#looking back on it i think i could do him justice
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“Don’t cry.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.
requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??
Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?
One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.
But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.
You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.
Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.
“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”
“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”
“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.
The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.
“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”
He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.
“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”
“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”
You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.
“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”
You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”
He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.
“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”
“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”
You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”
He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.
“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.
“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”
You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”
“Yes, you do.”
It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.
You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.
“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”
Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”
“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”
Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”
“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”
Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”
“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”
“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.
“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”
He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.
“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.
“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.
“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”
“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”
Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.
He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.
“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”
You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.
“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”
You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”
He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”
You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.
“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”
It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#requests#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb
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m m m m maybe blanket plus yuuta plus hurt/comfort maybe. maybe 🤞
in which rika likes you because yuuta definitely, definitely does.
warnings wc 800, mention of injuries and descriptions of blood !! careful when u read <3 also i took hurt comfort literally BWHAHSAH hope i did your expectations justice nyx ily
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
“Yuuta. Yuuuuta.”
Rika’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. Yuuta winced, wishing Rika would keep it down; it was 2 AM, and no one would appreciate being woken up around this hour. But he knew that if he said so, Rika would be sad, and he didn’t want to hurt Rika and cause a worse scene.
“I’m fine, Rika-chan, really,” Yuuta murmured.
Rika growled unhappily. Yuuta, too, knew that he was lying. Although his wounds weren't life-threatening, he still needed to get them treated before they got infected. But Yuuta had just come back to this room—he was so, so tired. Sleeping in wouldn’t hurt anyone but him, right?
“Yuuta!” Rika snapped. It reverberated and shook the walls.
“Shh, Rika-chan,” Yuuta whispered hastily. “Please, our friends are sleeping.”
“Yuuta?”
Both Yuuta and Rika fell silent, alarmed. That voice certainly wasn’t Rika’s, and it most definitely came from the door.
“Yuuta?” you asked again, followed by a knock. “Are you okay in there?”
“I—I’m—I’m fine!” Yuuta yelped.
“Didn’t you just come back from a mission? Why are you here instead at Ieiri-sensei’s?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier that separated you both, but it was still enough of your voice to have Yuuta’s ears reddening.
“I was! I’m resting now!” Yuuta lied straight through his teeth, embarrassed beyond belief. In truth, he didn’t want to disturb her.
“Yuuta’s a liar!” Rika chose not to stay silent at the worst time. “Liar!”
The door swung open. Yuuta didn’t have enough time to hide a steadily growing red shirt or his pretty much the same face. The air thickened as you drew closer, and Yuuta struggled to tell if it was because of Rika or his reaction to you.
“Okkotsu Yuuta,” you said, deceptively calm. Yuuta felt the hair on the back of his arms rise in alarm. “Yuuta, don’t tell me that the stain on your shirt isn’t from ketchup.”
It was his blood, so Yuuta obediently stayed silent.
You sighed and spun around to leave the room. Yuuta’s chest ached as he watched you leave. His lip trembled, and he looked over to Rika, who seemed to be giving him that same stare of disappointment.
Yuuta shrunk in on himself. “I think I made Y/N mad…”
“Stupid Yuuta,” Rika trilled. “Yuuta is an idiot!”
“I know, I know,” Yuuta cried. “I get it now.”
As he was preparing to wallow, Footsteps emerged once again. You burst into the room with a first aid kit and a stern glare that made the protests die on Yuuta’s tongue. Strangely, Rika was silent.
“Let me see,” you demanded.
Yuuta’s face flamed with embarrassment, but he obliged and tugged on his shirt. Most of the injuries were cuts on his torso that would surely hurt once he showered, but again, it wasn’t anything worth all of this. He braced himself for the stinging pain once the cotton grazed his open wound, but instead, he found himself too flustered by your proximity to even notice you were already working on his wounds.
The room was dead silent, save for Yuuta’s labored breathing. Rika had disappeared; Yuuta chalked it up to him not being in danger anymore.
“Yuuta, if this happens again, come to my room, okay?” you said softly.
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. I’m asking you to.”
Yuuta deflated. “I can’t just disturb you.”
“I want you to disturb me.”
What a dangerous thing to say. Yuuta’s gaze went sharper. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” Your touch was too gentle. You faced Yuuta’s gaze head-on, fearless. “And you would do the same for me. Aren’t you the one being unfair?”
Yuuta sighed. He could never win when it came to you, anyway.
“Thought so,” you mused, carefully pulling his shirt down again. “You should learn how to ask, Yuuta.”
“I’m trying,” he muttered.
You tugged on the blanket folded neatly by his side and draped it over his shoulders. The heat of your touch remained in the blanket's warmth. When you stepped back to grin proudly at your work on a flustered and helplessly endeared Yuuta, you then frowned.
“Hey, where’d Rika go? I thought she wanted to share the blanket.”
“I think she wanted you to share it with me,” Yuuta said before he could think about it.
“Oh.” You blinked. “Is that so? Well, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”
Liar, he could hear Rika’s voice. Well, he never denied it.
Yuuta laid down carefully and lifted an arm from under the blanket. You crawled inside and settled beside him, launching into a ramble about how you were worried sick when Yuuta didn’t return early. He still struggled to ask for what he wanted, so he would settle for this.
#606: 5K EVENT#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jjk imagines#yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x you#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta okkotsu x reader
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Hi!! I really love your work and congrats on getting 500 followers!! i was wondering if you could write #83 with mattsun?? thank you!!
yes yes yes i love this prompt fhjdkjkhlj i hope i do it justice
500 follower special: #83 “It’s always been you.”
mattsun x gn reader, friends to lovers, party setting, language, not proofread
written content masterlist
They picked a bathroom to hide in, them and Matsukawa. Outside the closed and locked bathroom door, is a crowd of drunk people listening to loud, bad music with the lights off. But inside that small, cramped bathroom, they sit with their back against the edge of the bathtub, legs stretched out towards Matsukawa, who leans against the opposite wall, his legs resting on top of theirs.
They like it better like this. When it's just them.
"Oikawa's gonna be mad at you," they say casually, holding a plastic cup up to their lips as they speak, trying to hide their self-satisfied grin. "This is the third person he's tried to set you up with that you've bailed on."
Matsukawa snickers, arms loosely crossed over his chest. Out there somewhere is his 'date,' probably bored and probably looking for him. They almost feel bad for whoever it is. They would feel worse if Matsukawa hadn't explicitly told Oikawa not to do this again.
And maybe they're just a little too overjoyed that he's here with them, again, instead of Oikawa's matchmaker experiment, to feel bad. Maybe their chest is fluttering at the idea that they're Matsukawa's first choice for company.
"Who cares? He's always up in arms about something," Matsukawa shrugs. "He'll get over it."
There's a knock on the door. Three loud, impatient bangs. "Occupied!" they call out to whoever's on the other side, not looking away from Matsukawa as they do.
From the other side, there's a groan, and retreating footsteps. Neither one of them feel too bad; they've got several other options, in a house like this.
"What about you?" Matsukawa asks, nodding his head in their direction. "Didn't you ditch the guy you came here with?"
That they do feel a bit bad for. The what's-his-name they showed up with seemed nice enough, they figured. And they had resolved before showing up to this stupid party that they would at least make an honest effort to stay by his side for the majority of the night.
But all it took was one look at Matsukawa from across the room, and they abandoned all of their resolve. All he had to do was smirk, and they were trailing behind him, obedient.
It always ends up like this. Just them.
"Eh," they respond with a shrug of their own, placing their cup on the floor beside them. "I don't think he's really my type."
Matsukawa scoffs. "You say that about everyone. I'm starting to think no one's your type."
Heat creeps up their neck. "Yeah, well you reject every-"
There's more knocks on the door, these ones more aggressive. Matsukawa lifts a leg off of theirs and jams the heel of his foot into the door. "Occupied," he says, voice low and not too concerned.
"Oikawa's looking for you two fuckers," the voice from the other side of the door, and they immediately recognize it to be Iwaizumi's. "And if he keeps annoying me about it, I'm gonna tell him where you are."
"Got it," Matsukawa calls back, eyes still heavy on them as he speaks. "Thanks Iwa."
They can hear Iwaizumi scoff as he retreats. Matsukawa gestures for them to continue. "Go on," he instructs.
"I was just saying," they continue, almost wishing they didn't have to; it's a dangerous line of conversation, "you can't really talk, since you've turned down every single person that's ever been interested in you."
And there's this sort of shift in the way Matsukawa looks at them. He lowers his gaze, and he leans forward, just a touch. "Have you ever thought," he starts, his voice shooting right through them, "that maybe there's a reason for that?"
They're not sure if their desperation for him is making them imagine something that's not there, for if there's a new light in his eyes, that he's looking at them differently. They swallow. "You're picky, is what I always thought."
Matsukawa sighs, and leans back against the wall. "Nah, you're way off."
"Well, then tell me," they insist, and now they're the one inching closer. There's a light knock on the door once more. "Fuck off," they spit out unceremoniously. "What's the reason, Issei?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Why do you wanna know so bad?" he questions.
Their face flushes, and they suddenly feel caught. They force themself to relax, shoulders slumping. "I mean, I dunno. I guess it's just...interesting."
Matsukawa removes his legs from theirs and sits cross-legged in front of them, inching closer. "What's so interesting about it, then?"
The small space of the bathroom suddenly feels much hotter than it did before, like the bright, yellow lights are heating up and burning them. Matsukawa does not once look away from them. "Is it so bad to wanna know things about you?" they question, unable to think of anything else reasonable when he's looking at them like that.
He looks over the details of their face, eyes roaming from the bridge of their nose to their shinning eyes to the curve of their lips. They feel like they can't breathe, when he looks at them like that. "I guess not," he answers softly and evenly. "It's you."
Their mouth feels like it's full of sand. "What?"
Matsukawa reaches forward and loops his fingers around the belt loops of their jeans, and he pulls them closer, sliding them against the tiled floor until their nose almost touches his. The sudden proximity makes their breath catch in their throat.
"I don't want them because they're not you," he says, eyes lowered.
Their eyes are wide and fixed on his, heart beating rapidly in the base of their throat. And they've lost all grip on their thoughts, head now full of buzzing static. All they can focus on his Matsukawa, and the way their body reacts to him.
"The reason I reject everyone is you," he tells them. "It's always been you."
For a moment, his words hang in the air. They don't settle in. They won't really settle in for a while. All that matters to them now is the way Matsukawa is looking at them, eyes intense and unwavering, "Issei," they finally breathe out, able to manage it because his name is one of the few comprehensible thoughts spinning in their head. "I want you."
The words come from them without much consideration of their meaning or implication, but it's true. They do want him. They've always wanted him. And it doesn't take much else for Matsukawa to smirk, and reach his hands up to cup their face, gently pulling them in closer.
And then-
"You two!" Oikawa's voice from the other side of the door rings out, accompanied by his fists slamming against the wood. "I am so sick of you two! Get out here and socialize with everyone else for once! God, with the amount of them you guys have been hiding you better've hooked up by now!"
Matsukawa doesn't even react, like he doesn't even hear the words of his friend as his eyes flutter shut, and his lips finally crash against theirs.
an: another one down....im afraid i'll be writing these forever......(also first time writing mattsun pls let me know what u think im afraid lmafo)
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @michivrse (complete form linked in navigation to be added pls, send me a msg if you would like to be removed)
(my first time remembering to tag ppl in written content <3)
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#hq x you#hq#mattsun x reader#mattsun x yn#mattsun x you#matsukawa issei#hq matsukawa#matsukawa x reader#matsukawa fluff#haikyuu matsukawa#matsukawa issei x reader#matsukawa issei x yn
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YOU OWE ME SOMETHING - AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER.WIFE.VELARYON.
Summary: when your husband arrives late at night soaked and silent, you ask him to tell you what happened. Upon hearing his story, your marriage breaks up and you no longer want to know anything about him.
words count: 2.455
Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, blood, abortion, mentions of knives, threats, my first language is not English so I'm very sorry if there are any grammatical errors, if you see any please let me know.
well, I didn't like this so much, I think I could have made it longer and better but here you go, I hope you like it (as much as I like this one-eyed guy down here, although Lucerys' death hurt me so here I take it out on him hahahaha )
You heard the door ring, while you continued delicately embroidering a dragon on your hoop, it was a little late and it was still raining outside your window while you were waiting for your husband to arrive, he had brought a message, you didn't know who of course, you weren't told much about what was happening lately, and of course you couldn't leave your room either, at first you were afraid, and you only thought of quick ways to escape or die, not wanting to suffer too much or be a weakness for some side in the event of a war, not wanting to be a weakness for your mother and your family, no one told you anything but you weren't stupid either, King Viserys was dead, you were sure.
- Why do you stay at the door, my prince? - you asked without looking up, but when you didn't receive an answer you looked ahead, looking at your husband, who was standing in the door frame soaked, looking at the floor, almost as if he was afraid to look at you - oh Aemond, you're soaked, you'll get sick, love...
You quickly got up from the chair you were in, well, fast enough that your pregnant belly allowed it, already big enough to bother your back when walking just a few steps, you grabbed a skin that you had on the bed while You put her on his shoulders, caressed his arms a little while trying to look up at his one eye, but he still refused to look directly at you.
- You should be sleeping, dear wife, it's late - he told you, his voice was so low that you thought you had never heard Aemond speak with so much... Regret? - Sleeping poorly cannot be good for the baby.
- What happened Aemond? Why do you come like this? - you took his cold face in your hands, making him finally look you in the eyes, and when he did you hesitated a little, his only eye looked at you with a thousand apologies, you were afraid to ask what had happened - what happened there Aemond?
He was silent for a few moments, wondering what he should do, hiding the truth from you wouldn't be good, you would find out sooner or later, if you came in through someone else it would be much worse, and he didn't want to deceive you, you were his wife and you trusted him, he had to explain the truth to you, even if he was afraid.
- I didn't have control, Vhagar didn't listen to me anymore - he tried to explain while his voice trembled, you had never heard him like that, his voice wasn't strong and confident like always, he seemed like another person - I tried to make him obey me but He had simply started doing what he wanted...
You held his face tightly again, so that he knew that you heard and understood them, although for some reason you felt more and more afraid of knowing what had made him this way, you were afraid of knowing what had happened.
- I didn't want that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted, Y/n, I swear on my life, I swear on my love for you - he began to speak desperately, holding your hand tightly this time - I wanted justice, I just wanted him to feel what I felt, nothing more.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? What do you want to tell me? Who is it? - You started to get scared, you had rarely heard the word revenge from your husband's mouth, but that revenge always referred to the same person, he didn't answer you and out of nerves you screamed - Who are you referring to? What happened out there, Aemond?
He lowered his gaze to the ground again as he began to delicately explain.
- when I went to leave the message for Lord Borros, another dragon arrived - you listened with fear, you didn't want to imagine anything but everything seemed to point towards a misfortune - I asked him, I asked him to do it himself, I just wanted him to lose what I also lost.
- Who are you referring to? -
- my mind disconnected, we both rode our dragons, I chased him, my mind disconnected, I only thought that they should pay for what they did to me - You started to cry and squeeze his hand tightly.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? -
- and Vaghar stopped listening to me, he stopped doing what I wanted, that was not what I was trying to do, you should know, everything happened so fast that I couldn't do anything - you let go of his hand as you took a few steps away and screamed loudly, placing one of your hands on your belly that was starting to hurt.
- What happened, Aemond, what did you do? I'm demanding that you tell me who you're talking about -
- Lucerys Velaryon is... He's dead, love, I'm so sorry -
Your eyes opened in horror and you felt your throat burning, you felt the burning run from your throat to your belly and the pain became more and more unbearable.
- what did you say? - You wanted to believe that your ears were deceiving you, but Aemond's look left no room for doubt - I asked you, What the hell did you say?
- He wasn't supposed to die... - He took a step towards you and you didn't even move, you looked at him with eyes full of disgust and loathing - I'm sorry, lov...
Then your sobbing interrupted him, you couldn't stand the pain that coursed through you any longer and you knelt on the ground, both hands on your belly that was throbbing with pain, until you heard Aemond's footsteps and looked at him from the ground with red eyes and crazy, while he also knelt in front of you, although a few steps away
- You killed my brother, my little brother... - you cried while Aemond tried to take your hand in his, but you moved further away, pointing towards him accusingly - you promised me, you promised mercy, you said you would never murder to someone I loved but look what you've done.
- I explained to you that that was not what I wanted, you have to...
- But you interrupted him again, there was no longer a trace of gentleness or understanding in your voice.
- And what does it matter what you wanted or not? Hmm! - you asked aggressively, then you moaned again because of the pain in your stomach - you know what I think, husband? I think you are a liar, deep down this was all you wanted, the death of the person who took out your eye and with it your pride, tell me, did your eye magically return to you?
He saw you as if you were a completely different person, and you were sure that you were completely different now, you couldn't be the same after hearing what he had done to your younger brother, you quickly looked down at his belt and noticed the dagger that was there, you quickly took it and since he was so distracted he couldn't stop you from taking it in your hands.
- If you wanted an eye from the Velaryon family so much, why didn't you tear it from me? - the scream echoed through all the walls of the room while you cried even more, pointing the dagger towards your eye - why didn't you take my life before Luke's?
- Don't say that, love, put the dagger down, okay? - he whispered with fear, you had never seen him like that, and he had never seen you like that - I didn't want to kill that bastard...
The nickname "bastard" left his lips almost unconsciously, and he instantly regretted having said it, you began to get up with difficulty, the treatment was to help you but you pointed the dagger at him.
- If you touch me, I will cut your hand off - you looked at him with rage merging with the tears in your eyes - and then you can chase me, mock me and torment me until my death, you can live obsessed with one more revenge that will not grant you more than hate.
When you finally got up you felt the pain so strong that it made you even hunch over but you ignored it to see your husband on the floor again.
- If you call those children bastards you will also say it for me, how dare you insult my brothers even after having murdered one of them? With what right do you speak about my family? -
- Don't hate me, Y/n, that shouldn't happen - he got up from the ground too, with much more ease than you - but your brother owed me something, and you can't deny that, let's not distance ourselves over this matter, I'll tell you I said how sorry I am.
- Didn't you say the same night you lost your eye that that sacrifice for a dragon was worth it? You were so obsessed that you ended up without an eye for claiming a dragon that didn't even belong to you, and it happened to you again, Aemond, you became so obsessed with that damn revenge that you sacrificed a happy life with your wife for her - you began to slowly approach the door, trying not to let Aemond notice - because this I swear to you Aemond, I will die before I love you again, I will stick this dagger into my heart tonight if it means I don't have to pretend to love you again for the rest of my life. You pointed the dagger at your heart this time, he was worried but froze when he heard what you said next.
- or I will stick the dagger into my belly and kill the baby, just to make sure that I will have nothing more to bind me to you in this miserable life - this time you pointed the dagger at your belly, he looked at you as if you were crazy - because I assure you that I will never allow you to touch me again, Aemond.
And with that you opened the door and ran out of the room, Aemond watched the guards move quickly and shouted at them.
- Don't you dare touch her - then he looked at the ground and noticed the blood that left a path behind you - Y/n, the baby.
You ran, thinking quickly, you had to look for your dragon and leave here, you had to go to dragonstone to return to your family, you couldn't stay in this place, not next to the people who only wanted to kill your family for revenge and power.
You saw the stairs leading to the main courtyard and began to run harder towards them, and even faster when you heard Aemond's quick footsteps behind you and his cries of your name. When you reached the first step of the stairs you felt your feet get tangled together with your long nightgown, the dagger fell from your hands while you felt your skin being crushed against the hard steps, your head hit the ground hard while your belly hurt more than ever, your eyes began to close.
- Y/n -
you heard Aemond scream before you fell into the darkness of your faint.
------------------------
When you woke up you were in your bed, in the room you shared with Aemond, he was sitting in a chair sleeping, you tried to get up but even that simple noise woke him up.
- Don't move, my wife, you are very weak - he looked at you sadly and you simply looked away from him, you couldn't forget what he had done, and you didn't even want to see him - the baby.... The baby died Y/n.
You wanted to feel sad, but you didn't, on the contrary, you felt relieved to not be carrying Aemond's child in your womb, and that idea only made you feel like a monster, the baby you had once loved so much now felt like a hindrance, something that your worst enemy had left you and that you had managed to get rid of.
- He was a beautiful boy - he whispered when he got closer to you, now you saw him with hatred in your eyes.
- I don't want to listen to anything you say to me, Aemond, I don't want you to talk to me - he felt hurt again, he had hoped that this whole fight had passed, he didn't want to be like this with you but you no longer care what he wanted or not.
- My mother is very sad, she will surely come to visit later - you rolled your eyes and looked at the ceiling of the room.
What did Aemond expect from you? The love you felt for him was slowly poisoned until it became the purest hatred.
- I don't care about your mother, she is a traitor and a liar, I don't care about your drunk and debauched brother, nor your sister either, too naive for this world, I don't care about you, Aemond, murderer, you are full of blood and now You don't mean anything to me - Aemond's heart broke when he heard your poisonous words, he never imagined that you would say something like that to him.
- Your brother owed me something, Y/n, don't judge me after seeing everything he took from me -
- my brother took one of your eyes, you took both of his eyes, since they are of no use to him now, in fact, you took away his entire body, you stole the life of his dragon and him too - you began to list, your voice was lacking of emotions - now it seems to me that you owe him something, but since he is not here to exact his revenge, I will take that role for myself.
He opened his eyes tiredly as he sat back down in his chair, you turned to him and he could swear he saw fire glow in your eyes.
- I will escape from this place, Aemond, I will go far away from here and I will wait for the perfect moment to exact my revenge - the both of you looked into each other's eyes and couldn't believe how much everything changed in a single night - because now you owe me something.
#aemond imagine#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#hotd x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd
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IDOL [ ROCKSTAR!READER ]
[ gn!reader ] wherein jason becomes the rockstar's gf
wc: 1432
AN :: there is an mcr and a fob reference here and both keep staring at me like a sore thumb
For a split second, your mind wanders off. Suddenly, you’re thinking about how you didn’t have a clue as to how Jason puts up with you.
Between the late-night practices and you cooping yourself in the studio all day, You feel like you don’t give him enough of your time. Somehow, though, he pushes through, and he makes it work. He meets you halfway. He said he wouldn’t trade you and your dreams for the world.
He’s funny. You love him.
Your mind snaps back to where you once were—on the stage. You feel a ringing in your head as you feel heat radiating off your body. The colorful lights blind you. Your shoulders hurt like hell from the weight of the guitar, and you feel winded as your lack of breath control and the previous song had knocked all the air out of you.
Despite all your qualms, though, you love doing this. The adrenaline courses through your blood and comes a rush you find for almost every night.
“Alright! You guys having fun so far?” The crowd cheers, buzzing with energy and alcohol in their veins.
You skim over through the faces in front of you. Some are ones you’ve seen before. They tend to attend your sets regularly, but many, though, were faces you didn’t recognize.
Most of all, however, you see Jason with a friend by his side, quickly catching your brief gaze on him. He stands right beside the platform of the tiny performing venue. He gives you a nod with a straight face.
You feel a surge of excitement just from his gaze on you, and you feel that energy course through your blood.
“Keep that energy up! We’re not finished just yet!”
As your bandmates adjust their effects, retune their instruments, and do one last mixing of sound for your closer, you regain your sense of clarity amongst the smell of booze that lingers throughout the venue. You shortly shot Jason a smile and a nod before readjusting your mic and redirecting your focus to the crowd.
“Now, before we sign off, I wanna thank you all for seeing us tonight. I really hope you guys enjoyed our set.” The crowd quiets down, almost dead. You take it as a sign to get it going again. “But come on now—let’s get this on!”
You breathe in once, breathe once out. It’s the first time you’re debuting this song. You rehearsed for this, but you doubt it's enough. You're scared you’ll blank out in the middle of the song, then fill it with random riffs. You’re scared you’ll sing the demo version and forget your final. You’re scared you might just not do the song any justice.
It’s the final song of the final night of your tour. You were not in the mood to mess this up.
Yet you pause for a moment. How much more in love could you be? Because suddenly, your thoughts are filled with him to calm yourself.
You catch him in the corner of your eyes once more, and you faintly hear a ‘Woo!’ from his direction.
Hell, this final song is about him.
He’s heard it, but he has no idea that you’re playing it tonight.
“Do you want to live forever?” You ask the crowd as the instruments start to set themselves up. “Sing this with me then.”
The song gradually swells, with the drums and bass starting out the song, looping the intro for a few rounds before the guitars join in. You harmonize with the main melody of the song, making up riffs as you go.
You feel yourself building the song, getting into the zone, and even doing a call and response because why the hell not?
Before you let the performance take over, you quickly slip in a “This one’s for him. Hi, Jay.” You look in his direction and wave.
He’s awestruck, enchanted.
You see him quickly follow your gaze and smile. You seem to have caught him off-guard. You’re sure he’s picked up on the instruments and the vocals. He’s smart, far smarter than you. You’re sure he knows what you’re about to play.
The song ends as fast as it starts. You forget that sometimes when you perform on stage, it’s like you’re on autopilot. This was precisely that, but in the best way possible. You feel your body carry the work while your mind can sit back and watch the scene. For a split second, you even ran closer to the crowd during the final break to hold them, grab on your arm.
Everything had passed by so quickly that you couldn’t even register that it was over. Not until the crowd began to mellow down, but not without an applause.
“Thank you all so much!” You smiled and waved goodbye before your roadies rushed to the stage to gather your equipment.
You look over to the side to find Jason. He’s gone, but that’s more than alright. You figured he rushed to help with fixing the equipment, seeing his size and all. It’s something he often does when he watches your shows.
You feel your throat run dry. Maybe it’s time to steep some tea.
You high-five your bandmates before exiting the stage.
—
You didn’t quite grapple with the reality of just how exhausted and thirsty you were until you stepped off the stage. The world felt more than just shaky, so you found yourself leaning over some table in the back, chugging as much water as you could. The tea can wait.
You could faintly hear your bandmates hyping each other up and giving each other even more high fives. You stood by the sidelines, watching them and laughing at their antics. God knew you were too drained to even think about joining them.
Still, by the corner of your eye, you see a tall figure standing next to you.
You’re always more than happy to talk to him.
“Well, hi, you.” You greeted, happy to see him.
In great contrast to your bubbly self, your boyfriend was more… frozen. He was silent, just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched you play live, so you figured that the debut of the song was what made him so giddy at this moment.
As he stood there before you, you saw him in better lighting for the first time tonight after your show. You saw the sweat perspiring from his forehead to his neck and the sweat collected on his shirt. You basked in the light that framed his face from the side, but it accentuated those bright eyes of his. You take note of that smile that he’d been wearing even before your show. It only seemed to grow bigger as the night passed by.
Fuck, he really is beautiful. You think you may not ever get enough of him.
Finally, after a few moments of radio silence, he spoke. “Shit, babe.”
“Uhuuuh?” You found yourself giggling at him.
He’s really cute. You’re in love with him.
“You guys were amazing. I can’t believe my partner is a rockstar.” Practically stars in his eyes.
“Why, thank you.” You felt yourself warming up to the hand that finds your cheek.
“You also played the song!” The hand holding your head up gently tenses with his excitement. You can’t help but laugh at him.
“Yes, we did.”
“Your closer’s always Saturday. Why’d you guys change it?”
That’s for many reasons. For one, you wanted this final night to be special. It was the last date of your best-selling tour yet. You had to do something else.
Then again, you could’ve chosen any other song that hasn’t or even rarely gets played live.
“Well, it’s not always you watch my shows—with your whole thing and our usual tour dates and locations—so I really wanted to do something special.” You hummed, leaning further into his touch. ”It’s almost your birthday anyway.”
“My birthday is still in, like, three months.”
You shrug. “It’s never too early to celebrate.”
“That’s the length of an entire season, quierde. I think it’s still early.”
“That means there’s only more gifts to come, yeah?” He half-heartedly murmurs something in agreement.
There's a comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Love?” You called.
“Hmmm?”
You got on your tiptoes, balancing your weight on his shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, yet as you set yourself down, you felt him sweep you off your feet to return the kiss.
Your tea can wait a little longer.
#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#zero's writing °｡⋆⸜ ✮
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on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).
Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere
what it's like dating john price as a civilian.
john price x gn!reader
part 1
more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad
a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3
-
the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.
hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"
he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.
the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.
when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"
"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.
the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.
he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.
"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"
"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.
"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."
"really? what's its name?"
when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.
"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.
he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.
"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."
when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"
john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."
he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.
"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.
"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.
"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"
your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."
"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.
"you're too kind."
"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."
it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.
"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."
"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."
"well, we both have that in common, i guess."
"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.
"still you!" you insist.
"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.
"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"
oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.
"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.
sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"
he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"
"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.
"i'll see you then, love."
he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price imagine#john price x you#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#rarawrites#call of duty fanfic#john price fanfic#captain john price imagine
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SHIDOU WITH AN ARTIST S/O.
YES. JUST YES.
(soz if its a bit short 🤞🤞)
PAINT ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH GIRLS.
shidou ryusei x artist! fem reader
silly lil drabble
thanks anon🫶🫶🫶
PROBS OOC
You still remember when Shidou first found out you did art, you remember him asking you to show some work you did, when you showed a small self-portrait that you painted, it looked so pretty, well you looked so pretty but it hold a candle to how gorgeous you looked in real life.
You also remember when you painted a photo of him and you as your 1 year anniversary present of being together, he was in awe. How could one paint so well??? Ryusei immediately hung your painting in his living room so he could see the cute drawing that you made for both of you.
Ryusei always told that minute he knew you did art that you were a keeper and he was right because now you were married, now you could draw and paint pictures of the both of you all the time. Ryusei loves every single picture you make that he hangs it up in your house all the time, It all that's on the wall!!!
And now here you were in your studio painting a photo of you and Ryusei on your wedding day for your upcoming wedding anniversary. Ryusei was coming home from practice like usual. Ever since he became a pro player, he has had to spend more time practising, which he hated since he has to spend more time away from you. Ryusei walked up to your art studio, which he knew you were in since you've been working on the painting for days.
"Prettyyyy." He says, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "How's the painting coming on???"
"Good, Ryu!!! I'm done painting me, I just need to finish painting you." You say, turning around to give him a quick peck on the lips.
"Mmmm, looks gorgeous, baby." He says, smirking at you. "I just don't think it'll do you justice in showing how drop-dead gorgeous you look." God, he could so cheesy sometimes.
"Oh, shut up, Ryu." You say, rolling your eyes playfully.
"Nahhh." He says, ruffling your hair as he smirk grew wider.
The day of your wedding anniversary, when you gave Ryu the finished painting of your wedding photo, well, he nearly started crying. He just can't believe that he has a wife who's as pretty as you who also makes works of art. He immediately got up and hung the painting beside the first ever picture you painted of him and you back when you were only dating. God, he was so right. You were a keeper.
#post!!#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk shidou#shidou ryusei#ryusei shidou#shidou x reader#shidou ryuusei x reader#shidou fluff#bllk fluff#my husband#🫶🫶🫶#feeding yall w 2 posts in 1 day 🤞🤞
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playlists
what a waste | "army dreamers" x kate bush
synopsis: on what would have his twentieth birthday, you visit geto's grave
pairing: suguru geto x reader
themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. death/loss.
word count: 1.3k
a/n: here's some angst bc i've been in a mood for the past few days and am allergic to being happy!
The grass is damp under your skin, the rain from this morning clinging to your clothes, the smell of wet earth lingering despite the absence of clouds in the sky. This is the closest it’s gotten to raining on this day in years, what would be a sign of late winter opening into spring, but today it just feels dreary and cold.
Sighing, you place the bouquet of lilacs - his favorites - onto the stone, careful to not cover the plaque adorning the granite. At this point you could recite it in its entirety without needing to see it, the words burned into your mind from the countless days you spent reading and rereading it, hoping that the shape of the characters would finally make it sink in.
Suguru Geto
Cherished and loved.
The epitaph still feels halfhearted, empty. Even though you and Satoru spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, everything you came up with felt hollow, unable to capture his essence. You wanted to do him justice, but you just couldn’t; he’s more than a plot of land and some words engraved in stone.
Of course, it’s a moot point: the grave is empty, anyways. After the fight against Toji, Shoko had to completely destroy his body, the risk of it being used maliciously too great. A shudder runs down your spine as you picture it, the cruelty of using your best friend’s corpse for something malevolent.
Would he notice? Would it bother him to know what had happened to his flesh? What makes a person, anyways; is it the body, or is it something else? You hope he doesn’t mind what had to happen to him after his heart quieted and his breathing stilled.
Are you at peace, Suguru?
You can’t help but wonder if, after everything, death brought him a respite from the pain he endured while alive. You knew the nature of his cursed technique, the necessary consumption of evil; in absorbing it, did it make him, too, evil? Was he plagued by the darkness he was destined to destroy?
You hope not. Despite the wickedness he witnessed, he nevertheless dreamed, hoping for a brighter future.
–
“What did you wanna be when you were a kid?” you ask through a mouthful of ramen.
Suguru sits across from you in the booth, forearms resting on the table as he eats his lunch. “What do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head ever so slightly.
“What did you want for a job? There’s no way you wanted to be a sorcerer,” you chuckle. “Like, I wanted to be one of those people who makes the cool brick patterns along sidewalks.”
He holds back a laugh at your answer. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I ever really thought about it.” He pauses, taking another bite of his food. “But I guess if I had to pick, probably a musician or something, maybe guitar, I always liked how they could make something sound beautiful with just their hands,” he muses softly.
“I could totally see you on a sick guitar,” you grin.
“Yeah, but I got my cursed technique too early. I never really got a chance to do anything but this,” he shrugs. “Maybe in another life.”
“Maybe,” you smile.
–
Now, the guitar you picked out for him, an acoustic one crafted in dark wood, sits in the back of your closet collecting dust. You were supposed to give it to him for his birthday. He was supposed to play it. He was supposed to be here, be alive, be celebrating with you.
Pain shoots up your palm as you look down, realizing your hands have been clenched into fists, your nails beginning to draw blood. Shaking out your arms you take in an uneven breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself.
All the things he never got to do.
“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper to yourself, placing a bloodied hand over the grass covering his grave.
He should be here. He never even got to turn twenty, never got to have kids or the family he wanted, hell, he was just a kid himself when he died. Just a fucking kid.
–
“That…that can’t be right,” you stammer. “There’s no way.”
“I’m sorry,” Satoru places a hand on your back, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I - fuck - I couldn’t save him. I was too late.”
“No, no, no, no,” you begin to spiral, gaze rapidly shifting over the ground as you process his words.
Suguru was dead. Killed by a man named Toji Fushiguro, trying to protect the Star Plasma Vessel, the one who was supposed to assimilate with Master Tengen.
“I don’t…I don’t know what happened,” Satoru chokes out, “But…I saw his body. He’s gone.”
A scream echoes down the corridor - was it yours? Everything feels far away as Gojo wraps his arms around you, sobs racking your body as you cry into one another.
–
Shaking your head, you wipe the tears that have begun to fall as you remember the day you lost him. Despite the years that have passed, you remember it like it was yesterday, the way the setting sun covered you and Satoru as the night air came in, unable to move from that spot as you wept together.
The sickest fucking part was that it didn’t even matter.
When Riko Amanai, the Vessel, was found dead, they just got a replacement, another body to stand in for Master Tengen’s needs. They told Suguru to protect her with his life and he did, but ultimately the loss of hers was inconsequential to the upkeep of Jujutsu society; just as one flower died they plucked another.
But they couldn’t regrow Suguru’s soul.
–
Four men.
That’s how many it took to carry his body from the basement of Jujutsu High. You watched in silence as they passed you, unspeaking, unwavering, unbothered as they bore his weight.
It feels wrong, somehow, like he should be heavier. He always had this gravitational pull, this universe-sized soul that drew everything to him - shouldn’t they be able to feel that?
How heavy is a body? How heavy is the grief it carries?
–
“Hey,” a voice pulls you back to the present, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky as you ground yourself, idly tugging at the dirt beneath you. “I’m glad to see you,” Satoru greets warmly as he walks across the graveyard towards you.
Since the last time you saw him he’s aged, the creases around his eyes deeper than a twenty-year-old’s should be, an air of sadness clinging to him like wet clothes after being caught in the rain.
“You too,” you smile as he sits next to you in the damp grass.
Neither of you explicitly make plans to see each other here every year, yet you both tacitly know you wouldn’t miss this, the annual reconvening one you simultaneously cherish and dread. Suguru deserves to be celebrated, but it’s also a reminder of the time he didn’t get, the birthdays cut short when his life was stolen from him.
The two of you sit in silence for a while, content without speaking as a cool breeze picks up, dusk settling in.
“He should be here,” Satoru mutters, his knees tucked up to his chest.
“I know,” you murmur as you lay on your back, gaze unfocused on the darkening sky above you.
Another momentary pause falls between you.
“Did you love him?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you answer truthfully. “Did you?”
“Yeah.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Satoru?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you think that was enough, that we loved him?”
He tilts his head to look down at the grave that separates you, the lilacs you brought now lightly covered in a layer of dew. Sighing, he brushes away the tears that had been forming along his lash line. “I hope so.”
“I hope so, too.”
He reaches an arm out to you, holding your hand in his as you both place your empty palms onto the dirt.
“Happy birthday, Suguru,” you whisper.
#screaming SOMEBODY SEDATE ME#q writes#drabbles#playlists#angst#suguru geto#geto suguru#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#suguru x reader#jjk#jjk fanfiction#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic
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I love your latest entries with Dusty the Deathclaw😄 So you think you could do something with Cooper where he and the reader are visiting GoodNeighbor again with a juvenile Deathclaw with them? And when John goes to welcome them back, he jumps back a bit and asking why the HELL does the reader have a Deathclaw.😂 Only for said reader to give their pet Deathclaw some affectionate horn scratches and reply
“My wasteland baby! Isn’t he adorable?”
Bonus if said Wasteland baby still has some flesh hanging from their mouth having eaten a raider not too long ago.
@odditycircus-2002 this was a fantastic Lil prompt to see after the angst I've been typing up. Thank you so much! ❤️ I hope I did this justice!
Dear Hearts and Gentle People 14
Masterlist
Warnings: blood and violence drug use too
It's been a couple of years since you and Cooper had mosied up to the Commonwealth, and with Dusty now apart of the family, you thought it was high time that you introduce the juvenile to the stationary member of your group. The deathclaw stood taller than you now but was definitely still considered young by deathclaw standards. Plus, you'd been missing John lately, and it would be good to see him again.
The beast trotted behind you, his nose close to the ground as he cattalogged the new scents around him. Cooper followed just past Dusty, his rifle out, and ready for anything that might want to lose a fight. However, it turned out that very few people wanted to tangle with a ghoul of his reputation who had a deathclaw as a pet, young or not.
"I doubt Goodneighbor will be too happy with me if we come waltzing in with Dusty. Can you stay out here with him while I go get John?" You ask your ghoulish companion once the gate to Goodneighbor appeared around the corner. Someone must have recently cleared out the usual super mutants that hung around, for it was relatively safe in the city this evening.
Cooper sighs dramatically and rolled his eyes, though you could see a smirk pulling at his lips, "Don't make me wait too long, Sugar. Might go wonderin' off without you."
You scoff, "You wouldn't."
Cooper smirks right back and leans in, "Try me, smoothskin."
You search his golden gaze, and then your lips curl up in an amused, smug grin, "Dusty wouldn't let you."
The ghoul opens his mouth to protest, only to fall silent, lips tugging down into a small frown. Shit. He knows you're right about that one. Dusty would follow you to the ends of hell if you let the juvenile. He scoffs and breaks the staring contest, "Whatever, you win."
You smile in victory and then step in front of Dusty. The deathclaw coos and grunts at you, hunching down to rub the bottom of his jaw along your shoulder and cheek, "Awe. Yeah, I'll be right back, sweetie. Be good for Coop, okay?"
Dusty is smart enough to know what you're saying but whines all the same when you press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and then disappear behind the red door. He swings his massive head around and eyes Cooper, who rolls his eyes at the baby's behavior.
"Don't look at me like that. You heard her."
The beast grunts and flops on the road, a displeased growl rumbling up and out of him. Dusty didn't like it when he couldn't scent you or feel you. His eyesight was terrible, so it left him to rely on his other, hightened scenses to track his human. A deeper, more vicious growl echos in the air when he sniffs deeply and catches the foul smell of the big lumbering mutants. They were close.
You darted through Goodneighbor, waving to Daisy and K-L-E-0, who waved back at you. As much as you wanted to stop and chat, you needed to hurry. You jank open the door to the old state house and lope up the stairs, stopping at the top floor and grinning when you catch sight of Hancock lounging on his couch, feet kicked up on the table and an inhaler of jet in his hand.
"Well, well. I come all this way, and this is the kinda welcome I get."
John jerks up on the couch, black eyes going wide as he turns and looks at you. He shoves himself off the couch and closes the distance, grabbing you by the jaw to swing you in for a kiss full of longing. You kiss the mayor back, holding tight to his red overcoat.
Your face is flushed by the time John breaks the kiss, resting his brow against your own as he takes in your lovely features. There are a couple more lines on your face and a new scar across your nose, but you're just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.
"If I'd known you were coming around, I would have had the whole town throw a party," Hancock quips with a dry laugh and then kisses you again, just cause he could, "Fuck. I missed you, Sunshine."
You hum and hold John tight, burring your face in his chest with a happy little grin, "Mhmm. I missed you too, Hancock."
The ghoul pulls away from you to take you in again. John needed to make sure that you weren't some kind of jet induced fever dream, but no. You were here in his house, with him. His hands trailed from your sides to cup your ass, and Hancock leaned down to press kisses to the collom of your throat.
"How about you show me how much you missed me then, Sunshine."
You selfishly enjoyed the attention for a moment before pulling away from him with a guilty smirk. John narrows his eyes down at you, curious.
"I need to show you something, and you've got to promise me you won't freak out," you say, and you're already tugging at his arm, leading him to the spiral staircase and out of the state house. You don't give Hancock time to process, you wanted this to he a surprise.
Outside the gate, Cooper sneers in disgust as he wipes the sole of his boot on the asphalt not stained in super mutant blood. A trio of them had attacked not a minute after you disappeared inside of Goodneighbor, leaving the ghoul and the half grown dealthclaw to defend themselves.
Not that it was a very hard fight, mind you. Cooper was well versed in violence, and Dusty wasn't a pushover either. He is shouldering his rifle when the door to the settlement opens up, and you and Hancock come waltzing out, all smiles.
"'Bout fuckin' time you showed up, smoothskin. Left me and Dusty here to clean up the big greenies," Cooper snarks at you and gives Hancock a mean grin, all teeth and hunger, "Nice to see you again, Mayor."
John hits the brake, stopping in his tracks and you with him. You grunt at the suddenness of it and turn around to look at him with a cocked brow. The ghoul stares at Dusty with a look of fear, his black eyes wide as he reaches for the shotgun he stupidity left behind in his room.
"Sunshine, that's a deathclaw," He spits, and back peddles, but you let go, allowing him to keep his distance from the golden scaled 6 foot tall deathclaw that feasts on the body of a downed super mutant. His face and entire front are soaked in gore, and the sounds he makes are enough to turn anyone's stomach as he enjoys his meal.
"Can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" You quip, and Dusty perks up at the sound of your voice. He raises his head, his horns are about halfway down his face now, around eye level. The deathclaw swings around and makes a soft cooing sound when he picks up your scent and sees the blurry outline of your figure. He lopes forward, dropping to his front claws, and you grab his jaws when he gets close enough, grinning down at him.
"You're such a good boy, Dusty. I'm glad you got a snack," you say and scratch the soft scales of his throat, "I've got someone I want you to meet."
He recognizes that phase. You have used it a couple of times before with other humans that we weren't allowed to eat. Dusty's focused on the red blob behind you. His human points to the figure, and he breathes it deeply, taking in the scent of acidic chems and warm radiation that the other ghoul carries. The deathclaw memorizes it and stores it into the cattalog of "do not eat."
Hancock is frozen the entire time, and Cooper laughs at the other ghoul, breaking the mayor out of his spell, "What's wrong, John? Scared?"
The mayor just tosses his arms at the frigging beast of death, all snuggled up to the smoothskin and snarked right back, "How about you tell me just what the hell's going on, Cowboy?"
Cooper does just that, explaining how you found him and John really begins think this is really a fever dream like he'd thought before, when there is a loud snuffle in front of him, and he is faced with the gruesome visage of the juvenile deathclaw.
You smile at him, "Trust me, John. It's fine, I promise," you murmur, and John must be crazy because he does. Hancock takes a trembling breath and faces the beast.
"Dusty, this is John Hancock. John, this is Dusty."
#cooper howard#fallout#fallout prime#fallout tv series#cooper howard x reader#x reader#the ghoul x reader#dear hears and gentle people#deathclaws#john hancock x reader#john hancock
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If you don't mind me asking
Could you please write Wally west x reader? (If not that's alright!)
I absolutely love your writing and there's so little Wally west x m!reader fanfics
Hope you have a lovely rest of your Day/Night or Evening :)
Everyone but you
Summary:
Wally notices the newest addition and his quirks, quickly finding himself attached to his hip. Pretty soon, they're attached at the lips and his best friend can't seem to notice.
Or
After joining The Team, Wally worms his little redhead into your life.
Pairing: Wally West x male reader
WC: 12.2k
TW: religious trauma, implied sex, references to child neglect, lowkey yj slander if you squint
a/n: i was close to making this longer but Im p sure tumblr has a word limit LOL
Wally saw the little things, how could he not? Life was in slow motion for him, he’d be the worst speedster to ever exist if he didn’t naturally have faster reaction times.
They’re practical, both off and on the field. Off the field, he notices when his food is about to drop onto the floor when a bird is about to swoop in and steal his food— it's good for saving his food. And you.
He remembers when you joined the team. One month after The Team was officially recognized by the JLA Bruce and Diana had shown up with you nestled in between the two of them. You were almost bored, twiddling with your phone as he could faintly hear the music through your chunky headphones as Batman explained you were the ward of Doctor Light— not the bad guy, the woman with the super cool light powers.
He’d made a stupid joke, calling you Nurse Light, not thinking you’d actually hear him over but for a millisecond he saw you smile. And a millisecond was enough for him.
The others weren’t too sure about a new team member, especially after learning that your powers were a lot like Enchantress. Powers via possession weren’t all that popular, go figure. Especially when you hardly ever spoke to anyone but your reflection.
Needless to say, your introduction to The Team was rough, especially after your first mission. It was difficult but extremely successful and everyone was going to celebrate by having a pizza party. Wally had picked them up in a minute flat, it would’ve taken less time but he had to pay in cash and when he returned everyone was still on their way to the kitchen.
But as everyone dipped inside the kitchen, you kept walking.
“You don’t want pizza?” M'gann asks, the first to notice your absence. You don’t look back as you’re giving her a thumbs down that the others frown at.
“I’ll save him a slice,” Wally was the only one to notice how your hand kept twitching as you were walking away. Rightfully assuming that you didn’t want the others to know about the quirk, he hurriedly sets out the pizza boxes on the large kitchen island.
While the others are talking over their pizza, he grabs a plate and guesses what you’d like. He ends up on one extra cheese and one pepperoni; he could always go back if you wanted more or anything else. He also grabs one of the drinks and makes his way to the dorms of Mount Justice.
Knocking once and then twice, his eyes flicker about. Unsure of what to do, he leans closer to the door.
“Ah, hey, (Y/n). It’s me, Wally, I brought you pizza.” He says, just below a shout. The door opens before he walks away and you stand there, a little frazzled. He catches several things in the span of a second. He sees how your breathing evens out, how you try and block his view of the mess you made, and how your eyes twitch. They do that whenever the woman possessing you, whom you’ve only referred to as Sculk, talks to you.
“Thank you,” But you don’t move to grab the plate until he hands it to you. He catches that the tips of your nails are suddenly sharp and a deep black color.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like but—“ He trails, his eyes finding yours again.
“It’s fine,” You nod, the smile on your face short and fleeting. “But you should return to the others. They’d like your presence more.” He doesn’t take it in a serious manner. Truly he doesn’t think you meant harm by your words, he understands that now simply isn’t a good time and you need to be alone.
“Okay, if you want more, just send down a message.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s in the elevator. You don’t look to see him, favoring having your door closed again.
—
Sculk, as no one has pointed out, is named from Minecraft, and appears to you as a bioluminescent blue ghost, covered in a fog of black smoke. She’s nice enough, aside from the constant chatter you have to endure from her. But the trade-off is good, you never get peace and quiet but you get super cool powers.
Like June Moone, finding Sculk was nothing short of an accident. You’d been young, inside the Appalachian Mountains when you stumbled across a cool-looking rock. It was black with crackles of an unnatural blue, seemingly carved to look like a fallen leaf. It wasn’t until you had returned to the car that it broke, releasing Sculk into you.
While it was cool that you had powers and spoke to someone only you could see, your family didn’t see it as such. Small-town churchgoers didn’t seem to take to the idea of possession and after almost two months you’d run away.
Self-isolation was tough, but was harder was introducing yourself back into groups of people.
“Down for a game?” Dick asks, waving a spare controller as you exit the kitchen, digging into a bowl of fruit covered in chocolate syrup. Looking at the game, you see it’s some first-person shooter game, and then down at your bowl. Your fingers are already covered in the sauce and sticking together.
“No.” You’ve never played that game, and besides, you wouldn’t want chocolate syrup on their belongings. Dick frowns at your bluntness while Conner shares a look with Artemis.
“You can just watch,” Wally offers, grabbing the remote Dick grabbed. “Or watch me.” He adds with a wink. Only his eyes catch your lips turning up into a smile before you look off for a moment.
He takes that as a win, even if you once again say no before disappearing.
—
It takes about three months after that incident for you to join the others on their game nights. That night in particular was another game you’d never seen before; you were more acquainted with board games and whatever games were on a Gameboy you found in the woods.
Admittedly, you’re frustrated that you don’t understand the controls, that your grip isn’t quite right on the controller, and that you don’t even know what’s happening. It’s a multiplayer game with one point of view, you’d picked some random character that made Wally laugh. Some blue animal with a pair of red shoes. He picked a small pink thing.
“You’re worse than M’gann!” Dick laughs, nudging your shoulder as you’re the first to die again. Everyone else laughs (was it at you or with Dick?) and you swallow your words, staring at your controller. Your eyes burn and you aren’t sure why.
It’s a learning curve, kid. Sculk reassures you and you feel her petting your head.
You felt like shit whenever you denied the others, you wanted to hang out with them. It seemed like fun. But you clearly weren’t the best company. The others are doing good, encouraging each other while also doing their best to win. They’re cheering and laughing, having side conversations in between their shouting and groaning. No one seems to notice your lack of mental attendance, you suppose it’s hardly different from when you’re there or not.
Fuck it, you should’ve just said no again. Saved yourself the embarrassment.
When you’re about to get up and leave, Wally places a hand on your arm. It was risky, in his eyes. No one has actually come into physical contact with you, as strange as it sounds.
“Pick Mewtwo next time,” Wally whispers when his character dies for the second time. “I’ll teach you the controls, just hang on.” Nodding, you watch as he throws himself off the platform and the others don’t question it. One less person to fight against. With his character officially dead, he turns his attention onto you.
“You gotta hold it like this,” He grins but doesn’t laugh at the way you hold the controller. “For max efficiency, most people hold it like this.” Following the way he’s holding it, he nods and sets his controller down. He then tells you the basic moves you need to know, explaining that for now, you need to focus on getting a grip on that before he moves on special moves.
It takes maybe four rounds before you finally win.
“You did it!” You grin when you realize that Mewtwo is the final one on the platform. Wally will never admit that he had spent the entire game making sure you didn’t die, he swears that to himself when he sees you smiling for more than a split second. How you’re much more relaxed than before, enjoying the company of everyone as they congratulate you.
The games continue, you play several others but your favorite is the volleyball game. You won that one all by yourself. Nearly undefeated, the others were fighting each other to be on your team.
“You should join us more often,” Artemis tells you as everyone decides it’s time to go to bed. Dick is in charge of putting everything up since apparently, everyone else breaks the consoles when they do. Hell, Conner had broken the controller ten times throughout the night.
“I know, right!” Wally grins, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She shrugs him off but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Perhaps,” You nod. “Peaceful night, all.” And then you’re gone.
When Wally is inside of his room he sees something on his pillow.
Thank you for teaching me how to properly play, Wallace.
-(Y/n)
He grins at the note and sets it on his desk before he pauses.
How the fuck did you put that there?
—
Admittedly, you’re much closer with Wally than the others on The Team. For whatever reason, they don’t seem to like you. Perhaps it’s a natural thing, they’ve instinctively kept their distance. Your nature scares them, perhaps. Maybe Wally’s instincts weren’t as tuned in as the others, perhaps he hadn’t looked the gifted horse in the mouth.
In truth, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of their group. But you’d missed a key part of growing up, without much time spent around others, perhaps… you came off strange. You’ve read about it before, stunted emotional growth. The inability to interact with peers.
Not with Wally, though.
He basks in the fact that he’s the only one you’ve willingly allowed into your room. It’s dark, just as your room was in the cabin somewhere in the middle of the woods. For some reason, he just knows that you hate the large overhanging lights, how you prefer the natural light of the sun but living inside of the mountain doesn’t allow for that.
Instead, his eyes flicker to the lamps around your room. Placed in odd spots that lit up the room wonderfully when they were on.
“Dick wants everyone downstairs,” He struggles to tell you, hating the fact that he’s ripping you away from your solace. That you’d been engrossed in creating a paper mache sun and moon. You look up at him, glue dripping from your hands. “There’s a mission request from Batman.” He explains when he sees that look on your face. It’s hard to explain but he knows your expressions by now.
Call him an expert or whatever, it’s just a little something- something he can do that no one else can. Not that he’s bragging.
“Thank you, Wallace.” Standing up, he watches as you use your magic to clean the mess from your hands.
“What’re you making?” He asks as the two of you walk out of your room.
“I heard that Raquel’s birthday was coming up,” You explain, picking at the skin around your nails. “Everyone likes the sun and moon, no?” It’s not intentional, at least Wally doesn’t think it is. But you’re admitting, in your own way, that you don't know much about her and you’d like to. And if they permit, the others, too.
“They’re pretty important,” He agrees, smiling over at you. “Just so you know, my birthday is January 16th and I love food.”
“Noted.”
—
Raquel’s birthday had come and passed, she was surprised by your gift but accepted it all the same. You’d given it to her when the party was over, feeling there was no proper time to give it. No one else had, so you weren’t sure what to do.
For Wally’s birthday only two weeks later, he’d been the opposite. He had a small table dedicated purely to gifts, his eyes shining brightly when he had seen a neatly wrapped box in your arms.
He’d wanted a simple cake, but it was weird. A pink cake with a white border and rainbow sprinkles everywhere, on the edge was a large dollop of green icing with what you assumed were two arms and legs, and the black icing used for the eyes was sliding off. Behind the small creature was the word Forg. He does know it’s spelled frog, right?
That’s the joke. Sculk tells you as you stare at the word with disbelief. Oh, that makes more sense. It’s funny, now that you think about it. Such a silly little icing frog.
Basking in the attention on himself, Wally dances along to the Happy Birthday song. Although he almost missed it, he caught how you watched him with a smile that lasted longer than a millisecond.
When it’s time for him to open his gift, he loves everything. The food, the gear, and the tech. For some reason, he’d waited to open yours last and for some stranger reason, you were nervous. Anxious, even.
“What is it?” He grins, ripping open the paper. Glancing at you, he winks and opens the box. Staring for a moment you worry you’ve done the wrong thing. His reaction is minimal compared to what it had been for the others. “Holy shit!” He gasps, pulling out a set of plates. There are five there and he only looks at the top one; designed to look like an orange slice. He then pulls out the plates that could also be bowls, and then the bowls.
“Where’d you find these?” He grins, looking through all of the designs. He especially loves the silly little smiley faces on some of the items.
“I made them,” You correct. “There’s more inside.” Digging inside, he pulls out various utensils. Each of them has their own design, like the alligator knife and the shell spoon. He thinks he likes the Nunchuck chopsticks the most, though.
“You know me so well!” He gushes, pulling you into a tight hug. For a moment, you freeze. Your whole body tenses but there’s something about the hug, something about him that makes you relax and hug him back.
Oh no. Sculk mutters but doesn’t explain further.
—
The moment Wally knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you like him back is when there’s a fan flirting with him. The two of you were walking together, forced to pair up by Dick and look around for possible leads. The girl, who Wally would admit is his type (everyone is if he’s being honest), clearly meant no harm by the flirting. If he was her, he’d definitely flirt with himself, too.
But all he could focus on was the fact that your nostrils flared, you looked her up and down, picking apart her appearance in your head before looking away, and then looked at Wally, trying to see if he was showing signs that he was interested.
A part of him wanted to entertain her; just to see your reaction but he didn’t. He was happy enough that you were jealous.
“I’m sorry,” Wally stops the girl mid-sentence. “It was nice meeting you but we need to get back to work.” Testing the waters, Wally places his arm across your shoulder. When you don’t move, he takes that as another win.
“I’m sorry,” The girl tucks her hair behind her ear, shrinking away. “Have a good day, Kid Flash, Ward.” Nodding, you watch as she leaves before looking at Wally.
“I don’t like her,” He says and your face nearly lights up before you relax again.
“How’d you know I was going to ask?” You ask, walking ahead to continue your search. He, of course, keeps pace and mindlessly plays with the ends of your hair.
“There’s someone better for me.” He grins, awfully close to your face. You frown, that wasn’t your question. Sculk groans loudly and you roll your eyes.
The kid is flirting fuck the question, kid!
She screams into your ear and you wince. She’s never really yelled that loud before. Is he, though? She groans louder at that thought and you feel the wind smack your head.
Wally, feeling the harsh breeze, looks behind the two of you.
“It was Sculk,” You admit and he raises his eyebrows.
“How can she use her powers without you?” He asks. “I know June Moone has control until she says Enchantress, but you don’t?” Nodding, the two of you turn a corner.
“We’re partners.” Sculk awes inside your head. “She gets to experience human life, I get powers.”
“Seems a little unfair,” He admits. “Couldn’t she just take over?”
“She can,” Nodding, you look down at your hand and flex it. It feels as if she’s tugging your hand around, moving each of your fingers. “But she’s not like the witch. She takes over if it’s needed or if I use too much at once and need her rapid assistance.”
“Like that time with the pizza…” The black nails, that’s probably the curse of her true form. He sorta hopes it’s the curse.
“Yes. Her powers are a curse that I have built up a solid immunity to, but sometimes it’s too much for me.” Your hands flicker with the reddish-purple magic Wally has grown accustomed to seeing. In the magic, he sees a bird forming and watches as it flies away when it’s fully formed.
“And if she takes over completely?” Wally looks back at you, worried about your answer. As cool as the idea seemed, he knows he’d hate it if he had to fight a possessed you. If Sculk decides she is done with Earth and tries to end it like Enchantress had done before.
“I wouldn’t know,” You admit as if it’s nothing. “Full control means the other goes dormant until the other sees fit.” It doesn’t ease his fears but he lets it go.
The main focus for him is that he’s finally gotten more than a sentence out of you.
Score!
—
“He’s so in love with me,” Wally grins to Dick, dragging out the ‘so’ while he’s working on his science homework. They’re both in Dick’s room, Wally laying on Dick’s bed while Dick is working on his laptop. Something about detective work for a case he’s working; boring with a capital B-O-R-I-N-and-G.
“Is he?” Dick asks, sparing Wally a glance. As the team leader Dick swears that he knows his teammates pretty well and you… he seriously doubts Wally is your type. He’s loud, outspoken, adventurous, and quite frankly, Dick couldn’t imagine the two of you together. When he tried to picture you dating someone, he imagined that you’d end up with someone like his father. Not his best friend.
“He told me ‘Don’t eat so fast, you’ll choke’! That’s an admission of love,” Despite hearing his own words out loud, Wally stands by his statement. Huffing, Wally officially puts his homework on pause. “He made me a full kitchen set for my birthday. He learned all the characters of Mario Kart for me. Who does he like being paired with? Me. I get him, he gets me,” He says, his voice a little smaller in the end. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for Dick and the others to understand that you’re not some type of robot or a time traveler from 1703.
It’s been a year since Wally was sure of your feelings, a year of him hopelessly falling deeper for you. A year of pure torture, honestly!
“I just want to make sure you aren’t reading into this,” Dick sighs, facing his friend. His expression is sullen, hurt that Dick doesn’t believe him. Believe that you’re capable of loving him. “I mean, how often do you talk to him? Does he talk back? More than a one-word response, I mean.” He rolls his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the tension building in them.
“Oh my god,” Wally sighs as if he’s had this conversation a million times. “Is being quiet suddenly a crime? And you never took the time to talk to him, I did. He’s very funny,” He says that last part the same way a child tells an adult that they know a secret that the adult doesn’t know.
Dick goes to talk but someone knocks on the door.
“Come in,” He sighs, their conversation officially put on pause. The door opens and Dick nearly swears you’d been listening through the vents because you stand at the door.
“Hello, Robin, Wallace,” You call, your eyes cast towards the floor. “Can we talk, in private?” Wally nods, closes his notebook, and follows after you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks as the two of you enter your room. It’s the same dark that it always is, but it’s a mess. Things are thrown about and there are burn marks surrounding an outline of someone kneeling. The door closes and you stand in front of him, eyes bleary and lip quivering.
“I read that men shouldn’t cry,” You tell him, unable to look at him as you speak. “Sculk tells me that I should cry.” You add, barely catching Wally’s eyebrows furrow.
“I cry,” He offers, guiding you to your bed. “Superman cries! Batman cries… plenty of men cry. Why are you…?” Sitting down, you scoot back until your entire body is on the bed.
“I found out my parents died.” As you say it, your face twists and you scrub your face. He frowns and hugs you. It doesn’t take more than a second before you hug back. “I hated them, they abandoned me. Called me names, vicious and foul. I shouldn’t be crying,” You ramble into his shoulder, your head shaking and his shirt getting damp.
“It’s normal to mourn,” He coos, rubbing your back. “You loved them, even if it was a long time ago.”
“I do not wish to feel this,” You admit and he nods. In truth, he doesn’t know how to help you. But he tried his best.
“When my grandfather died I hadn’t been on the best terms with him. He’d… I found out that he ran a… blog of sorts that spoke about his hatred for heroes. For the speedsters. He called us names and I broke. I stopped talking to him and yelled at him whenever he tried to talk to me. The man I knew had died that day. But when he died for real,” He sighs, staring at the wall. “I knew there was no going back,” His voice goes soft as he tries not to think about him too much.
“They should’ve loved me, he should’ve loved you.” You mutter, removing yourself from the hug. “Why weren’t they capable of loving us?” Frowning, he shrugs and wipes the tears from your face.
“It’s better that we don’t know. But you are capable of being loved. Sculk loves you, and Dr. Light loves you. I like you, Artemis likes you—“
“I doubt that,” You huff, fixing yourself before looking around your room. “I apologize for my appearance and the mess of my room. The sudden despondency caused my actions to become rash,” With a spell, your room fixed itself.
“You should see my room,” He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. Staring at him, you smile and look away. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Not that you thought he would’ve.
“Thank you, Wallace. You’re a great company, your grandfather was wrong about whatever he had talked out his ass about.”
“You cursed?” He belts out a laugh and you raise an eyebrow, snickering at his reaction.
“I am grown enough to curse, Wallace! This isn’t the Regency era!” Never did you think you’d have to defend the fact that you cursed. And yet, here you are.
“Isn’t it?” He grins. “If you had a British accent, you’d make the perfect actor for Bridgerton!”
“What is that?”
Wally, having deemed that a crime, insists that you have to watch the show. He drags you out of your room and into his. It isn’t as messy as he had led you to believe. Some thrown-around items, an unnamed bed, and empty bottles on the desk. But he quickly fixed the bed and grabbed his laptop before placing it in between his two pillows.
“Wall or open?” He asks, pointing to the two available spots. You look between them before pointing to the wall. “Hurry! You gotta watch the show!” Tugging you over to his bed, you climb in and sit with your legs crossed. He doesn’t comment on it, aside from saying your back is going to hurt if you stay like that and he lays next to you.
“What is this show about?” You ask, watching as he logs into his Netflix account.
“Uhhh,” He drags out as he’s finding the show. “During the Regency era in England, eight close-knit siblings of the powerful Bridgerton family attempt to find love.” He reads. “Season one is about one of the daughters, Daphne.” He further explains as the show starts.
Three episodes in, you somehow found yourself on your stomach, unable to look away from the screen. You’re completely engrossed in the show, the two of you missing the call for dinner as you’re on the final two episodes.
“I am Daphne and you are Simon,” You whisper as they have sex during their honeymoon. He glances over at you, a smile spreading across his face.
“I’m Daphne,” He shakes his head, his voice an equal whisper.
“Ah, yes,” Grinning, you look at him. “The red hair, my mistake.” Bowing his head into his arm, he snorts and leans into you.
“So we’re married?” He asks.
“Dating, perhaps,” You settle on. Play it cool, he tells himself and nods, skipping the rest of the sex scene. “Dating, totally?”
“Dating, officially.” You agree.
Suck it, Dick. Haha, get it?
—
Surely, Wally would be the one with dating experience, you tell yourself as you prepare for your first-ever date. He’d given vague details about the date, telling you to wear something comfortable but to also bring a sweater because he expects the date to last well into the night.
What even is comfortable dress wear? Wally's comfortable wear is shorts and a graphic design shirt but your comfortable wear is a good button-down and slacks.
Groaning, you settle on jeans and a white shirt. That’ll have to do. Yes. Grabbing a pair of jeans from the depths of your closet, you try to not second guess yourself again.
Tucking and untucking the shirt, you stare at yourself in the mirror.
“Sculk,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the bed. “I do not appreciate this anxiety I am feeling, please take it away.”
“No,” She laughs and you stare at her in the mirror. “This is fun, my baby's first date!” Rolling your eyes, you fix yourself again before smelling your breath. “You’ve brushed ten times. Give your human mouth a rest,” She groans and pulls you towards the door. Clinging to the wall, you feel the metal bending before she nearly tossed you out of the room and to where Wally was waiting at the elevator.
“Nervous?” He grins as you stumble next to him.
“Truly,” You laugh, trying to shake your nerves out. Looking him over, you see that he has a woven basket in his non-dominant hand. Ah, a picnic. The jeans were appropriate.
“Hi to you, too, Sculk.” He adds as the doors open.
“She says hello and that she’ll go dormant soon. Something about privacy,”
Outside, you feel the warm breeze that signals the start of summer and Wally nearly basks in it. Like a plant.
“Get on my back,” He grins, lowering himself in front of you.
“Whatever for?” You ask while climbing on. He stands up and holds onto each of your calves, his mind immediately catching that he’s never noticed your calves are built. Swallowing, he clears his throat and looks back towards you.
“You’ll see! Hold on tight,” Bracing yourself, you feel the wind nearly punching you with how fast he’s moving. In fear of losing an eye, you close your eyes and hide your head behind his. It gets a bit chilly and you can tell he’s crossing the ocean because of the sound of water being hit.
Soon enough, he stops and lets you down. When you open your eyes you find yourself on the shores of a beach with tall rocks and tall trees.
“Google said Anse Source D’Argent is the best beach in the whole world,” He explains, guiding you toward a patch of sand large enough for the blanket he had stuffed into the basket.
“It is lovely,” You agree, looking around. There’s no one around for miles. The sound of the water was damn near hypnotic and you bet you could climb those rocks in less than three seconds.
“And I know that you’ve never been to a beach before… so why not bring you to the best beach ever?” He grins, grabbing your hands to pull you over to the blanket. It’s large enough that the two of you can comfortably lie down and have space for the food and drinks.
“Thank you,” Settling on your knees, your eyes scan over the water. Watching the water roll in and get pulled back into the ocean.
“Wanna swim?” He asks and you hurriedly nod, rushing up and leaving him in your dust. He calls for you, calling you a cheater, and rushes into the water, splashing you in his wake. Diving after him, he laughs at your puffed-out cheeks and barely open eyes. Pulling you deeper into the water, you watch as the fish swim away from the two of you. Surfacing for air, you see Wally do the same, his hair clinging to his face as you’re sure your hair does the same.
“Why do you do that?” He asks, mimicking your puffed-out cheeks and closed eyes.
“What else am I supposed to do?” You ask back and he shakes his head as if to say rookie before showing you. He inhales, his cheeks never puffing out, and then dives back down, looking at you with his eyes open. Copying him, you do as he did and feel the sting in your eyes almost immediately.
After a few seconds, you get used to it and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. Giving one back, the two of you continue swimming.
Sometime later, you’re floating on your back as Wally dives back down for a while. When he comes back up, he carefully places a couple of shells and pebbles on your shirt.
“They reminded me of you,” He grins, the lack of air clear on his face. Lifting your head, you look at the rocks and shells. It’s hard to see them, but you smile all the same. “Let’s go eat, you can look at them on the sand!” He suggests and collects the items again.
On the sand, you’re shaking yourself dry, suddenly realizing that swimming in jeans wasn’t the best idea. Waking Sculk up, you dry yourself off and she goes back to sleep.
Wally is already dry, something about super speed and running laps.
“I love this one,” You tell him, picking up the nearly intact knobbed whelk shell. With various shades of pink and beige on it, you hold up to Wally’s face and grin. “You match!” Rolling his eyes, he grabs a piece of foggy sea glass similar to the color of your eye. When he finds it, he grabs his phone and you watch as he opens his camera, placing the sea glass next to your eye.
“Smile,” He urges and you do, hearing him take at least a dozen pictures, he shows you the ones he deems the best. Doing the same with him, you have him hold the shell to the side of his face and take three pictures. He does something with his phone before he opens up the basket to pull out the food.
The rest of the date was spent with cloud gazing, building sand castles, and talking each other's ears off until you were interrupted by a call from Dick. He frowns but the both of you understand and pack up, quickly heading back to the others.
—
Five months into dating, Wally mentions the idea of you meeting his family. Thanksgiving is coming up and the others agreed to go home and spend time with someone other than the team for a change. Your plans were to go back to your cabin or with Doctor Light for the weekend but…
“Would they like me?” You ask from your spot on his bed. He looks up at you, his face once firmly planted on your chest. “I mean, you’re the only person who enjoys my company thus far. I’d hate to make them uncomfortable,” Sitting up, Wally pulls you up with him and holds your face firmly in his hands.
“I’ve told my family all about you and they’re dying to meet you, smokey!” He explains and the stupid nickname makes your eyes roll. “Besides, we’re pretty serious, right?” Nodding, he nods back. “So why not meet my family?”
“If you’re sure… I don’t see the harm. But I’d need them to approve of it first,”
And that’s how you ended up at the West house the day before Thanksgiving. Dressed in a brown sweater with thin white stripes, a pair of Wally’s baggy jeans, and your dress shoes; you stand next to Wally as he spam rings the bell.
“I think they’ve heard it,” You slowly tell him, lowering his arm.
“You think?” He grins, sliding his arm through your hand until you’re holding his hand. He’s dressed in a simple button-down and jeans, the best you’d get him to wear to the event.
“Wally!” A woman with darker red hair than Wally greets as she opens the door. “And you must be (Y/n),” Nodding, you fumble your hands before extending the hand that Wally wasn’t holding as he chuckles.
“Hello, Mrs. West, thank you for having me.” She smiles and shakes your hand.
“Please, call me Mary. Come on in, it’s chilly out.” Following Wally inside the home you see various pictures of him and his family hanging up. Baby pictures, first day of school, major events like weddings.
“He pooped himself that day,” Barry tells you as you’re staring at a picture of Wally when he was in middle school, holding a science trophy. First place.
“Barry!” Wally groans. “He’s lying,” He tells you and ushers you away as you’re waving at Barry. Barry laughs and heads towards the kitchen where you see Iris.
“That’s Jay and Joan. He was the first Flash,” He whispers as the two of you enter the living room.
“So,” Rudy says from behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to look at Wally’s father. “You’re the boy my son is dating?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. Letting go of Wally’s hand, your nails mess with the thread of your sweater, pulling and picking at it.
“Yes, sir,” You nod, swallowing your fear. With his eyebrows raised, he rubs his mustache. Lord, that’s a big mustache.
Do not focus on his mustache! Sculk shouts.
“You do drugs?”
“No, sir.”
“Drink?”
“No, sir.” You shake your head, feeling your chest tighten and suddenly your heart is in your throat.
“Dad,” Wally almost scolds before his father can ask another question. “How about I show you my old room?” Nodding, you wave to the others and hurriedly follow Wally up to his room.
“I cannot breathe,” You admit once the door closes. “I have never felt this nervous before, perhaps this was a bad idea.” Helping you to the bed, Wally opens the two windows of his old room.
“It’s normal to be nervous,” He reassures you as he sits next to you. “Plus, you’re super powerful! They can’t hurt you,” As he’s speaking, he’s drawing chemical bonds on the back of your hand. Each of their names pops into your head, but it does nothing to take your attention away from your fear.
“I do not wish to harm your family!” You bark, covering your face. “But what if they go astray? Wallace,” Looking at him, he frowns and rubs your back.
“Ask Sculk to go to sleep if you’re worried. How about we stay for an hour if you still want to go and then we can. I promise,” Slowly, you nod.
“I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll be right back, okay?” He stands up and you go to stop him, about to beg him to stay but nod. He smiles softly and slowly kisses you. “Sit and breathe, maybe look at my embarrassing pictures.” He points to a shelf with various pictures and a picture book mixed in with textbooks and comics. Nodding, he pecks your forehead and leaves.
Laying flat on his bed, you hold your hands over your chest. Feeling yourself breathing and your heart stop beating so fast. Once it’s calm enough, you walk over to the window and sit out on the porch roof. Watching as cars drive past and as families greet each other around the block, you frown.
Maybe if you hadn’t picked up the stone that held Sculk, those kids could’ve been you. You could’ve seen your family again. You could’ve grown up being loved by your family, and seeing your siblings grow up. Go to school, graduate.
Sighing, you lay your head on the wall behind you, now staring at the sky.
In truth, it probably was always going to end up this way. With you away from your family, shunned and cast out. But this was probably the best outcome because now you have Dr. Light and Wally. You have Sculk, too.
“Hey, babe,” Wally climbs out of the window. He knows how you find the word odd, but he loves your reaction to it. “Ready to go back down?” He asks, sitting next to you.
“Not yet,” You mutter, laying your head on his shoulder. He nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and the two of you stare at the clouds together until your legs go numb and you’re forced inside.
“I promise, they’ll love you.”
Downstairs, everyone is seated in the living room and watching some show. Unsure if you should greet them, you wave once again and sit next to Wally on the couch. While you’re nervous and unable to watch the courtroom show, you try your best.
“Oh,” Iris says as she checks her phone. “I hope it’s okay but I invited my friend and her husband over; her parents just died and I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“That’s fine, hun,” Rudy nods and everyone tunes back into the show until Wally suggests playing Just Dance.
“(Y/n), partners?” He grins as his father loads the game. You’ve played the game before, maybe three times but Wally is infinitely better than you.
“Sure,” You agree and the two of you pick a song. Apparently, they play in teams, and whoever scores the most wins. He picks Kesha’s C’mon.
“You always pick this,” You chide, standing next to him.
“I gotta show off,” He shrugs.
After three rounds, it’s decided that Jay and Joan got last place, Rudy and Mary got third, Barry and Iris got second, while you and Wally got first. He cheers, of course, holding up the Wii controllers as if it was a trophy.
“I’d like to dedicate this win to my amazing boyfriend! His support means everything!” He says as if he’s at the Oscars, accepting an award. Grinning, you laugh alongside the others. “And as the winners, we’re deciding on Salvadoran food for dinner!”
“Are you sure there are Salvadoran restaurants nearby? I’d hate for the food to get cold,” As you finish, Wally and Barry stare at you blinking before staring at each other. “What?” You ask and Wally chuckles, leaning down and kisses the top of your head.
“Babe, you’re asking the Flash and Kid Flash if a place is nearby.” He explains and you feel stupid, shaking your head.
“Forgive me for being concerned,” Rolling his eyes, he sits next to you.
“(Y/n) loves Salvadoran food,” He explains. “I don’t think they’ve ever had some, so you’d have to give recommendations.” He tells you and your eyes widen. No way, what if you give them food they hate? “Baby, they love all foods.”
“You say every time it’s my turn to pick dinner,”
“And I’m always right,” He grins. “Right, guys?” He looks at his family, silently urging them to agree.
“I’m sure we’ll love whatever you pick,” Mary nods. Sighing, you agree. Explaining various foods and drinks, they all pick their food and Barry says he’ll pick some up whenever Iris’s friends text back what they’d like to eat. In the meantime, Wally drags you up to his room.
“See!” He basically cheers as he closes the door. “They love you!” Sitting on his bed, you nod and watch as he dances around his room. Doing his victory dance.
“For once I was wrong,” You admit and he nods, still dancing around. “Your family is truly nice.” Scooting back in his bed, he closes the windows and the curtains before joining you. On his way to the bed, he grabs his old picture book.
“Prepare to see the most amazing baby ever!” He grins, his twin-size mattress hardly big enough to hold the two of you. The two of you must’ve stared at pictures for an hour before he puts the book back and the two of you just lay in the bed.
“Yknow something I always wanted to do?” He grins over at you. Looking away from your phone, you hum and look at him. “Make out in my childhood room.” He winks.
“Sure,” You grin and climb on top of him. He giggles and you raise an eyebrow, your hands trailing along his jawline.
“I’m excited,” He huffs, his hands finding their place at your hips. “Sue me.”
Kissing him, you move your right arm down to the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. He hums and wraps his arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the hair at the base of your neck. Feeling his nails drag along your scalp, you relax against him. Your left hand gently holds his jaw, keeping his head tilted high enough for you. Your lips mesh against each other, pressing and gliding with each turn of your heads. Eventually, his tongue slips past his lips and you let yours do the same.
He sighs out of the kiss, staring at you with barely open eyes and a spit-covered grin before leaning back in. Biting your lower lip, Wally picks back up where the two of you left off. Whatever chapstick he had used is fading at this point but he can taste it on your lips, quickly deciding he’ll buy more of it before he loses it. Cupping his neck, you press his lower body deeper into the bed while he makes a move for your belt.
Shifting his left leg higher, you start breaking the kiss, leaving slowly kisses trailing down his neck when the door swings open.
“I was right!” Barry shouts, laughing at your expressions. “Come on, dinners ready and Iris’s friends are here.” He closes the door, still laughing as you and Wally fix yourself.
“That part wasn’t on my bucket list,” He jokes, wiping your mouth of spit as you fix your shirt.
“Your family knows we kiss,” You groan. “Your dad knows I’ve kissed you! In his house!” He’s going to try and kill you, get Barry to create a tornado, and deprive you of oxygen.
“My dad knows I tried to have sex in his house!” He groans back. “We can still leave with our dignity.”
“No,” You huff, kicking the air. “That would be worse. Let’s just go downstairs and act as though Barry never caught us.” It takes him a second but he agrees and the two of you start your walk of shame down to where the rest of his family are.
“There’s the lovebirds!” Barry cheers when the two of you finally emerge. Wally rolls his eyes while you stare at the carpet. It’s too late, you can never look any of them in the eyes again. “Sorry, I interrupted your little make-out session,”
“Babe,” Iris scolds, putting her hand on his knee. He holds his hands up and Iris clears her throat. Wally guides you to a smaller couch than the one you sat on earlier and you finally look somewhere other than the carpet. “Mary this is my brother, Wally, and his boyfriend—“
“(Y/n)?” Mary finished for her. Looking over at Mary, she seems familiar but you can’t tell from where.
“I apologize, but do I know you?” You ask and she frowns. Everyone looks between the two of you but her husband seems to have already placed it. He grabs her hand, giving her his silent support.
“It’s me, Mary,” She says and you’re still no closer to knowing who she was. Her frown grows deeper when she figures that nothing is clicking for you.
“Your sister.”
“Oh,” You breathe. Wiping your hands on your pants, you lick your lips.
“Where’ve you been all these years?” She asks, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. When you look at her, you hate how you don’t feel anything. There’s no connection with her, she’s just another stranger to you.
“I don’t believe right now is the most appropriate place for this conversation,” You tell her with a tight smile.
“We tried to get ahold of you for the funeral. Mom and Dad would’ve loved to see you—“
“No.” You tell her. Now it’s Wally’s turn to offer you moral support. “They wouldn’t have. If they didn’t want me in their life then they wouldn’t have wanted me in their death. As I've said before, now is hardly the time or place to be having this conversation. I believe you’re making the hosts uncomfortable.”
“Can we talk outside?” She begs. “Please, I haven’t seen you in a decade. (N/n).” The name stings. It stings more than any injury you’ve ever gotten. The name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It reminds you of everything you’ve lost, it reminds you that you’ll never be that child again. But maybe, she’s different. Mary might not be like your parents, she could love you again.
“Fine.” You coincide. “Wallace will join us, though.” She nods, anything to get to talk to you. Wally is up before you are, guiding the three of you out to the backyard as his family awkwardly eats their food.
“Why did you leave?” She asks once everyone is settled in the deck chairs his father had set out earlier in the day.
“That’s far from the truth,” Shaking your head, you stare at the moon. “I was kicked out. They’d given up their rights to me, tried to get me sent to a wilderness camp.”
“Mom never would’ve done that!” Mary’s eyes narrow and you huff, looking back at her.
“Mary, what use is lying now? If I ran away wouldn’t they have looked for me? Reported me missing— tried to get me home?” It settles on her, how your mother and father only cried for you and prayed during church for you. But they never asked for you back. Her eyes lower, almost ashamed of her actions.
“Where were you?” She reaches for your hand but you move it away on instinct.
“A cabin in the woods. I lived there until recently,”
“Your father,” Mary’s husband started after silence had fallen over the group. “He always told stories about you being possessed. A she-demon who took over your body,”
“I guess he meant you being gay…” Mary trails before she sighs. “(N/n), I’m so sorry I didn’t help you. That I didn’t fight for you. I’ve missed your entire life, all because I believed our parents without question. But God has brought us back together, God is letting us be a family again.”
“I don’t believe in such a cruel man,” You tell her and she falters. “Your god and his cruel ways are what led to me being abandoned. It’s what led to me living in a broken-down cabin until I was found almost ten years later. Your god isn’t someone deserving of my love and my devotion. He’s never helped me,” You spit. “I helped myself. I found solace, I found joy, I found love. Look, Mary,” Wiping your face, you grab Wally’s hand, giving it squeezes to comfort yourself.
“I will not tell you that you’re wrong for choosing that god, I will not tell you that your religion is cruel. I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times over. What I am telling you is that your god played no role in my life. I am here because I am meeting my boyfriend's family. I met Wallace because the woman who found me is friends with Barry’s friends. I am still alive no thanks to god, no thanks to your mother and father. If you wish to have some sort of relationship with me, you’ll need to understand that.” It was awkward, saying that in front of Wally’s family and all but clearly Mary wasn’t going to let the situation go.
“I understand,” She nods, her hand rising to press against her cross. “I’m sure our other siblings would love to see you again. I know your birthday is coming up—“
“It is?” Wally gasps, effectively changing the whole conversation. “You’ve never told me your birthday!” The realization hits him like a truck and he gasps, clutching his chest. “Babe!” Mary stifles her laughter, watching the two of you.
“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years, Wallace,”
“We’re celebrating!” He shakes his head. “I’m already planning the best surprise birthday for you,” He grins, leaning closer to you.
“Please, look up the definition of a surprise.”
“My dad told me the same thing,”
—
December arrives faster than you’d like. You know Wally and your sister have been texting about your surprise party. You’ve seen their messages— and the subsequent group chat with all of the people who are going. It’s Wally, his family, your sister, your family, Kimiyo and her kids. No one from the team, though. Wally understood well enough that you’d hate to have them there. They know next to nothing about your biological family and you’d hate to have them learn in that way.
Sculk isn’t the happiest with this. She’s against the idea of you rekindling things with your family but you’ve explained that nothing is set in stone. You’re testing the waters, unable to let yourself get hurt like that again.
“Happy birthday!” Wally cheers as you enter the training room. Everyone else is already there, starting their warm-ups.
Thank you, Wallace,” Nodding towards him, you start your warm-up. He watches you, a stupid grin on his face because he doesn’t think you know his plans. He’s already created a great cover story. Barry and Kimiyo are going to call the two of you away for a mission. It’ll do two things, create a reason for you two to leave and ensure that the two of you aren’t called back for an emergency.
Double win!
“Happy birthday,” The others rush out and you thank them all the same.
Around twelve, Wally tells you to put on something nice. He says nothing fancy, but not jeans either. Essentially, your version of comfortable wear. Surprisingly, he’s dressed up.
He’s wearing a new shirt and pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of brown plaid pants. Of course, he puts on his usual shoes.
“Ehh!” He says, gesturing to his outfit.
“We could skip it and I could enjoy this outfit in my room,” You offer, slowly trailing your eyes over him. For a moment he genuinely considers it. His eyes flicker something almost desperate, yearning, but he shakes his head.
“I have an amazing day, plus backups planned,” He tells you, smoothing out your collar. “We can do what you said when we come back, yeah?”
“If you can wait that long,” You chide. His eyebrows raise, seeing that as a challenge he is more than willing to accept.
The two of you leave Mount Justice with help from Sculk. Appearing in the backseat of Barry’s car that’s parked outside of the venue Mary had rented out, he looks back at the two of you. You’ve spent more time with Barry and Iris since Thanksgiving, actually enjoying their company. Iris often invites you out for coffee on the weekends.
“No getting freaky—“
“Shut up!” Wally groans, covering his ears before loudly repeating lalalalala. You just stare at him, unblinking. That’s the guy you’ve fallen for.
“You ready?” Iris asks as she looks back towards you. “Because you can always leave.” Her hand reaches for her knee and Wally catches that for once, you don’t jerk away from the sudden touch. His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, even if you’re unaware of the shine in them.
“I’m sure I’ll be prepared for most of the possible outcomes,” You reassure.
Heading inside, you see faces with features that you see in yourself. You see your hair color, your eye shape, your skin tone. Your family. They’re all so foreign to you, you know their names and their relation to you but you don’t know them. They’re like an urban legend in your mind; except you’ve always figured the Moth Man was more real than you reuniting with Thomas again.
“(Y/n),” He smiles at you, his height matching your own. Thomas was your twin growing up, he was born a week after you to your mother's brother. You’d been inseparable since birth. Damn near identical, too.
“Thomas,” You greet him. “Wallace, this is my cousin. Thomas, this is my boyfriend, Wallace.”
“Call me Wally,” He introduces himself with a handshake. “He’s a stickler for full names.” He smiles back at you and you smile back. Thomas laughs before patting your shoulder.
“Glad to see that hasn’t changed! Come on, Pop is dying to see you again.”
And thus begins an hour of reuniting with family. Having Wally hear whatever stories they’ve retained over the years, small pieces of your childhood that Wally never thought he’d get to hear.
“You had a stutter?” He whispers to you as the two of you look to find Mary.
“Used to,” Humming, you spot Mary talking to her husband near the drinks table. “It stopped when I merged with Sculk.” Who, just for the record, is hating every second of this. She hates when they greet you, when they talk fondly of you. when they hug you. She hates the way they act as if you’ve been off to a different country to study and not cast out from their family entirely.
She hates how the elephant is being ignored.
You find it amusing how not only are you meeting your family, but so is Wally. Although, he’s much less nervous than you were. He’s chatting away, doing most of the speaking for you (bless him, honestly), and mingling enough for the two of you.
“(Y/n)!” A woman smiles as she pulls you and Wally over. Removing your arm from her grip, she looks down at it but doesn’t vocalize her thoughts. “I was just telling Imani how you’ve grown into a strong young man.” She grins, beckoning her daughter over. Imani, who you remember through Thomas, is his neighbor. But they’re considered family by the older generations.
“I remember him crying over a trapped mouse,” Imani grins, nudging her shoulder with yours. Rolling your eyes, you see Wally grin and lean his head on your shoulder.
“You cried over a mouse?” Wally asks and you nod.
“I had just read the Crime of Being Small poem. It was cruel to let the creature starve in the trap when I could simply release it. But my father never permitted me,” You explain. “It never stopped me though,”
“What a hero,” Imani remarks, a lighthearted smile on her face as she watches her mother leave. It drops once she’s out of earshot. “I can’t believe you came back,” She frowns and you frown back. Was she not happy to see you? You understood you were never that close but, damn. “No offense, but you’re better off.” She quickly adds and guides you over to seats.
“Before you went on that mountain trip, our parents were thinking of setting us up,” She explains, scratching her neck. “They started up that betrothal shit again; I’m actually engaged.”
“We could help you get out,” Wally immediately offers and you nod. She sighs, wringing her hands together.
“I don’t have my diploma… I don’t have anything,” She admits and Wally glances at you, urging you to take the lead.
“Neither did I,” She looks at you as if she remembered that you’d been alone, without any documentation for years. “But I can set you up with someone; get a place to live while you get your GED and raise enough money to support yourself.”
“Really?” She breathes and you nod, offering a smile.
“Give me your number or…” Thinking about it. “I could ask them to collect your belongings now and we can leave once the party is over.”
“That quick?”
“That quick.”
Connections, connections, connections. That’s the name of the game, at least that’s what Kimiyo tells you. Getting into contact with Bruce was easy, he’d prepared a safe house in Central City until Imani picked a different one. Clark and Doctor Fate collected Imani’s things, setting them up in the safe house.
All the while, you and Wally are hanging amongst everyone at the party, eating snacks and drinking fruit punch. Imani is nervous, having to excuse herself to the bathroom enough that her mother starts to worry. So, the two of you bring her into your group and talk until Mary says it’s time to sing Happy Birthday.
You’re reluctant. But you can’t say no, it is your party.
It’s a tower of a cake, covered in your favorite color with small white details. There are little emblems and when you look at them, you see Lady Whistledown. The gossiper in Bridgerton.
Everyone sings Happy Birthday, recording videos with obnoxious flashlights and trying to get you to smile.
The song ends and you’re handed the knife, everyone waiting for you to make the first cut. Hand the first slice to someone incredibly important to you. You know Mary wishes it was for her, she stands next to your other siblings, watching as you cut the slice and carefully plate it. Her hands almost reach for the plate instinctively, but you hand it to Wally.
He doesn’t know the meaning of the plate. He doesn’t understand that you’re basically declaring your love for him. He doesn’t get why everyone is stunned when he’s handed the slice. But you smile at him and wipe frosting from the knife onto his nose. The same thing he’d done to you for your birthday.
Barry takes over cutting the other slices, handing you the second slice so the two of you could sit in peace for a little bit.
“Did you enjoy it?” Wally asks as the two of you make your way to the outside area.
“More than I thought I would,” The cake is lovely. It tastes good but you’re sure Wally has incredible tastes for these sorts of things. “Thank you, Wallace.”
It’s too early for an ‘I love you’, but both of you can feel the words lingering in the air. Your feelings are mutual, trying to outshine the other but you match his love in your own ways.
To be loved is to be seen. To be loved is to be changed. To be loved is to be known.
You love Wally. You love how he catches your moods, how he knows when you need a break, when you need a push. You love how you’ve slowly noticed his little quirks becoming your own. His eye rolls, his laugh, his gaze. You love how he knows your favorite color, your favorite flavor, and your favorite food. How he knows certain things would never be something you’d enjoy.
Laying your head on his shoulder, you stare at his free hand. He’s since finished his cake, the empty plate left on the ledge next to him.
Saying I love you feels right. Saying I love you would be like saying the sky is blue. Of course, it is, of course you do. But you’ve heard it’s too soon in the relationship. It’s too soon to feel that strongly about someone. But in truth, you think this is only the beginning.
—
“How're you holding up?” Wally asks as he rushes over to you, watching your back as you fight against two of the zombie soldiers. He attacks the third zombie that had slipped behind you.
“Good,” You huff, using Sculk’s powers to rip one of the zombie’s heads from its body. “I broke one of their jaws and used it as a shovel.” He makes a noise akin to that’s good and you hum.
“Can you two focus?” Conner grunts, having five zombies on top of him. Flinging them off of him, you roll your eyes and pull the zombies to the center of the room. There’s about a dozen or so left and Dick had wanted to get some in to see what spell or curse they were under. It was a little difficult to knock out a zombie, they didn’t have a stream of consciousness or any sort of pain receptors.
It was a matter of switching off their mobility, essentially paralyzing them.
“Thanks, Ward,” Dick sighs, wiping his face of zombie flesh. Nodding, you check over Wally. He’s fine, talking to Artemis. His hair is messy and his black suit is working wonders for his body. Damn, runner's ass was a real thing.
Snapping out of it, you clear your throat and head over to M’Gann and Zatanna, helping with the magic side of everything.
“I want Ward and Miss Martian with me to dissect them,” Dick tells everyone as Zatanna binds them together. “Zatanna, could you make sure that nothing follows us back?” She nods and scans the area as you help M’Gann load up the zombies. It makes the jet smell horrid, surprise, dead things without ventilation smell horrible!
On the way home, you can’t help but stare at Wally. His black suit really is nice, but when he switches back to the yellow and red, you shift in your seat.
“Zombies moving!” Conner shouts and you whip your head around, seeing the twelve zombies surrounded by a magical sort of aura.
The Witches doing. Sculk sneers as she helps you put them back down. This time, she encases them in a magical prison. Cool, totally cool.
“It’s Enchantress,” You tell them. “Someone needs to alert Batman that June has lost control of her.” Dick nods and calls his father. With Enchantress, you know you’re in for a long night of undoing spells and magical traps. So long that you’ll overuse Sculk’s magic and probably do something stupid.
Dammit.
—
Looking up from his phone, Wally gets up at the rapid knocks on his door. It opens and he smiles when he sees you, about to greet you before you start speaking.
“I want you,” You tell Wally as you stand in front of his door, covered in sweat. He stares at you, confused. He hasn’t even known that you returned from the dissection room.
“You have me…?” He trails, letting you in, and checks the hallway to see if anyone else is awake and in the hallway. It’s the middle of the night, he’d thought about going to sleep so it’s probably around two in the morning.
“No, I want you sexually.” You groan as he closes his door, although you’ve come close more than a dozen times, nothing has gone past a couple of hickeys. “Ever since this—“ You gesture between the two of you. “I’ve been feeling weird shit. Horny shit. And fuck your suit? It’s really doing things to me, man!” You admit and he has to pause. Never has he heard you say any of those words before.
“Are you okay?” He asks, putting his hand on your forehead. When he does, you start giggling and hold his hand in yours.
“Yes— Sculk thinks I should mention I get weird when I overuse her powers— but I’ve been jacking it like a pre-teen for months to the idea of you. So, can we fuck? That sounds so rude.” You frown and drop his hand. “I’m willing to have sex if you are. Like so willing,” You rephrase your sentence.
“Yes, please,” He laughs, already discarding his shirt as you grin and start to do the same. “Wait— are you sure you want this? I feel like this should wait until you’re clear-headed,” He says as he places a hand on your chest, keeping you away from him.
“Ugh, you’re too nice. And sure, Sculk is about to knock me out, anyway,” In preparation you go to sit on his bed but your body gives out and you collapse. Wally even with his amazing sight can’t tell when your body changes from you to Sculk. Black and blue cover takes your body like moss on a tree and Sculk sits up.
“This’ll be short,” She says, her voice like that of an audiobook for children. “Yes, he’s in a clear state of mind. Too clear, it’s basically anti-lying drugs when he overuses my powers. So, good luck. I will not be here for when you two…” She makes a face. “You know. I’ll be locked away, trust. That’s my son, I already hear his thoughts about you.” She gags at the mention and he doesn’t know if he should feel insulted.
“Son?” He echos and she laughs. It makes him feel warm, like a child again.
“I’ve raised the kid, that’s my son. He really likes you, by the way,” She smiles. “Thank you, for that. But I’ll kill you if need be.” And just like that, your body is back on his bed and he’s left trying to grasp with the knowledge he’s been bestowed.
—
With much encouragement from Wally, you agreed to hang out with the others for dinner. He thinks it’s the perfect time to have dinner with the team. With summer approaching again, he’s hoping for a weekend vacation with the team. You wanted to stay inside his room, perhaps continue your activities from the morning. But this was fine, too, you supposed.
Everyone is in the kitchen, discussing what to get.
“I’m tired of pizza,” Artemis says, immediately cutting Wally off when his lips press to make the P sound. “We should branch out for once! How about Salvadoran food?” Nodding in agreement, you can already picture what you’re going to eat.
“My boyfriend loves Salvadoran food!” Wally beams, pulling you into a sideways hug. The others pause their conversation and look at the two of you.
“Boyfriend?” Dick echos, looking between the two of you. “You’re his boyfriend?” He asks you.
“I do enjoy Salvadoran food,” You nod. His eye nearly twitched, technically yes, that answered the question but it totally didn’t at the same time.
“How long have you been dating?” M’Gann smiles, her arm wrapping around Conner’s shoulder.
“One year and one month,” Wally happily tells them. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. (Y/n)’s been super touchy, it’s cute.” He grins before kissing your cheek. “And my lock screen is him.” As proof, he shows them the picture of you smiling with the sea glass next to your eye. Yours is a picture of you and Wally on a date to the local fair where he ate too many deep-fried Oreos.
“They don’t notice me,” You shrug, just wanting to eat. “It isn’t surprising that they haven’t taken notice.” Frowning, Wally rubs your arm and looks at the others with an accusing glare.
“That’s not true,” Klaudr shakes his head. “You’re a valuable teammate, we notice you.” The others nod but do not offer anything of value.
“I don’t mind,” Shaking your head, you lean away from Wally. “I understand I am not the most approachable or the most… friendly person on this team. There’s no ill intent nor malice.”
Before anyone can speak again, your phone buzzes and you see it’s a call from Doctor Light.
“I am needed elsewhere,” Excusing yourself, you kiss the corner of Wally’s mouth. “Enjoy your dinner.” He nods and sees you off, but doesn’t return to the others for dinner. Instead, he makes a bowl of cereal and heads towards his room. Only, the elevator door won’t open.
He tries every door and nothing works, he’s stuck in the common area until you or Zatanna returns to fix it. Great. He’ll just eat his food in the living room.
The others don’t eat much before heading to the living room.
“Wally,” Dick starts but Wally doesn’t listen. With his back to everyone, Wally lays down on one of the shorter couches, making sure no one could sit next to him or talk to him. For extra measure, he puts on your pair of headphones that he stashed in the living room and immediately, the sound around him drops to nothing but his own breathing.
Dramatic, probably. But he would’ve thought that the team, his friends— supposedly your friends, were still excusing you. He’d straight up told Dick that he basically ignored you, surely he would’ve thought ‘Hmm, my teammate is being excluded, we should include him especially since he was alone since he was five until four years ago’ but no. He thinks it especially hurts because Dick is his best friend— his best friend can’t be bothered to take the time to be friends with his boyfriend.
That shit really stings.
He must’ve watched videos for three hours before he saw the mist of your powers roll over him. Pushing one of the headphones away from his ear, he looks back at you and smiles. You’re dropping your hero outfit on the ground, revealing your daily clothes and your tired expression. He catches the signs that you’ve overworked yourself and frowns. That mission must’ve been tough, but you’re not injured.
“Aw, babe,” He draws out as he scoots back, offering space between him and the back of the couch. “Wanna cuddle?” The offer is met with a simple nod and he lets you crawl over him. He smiles as you lay in front of him, throwing one leg over his legs to pull him closer.
“Thanks, ‘missed you,” You mumble, digging your head into his shirt. With barely open eyes, you stare at him. He can basically see the heart eyes you’re making and he smiles, tracing chemical bonds on your cheek.
“I missed you, too,” He whispers, pulling the headphones off with his free hand.
“Nah,” You laugh and his eyebrows raise. “I missed you so much more!” You tell him, running your fingers up and down his arm.
“How much?” He asks, just to milk the situation.
“Oh,” You sigh, eyes wide. “Like so much! Ugh, Kimiyo wouldn’t let me leave to come and see you!” He fake gasps and you nod, acting as if that was going to get her in trouble.
“She didn’t?” Wally shakes his head.
“She did, baby!” You whine, cupping his face. “I was so lonely and I kept thinking about you and me and you kissing, us having se— Sculk is telling me to shut up.” You laugh into his chin and he knows the party is over. “She says I’m gonna regret this when I wake up— oh, she’s making me fall asleep. Night,” Immediately, your head falls onto the pillow and your hands drop into your face. He fixes you, of course, laying on his back with you on top of him.
When he flips onto his back he catches the others staring and stares back.
“We’re sorry,” Dick speaks first, looking amongst the others. “We should’ve made more of an effort with (Y/n).” He nods, carefully fixing your hair.
“Our normality and judgment blocked out any potential interactions,” Kaldur adds. “We understand that looking from the outside doesn’t provide the full story, especially regarding Ward.”
“Who knew he was so cuddly,” Artemis adds, making Wally chuckle.
“I did,” He speaks softly despite knowing Canary’s screams won’t wake you up in that state.
#x male reader#x reader#wally west x reader#wally west x male reader#young justice x reader#young justice x male reader#wally west x you
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I think I genuinely found the perfect song for Leon and his wife as like "their song".
(Yes ik it's the song from Twilight but it's fitting!!!)
Now, when I think about them getting married I don't think they did a big wedding. They got married on a whim because Leon had vacation time coming up. They got married by a justice of the peace at a courthouse in front of everyone they cared about and rented a party room at a nice restaurant they really love just to have a good meal and be with everyone who matters.
They didn't have a cake, no flower toss, no first dance. But you did get to dress up, everyone did. Just shared their happiness with everyone. You had a honeymoon for sure though. 2 blissful weeks in Italy together, the vacation they'd planned on taking together. Just to have a romantic get away.
You promised each other that you'd do something special for your first anniversary but you got pregnant and Violet was barely 3 months old on your wedding anniversary that the thought slipped both your minds.
But one afternoon Leon's heading home from a particularly grueling case. Everything that could have gone wrong almost did. And of course he's sitting in traffic when all he wants is to go home an see his wife and daughter. The only thing sounds are the engine and occasional honks from idiot drivers. So he turns on the radio to fill the silence. He catches the ending of some other song. The radio dj coming on and talking for a bit, he reaches for the dial when piano keys fill the car. He just goes back to waiting, sitting back in his seat as he does so.
And my God does he get emotional... He doesn't know if it's the stress he's under or if it's that he can't stop thinking about how relevant everything feels.
He knows his life is hard, It's been hard since that night in Raccoon City and everything that's happened to him. All the people he's seen suffer and the awful things he's seen. But once he met you he finally had something good. Something that gave him hope.
His life changed so much in the past 5 years of being together. You loved him. You married him. You gave him the family he's always wanted and his life is barely over a quarter of the way through. He gets to come home to you and the beautiful baby girl he loves so much.
How could he not finally be thankful for being alive?
Because he gets to live not to just be a weapon anymore. He's got something to look forward to.
Your anniversary rolls around. It's almost midnight and you're prepping your lunch for the next day at work. As Leon walks into the kitchen. Doing his usual schtick of wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Giving you the usual kisses with a tight squeeze so you can't escape his love as you squeal for mercy. He eventually stops his torturing affection and looks at the stove clock as you zip you're lunchbox closed.
Soon you're lifted from the floor being carried by the waist out of the kitchen.
"Leon! I'm not done yet!"
"It's our anniversary now so I get to do what I please."
"That's not how this works!"
He sets you on the floor, standing as you playfully glare at him. He hustles over to the stereo, plugging his phone in and turning it up, not loud enough to wake the baby.
"What're you doing?" You question, hearing the piano fill the living room as he hustles around the couch.
"What we should of done last year. Our first dance. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
"Leon, we've danced since we got married."
"Yes, but we never picked a song! So just, dance with me and listen. Please? Pleeeease?" He bounces on place till you sigh and wrap your arms around him.
You just stare into each other's eyes while you slow dance. Swaying gently to the music as you listen. Both of you getting emotional by the end of the song. Tears streaming down both your faces. Still smiling as you hug him tight.
"Being with you was one of the best choices I've ever made. I love you so much."
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#🌿 ivy writes#resident evil x reader#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy#Spotify
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Do you think Gortash would still love Durge even after their bad ending (you know when they betray Bhaal and choose to surrender themselves to prison at the end) and they’ve gone mad?
For example, let’s say in an alternate scenario where Gortash survives at the end of the game. All the other companions have abandoned Durge, do you think Gortash would step in and try to help them? Do anything?
I've wracked my brain at night thinking about it.
On the one hand, the part of me that looks exclusively at in game Gortash says that Gortash wouldn't love them without power and without reason.
Because the more canon aligned Gortash is more pragmatic than emotional and although I do think his feelings verged into the impractical, he still fundamentally needs balance.
He's a domineering kind of guy, he gets along with Durge because they refused to be cowed in any way by him, and he dared not pity them or treat them with anything less than the utmost respect.
He can't sweep them under his tidal wave of personality, he crashes upon their shore, and they chip away at each other, grain by grain, in a tumultuous but steady balance.
they had a tango, you know. two partners working together. sex and love stemmed from something other than practicality, but it was practicality that brought them together initially.
He loves the Dark Urge for their power and reason, and without those two things... maybe he wouldn't seek them out.
especially not after they betrayed him.
and I don't know. the more assholish Gortash would see their alliance as having reached its inevitable conclusion. the more... emotional but distant Gortash would say, goodbye, old friend.
I wish you could've escaped your master, as I escaped mine.
and he wouldn't see them again.
but canon aligned Gortash is underwritten anyway.
so I'll do Larian's job for them and say...
well.
it could go either way.
I can see Gortash abandoning them because he is literally unable to look upon his former love, completely without freewill, and not feel soul crushing, life ending despair.
I could see it being too painful to see them when he knows he can't help them and they can't be helped by anyone, and they're gone, and he has to accept that.
again.
but I can also see...
a determined Gortash.
who has nothing now, except perhaps a desire for revenge against Durge. but as they are, mad and alone and insatiable, why even bother, right?
Bhaal has tortured them more than Gortash ever could.
maybe he keeps them locked in a basement somewhere, and at first it's just to lord it over them. mock their failure, their inability to prevent themselves from becoming like this.
in the beginning, he's still bitter about his plan failing and he blames them. to him, maybe it's a cosmic justice...
he says you could've ruled the world with me at your side and Bhaal and Bane at our backs.
but you chose this instead.
but as time goes on, his heart softens and he starts wondering if they're in there somewhere.
the only person who could understand him.
whom he could understand truly.
and maybe they're down there somewhere, trying to be understood again.
so he shows them things he hopes they remember about the life they shared together for a brief but important time. maybe books they talked about. blueprints he showed them of his future inventions. their notebooks, left behind. their old clothing, left over after long nights spend fucking and arguing.
maybe he tries to find a cure. he has some medical expertise, right? from dissecting people. maybe he tries to find a solution, some way to bring them back. maybe he pours himself into studies of bhaalspawn and deeper magic, trying to find some way to bring back a person whose mind has been ravaged into nothing.
but worst case scenario ...
he has to give up on all that... and give them the death he knows they would've asked for, had they been conscious.
so.
yeah.
anon. I've thought of it.
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hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍
i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞
Unusual affection
thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3
word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive
You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.
So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…
that is one gorgeous man!
“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.
“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.
“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.
“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?
Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.
You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”
“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”
You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”
A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”
Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.
Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.
“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.
“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.
You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”
Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.
The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.
Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.
“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.
“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”
Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.
“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”
Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.
Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.
“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”
Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.
“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.
Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.
masterlist
#ask-mp4#hq#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#hq oikawa#oikawa toru#oikawa
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Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
#spies are forever#saf#starkid#agent curt mega#owen carvour#star mail#void offering#nova's tags →#wiggly would have an absolute field day with owen and curt huh#bc desires run deep. they want each other. they want to be free...#but curt wants to not be haunted by the ghosts of his past#and owen wants to move on. to get a better future where he doesn't have to devote his life to an agency#might be fun to play around with
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my least delusional take on how kim and kenta might happen in season 2
so call me delusional but i don’t think the prison trio works for tony. first of all, kenta pretty much murdered him and i don’t think tony is the kind of man to forgive that? one could argue he could use it to guilt kenta but like… there are way more risk-free options not inside a prison for stabbing you. winner was a henchman of opportunity and selfish benefit and just looks like the sort to hold a bitter grudge forever. and dean? dean was caught up in the mess at his weakest point and going through the consequences of his own actions. also i want all three of them to move forward and not back.
but obviously they are working for someone - i see them as being rather reluctantly allied with the common goal of getting and, most importantly, staying out of prison. and this is where i want kim to stumble in on their little operation and actually agree with their mission which leads to him teaming up with them. like maybe the trio is trying to figure out what's going on with tony or way or the rest of the child/organ trafficking ring and maybe it's something the x-hunter team has dismissed or doesn't want to dig into but please. since when has st. kimberly of justice have been able to walk away once he catches the scent of something rotten in the state of denmark? never.
winner and dean have a thing against kenta - winner because he's a bitch and dean because kenta ruined his life - and kim sure as shit isn't going to be on winner’s side: so the circumstances make him partner up with kenta by default. together they get shit done and keep the rest of their little gang of misfits in check.
kenta is a bit feral and unstable and kim is very no nonsense about his “you want to figure out who you are and how to be a better person? fucking act like it” opinions. like give me kim being bossy and righteous and kenta wanting to strangle him because he can't deal with someone trying to control and micromanage his every move again. give me kenta lashing out and kim looking at him all “with all due respect - which is none - you can't pull this shit in a civilized society.” give me kenta trying his best to function, having his own rituals and behaviours - some of them very maladjusted and plain sad - and kim, witnessing it from close range, thinking “holy shit that's messed up.”
(kim snaps and gets into kenta’s face and kenta flinches before shaking it off and striking back. kenta is possessive and stupid aggressive about the most mundane things - like his cigarettes, clothes or food - and kim finds it infuriating until he realizes they're the first and only things kenta’s been allowed to actually own. kenta gets banged up in the process of them doing something and kim barks at him to “sit the hell down and let me look at it” and kenta responds with a blank-faced “why?”)
kim might not start out liking kenta, that'll come later and almost by accident, but he pities the man and doesn't think anyone deserves to like that way. and they don't even need to explicitly end up together but give me and ending where it's hinted at as the natural next step now that they've grown genuinely fond of each other.
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bonus:
kim: hey, i don't like the guy either but we’re on the same side this time
alan: you sure about that?
kim: yeah, he wants nothing to do with tony.
alan: not what i meant but good to know
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Halloween in Waterdeep
Gale Dekarios x F!Reader (called "Tav" once)
Synopsis: Tav thinks Gale's tower might be haunted; Gale has an answer for it. But is it the right one?
Author's Note: Happy Halfway to Halloween, everyone! Since people celebrate "Half-o-ween" anywhere from April 30th through May 2nd, I'll hopefully be posting a few more Halloween themed fics in the coming days! But for now, enjoy this fluffy Gale fic. <3
*Extra Info: Some of this fic is stretched a little beyond what is canon, I am aware and did it on purpose to suit my idea. However, what I did research for canon-alignment purposes is that Faerunian "October' is commonly known as Leaffall, and the holiday at the end of Leaffall is called Liar's Night, which is essentially Faerunian Halloween, or Samhain. It's on the 30th day of Leaffall and it's common to dress up in disguises to avoid the attention of the deities known as Leira and Mask.
"Gale, are you certain your tower isn't haunted?" You scrunched your knees up to your chest as you sat in the very center of Gale’s large four poster bed. The wizard was sitting merely feet away at his desk grading papers, but he still seemed too far away for your liking, your earlier experience in the tower while he was away for work still lurking in the shadows of your mind.
"I'm quite certain, my love. I lived here by myself with only Tara for an entire year and never experienced anything of the… phantasmic nature. That is, unless the spirits of the mice Tara has disposed of in that time have returned for justice." He chuckled to himself, and normally you would chuckle with him, but your fear currently outweighed your humor and you huffed instead.
Your frustration caught his attention and the pen he was holding went down. He turned to you in his chair and appraised your balled-up position on the bed. You looked so small and helpless, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for teasing you. Pushing himself up, he made his way to you, the urge to wrap his arms around you and make you feel safe again superseding all of his professor duties for the time being. You came first; you always had, and you always would.
You reached for him as he climbed up onto the bed, and he gathered you up in his arms, pulling you close to his chest where the marks of the orb still lay in harmless divets and grooves along his skin. The hair that grew there scratched your cheek as you nuzzled into him, and you found comfort in the familiar sensation.
"Alright. Tell me what happened and we'll see what we can do. If it is a spirit, I know several incantations that will allow us to speak to them and safely move them along. If it's something else, we've fought worse, I'm sure. Yes?" He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands and lifted your face, forcing you to meet his tender eyes.
You nodded, determination returning to you now that you had the confidence of your fiancé again. "Alright," you began, walking back through the experience in your mind. "I was in the kitchen downstairs making coffee, and I heard a thumping noise behind me. I knew you were at Blackstaff, so naturally, my first guess was Tara, so I called out to her as I turned around, but she wasn't there. I looked all around the kitchen for her but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, I found her in your study, curled up asleep. So, I figured it must have been an animal of some sort inside the walls. It happened a few more times when I returned to the kitchen, but I ignored it as best I could in favor of my task. But then, something happened that I simply could not ignore. The spice cabinet door flung open by itself! I was shocked, of course, as none of the windows were open - for the gods' sakes, it's the 26th day of *Leaffall, it's chilly out there. I stared at it in shock, then it closed right back! I cast Detect Magic, as you taught me to do, and came up empty handed. That is not the first odd occurrence that has befallen me, Gale. In the last week alone, there have been numerous times in which I've felt like I'm being watched or heard strange, unexplainable noises in the tower."
Gale shook his head, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "I do believe I know what's going on here."
"Oh?" You quirked a confused eyebrow at him.
"In the days leading up to *Liar's Night, some Waterdhavians pull pranks around their houses to confuse the deities of Leira and Mask. They wear wooden necklaces so their magic cannot be detected while they have their fun. Then as you know, on Liar's Night, we all don disguises to keep those deities from showing us any special attention. Well, in the year Tara and I spent alone here, Tara did her best to keep my spirits up in any way she could in that dark time, including pull pranks on me during Leaffall. I suspect she's doing the same to you as a sort of… welcome to the Dekarios family. Let's ask her, shall we?"
You nodded, finding yourself both relieved and irritated at the Tressym for tricking you. Gale led you from your shared room and led you to the study, where Tara was bedded down next to one of Gale’s many bookshelves. "So, Tara." Your fiancé's voice was deceptively casual, but you heard - and you were certain Tara did too - the undercurrent of annoyance laced in his tone. "Playing pranks on my fiancée for Leaffall, hm? You truly startled her, my friend, and I do hope you will apologize."
"Mr. Dekarios," Tara tried to interject, but Gale continued without pause.
"By all the gods, she thought the tower was haunted!"
"Mr. Dekarios…" another failed attempt.
"I very much want my wonderful fiancée to feel safe in her new home, and-"
"Mr. Dekarios, for heaven's sake it wasn't me!" the tressym screeched and flapped her wings indignantly. Gale, at last, halted in his tracks and furrowed his eyebrows, the creases on his forehead deepening in displeasure.
"Tara, are you being totally honest with me?" He said, his voice stern, and you stepped up behind him, laying a hand on his tense shoulder. He breathed out slowly, relaxing under your touch. "I apologize, Tara, Tav." He nodded to both of you in turn, then fully turned to you, taking your hands in his own. "I just- I can't stand the thought of you not feeling safe here with me. So, Tara, please, if it was you, just tell m-"
Thud
All three heads whipped around suddenly as a loud, clear thudding sound came from the wall of the study behind them. "Gods above, what kind of anim-"
Thud Thud
"Gale-"
Thud Thud Thud
"Mr. Dekarios-!"
BANG!
Books flew off the bookshelves and piled unceremoniously into the floor as the wall cracked open with a blinding light for several seconds before a woman was revealed standing in the study with them. The crack of light closed as though it had never been there in the first place, and the woman, giggling gleefully, cast a spell to return the books to their rightful places. You took glances between the strange woman and Gale, whose jaw had fallen slack. But after several seconds of uncharacteristic silence, all was revealed.
"Mother?!"
.
.
.
fin
Tagging Darlings: @knightofmight01
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#half-o-ween#halfway to halloween#baldur's gate 3#bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x reader#gale x f!reader#gale x fem reader#gale x tav#gale x f!tav#gale x fem tav#gale x female reader#gale x female tav
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