ for Anna, fightin’ to be better. Constantly, I–“

When a wave of choked-up sobs breaks over him, you scoot closer to hold him. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him as close as you possibly can, your forehead pressing against his.

Michael exhales, the breath getting stuck in his throat. “I feel like I’m losin’ her…”

“I know,” you say, stroking your fingers through his unruly hair.

“I love my family, I have to admit, they’ve always been there fer me, but right now… I don’t want ta be Michael Kinsella anymore,” he says, “I just wanna be Michael.”

He just wants to be Michael, period. Not a Kinsella, just himself, no crime, no bloodshed, no chaos. He wants what every good father would want. It’s something he deserves, there is no denying that.

After what he went through, the sacrifices he made, and what he lost, he deserves to be just Michael for a while. You can’t choose your family, you can’t choose whether or not you love them, but you can start a new life and break free from an endless cycle if that’s what you want. He hasn’t realized yet that this is what he deserves, but you won’t let him go on this journey alone, you’re more than convinced now. He needs someone, and it just happened to become you that he can hold on to.

His eyes open slowly to meet yours. “What if the mistakes I made… what if all of the fuck up’s made me unworthy?”

You offer a small smile, your eyes filled with endless devotion. You shake your head. “That’s not true,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“But what if they did? What if I’m unworthy of a second chance?”

“We all make mistakes, Mikey. What matters is that you’re willing to fight for your daughter now. That dedication is what makes you worthy. I mean, what if you look beyond Michael Kinsella, beyond your last name? Who are you then?”

He contemplates. You can see the wheels in his head turning. Then, he opens his mouth to quietly answer, “I don’t know,” he says.

“And that’s okay,” you say. “You can just figure that out as you go. But you know what you want, right? That’s all that matters.”

“I… I want my daughter back. And I want… I want…”

“Yes?”

His body shudders when he sighs. “You,” he blurts. “I want you.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. For a moment you wonder if you misheard him, but then he says it again together with the softest version of your name and a gentle, “love,” and you know he means it.

“I want you too,” you say.

“You do?” His eyes fill with hope.

“Yeah. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Mikey. If you’re willing to try, I’m willing to try. You bewitched me, body and soul, and I don’t think I could let you go even if I tried.”

“I want nothin’ more than ta try,” he says. “But I’m scared…”

“Of what?”

“Not being enough.”

“You’re enough for me.”

“But what if I can’t be?”

“That won’t happen.”

A sad chuckle escapes him. “How are ya always so positive, always know what to say?”

“I don’t know,” you say, “I guess it’s just one of my many charms.”

“Please–“ his voice cracks and he grabs your face tightly with his hands.

You nuzzle your nose against his, your bodies molding together like candle wax. “Please what?” you ask.

“Please don’t leave me,” he says.

Ouch. If the thin ice on a river in early winter could have a sound, it would be his voice. You only have to take one step for it to crack, and then he’s broken.

You wrap your hand around his wrist, keeping his hands where they are. He can feel your pulse, your soft breathing, and he sees the determination in your eyes when you force him to look at you.

“I’m not going to leave you,” you say.

There is a fine line between using ‘will’ and the ‘going to’ future. With ‘will’ there is a chance you don’t know or don’t believe it might happen, but you chose your words wisely and they mean what you wanted them to mean – you are not going to leave him. It’s not your plan and even if it means manipulating the future, moving mountains, or messing with destiny, you are going to make sure you don’t ever have to leave. As long as Michael tries, too, but looking at him you can tell he is attached to you and he wants to be better because there is something he is fighting for, he is just getting too weak to see the whole picture. Now you’re here though and you are strong enough to keep hope for both of you, but especially for him and his broken soul.

“I know it feels like you’re losing,” you continue, “but I’m here now and I am not going to let you fall. I promise you, Michael. If you want me to stay and if you’re willing to let me in, I’m not going anywhere.”

He sniffles, tasting the salt of his tears on his tongue. “Thank you,” he breathes, and he allows himself to melt into your arms, his forehead still pressed against yours as you build a sanctuary around your intertwined bodies.

“Anything for you, darling.”

You stay like this for a while. His breathing slows down eventually and the tears subside, and you calm yourself down. Silence settles in. It’s comfortable. The sun disappears outside and you can hear the faintest sound of thunder in the distance. Chances are it’s going to rain soon.

“I have another question,” you dare to open your mouth to ask what has been burning in your chest.

Michael opens his reddened eyes. “Ask away,” he says.

“Are you working for your brother’s wife because you need a job or because of, you know–“ you motion to nothing in particular.

He gets what you mean and shakes his head. “I needed a stable job to show the courts I’m tryin’ to be better.”

“To get Anna back?”

“Yeah.”

“I never expected anything less from you.”

“But it’s washin’ cars. Doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

You nod. You get the idea and you get his worries. They’re not without reason. You think about work, the café, and your lovely colleagues. You think about Sarah and how she struggled to get a job after moving. There are a lot of stories mixed in the Butterfly Effect, and everyone carries somewhat of a burden, but the café saved them. It continues to change people’s lives.

“The butterfly effect refers to the compounding impact of small changes,” you blurt out.

Understandably, Michael frowns at the randomness of your words.

“As a consequence, it is nearly impossible to make accurate predictions for the future or to identify the precise cause of an inexplicable change. Long periods of stability are followed by sudden declines and vice versa,” you say.

He leans back. “Okay?”

“I’m sorry, that was random.”

He wants to kiss you so badly right now. How can one person be so adorable yet so beautiful at the same time?

“Care to elaborate?” he asks.

“I was kind of trying to get somewhere. I’m a romantic, you know? I believe in the good. I know people. I see a lot and I understand a lot. I believe in the divine and in hope and destiny and the supernatural. I’m a writer. Everyone has a different perception of life, obviously–“ You pause to wrap yourself tighter in your blanket.

“One day,” you continue, “I went to the library and there was this reading of a book and I heard the author read one paragraph. She said, “In the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, a gentle breeze stirs, carrying with it the possibility of change. It dances across our path, whispering, ‘What if?’ And at that moment, lives are altered, destinies redirected, and the extraordinary is born from the ordinary. Embrace the delicate chaos, for within the fragile wings of a butterfly lies the power to transform the world.” And it struck me, so I bought the book and I read it twice in one night. After that, I packed my things and quit my job, and I decided I wanted to find my path. I wanted to write. I wanted to live for myself. I left what I knew behind, and it led me to the café, it led me here, and now… now I’m here. With you.”

Michael hums.

“My point is, the butterfly effect is real,” you say. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a single sip of coffee that makes your whole week, smoking a cigarette and dooming yourself for the next decade, a butterfly flapping its wings in the jungle somewhere and causing a tornado in Texas, or hearing a paragraph from a coming-of-age book in your mid-twenties and realizing that you’re stuck and need to get out, which leads you onto an unexpected path. The butterfly effect is real and your life can change drastically in only a millisecond, and that makes it almost impossible to predict the future.”

He knows how the butterfly effect works, but there is something about the way you describe him that strikes him to his core. It allows him a deeper understanding of not only your thoughts but the world of your feelings as well. You’re a complex character, but you have a good heart, and the way you describe yourself puts him in a state of awe whenever he looks at you.

“There’s a reason the café is so popular. And we’re understaffed.”

He tilts his head. Words fail him, but he shows you that he’s attentive and that he listens to everything you have to say.

“You can learn how to make our drinks in a few days. I did, too.” You’re getting closer to your intention. “And we’re in desperate need of new staff.”

“I–“ Michael looks at the ceiling. Did you just offer him a job? “I‘ve been to prison. I have priors,” he says. “You know that it’s not tha’ easy.”

After his attorney told him that chances are slim to get his daughter back and getting a job with his name and history seemed like an impossibility, he turned to Amanda because at least with her, he knew he could get a job. But even then he found himself sabotaged and benched for a whole different reason. No matter what he does, it’s never enough.

You catch another of his tears when it escapes the corner of his left eye. “That’s the thing, we don’t care about that. I have this colleague, his name is Oliver. He’s been to prison,” you say. “I admit, they convicted him for vehicular manslaughter because he was drunk one night after a party when he freshly turned 18 and just got his driver’s license, and the judge thought giving a teenager twenty-five too life would be a little too excessive, but he still spent years in prison just like you. As harsh as our boss can be, she believes in second chances, so she gave him the job. Without second-guessing her decision. He’s been working at the café ever since we opened our doors, and that’s been a while. You- you were still in prison then, I think.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re just sayin’ tha’ to make me feel better.”

“Look at me and tell me I’m lying.”

He looks at you, but he already knows you’re telling the truth. Your expression is stern yet gentle. “Why?” Michael whispers.

“Why what?” you ask.

“Why do ya want to help me?”

“I told you, I care about you and I’m willing to try if you are.”

He takes your hand. Gently, he presses a kiss to your knuckles. His tears wet your skin, but you allow him to let it out.

Silence settles back in as he struggles for the right words to say. Your finger strokes his wet cheeks until he’s stopped crying, but it takes him a while before he speaks again.

“Amanda, that’s her name,” he mutters.

“What?” you ask.

“My brother’s wife, who I work for. We’ve been through a lot of shit together.”

“And?”

“Nothin’, it’s just that it’s hard to separate myself from tha’.”

You nod. “I get that. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought–”

“Yer not wrong,” Michael cuts you off with a gentle finger to your lips. “And I think… being in prison changed a lot, but then I met you and I– well, ya keep talkin’ about the butterfly effect and I think yer mine.”

You meet his eyes.

“My family sabotaged this job. I wanted to work with the books, but Amanda benched me ta washin’ cars because they’re tryin’ to get me to give up and work for them again,” he states.

You press a kiss to his finger before making some space for you to talk. “Are you thinking about it?” you ask.

He doesn’t blame you for still being a little weary. He’s given you a lot of insight in such a short amount of time, it’s draining, but you deserve it, and yet there is still so much you have to learn.

“I’m thinkin’ about it, but I won’t do it.”

“Do you really want to continue washing cars and be unhappy?”

He thinks about the question for a moment. “Ya make me happy,” his voice sounds like a fragile exhale. “And I don’t know how to thank ya for tryin’, I just… I need ta learn how to write an application again.”

“If that’s the only problem,” you say, stroking your thumb along the jawline hidden under his beard.

“What?”

“I can help you.”

“You would do tha’?” he asks. “Fer me?”

You only smile at him before bringing your lips to his. “Always,” you say, and then you finally kiss him again.

Michael was starving for your lips. Feeling you kiss him harder this time makes him dizzy and he wraps his arms around your waist; you’re his rock, a stable constant to hold onto so he won’t get lost in the tide. Your lips are his salvation. He could drown in you and still be alive. You make the world spin a little slower.

Before you, existing felt like sitting on a carousel without controls and he kept getting sicker with every passing moment, but you make the chaos dissipate and you slow down the endless back and forth – you breathe fresh air into his lungs.

“You know,” you pull away to look at him with a playful grin playing on your face, “I’m actually one of the best when it comes to filling out application forms. It’s a talent I’ve been told I possess.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I’m really good at it. Almost as good as I am at quitting the jobs I apply for, but–”

Laughter tumbles from his lips. You just in with a soft giggle, not wanting to overshadow the clear sound of his laugh. He sounds like an angel.

“It’s true,” you chuckle, “I have a long history of quitting jobs.”

“Mhm.” He buries his face in your neck.

“I tend to struggle with commitment, you know? And I’ve lost myself many times before because I wasn’t sure what I wanted, then I found the café, I made friends and I settled down. You could say I’m a restless person, but with you–” You take a deep breath as your fingers thread through his hair. “I know what I want,” you finish.

Michael lifts his head from your neck, his eyes meeting yours. He reaches up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"I understand tha' feeling," he says softly. "I've spent so much of my life feelin' like there was somethin' missing. But being with ya, it's like everythin' falls into place. After eight years, I... Ya showed me how to breathe again.”

You smirk. “That’s a lot of credit.”

“I may not understand it now, but I’m tryin’.” The genuine hope in his eyes makes the butterflies in your stomach dance wildly.

“You want to be just Michael, right?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well, I liked you from the moment you stepped foot into the café, so I’ve liked you ever since you were just Michael who ordered a boring double espresso, but you didn’t say no to trying something new, and that’s when I saw who you really are. What I’m saying is, it works,” you say. “And I care about you so deeply, that’s all that matters to me.”

His eyes switch to your lips again. An answer to your gentle admission never follows; Michael presses his lips to yours in a heated embrace and he pulls you on top of him. Everything else fades away. At that moment, it’s just the two of you.

Your bodies entwine as if he's a magnet, still, and you're the missing piece, and you find yourself willingly succumbing to the pull as you did the night before. The world around you ceases to exist. Every touch, every caress, ignites a fire within.

He nibbles at your bottom lip, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You push back into the kiss, throwing your hair over your shoulder to get it out of the way. His hands rest on your hips, gliding over every inch of bare skin he can reach under the blanket. You’re still naked from the night before, allowing him to explore you with his hands and his mouth, eager as he is.

"I wanna be the man ya deserve," he pants into the kiss. His hands slip lower, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

Your heat bumps against his hardening cock and you gasp. Your hips start their own rhythm. His tip brushes against your clit, caressing the throbbing nub, your body still sore from the night before, but his grabby hands have you yearning for him in only a few seconds and you want nothing more than to be close to him. Closer.

He grabs your breast, his large hand setting an almost comforting rhythm as he plays with the flesh, tweaking your nipples and pulling at them. You’re his toy to use and you have absolutely no problem with that.

A soft smile spreads across your face as you reach out to cup his cheek. "You already are enough," you whisper. "In my eyes, you're perfect just the way you are. Flaws and all. You’re more than enough for me, Michael, please believe that.”

With each passing moment, you can feel the walls he's built around himself crumbling, allowing you to see the true essence of who he is. And in return, you offer him the same vulnerability and acceptance.

You reach between your connecting bodies, grabbing a hold of his cock. He hisses, which quickly turns into a low groan when you coat him in your wetness and line him up with your entrance. You swallow him just right, your walls hugging him like you were made just for him, and he slides in easily. He bucks his hips, bottoming out, and you lower your weight down on his lap entirely.

You both pause, your lips ghosting over each other as you moan air into each other’s lungs.

With every touch, every whispered word, you create a whole new world for just you two, where the past becomes a distant memory and there is a future ahead with possibilities that seem sheerly endless. It’s the definition of hope for something new, and you’re that for him. You embody everything he needs and more.

Grinding on him, your clit rubs against his pelvis, and his cock continuously pushes down on your G-spot. The head of his cock, ever so sensitive, reacts every time he does, and his cock throbs inside of you. From top to bottom, he’s on fire. The heat of your skin feels like velvety lava under his fingers. He moves from your ass over your thighs to your hips and then up to your throat. One of his hands wraps around your neck while the other pushes you into him by the back of your head, and he kisses you with all his might.

Your moans bounce off the walls in the bedroom. His fingers start rubbing your clit gently, his tongue fighting with yours for dominance, and as the rain begins to fall outside and platters against your window in a soothing rhythm, you come undone around him. He follows right after you, his cum coating your hot walls and trickling down his shaft back down your thighs, onto his own, and staining the sheets. You’re a sticky mess of cum and sweat, but you find solace in each other’s lips and it’s all either of you can focus on. Only you exist, your hands and your bodies, and the sizzling air between you, and that’s more than enough.

While Michael showers, you retreat to the kitchen to make some coffee. You invested in an expensive coffee machine for personal use after your first paycheck rolled in and you don’t regret the decision. Pouring some hazelnut syrup into the mug, you pour the coffee over it, and add the hot milk and the foam you stirred. It’s the most basic drink you’ve made him so far, but the taste of hazelnuts reminds you of the color of his eyes and it’s your favorite drink in the mornings when you have a day off.

He enters the kitchen to the sound of your gentle humming and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. You don’t notice him at first, his feet barely making a sound on the usually so creaky floorboards. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind and you jump a little; it has been a while since you spent the morning with someone else.

Michael plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, holding you a little closer. You lean back against him. “You have impeccable timing,” you murmur.

“I smelled coffee,” he says.

You chuckle, reaching back to run your fingers through his wet hair. “Did you now?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, a bloodhound for coffee?”

He presses another kiss to your shoulder, then your neck before twirling you around and planting one right on your lips. “Only fer yours.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to cheat on my coffee.”

“I’d never,” Michael says. His brown eyes travel over your face, his hand reaching out to trace your features. He can’t believe he’s here, that you’re here, and that you’re both together like this. Touching you still feels like a fever dream. “Your coffee is the only coffee fer me, love.”

You lean into his touch. “Is that a metaphor?” you question.

He chuckles, the sound reverberating in his chest and warming your heart. “Maybe,” he says.

“Then maybe I should write a book about the history of coffee.”

“I’m afraid that already exists.”

“How do you know?”

He glides a finger down your nose. “I’ve been around.”

“Okay, but does it have metaphors?” you challenge.

With a chuckle, he shakes his head and gives your lips another chaste kiss. “Ya think anyone’s gonna read tha’?” he retorts, although his tone is teasing.

You laugh. "I could add some steamy romance, maybe that would work."

Michael feigns shock, his hand resting over his heart. "Oh, so ya want ta turn coffee into a scandalous novel?" he says. “That’s naughty, pet.”

“You seriously are underestimating the sensuality of a good cup of coffee,” you say.

He raises his eyebrows almost up to his hairline. "I need some proof for tha’ or I can’t believe ya.”

“Aw,” you take his hand and dunk his index finger into the foam on his hazelnut coffee. Your eyes never leave his when you move the digit to your mouth and promptly, without warning, suck on it.

His brain fails to conduct a viable thought. Your tongue swirls around the tip of his finger almost as if it’s the head of his cock, and his heart stops beating. You look up at him through hooded eyes – the look on your face isn’t helping the blood from rushing between his legs and straight to his cock.

You release his finger with a loud ‘pop’. “It’s an ongoing investigation,” you purr.

Fuck. The air between you crackles with electricity.

“Hazelnut,” he whispers.

You guide the mug to his mouth with a knowing smirk. He takes a sip, the taste exploding on his tongue almost instantly. You are a cruel seductress, he has to give you that.

“Reminds me of your eyes,” you whisper.

“Does it now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it tastes grand.”

“Thank you, I made it with extra love today.”

“You always give your everythin’.”

You shrug. “That’s just who I am.”

Your eyes meet. The desire from before is still there, but the sweetness of your voice and the gentle flow of the words passed between you flick a switch.

"Ya give so effortlessly," he says, "with a heart that's overflowin' with kindness." His voice is filled with reverence then, "I'm grateful to be on the receiving end of tha’ kindness, and that ya trust me with your heart. I’ll watch over it like a hawk.”

With a soft smile, you lean in and press your lips against his forehead. "I'm so glad you chose to get coffee that day, Mikey," you say. “And I’m glad you chose to come back.”

He wraps his arms around you, burying his nose in your hair. "Thank you."

“For what?”

“Everythin’,” he says.

As the rain continues to fall outside, he holds you close. You watch the raindrops pearl off your kitchen window, your fingers drawing circles on his lower back. The silence between you is comfortable. The unspoken words that hang between you find their way into the world through touch, and he grips you a little tighter when his thoughts threaten to ruin the moment.

In your arms, Michael finds shelter from the storm. It rained the first day he met you and it’s raining now, which isn’t unusual for Dublin, but to him, it means so much more than he could describe.

The rain becomes a silent promise – even the smallest, unrelated events can lead to big changes, but the butterfly effect doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing anymore. The butterfly effect can change your life for the better, and it can bring light back into your life when you least expect it, showing you that there is still beauty in pain and there will be a rainbow after the rain.

You are the butterfly that flapped its wings, but instead of causing chaos, you mended it, and you turned what he thought his life would be like all the way upside down. That means more to him than words ever could.

In your embrace, he finds his sanctuary, and together you would pick up the pen and rewrite the pages of your story with a better ending fitting for the both of you.

To Be Continued…

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella #kin amc #charlie cox #reader insert #butterfly effect #coffee shop au

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sidthedollface2 · 6 months

Text

Third Love

Ch: 7 El Catrin

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Summary: After your perfect date with Eddie gets tarnished by his friends' hurtful words. Things take an odd turn when a stranger sends you to the hospital only to end up a friend of a friend. What happens when you're both left alone and an unchained melody plays in the background.

CW: MDNI 18+ Nightmares, mental illness, mentions of death of a parent, SMUT, Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie, Locker room guy talk, Reader with another man (not cheating). I gave you a cute lil nickname cuz you're a 🍑

"You can call me Peach."

"Peach." He says, already liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. "Oh, um I was wondering if you knew where this building was? Was looking for it when I …accidently hit you."

You take a look at the address, brows furrowed as you glance back at him. "Are you visiting someone?" You question. "Yeah, yeah. My friend Max said it was ok to crash at her apartment for a few days while I get my stuff together."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, "Did she now," this was all news to you. Where was he going to sleep? When was she going to tell you? Sure, you weren't really home that often, but a little heads up would be nice.

"I guess you could help me upstairs, since you'll be staying over."

Steve grins from ear to ear, already holding your purse and his duffle bag, hand on the small of your back guiding you slowly up the steps. When you reach your apartment Max is nowhere to be found.

Glad to finally be home after a long day, you strip out of your clothes and into comfy pajamas. Steve takes a seat on the couch, eyes glancing every direction admiring the decor that's a perfect combo of you and Max. "You can make yourself at home, showers just down the hall, I'm sure you're tired so um couch or, Max's room is just across from mine." You give him a tight lipped smile, setting down a glass of water for him. "Welcome to anything in the fridge."

"Thanks, you should get some rest. Dr's orders and all."

"Mmhmm," you agree, leaving Steve in the living room as you walk hop towards your bedroom, wincing in pain at every step. Once in your room, you make yourself comfy with many pillows propped behind your head and under your ankle. Cold ice pack along the bridge of your nose. You couldn't believe the day you had, exhaustion from the rollercoaster of emotions and pain medication slowly working you into slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

911 What's your emergency?

"She's dead."

Who's dead?

"My mom."

Who killed her?

"I did."

"No…….No….Mom…….wake up!!" You mumble, tears flooding your waterline as you relive the night your mother died. Sweat pools the collar of your shirt as you toss and turn in bed, sheets twisted around your legs from kicking and jerking against your mattress. Heavy sobs wreck your body causing you to flinch and twitch, each jostle further injuring your bandaged ankle and wrapped knees. Loud shrieks echo in your room as you scream out "It's not true, It's not true!"

Forceful pounding at your door shocks you awake, splotches of crimson stain your once white sheets, dried blood crusted around your nostrils. Your eyes attempt to focus in the dark. Heart beating out of your chest you scramble off your bed to the floor, knees to your chest, rocking back and forth, tears freely streaming down your face.

Body buzzing from intense pain and fear you flinch at the sudden touch to your knee. Acting on instinct you push the person in front of you, causing them to fall back from their kneeling position. As you stand to dart from their grasp, you cry out in pain when your injured foot stubs the corner of your bed.

Muscled arms wrap around your waist pulling you into them. Cradled in their arms the soothing words "hey hey Peach you're ok, It's just a nightmare, you're safe," repeat in your ears, voice quiet and smooth. Soft hands run up and down your back, calming your trembling form. Mindlessly your fingers brush their hair at the nape of their neck, the constant action soothing you, but causing goosebumps along their arms and they shudder at the sensation. You buried your face into his shoulder, the scent of vanilla invading your senses.

Steve.

It's different from the smoke and leather you wish it was. Your curious hand strokes at the thatch of hair on his chest, you feel a swift intake of breath as your palm sits between his pecs. His nose nudges at the slope of your neck, lips skimming the delicate skin, the feel of a faint peck just below your ear heats your body.

Your consciousness slips in and out, a solid weight grounding your nightmares. Steve's arms are wrapped around you, still sitting curled up on his lap. You know he's uncomfortable but doesn't make an effort to move. His breath fans across your face, light snores telling you he's fallen asleep. Your tears have dried, your heart no longer racing. The pain in your ankle now intensified from kicking and hitting it against the bed.

You shift to get off the floor and climb back in your soft bed, groaning as you attempt to stand. "Easy, I gotcha." Steve says, voice groggy with sleep. He stands with a wince as he stretches out his limbs before he helps you to the bed. Fluffing your pillows for optimal comfort. He places another pillow under your ankle to elevate the limb, and grabs his sheet from the living room to drape over you.

"Steve, I'm sorry you had to see that." You sniffle, chest tight with sadness and fear. You didn't want anyone to witness those bad nightmares, especially someone you just met. Everything from the hurt that Eddie caused, to the name calling from his bandmates, to unintentionally hurting Sebastian who's nothing more than understanding with you. To the bag colliding with your face. It was all too much for one day.

All you wanted was rest from the awful day you had but of course instead of warmth and sunshine you received clouds and rain. "It's alright, just get some rest." He was standing in the doorway, another comment on the tip of his tongue, but he decided against it. His hand held onto the door knob slowly closing the door behind him. "Hey Steve?" You questioned. He peeked back inside, "hmmm?"

"Could you…maybe lay with me? Until I fall asleep? Please." Your small voice broke him, how could he say no? After the screams he heard and the thrashing about in your bed. "Sure," he said, closing the door behind him. He slid under the covers, the heat of his body already calming you. He faced away from you, scared he crossed a line when he softly kissed your neck.

He did it to bring your focus to something tender instead of terrifying, it worked, to his surprise. He wouldn't try anything else, not unless you wanted of course. Sleep came easy for him, the scent of your pillow a welcomed contrast to the musk of his roommates from back home. It had been too long since he was in bed with a woman, a pretty one at that.

Unfortunately for you the night was still restless. It wasn't the nightmares this time but flashes of your beautiful mother. It was bitter sweet, seeing her in your dreams. Almost like she was just away on vacation, but that wasn't true. You saw it happen, her screams as she took the bullet.

The way she collapsed onto your arms and the bright red blood that seeped from the wound. Her wide and teary eyes as they searched for you, focusing in and out as more blood escaped her body. The shallowness of her breaths as her time came closer and closer. You'll never forget the look on her face when her light dimmed.

You woke up in Steve's arms, one arm wrapped around your back holding you to his chest, while the other lay on your bare thigh. His face mere inches from yours as you laid on top of him, chest to chest, you must have snuggled up to him during the night. Your eyes widened at the closeness, quietly you attempted to roll off him but in his groggy haze he just nuzzled into you more. The hand that was on your thigh traveled up the curve of your behind to rest on your back, giving you a tight squeeze.

You cleared your throat and that's when Steve's eyes shot wide open. Pulling his arms away from you to land flush against the bed. You felt him tense under you, back stiff and prone to the bed. You rolled off of him, pretending you didn't feel him half hard under you.

A swift knock at your bedroom door made you both turn to see who it was, when a pair of bright blue eyes came through from behind the door. Max quickly noticed a man in your bed and closed the door muttering a nervous "sorry, sorry," before she barged in again.

"Steve?" She gaped, pupils wide at seeing her friend in bed with her other friend. "It's not what you think." You exclaimed, almost launching yourself off the bed to explain yourself. Steve stopped you, his arm gripping your elbow. "I'll talk to her," he muttered, not wanting you to further injure yourself.

You nodded, concern written all over your face at what Max would think if you had slept with Steve. She knew all too well the nightmares you had so when Steve told her everything that had happened, she was more than understanding and even apologized for not being home when she said she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That morning Eddie showed up to Twisted Records, a large bouquet of flowers sent to the front desk addressed to you. He was hoping he could catch you at work and explain himself. He had called you multiple times, but each call was left unanswered, going straight to voicemail. He was soon getting tired of hearing the same message over and over. Even his text messages were being delivered but none had been read. To say he was starting to get worried was an understatement, had you blocked him? At that moment Eddie's phone buzzed, excitement rushed through him as he frantically checked the message.

Big Boy Steve: Just woke up in bed next to the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

Eddie just shook his head, wondering how his friend was already hooking up on his first day in California.

Eddie: Tell me all about it later. Busy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once your lunch time rolled around and you still hadn't shown up, Eddie decided to drive to your dads house. He wasn't sure if your security would buzz him in this time, but it was a gamble he was willing to take.

His shaky finger pressed the intercom, static followed by a gruff "how can I help you?"

"Hi, uh. Is Peach home? She told me to meet her here last night. I don't know if you remember me but I picked her up the other day." He lies, nervously hoping the guard lets him in and that you're home.

"Name?" The guard asks.

Shit.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson."

"I see. Peach is not on the property at this time." He clarifies.

Defeated Eddie drives back home. The longer he waits to see you or talk to you the further he feels from you. The last place he thinks you'll be is your apartment but he knows if he shows up you'd start to ask questions. He didn't want to give up, despite what he had said previously, the second he saw you, he knew you were the one. He had been with enough girls, talked to enough girls to know that you were meant to be together. So he'd try again tomorrow and the next day and the next until he saw you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't showed up to the office the following day either, the pain medication was so strong that it had you sleeping and drowsy almost all day. Steve was true to his word offering to drive you wherever you needed. First stop was at Austin's house. When you arrived his manager informed you that the crew was already en route to set up the cameras and equipment for the live stream that was to take place the next day.

"Whoa, what the fuck happend to you?" Austin questioned, alarmed at the state you were in. He was well aware of the abusive ways men can be, having been in the rap industry for a while. He's seen his fair share; but he never expected it from you.

"Was just an accident, got hit with a duffle bag." You groaned, hoping to inspect the area that would be visible to the stream. "Shit, must have been a bag full of books." He chuckled, trailing behind you, a cigarette between his fingers to calm his nerves.

Austin was a fairly popular rapper but needed to appeal to a bigger audience and get on the label's good graces again. He had never played rock before and he knew Nirvana fans were loyal to the band and the memory of Kurt, so to say he was on edge was an understatement.

"Looks good Austin, not bad for an idiot." You laughed, playfully smacking him in the gut. He had been your friend for his whole career so little jabs and insults didn't rile him up, had you been someone else though a different story. "Oh, before I forget. This is work Austin, not a damn party so no extra guests."

Austin scoffs, a small smirk gracing his lips. "Whatever you say boss." He turns away from you, walking to the other areas that will be on the live stream. You knew that tone, he was going to do whatever he pleased. He was the talent afterall. "Ugh fine, party after the stream though. I'm serious." Austin just grinned, the wheels in his head already turning with mischief.

There were four areas that would be on camera. One on Austin, he would be in front of the bar which showcased the bottles of various alcohol that were also sponsored. The second camera would be on Travis, his drum kit would be coming in the morning. His set up would be in front of a mini bar with a photo of Nirvana in the background.

The bassist Brian was going to be in an all white room, a bass lined up behind him for a song change. The last area would be for the guitar player Eric, who confirmed he was available that same morning. His set up was in front of a pool table with all his guitars and amps off to the side. Once all four areas were prepped and set up, you left Austin's house and headed back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve sat on the couch, Ghost played on the T.V. as you sat next to him. "I love this movie," you said. "It was my moms favorite," you found yourself smiling at the memory. She'd always enjoyed the film, a little romance mixed with suspense. "You want me to change it?" Steve suggested, not really sure if the memory was good or bad.

"No, I haven't seen it since–" And Steve understood, let you embrace whatever memory the movie had brought you. He saw joy in your eyes, perhaps a trip back to when times were better. "Here, get comfy." He tapped his thigh, urging you to elevate your ankle on his lap.

The scene of Molly and Sam at the pottery wheel had both of you longing for a similar connection. The sensual way his fingers laced with hers as he kissed at her neck had you clenching your thighs. Mindlessly, Steve began rubbing at your ankle, unable to tear his eyes away from the chemistry of the two actors. His touch was soft, slow circles at first, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips that gradually went to your calf, then your knees.

Leading to your thighs, he kneaded at the meat, his touch growing feverish. You let out a cute giggle when Steve's hand gripped a little hard between your inner mid thigh. Throwing your head back in laughter you jerked your legs. "Tickles so much." you laughed, wiping at a stray tear that escaped your waterline. Steve smirked, wiggling his fingers at you before he lunged, careful to avoid your healing injuries.

Pinning you under him, his fingers began digging into your thighs, earning loud chuckles from you as you tried with all your strength to wiggle out from under him. You were able to lift your knee out to his side, settling him between your legs. "What's the password?" Steve joked, his wide smile looking down at you while his warm hands pinched your sides.

"Please," you breathed through a smile, bucking up into him trying to get his weight off you.

Steve's eyes widened at the sensual way you sounded and how natural he met your thrust, blood rushing straight to his lower half. He stops pinching and instead smooths his hand up and down the side of your waist, testing the waters. The hem of your top is already exposing your middle from the playful tickling. Hands feeling warm and hungry for attention, each touch growing more and more impatient.

"I really wanna kiss you," he whispers, hands inching higher up your waist.

"So kiss me." You flirt, coyly biting at your bottom lip.

Steve closes the distance, his chapped lips moving against your soft ones, kissing you till your lips turned puffy and red. His hips press into yours, feeling the warmth of your core through his flannel pants, the delicious friction making him moan into your mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his broad shoulders, bringing him closer to your body.

Steve's hand cups over your breast from beneath your top, pinching and kneading at your peaked nipple. "Knew they'd be perfect." He speaks through a kiss, trailing down the curve of your jaw, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin. "Can I fuck you?" He asks, eyes filled with lust as he stares at you, lips wet and pouty, hips eager and rolling into you waiting for permission.

"Yes," you nod.

Steve is quick to pull at your jean shorts, popping the button with haste. It's been a good six months since he had any form of intimacy so his fingers clumsily fumble for the zipper. Lifting your butt off the couch, he eagerly starts to pull the denim down your hips.

"Steve, Wait! I don't have any–"

"I can pull out. And I'm clean, promise." He replies, quickly continuing to pull your shorts down, having them slide down your legs.

"Ok. Yeah." The tone in your voice is one of uncertainty.

"So pretty." He breathes, running his hands over the smoothness of your bare legs. His fingers trail from your delicate ankle, up behind your calf to the plush of your outer thigh, curving behind to grab at your ass. He hooks his fingers at the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down the soft curve of your hips.

"Stop."

"Why?!"

Steve shakes his head at his response. Disappointed in his frustration, "I'm sorry, I don't need a reason. We can stop."

"I'm sorry there's just…. someone else."

You wince, not exactly sure if that was the right thing to say. It was the truth. Although the words 'slut' swam around in your head didn't mean you had to make them true.

"Boyfriend?"

You don't answer him. Eddie wasn't your boyfriend, neither was Sebastian. But adding another guy to your roster just felt wrong. Sure, Steve was attractive, golden boy type. The type that made mom and dad proud. But he wasn't your type.

In a rush of embarrassment you quickly grab your shorts and pull them back on. Thankfully nothing went further than kissing, light groping and grinding. Although braless, your top managed to stay on. Crossing your arms over your chest to shield yourself from him, "I'll take an uber tomorrow," you announce. You turn away from him and make steps towards your room. Once in your room you pop a few pain pills, hoping the meds can soothe the shame in your stomach.

~~~

Steve sighs as he hangs his head low between his shoulders. He felt terrible for pushing you and now he made things awkward between you. Cursing under his breath he heads toward the shower, needing the release he so desperately wanted from you. Steve stroked his cock three times before he coated his stomach with his come. Almost happy he didn't get to be inside you and embarrass himself at how fast he would have came.

~~~~~~

Big Boy Steve: Hey, you up?

Eddie: Yeah man, what's up?

Big Boy Steve: Things got hot and heavy with the pretty girl. She felt so good I almost came in my pants like a teenager.

Eddie: lol fucken loser. Did you fuck her tho?

Big Boy Steve: Almost. We made out and then I was grabbin at her fucking tits but when I got her shorts off she said she didn't have a condom, so I said I'd pull out. But then she told me to stop. Such a tease.

Eddie: Damn that sucks. I'm gonna call you Blue Ball Steve now. Lmao.

Eddie: Anyway, I gotta go to bed. I have that Live stream tomorrow. Hope to see my girl again.

Big Boy Steve: Live Stream?

Eddie: Yea, got invited to hang out by Austin. My girl's best friend.

Big Boy Steve: Riiight. You never told me her name.

Eddie: Her name's Peach. Why?

Eddie: Steve?.....

A/N: I know some of you were waiting for the confontation between Eddie and Peach, and I promise It'll happen very very soon.

Taglist:@amira0303 @hideoutside @edsforehead @skank-sinatra13 @kissmejoey @ms1oftheboys @tlclick73 @lady-munson @luv-flor7777 @hereforshmut

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #joe quinn #eddie fanfic #eddie x angst #eddie #eddie angst #Spotify

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zaceouiswriting · 1 year

Text

Danger of love

Character: Jason Todd x male reader, mentioned Superman/Clark Kent Universe: DC Warnings: Slight smut, angst Authors note: Hello, you beautiful people. I am happy to tell you that my technical issues are finally resolved. But sadly, my backlog is so high that everything still will take a while until a regular schedule can be made up. Either way, there should be a bit more activity here again!

A sudden scream alerted me. Feeling that something was off, I immediately stood up, ignoring the call of all people I was in a face-call meeting with. Instead, I stormed through my office door, running down the hallway of my house. The screams became louder and made me gather all my strength to run as fast as possible because those screams were the ones of my infant child.

Cries of uncertainty made my heart wrench in hurt and panic. Never has he called out like this before. Like any infant, he cries a lot, but never like this, as if something or someone was there he did not recognize in his tiny brain. As if he knew that he was in danger.

When I finally got to his door, which was not far from my office, I slammed open his bedroom door. There in full view, with the sun in his back, stood a man, a mask hiding his face away, holding my infant child. Suddenly his eyes switched from my son’s to mine. Just for him to jump out of the open window, he stood in front, leaving me screaming after him.

Awakened by my own screams, my hands immediately clasped beside me where only emptiness could be felt from my slender fingers. They grabbed into my husband’s empty place. Of course, he wasn’t there. The better question is: When is my husband by my side at night?

Just then, my brain slowly remembered what I had dreamed. My annoyance from the absences of my husband suddenly subsided. Filled with fear, I jumped out of bed, readying myself for a fight.

But as I came into my son’s room, there was nowhere else he was peacefully sleeping. Still, I had a bad feeling in my stomach, which made me pull my son out of his bed, look around paranoidly, and hurry to go downstairs. On our way, I quickly grabbed my phone, immediately wandered into our downstairs library, pressed a button, and vanished into a hidden panic room.

As soon as I heard my husband's voice, I couldn't hold it anymore. I told him everything from my dream, over waking up without him, in the middle of a nightmare, over me taking our son out of his bed to get into safety.

He chuckled shortly with his deep voice before trying to soothe me. „It was only a dream, babe! Come on! You can't be like that just because of a dream.“ I could hear in his voice that he found the whole thing funny, but I didn’t - Not even close.

„I swear to god, I’m so close to screaming at you. You know damn well that my dreams are not just dreams, Jason! If our son weren't in my arms and still asleep, I'd tear you a new one!“ I told him, seething with anger. „We will stay in our panic room until you get back home!“ Without even waiting for an answer, I ended the call, red-faced with anger, but held it back for my son's sake.

To make sure I won't call him again, this time less calmly than before, I put my phone on flight mode and anxiously await his return.

Hours had passed, with my son in my arms, when I finally heard someone try to open the panic room. I quickly activated all the outside cameras, only to see Jason in front of them in his vigilante suit. Annoyance was visible on his face.

It did not take long for him to get in. „Baby, come here!“ He more or less ordered. With our son still in my arms, I walked over to him with a slowly creeping sun on his back.

Suddenly his annoyed look was gone. A soft smile replaced it as he saw my distraught eyes. I hadn’t slept a single second since my nightmare. Wrapped in his strong arms, I immediately felt relieved, knowing that nothing would ever happen to our son or me as long as we were close to him.

„Oh baby, I’m sorry. If I had known that it was that bad, I would’ve come sooner.“ He tried to coax me. But instead, his words brought anger. „You knew how serious I was, Jason! I have no idea why you keep denying my troubles. Don't you remember how we met? A dream brought me to you, and every time, you don’t listen to me after one of my dreams, exactly what I dreamed happened!“

„But you heard nobody in the house, right? So maybe this time, it was just your papa bear worries?“ My eyes shot up, I looked straight into his, ready to murder him. „How about I cook breakfast, and you cradle our baby boy a little bit longer? Sounds good?“ Instantly backing down, trying to get back onto my good side.

Jason is a strong, headstrong, secretly romantic man, but he's also useless with feelings. Because for a long time, it was just him, and others were never really his business. He got better over the years. But even now, sometimes, he forgets that he isn’t alone anymore. With that comes the primary fear of me kicking him out of our bedroom so he could sleep on the couch. Which I would never do, but he still fears it. He loves our closeness too much to risk it.

„You better, lover boy or I would need to tell Dick that you keep many photos of you two hidden, letting him know how much he means to you.“

„You wouldn’t!“ He immediately retorted.

„Try me, my love.“ Smiling determinedly in his direction, he gulped audibly. He accepts his fate and slowly hangs his head. After removing his mask, he pulled me to his chest and kissed the top of my head. „Come on! I know you love watching me cook.“ I could hear the slightly seductive tone in his voice as he whispered hotly into my ear.

I became bothered by it, and he knew it. „Jason, I have our son in my arms. Whatever you try, wait until we're alone, okay?“

„If you can hold it in so long,“ he cheekily answered me. We both knew that I was the weaker part. Whenever he was flexing his muscles or just looked at me in a particular way, was I riding him or letting him fuck me senseless.

With a chuckle, I pushed him out of the room, which he laughed at, just for me to follow him into the kitchen.

He brought everything out only to vanish upstairs, loudly changing clothing. When he came back down, I was pissed off and insulted simultaneously. His hair was disheveled, a tight-back shirt and grey sweatpants. These fucking sweatpants!

I tried not to show that I cared, but he already knew that before he could see me again. When I looked at him more closely, his insidiousness became clearer. They weren’t just sweatpants but short sweatpants. Showing off his cock greatly. How he can hide this monster in his spandex suit, I have no idea to this day.

„See something you like?" he asked me cockily, turning his body slightly. So the massive bulge in his pants could be seen.

I could only shake my head, unwilling to reveal my pleasure by opening my mouth and risking a groan at the stallion's look of a man. His ego was big enough already that he didn’t need me to boost it every second of the day. Every hour was more than enough.

"Luckily, you're hot," I murmured, annoyed. In hopes, he wouldn’t hear me. But his sideways smirk told me that he had heard me clear as day. „And have a huge dick.“ His smirk grew wider as the words fell out of my mouth. „Because with the bird brain of yours, you couldn’t even get half as good as me.“

Suddenly his smirk dropped, his mouth agape from shock. „Oh come on baby, you know I married you because of your looks...okay, maybe a little bit because of your funny, sometimes irresponsible nature, but also because of your cultured and intelligent brothers."

Finally, mentioning his brothers in the same breath as my attraction to him was enough. Once again, a devilish smile crept on his handsome face. He slowly stalked in my direction, ignoring the start of our breakfast, now behind him. His eyes were only on me, not even registering that our son was still in my arms.

„Jason!“ I whimpered as I saw the hunger in his eyes. He suddenly snapped out of it, his eyes wandering from mine to our son’s. He carefully took him out of my arms and let me sink to the ground. With heavy breathing, I looked straight at the floor. Unable to hold my pent-up lust hidden any longer. But as I looked back up again, my husband's eyes were darker than before. Only then I realized that I was on eye level with his crotch, which was growing by the second. Other than I thought, he did not push his shorts down as his hand wandered down. Instead, he held it out for me to take. As my hand landed in his, he pulled me up. Not to my feet but directly onto his shoulder with his hand holding me in place by my ass. „We bring our son to bed, and after that, I remind you where you belong! If you ever even think that any other man, god forbid one of my brothers, could please you better than me, you will remember that this will never happen!“

I knew then that I had pushed him too far. But I also couldn't hide the lustful, cold sweat that had broken out on my skin. A low chuckle flew from his lips as he carried our son lovingly in his right arm while I, like a sack, was thrown over his shoulder. It made me feel ways I hadn’t in a while, with Jason always gone, all nights and most days, leaving me alone to care for our son. His brutish ways that forced me to love and desire him and the resulting need of mine to get this every day left me wanting him more than ever before.

He dropped me off in our son's room before putting our sweet little prince into his bed. We stood at his bed, staring at our son, who slept through everything peacefully, even the sun. „He has his sleep from you, a bomb could get off, and you wouldn’t wake up.“ I taunted my husband further. Only this time, a warm smile appeared on his face.

„And he has your beauty!“ He replied lovingly, now looking directly at me, but I couldn't meet his eyes... I was too embarrassed. „Don’t look away from me, my love. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon. But your golden heart made me fall for you, as well as your need to fight me, it is never easy with you, and for that, I love you even more!“ He held my face in his hands while professing his love to me once more.

We both know the real reasons why we fell for each other. Yes, our first point of attraction was superficial, but it quickly faded after I saved his life. We met like that many times, and every time I saved his ass whenever he needed it until finally, I blew up and ordered him to meet me on a date. When I saw him come into the café on the day of our date, he didn't come in his costume, as I almost feared, but he was wearing regular clothes. I saw him for the first time as he usually looks. I'm not ashamed to confess that all the air was out of my lungs. He was so handsome that it literally punched the air out of me.

He was also in awe, as he always was when he saw me. It was love at first sight, and every time we saw each other, it was like the first time. Our date wasn't perfect, but I liked him enough to order a second date. Just for him to pull me off my feet on that date.

Together now for seven and married for three, with a son just shy over three months. In which he rarely came home. Always working or making sure our streets are clear.

Suddenly he came from behind, engulfing me again in his strong arms. „Jason, you have to be home more often.“ I declared rather calmly.

"I know I've spoken to Bruce about this already. He will decide soon. But tomorrow will be my last day for a while, so I can at least be here during the nights and evenings." Relaxed, I let my body fall back into his muscular chest. „But now I will ravish you, little brat. I can't believe that you would get this bad! You missed not only me, right?“ His dick again got hard as he rutted it between my clothed cheeks.

„Then do something about it, big guy!“ I knew that challenging him was a bad idea. Still, he was so quick that it scared me for a second. He was carrying me like the day of our marriage.

Not long after we finally reached our bedroom, he threw me ceremoniously on our bed, already getting his shirt over his head. He just stood there and gave me time to take in his magnificent body.

„And if you are a good boy, I will even let you touch me!“ He told me his right hand slowly moved down his chest and defined stomach while using his other arm to flex his biceps. I was already drooling for this man. There is a reason why I married him, after all. And he is a lover that nobody could compete with.

But as I tried to move, he stopped me immediately. Ripping my sleeping clothes from my body before he bound me to our bed with my ripped shirt. „Please, Jason, let me touch you!"

„Only good boys are allowed to touch, baby. And you already messed up calling me by the wrong name.“ Mimicking my pouting or making fun of me, he told me that while also tracing my bottom lip with his pointy finger.

He showed me what he had in stock for me, something he loved to do to me and I hated, but I was not there to fill his ego whenever he wanted, so I opted to say nothing. With a determined look on my features, a smirk suddenly appeared on his sinful lips, making me question my decision for a second just as his thumb entered my mouth. Knowing it was a part of his play, I got a smirk on my own. He caught it too late. I quickly bit his thumb until I could feel my mouth fill with this iron taste of his life liquid.

He did not flinch, move, or react in any way. The smirk was still on his face. Only his eyes darkened a bit. „Now you did it, you little brat!“ He suddenly growled at me.

His free hand flew to my throat, pressing my airways shut. „Do you like to hurt me? Hmm, baby? Your protector, provider…“ He stopped talking even though the word was already laid on his tongue. Instead of talking, he used it to wet his own slowly drying lips. „Your superior! Now be a good boy, open your mouth, and call me by my right title.“

When I opened my mouth on command, he didn't take his thumb out but put it further down. „Good, your gag reflex is still gone. I was worried for a second there, considering how long I haven’t used you.“

Finally, he pulled his thumb out again and stared at me while waiting for something. „Please, sir, use me again. It was so long, please, sir!“ I begged him, feeling disgusted with myself. I squirmed slightly underneath him. He knew well how much I hated to seem like some submissive bitch. It is always his greatest weapon because he knows I would never deny him something, especially not when he shows me his naked upper body.

Everything after my begging was a blur. I felt him pull his shorts down, only to feel him enter me with my right leg on his shoulder. His hands, now wandering all over me, groping my toned body. At first, moans flowed out of my mouth. Like a mantra, I chanted my husband's name and title, alternating between them.

It didn't take long for my brain to be fried from his attacks on my prostate. He used long and hard pumps all the time until he finally spilled his semen deep inside me. „I wish we could make another baby!“ He whispered hotly in my ear. „I loved how weak you were… so easy to handle.“

Not even seeming to think about getting his dick out, he laid himself on top of me, his body sweaty, some pearls dropping down onto my head as he came closer. Kissing me intimately.

„You would have to wait a while.“ I told him minutes later, as I could breathe normally again. "It takes time and much energy to make another egg that I can grow for a couple of weeks so I can pull it out and let it grow outside to its fullest potential."

„It was so hot that you always locked our baby in his egg, protecting him, keeping him warm, and even sacrificing your health to give him everything he needed. I still don’t understand it fully. But to know that, my alien husband is weirder than Bruce's alien crush.“

„Thanks a lot, baby. Now can you put me loose and clean me? I really want to cuddle right about now.“ A love-filled smile sends in Jason*s direction. He suddenly blushed, carefully pulling himself out of me, as he quickly stood up, vanishing in our adjoined bathroom.

Just for a second, I closed my eyes to bathe in the smell of the only man I'd ever loved. Only to be reminded of the dream I had the night before. Suddenly my eyes opened themself. My head turned to my left side, where an old analog alarm stood. The time showed ten in the morning. Not did Jason fucked me for hours without me even realizing it. But the problem was that at the same time, our son was being held in his bedroom by this strange man.

Fear arose in my body as I felt that something wasn’t right. I pulled on the bit of clothing that bound me to our bed. Suddenly my body felt strange. The garment holding me was quickly cut open. So I could stand up again.

As my feet hit the ground, my weak legs gave way, causing me to fall to the ground. But I couldn’t give up. Instead, I pulled myself back up again. Slowly the feeling in my legs came back, but I couldn't wait that long. Throwing my body against the wall, I used it to get to my son’s room as quickly as possible.

It ended up taking much longer than I would have liked. Right outside his door, I could feel something behind the door I hadn't felt in a long time. Fear filled my entire body. With as much might I could muster, I broke open the door, startling the man I had seen in my dream. „Put my son back down!“ I screamed at him. His shocked expression quickly evolved into a shit-eating grin.

Instead of doing what I wanted him to, he pressed my son closer to his chest. Anger I've never felt before grew inside me. Out of pure muscular instinct, I stretched out my arm, and my eyes brightened, only to see a long, pointed crystal fly past my head and nearly hit the man across the room. He looked stunned but made himself ready to fight me, still with my son in his arm.

„Yeah, get Superman here too, immediately!“ I could hear my husband say, presumably into a phone. But I was too preoccupied to make anything out of it.

The strange man had heard it too, at least it seemed so because his aggressive attitude had changed drastically. His head turned and twisted before he decided what he had to do. Without any speed, he jumped out the window and protected my son with his arms. „NO!“ I screamed after him, running to the broken window.

To my horror, the man was already running down our street. Without thinking, I jumped as well, but instead of the ground, I could feel the air around me. I was flying on my own. After I saw it shocked me to my core. Instead of thinking about it, I immediately flew after the kidnapper, throwing crystals after him, which he barely reflected or jumped out of its way.

Only to suddenly feel something else in the air. Soon I could see Superman closing in quickly. Not even batting an eye, I threw a crystal against him, which went right through his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

I followed my target further. But Superman, as always, was not easy to get rid of. He suddenly stopped me by appearing in front of me. „Stop, you have to stop!“ He told me, but I couldn’t stop. How was I supposed to? My son was kidnapped! But I did not say anything. Instead, I pushed past him. At least I tried. He grabbed my arm. I threw several crystals at him, some penetrated him, got stuck in him, and others went right through his body. Problematically he was healing rather quickly.

After that, the same thing happened again, but at that point, Superman had it with me. He went right to attack me. But thanks to my crystals, he couldn't get any closer, so he used his laser eyes, which were only split by my crystals, damaging the houses around us, chopping down trees, and even destroying parts of the road.

Horror filled his eyes as he realized what he had done. So he tried to approach me, but again my crystals hurt him. So he backed down. I could finally return my attention to my target, which was already far away. Quickly getting close to the man again, I could feel Superman coming again, but this time, I did not have enough time to attack him, so I engulfed my body as good a possible with crystals. Only to be hit hard enough that I was thrown back to where I started and ended up back in my son's room, destroying half of our house in the process. All crystals I used to protect my body fell off, most shattered and unusable.

Suddenly two strong arms pulled me back before I could fly out again. „I’m sorry, babe.“ Jason whispered in my ear. Before I could feel a needle break through my skin. My vision became blurry in seconds. Superman was suddenly in front of me again as I stretched out my arm one last time.

„My son, please, you have to safe hi-him, please, Clark…. Please.“ My head thumbed against Jason’s chest. I could still hear a bit of talking and clearly hear Clark fly off, but not much after that. I soon found myself in my dreams, with a longing heart and betrayal in my head. [Masterlist]

#dc #dc imagine #dc x male reader #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #Jason Todd x male reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader imagine #x male reader imagine

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 1 year

Text

The outsiders HC

TW: murder, break ins (literally one hc in dally’s section includes these), abuse (one hc in steve’s section)

i like angst ok 😭

ponyboy

he pretends to absolutely hate when somebody asks him to read a book out loud to him but in reality, ask this man to read out loud to you and it’ll make his day.

i don’t remember where i saw this but i remember one time i saw someone say he had really bad luck and if anything bad/unlucky happened to one of the other guys they’d all call it “pony-luck”

ever since he and soda started sharing a bed, 1. he can’t sleep without someone beside him (that’s actually canon though i think?) 2. he can happily sleep without a blanket (more on that in sodas HCs

Darry

i find it sweet to think that he sleeps with a stuffed bear that one of his parents gave him as a joke present for his 18’th birthday, he never let on, but it’s one of his prized possessions

he absolutely sucked at cooking when his parents died, he had like 2 things that his mom taught him when he was younger and that was like how to bake bread and how to cook pasta right. i think it’d be funny if soda felt bad and pretend he loved pasta sandwiches for a solid month just to help darry feel better

darry isn’t very interested in dating, sure he would love to settle down and have kids some day, but he doesn’t think there’s a rush, he’ll know when the right girl comes along. all the guys tease him saying it’s cause he can’t get a girlfriend but really he’s just not bothered, he doesn’t think he needs one.

even though he isn’t interested in dating he secretly loves a good romance novel, he has a stack of them in his wardrobe, ponyboy found them one day and was traumatised by the…”spicier” moments. they still joke about it

when he and pony fight and pony goes into his room darry just kinda stands outside for like 5 minutes wondering if he should go in and apologise

Sodapop

he’s the type of person to steal all the blankets when he’s sleeping. he always ends up like a little burrito. pony once tried to bring and extra blanket to bed so he could- yk actually have some blankets but soda just stole that too.

he started having nightmares after his parents died, all three of the curtis boys did. he would often wake up in a cold sweat or crying, but he never said anything since he didn’t want to worry anyone. when he had to move in with pony he pretended to be annoyed but secretly he was happy, sleeping next to someone helped soothe his nightmares too

he loves to go for long, late night walks alone. it helps clear his mind. the first few times he got caught sneaking out darry got a bit mad with him but after they sat down and soda explained why he was leaving darry let him go. now when darry sees him leaving he just says something like “stay safe, take as long as you need. when you get back come in and say goodnight.”

sodapop curtis can play piano. that’s all. i’ve just decided he should be able to play piano.

soda does actually drink. he doesn’t tell pony, to kinda “save his innocence”. he only drinks when he and steve go out and pony isn’t with them. he used to drink when pony was there but just put his beer in a pepsi can but one time pony asked for a mouthful and soda just had to chug the entire thing.

Dally

he secretly loves to watch the sunrise. he normally makes himself a cup of coffee, goes up to the roof of bucks place and watches the sunrise while drinking his coffee. he hates the sunset though, he hates that it ends in the dark. it sounds stupid, but when the sunrise ends, it ends in light, and that kinda gives him some sort of hope? i dunno, ask him

dally is an orphan, but he just says that his parents don’t care about him. his mother died during childbirth. his father died when he was nine years old. one night there was a break in, he hid dally in a closet. while he was hiding, he heard a gunshot. he heard a car drive away and he came out. his father was lying on the floor, motionless. rather than go into foster care, dally ran away, lived on the streets. eventually he made his way to tulsa.

he plays music in bucks about twice a week to “earn his stay”. he plays the guitar.

he loves to draw, snakes mainly. but he doesn’t like to draw on paper, he likes to draw on his arms and the arm of whoever is willing. for a while he thought of becoming a tattoo artist, he’d love to. though he realised that it’d probably never happen.

Two-Bit

he’s like- scarily graceful. you’d think he’s clumsy given he’s always drinking and everything, but he acts like a freaking cat. if he drops something he just scoops it up and keeps walking without stopping. if he’s walking around the Curtis house and the coffee table is in the way he just walks over it.

he’s surprisingly good at styling hair because of his little sister (it’s canon that he has a sister right?) he always does her hair before school. whenever he’s stressed he grabs pony or johnny since they have the longest hair and just starts putting tiny braids in their hair.

he just mentally combusts at the first sign of a girl flirting with him, he’s a real flirt until a girl does something back, he doesn’t know how to react.

he normally picks ponyboy up from school, he’s just worried that something will happen to him otherwise. he sees pony as a little brother almost.

steve

this boy is obsessed with bugs and frogs. don’t ask why i have no explanation i just think he does

he’s very self conscious of his teeth, he saves everything he can from working in the DX to put towards braces

he learned to fight to defend his mam from his dad, even when he was little his dad would hit his mother so at like 7 he asked Mr. Curtis to teach him boxing because he wanted to be like “Sonny Liston” (famous boxer at the time) but in reality he wanted to fight back for his mam. eventually she left, she wasn’t able to take steve with her.

Johnny

allergic to peanuts.

he befriends all the stray cats and dogs in tulsa. or at least the ones that appear in the lot.

he and pony have weekly sleepovers, even when they were really little. they only ever went to Johnny’s place once, but after seeing what johnnys parents were like pony decided that from then on they went to the curtis’s place

he’s suprisingly good at baking, especially cookies. he’d love to own a bakery when he’s older. (poor johnny didn’t get his bakery 💀)

#darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders #two-bit mathews #johnny cade #sodapop curtis #dallas winston #the outsiders hcs #tim shepard #curly shepard

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blue-blairy · 3 months

Text

Sana Sana Colita de Rana

The cool breeze gently rustled the curtains in the dimly lit bedroom. The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of a bedside lamp, casting a gentle illumination on the two of you as you lay together in the stillness of the night.

"Sweet dreams, mi amor," Wolfwood murmured. The soft, soothing rumble of his voice carried a warmth that enveloped you in a comforting embrace. His lips brushed against your hair as he spoke, sending a shiver of delight down your spine. His fingers traced airy patterns on your back.

The day's challenges and worries seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a profound sense of security and contentment. With Wolfwood's whispered words and the sensation of his touch, you felt like you were the most treasured person in the world. The fragrant scent of a nearby bouquet of roses, mixed with the faint aroma of your favourite lavender candles, creates a serene and romantic atmosphere.

In the silence of the night, you turned your head slightly to meet Wolfwood's gaze. His eyes, reflecting the same tenderness as his words, locked with yours, and in that shared moment, the world seemed to fade into the background. It was as though time stood still, and the two of you existed in a universe of your own making.

With a soft sigh, you nestled closer to him, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a tranquil state of mind. The night held the promise of sweet dreams and a future filled with shared adventures, and you couldn't have imagined a better way to fall asleep, knowing that you were deeply loved and cherished by Wolfwood.

—

You jolt awake, your body drenched in a thin layer of sweat as you grapple with the remnants of the fading dream. The exact reasoning behind your awakening lost itself to the haze of dissipating haze of sleep. You’re acutely aware of the relentless thud of your heart and the tight grip of anxiety constricting your throat.

Your gaze shifts hesitantly towards Nicholas, who lies in a serene slumber beside you. His rhythmic, peaceful breathing and the soft cadence of his snoring highlighted his appeal, even in the dim light of the room. Silent tears trail down your cheek, and you clench your teeth as you process your emotions. Why were you even crying? You couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming about.

You rub your eyes, trying to get rid of the rest of your tears. It would do no good to keep crying, and you didn't want to wake Nicholas. His presence helped calm you, and you would prefer to not explain the reason behind your tears because you didn’t even know. However, luck was not on your side. Your partner was always perceptive to your emotions, but you didn’t know that was included when he was asleep.

He started to stir despite all your best intentions of not disturbing him, and within seconds of waking up, he was already wiping tears from your face. “What’s wrong, angel?” His voice was much deeper than usual due to just being asleep, and you could feel yourself melt a little at his touch. He was so sweet. You didn’t deserve him.

“It was just a nightmare, Wolfwood… don’t even remember what it was about... I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” That was a lie. You were not okay. Despite not remembering the dream, a heavy pit rested in your stomach and anxiety gnawed at you - but you didn’t want to tell Wolfwood any of that.

The man knew you better than that, and he sighed as he shifted to sit up. “Darling, I know you, and right now, I know that the last thing you need is for me to go to sleep. Now, is there anything I can do to help?” Wolfwood raised an eyebrow as he took in your appearance. Puffy eyes, your hands were still fidgeting with the bedsheets, a slight quiver in your lip. All tell-tale signs that you weren’t okay.

For a moment, you stayed silent. You didn’t know what exactly would help you. However, Wolfwood wouldn’t let you avert your gaze. His hand kept your eyes locked on his. Eventually, after a bit of contemplation, you spoke. “Could we… maybe go to the kitchen..? Have some warm milk?” It felt like a ridiculous request, and as much as you knew Wolfwood loved you, part of you was just waiting for him to laugh in your face for asking for such a thing.

“Of course, doll. If that would give you any amount of comfort, I’d happily do that for you.” Wolfwood got out of bed and went to your side to pick you up. A squeak of protest left your lips, but he paid you no mind. He carried you to the kitchen and set you down gently on a barstool. “Do you want anything in particular in it?”

You fiddled with your fingers for a moment as you mustered up the courage to say your request. Why was it so hard to say what you wanted? He was asking you, after all. “A little bit of honey, please..” you murmured quietly. Wolfwood gave a nod and went to grab the ingredients.

Within minutes, a mug of warmed milk was set in front of you. The undertones of honey gently wafted up to your nose. You grabbed the mug and slowly sipped at it. The anxiety was still there, but it was definitely less. “Thank you, Nico…”

He shook his head. “No need to thank me, I’m your partner. It’s the bare minimum to support you when you’re upset.” He ruffled your hair before taking a seat next to you. “Once you’re finished, we can cuddle, or we can talk if you’d like. It’s your decision.”

You licked remnants of foamy milk off your lips. “I’d just like to cuddle if that’s alright with you.” Wolfwood hummed in agreement. “Of course, but can I say one thing and then I’ll drop the nightmare thing entirely?”

You were nervous now, and that anxiety that was ebbing away was back. It clawed at your throat, but you pushed it down as you nodded. “Yeah... I don’t mind.”

Grabbing your hands once you set down the mug, Wolfwood stared intensely at you. “Listen, something I was taught growing up… it was a saying… but I think it might help you a bit. Take it as you want…” He cleared his throat nervously, and if it wasn’t for the dim light the stove top light provided, you would never have seen the blush dusting across his face. “Sana sana… colita de rana…”

When you stared at him with blank eyes, he fumbled for a bit. “It basically means heal, heal little frog’s tail… It’s something adults would tell kids when they got hurt. It’s just a saying that I grew up with… and I feel like it could help you… because despite you not having a physical injury, you are hurt.” He tapped your chest, right above where your heart would be. “Just know that I am here to support you. You can tell me anything.”

You flushed and nodded. “I know, but sometimes it feels stupid when I get upset over something like that…”

Wolfwood scowls at that, but he doesn’t get angry. Instead, he squeezed your hands three times. “It’s not stupid to feel your feelings.” He glanced at your mug, and when he noticed it was empty, Wolfwood put it in the sink. “Now let’s cuddle, yeah?”

As the both of you crawled back into bed, you could already feel your eyes drooping. The milk had done its job, and now you were very sleepy. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in Wolfwood’s arm, and he smiled at you gently. “Te amo,” he whispered before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep himself.

#trigun stampede #trigun #tristamp #what if i just posted all of my oneshots rn #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #no use of y/n #boooo y/n #trigun maximum #wolfwood speaks spanish fight me

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