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doobea · 9 months

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"STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS PLEASE" - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: Rin discovers that he likes being next to you on public transit. But it probably doesn't mean anything - right?

contents: proplayer!rin, gn!reader, reader is team manager, under the assumption that reader kinda short, fluff, sfw, loosely based off of my recent morning commutes to work, kinda word vomit/kinda proof'd sorry word count: 3.4K a/n: i realized that i wanna write more oneshots and i know i said i was gonna take a break from rin but ... i can't sorry!! apologizes if this feels rushed LMAO

Rin’s mornings have a strict routine.

He would get up at the crack of dawn, dedicate the first hour to yoga and the second hour to his needed morning run, make himself a protein shake for his meal on the go, and take a brisk cold shower all before jogging down to the train station for his work commute. His routine is nothing but quick and simple in his book, though not everyone can easily pick it up.

Today he wakes up missing his alarm or rather the lack of it.

His phone beams in his face the time 8:35AM and he curses under his breath. Practice starts at 9:00AM sharp and waking up two hours late throws everything off for him. He decides to keep his windows shut, skips out on his morning exercises, ignores the rumbling in his stomach, and sprints to the subway station that's located ten blocks from his apartment.

The air grows heavy and thick from the continuous sea of people cramming into the train car. Usually, the earlier train cars have enough room for him to fully stretch his arms out or even sit if he was feeling lazy but it's practically impossible by the sheer volume he’s currently facing. Rin stands by one of the entrances of the train car, clutching his duffle bag close to his body as more salary men and women alike are shoving past him, trying to claim an open spot of their own.

"Stand clear of the closing doors please." The automatic voice announcement blares through the outdated speakers and lights by the entryways flash yellow as the sliding doors begin to seal shut.

"Wait!" Rin perks up and sees your frantic figure running down the flight of stairs, hands busied with a binder and a duffle bag of your own. "Someone hold the door!"

And while Rin would pretend and ignore just about anyone on any given day, he couldn't do it this time, not when he notices the logo on your bag and the name stitched onto the blue zip-up sweater you had on. He quickly sticks out his foot to prevent the sliding doors from closing, earning himself a harmony of groans from the workers around him, and watches your figure slip past the gap and stop directly in front of him.

He watches you gasp out a breathless 'thank you' before eyes widen at recognition, "You're Rin from Project: Blue Lock, right?" You say a bit too loudly for his liking and swiftly adjust your volume into a whisper. "Sorry, I just read your file before I hopped on." You attempt to point at the binder between the lack of space.

Rin stares at the binder, which appears to be on the verge of spilling out all of its contents of how stuffed it was. "You're the new manager?"

"First day!" You cheer despite almost missing your own commute just moments ago.

The train car sways in motion, causing you to stumble forward and almost crash into him. He watches as you glance around for a surface to hold onto but there isn't much to offer in a crowded room. Rin, of course, had no issue claiming such space as his back leaned against the side wall next to the doors and one of his hands rests freely on the top metal bar.

"Hold onto something," He points out the obvious.

"I’m trying," You respond, but Rin notes that you didn't want to shove your way through the crowd nor grab at the handlebars behind the seats that people sat in. He figures that you're too much of a people pleaser.

The train car lunges itself into motion again after the next stop, this time more packed than before. You were practically pressed together if not for the binder. Much to his own surprise, he lamely offers his extended arm that was gripping onto the metal bar.

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want to hurt yourself?"

You didn't bother fighting back as the next wave of people make their way through and reach to latch your free hand around his arm, fingers pinching the fabric of the athletic undershirt he wore. The train's frequent stops meant a lot of back-and-forth motions, each time you would apologize and he would find himself mumbling back 'no worries'.

When the train finally reaches your shared destination, Rin's collar is pulled to the side and his sleeve is no longer compressed against his skin. His bangs stick to his forehead and he feels sweat drip down his spine. You're still profusely apologizing beneath him but he holds back his sharp tongue.

"It’s fine."

The second incident follows shortly after during a team excursion to Okinawa's training camp. Since then it had been two months since you started working for the team and Rin was taken aback by how structured you are compared to the first meeting. Ever since joining, productivity and communication between members have increased and during game days you would already have everyone's lockers stocked with necessities such as painkillers, bandages, extra sweatbands, etc. It didn’t take too long before you quickly became everyone’s favorite manager.

Isagi would always greet you with a fist bump first thing in the morning, Bachira follows in after with an overbearing hug, Nagi gifts you whatever latest candy he had in his bag, and lunch is always on Reo.

Rin keeps his distance, he’s like that with everyone, but even he can silently admit that you’re annoyingly good at your job. He hasn’t spoken a word to you outside of official introductions after the train incident - until now.

The bus system in Okinawa is different from the ones he was used to on the main island and it seems like you also figured that out the hard way as he watches you do a second headcount on the public transit. The workers had forgotten to change out the working hours last minute and, because the team went during the slowest season, the schedule wasn't always on time.

Luckily, the last bus of the day was able to pick up everyone from the training camp after one heated call to the company. Unfortunately, this meant the drive back to the hotel was going to be in pitch-black darkness with added bumpy roads (who decided to build a sports facility on top of a mountain?) and of course, this bus has no working AC or indoor lighting.

"... eighteen, nineteen - who am I missing?" You strain your eyes down at the clipboard before peering up again.

"Here," Niko raises his hand next to you which causes you to emit a small screech.

"Geez, okay," The lack of lighting plus the football player's face covered in hair did not help. You make your final check mark and signal the bus driver to start the commute. "Two rules I wanna say for this ride back: one, rest up! You guys killed it today and tomorrow morning we'll fly straight back for regional conferences, I already have your suits tailored and cleaned up in your closets. Two, absolutely no ghost stories on this bus."

Shidou, who's seated directly in front of Rin, starts to laugh and throws his head back, "Hear that? Lil' manager here is scared of the dark."

Rin can't see your expression, but he imagines you making a deep frown. You strut over to Shidou's seat and promptly smack the clipboard on his head.

"I mean it, no ghost stories!"

Bachira tips his head, his phone flashlight already propped under his chin, "But I'm great at telling ghost stories."

Gagamaru jumps in next but he keeps a straight face, "I've been to this mountain last time with my grandpa. It was also the last time I would see him."

Everyone is unsure whether he meant it as a joke or if he was recalling true events. Either way, this conversation needed to end.

You groan dramatically and plop yourself down next to Rin, making the seat bounce ever so slightly, "Please tell me you're on my side."

"He actually enjoys reading horror, your honor." Chirigi replies in amusement.

You whine in return, "What? Why?"

Rin shuffles closer to the window, feeling uncomfortable by the unwanted attention, and plugs in his earbuds, "It's just a stress reliever for me." He answers, hoping that it'll be enough. It wasn't.

"Oh, he totally wishes that all the bad things happen to his brother." Rin rolls his eyes at Isagi's comment while the shorter male and Bachira share a moment in laughter.

"Probably a sadist too." Nagi chimes, not looking up from his mobile game.

"Definitely a major sadist." Reo agrees.

If not for the fact that everyone was good on the field, Rin would've placed half of the football team six feet under by now. He turns up the volume of his earbuds and sinks deeper into the seat.

The whole bus swerves along the cliff's edge, causing everyone to grow quiet as they all grip onto their belongings and the nearest handrest. The only light available is the moon but even that wasn't going to be enough as dark clouds were rolling in. The players scramble in their seats and check their surroundings, seeing nothing but ragged bushes and the dirt road being engulfed by the night.

"Honestly," Your shaky voice is loud enough for him to hear, "this is way worst than ghost stories."

Rin is not someone anyone could go to in need of comfort. Yes, he can be rude (although kinda working on it?), but most of the time it's because he doesn't know how to be comforting. Guess it's time to put his skills in check because he really doesn't want to ride back with a paranoid seatmate.

"Wear this," He takes out his earbud and places it in your ear, handing over his phone with a music library pulled up in the process. "Pick whichever song you want."

Rin didn't expect it to work but you graciously take his phone and throw on a slow, mellow beat to hopefully calm down your frantic state. He leans back into his seat once more, watching your chest slowly fall in a rhythmic pattern and your eyes close shut as you try to calm yourself.

After a few more near-death turns and bumps in the process, the bus manages to make it back to the resort in one piece. While almost every player on board carried green faces and barf bags at the end, the older driver seems to have no issues waving everyone goodbye.

Rin didn't even notice that you and him are the last ones on the bus until he overheard his teammates asking around. He had been too engrossed in the fact that you had fallen asleep next to him.

Again, he holds back his tongue but this time it's in an attempt to hide a smile.

"How did you manage to misread the time?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"We were supposed to be there now."

Rin stifles back a groan as he watches you pace back and forth on the platform, waiting to catch the next arriving train. Except for the fact that there might not even be a train. Because the last train may or may not have run an hour ago before the construction workers closed the route off for maintenance. Heavy on the may or may not. He knew that he should've gone with the others earlier when Reo offered everyone a ride in his limousine, but Rin kindly stayed behind to help you (it was actually his turn this week) clean up the football field.

"Okay, maybe we should call a taxi instead? Or would an Uber be faster?" You anxiously play with your dress shirt before typing rapidly away at your phone for any quick solutions. "I can't believe I'm going to be late for my first sports banquet!"

Usually, Rin would keep quiet in public when it came to anything related to football. But due to the fact that the train might be delayed for the rest of the night and that you two were the only ones dressed up at the station, he didn’t care.

"It's mine too," Rin adds but with less enthusiasm. "I can guarantee that it's probably nothing special."

"What?!" You practically shrieked in shock, almost stopping in your tracks at his statement. "It's the perfect time to network and meet international players!"

The striker shrugs and kicks at nothing in particular on the ground, scuffing his brown loafers in the process. “Not usually my thing.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, "You can’t just say that when you literally just told me you haven’t been to one!" A few quiet moments pass before you let out a sound of, what he assumes, victory. "Taxi is right outside, let's go!"

You shove his body into the car, purposely ignoring his protests as you scoot closer to the center of the back seat. Your body is now pressed firmly against his and his cheek crashes into the opposing window. Rin shoots you a glare and you merely roll your eyes in response.

"You literally have all that space next to you. Do you really need to be in the center?"

"Listen here," He widens his eyes as you whip out a hairbrush and a whole skincare set from your bag. "My goal tonight is impressing all the other players and their managers. And appearance is what people notice first." You said as you apply a full-on face mask.

"You can’t be serious right now."

"Oh, but I am." You grin and shove an extra sheet mask in his hands.

It reads 'Collagen Essential Lifting & Firming Sheet Mask' in big pink letters with an image of a snail in the background. Not like he hasn't done skincare, but Rin wasn't sure if a snail really belonged on the cover image of the packaging. He tries to throw it back on your lap but your hand stops him.

You whip your head around to glare, "Put it on, or else I'm doing it for you."

Something about your sharp tone sent shivers down his spine. Rin reluctantly rips open the packaging and carefully starts placing it on his face, making sure the extra solution doesn't drip all over his suit. The mask against his skin is cold, wet, and smells nothing like snails.

He glances at the rearview mirror to see his reflection, the extra white flaps from the sheet hang off of his face in a way that reminds him of a soggy mummy, and he grimaces, "I look ridiculous."

Rin flinches when he feels your fingers on his face, grabbing the extra flaps and readjusting their position back on his cheek, "After this, you'll look like a newborn baby!"

Rin flicks his eyes away from his own reflection to scowl at you but is taken aback at your appearance. While his facemask is just a white sheet, yours had little cute characters printed on it, and he could not take you seriously.

"You look so stupid right now." He didn't mean to have his intrusive thoughts slip out so easily, especially since you're his manager, and almost backtracks his words immediately. "Stupidly cute." Wait that doesn't sound any better. His other intrusive thoughts got in the way!

"Itoshi Rin?"

"Yes?"

He feels a flick on his forehead followed by a series of giggles.

"You're such a weirdo."

"You like our manager, don't you?"

For the first time in ages, Rin misses his shot.

"What?"

Aiku stands behind with a shit-eating grin that Rin is all too familiar with. Ah, the unsolicited relationship advice from 'big brother' Aiku is what Rin likes to call it.

"C'mon, you guys are super buddy-buddy now!" Aiku attempts to rest an arm on one of Rin's shoulders but he steps aside.

While he's not completely wrong, the two of you have grown slightly comfortable with each other's presence since the banquet, Rin wouldn't quite think of anything more of it. You are a naturally sociable person and Rin just happens to have gotten used to your presence. Nothing more and nothing less.

"Don't go spreading around rumors like that." He jogs to get the ball however Aiku beats him to it and holds the ball captive between his feet.

"You smiled at them this morning." Aiku points out and awfully recreates Rin's 'smile'.

Rin rolls his eyes and tries to get the ball but Aiku pushes it further away, "That doesn't mean anything."

"Okay but recently you've been sitting together quite often." Aiku decides to start dribbling the ball down the field and Rin is quick to follow after.

"Maybe I'm just less annoying to be around."

"Would you let Isagi sit next to you? Bachira? Me?" Rin jumps in an attempt to block his shot but it barely grazes his head as it flies smoothly into the goalpost. He loses his balance and falls straight to his bottom in defeat.

"Let me help you." The taller male persistently offers and holds out a hand.

"Like you have any luck with relationships." Rin swats the hand away and begrundingly gets up. Aiku ignores the comment.

"I'll make the guys stay behind today to clean up the locker rooms so that you and our little manager can have some quality time together." Aiku puts emphasis on the last part and it's almost enough to make Rin throw his cleats at him but he saves the action in his imagination instead.

"I'm leaving," Rin dismisses his co-captain's suggestion and begins to walk off the field.

He hears Aiku clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Does arrogance run in the family or something?"

Without turning back, Rin holds up his middle finger and makes a beeline toward the locker rooms.

Getting on the subway during the afternoons is always rough for just about everyone. Unlike the mornings, which are just filled with salary men and women, the afternoon hosts a wide range of age groups and it doesn't help that the station he has to take is in a centralized location in the city. It feels like sardines packed in a tin can.

"Stand clear of the closing doors please." The automatic voice blares above his head as he leans against the wall in the corner of the train car, away from where the majority of people had gathered.

"Woah, fancy seeing you here!" Your chirpy voice makes Rin do a sharp turn as you barely squeeze through the sliding doors. The sight of it makes him recall back to the first meeting, although this time with a lack of disheveled hair and a thick binder in the way.

You swiftly manuver your body over to his spot through the sea of people, "Do you usually get off this time?" You didn't ask to be instigating but rather out of curiosity.

Rin takes hold of the top metal bar as the train starts to move, "Not really. Just needed a break from Aiku." He confesses.

"He can be a bit much."

You try and shift your weight so that you could stand up straight but it fails and you end up leaning against another passenger. The stranger sends a nasty glare while you fix your posture, apologizing profusely to them. Once again, the train car ended up being too crowded for you to secure a spot of your own and you weren't in a good position to reach for the top bar.

Subconsciously, Rin offers his arm again, not wanting to see you struggle for the remaining stops. This time around, you had no hesitation in latching your hand around his bicep. A small part of his brain wanders back to Aiku's question and it plagues his mind.

Does he like you? He knows that he doesn't mind being next to you. And he doesn't quite mind when you touch him. Talking to you feels nice too. Wait, this all sounds like a crush, he thinks. The hand on his bicep suddenly feels like it's on fire and he starts sweating.

"Sorry, is it getting hot in here?" You speak from below and he realizes that your hand is slowly slipping off by the amount he was producing due to just nerves alone.

"My bad." His free hand clasps yours back onto his bicep and he holds it in place.

"You sure? I can try grabbing something else." You suggest.

It's nerve-wracking but Rin does admit that it feels nice.

"I don't mind."

Standing next to you on the crowded train is rather fitting at the end of the day, he thinks.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #doobea writing #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #blue lock fluff

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auroravictorium · 1 year

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lavender haze (k.b.)

Summary: when the reader is injured and kaz kills someone for them (oops), they come to a realization of their feelings.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker and reader Word Count: ~1.8k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, mentions of death Genre: a bit of angst, but with a fluffy ending

Author's Note: this is part of the midnights saga (inspired by taylor swift's midnights ofc) but can be read as a oneshot or as part of the series once i've written more :)) send me requests for kaz if you so desire. only 54 days until season two of sab releases let's goooooo

“This was not the plan,” you shouted to Jesper, dodging a fist hurtling toward your face. Your muscles burned with exertion, and your skin ached with bruises from being shoved down the stairs by the targets who somehow knew you were coming. It wasn't your most graceful moment, getting pushed down hard, splintered wooden stairs. You landed at a guard's feet, to boot. An excellent start to what seemed like such an easy heist: get in, grab the rolled-up canvases of forged paintings and get out and back to the Slat before anyone could notice anything amiss.

"I think I know that," he snapped back, ripping his pistol from its holster and using it to bash his attacker in the head. The guard groaned and slumped to the wooden floor, dazed. Jesper took the chance to aim his pistol at the man trying to lock you in a chokehold. "Can you get him to stop moving?"

"I'm going to kill you if you shoot me," you snarled, bringing your knee to the man's gut and bashing his temple with your pistol. He crumpled, and you kicked the man's chest once he was on the ground. It seemed fair after shoving you down the stairs and possibly breaking your ribs. It ached horribly to breathe, and your wrist throbbed when you flexed it. Sprained, no doubt. There was no time to worry about that because another idiotic guard thundered down the stairs right toward you with two lackeys behind him.

Where were Inej, Kaz, and Nina?

You pulled the trigger on your pistol, taking a nonlethal shot at the first guard's thigh, sending him tumbling down the stairs with a shriek. See? That's how it feels, asshole.

Jesper handled the second one, and you went for the third, going for the arm this time. He howled in pain and clutched his arm, nearly tripping over his feet.

"Where's-?" you began, then your hair prickled on the back of your neck. Spinning around, you were greeted with a bash to the face. You collapsed to the ground, and your head hit the floor with an impact that rattled your teeth. You gasped for air, and black spots danced across your vision. The world spun too fast on its axis. Nothing was in focus. Distantly, Jesper shouted. You thought he was fighting the man who hit you.

Pain blossomed between your ribs, and you screamed. The world snapped sharply back into focus long enough to glimpse your attacker's face, concealed by a black scarf wrapped tightly around his head. His eyes were black as coal and filled with pure rage as he stabbed you, twisting the blade to inflict as much damage as possible.

You sobbed as he pulled the dagger free. Something sharp and metallic was bubbling in your throat, threatening to choke you. It bubbled out of your lips, painting them red and sliding down your cheek. The world around you disappeared, and you floated on nothing.

People talked, there was shouting, then more burning on your chest. Someone apologizing. A hand pressed between your ribs over your wound.

"No more," you thought you said. "Please."

You were dying. You could recognize that much.

As the chains of death fastened themselves around your wrists, cold metal biting your feverish skin, you thought of Kaz. His piercing blue eyes, how his coat looked against his pale skin, the way he brushed his fingers through his hair as he concocted heists. How he said your name so softly that you wondered if he felt the same way you did about him. Fluttery, light, hoping to give him a smile and have him smile back. All you wanted was a smile from Kaz, even if he didn't feel that same fluttering as your eyes caught.

Now you wouldn't even get that.

The world disappeared.

And then it came back.

You woke with dry lips and a pounding head. Your throat burned from a lack of water, and everything around you was blurry from unconsciousness.

You looked around at your room in the Slat. How did I get here? Shouldn't I be greeting the Saints now, not feeling like shit with water leaking from the roof onto my head?

Someone leaned forward in a creaky chair beside you, and you saw his cane before you saw him. He was sitting in a chair haphazardly shoved in the corner. It hadn't been there before you'd died, nor had Kaz. He'd never even been in your room before.

"Hi," you rasped. Internally, you winced. Hi? That's the best you could say? You died while thinking of him, and you can only muster 'hi?' Maybe you could be stabbed again and start this over.

Kaz looked you over, his face carefully arranged into a mask of neutrality. But his hair was greasy and falling into his eyes, and he had dark shadows under his eyes that made him look like he'd been punched in the face. "How are you feeling?" His voice was almost just as blank as his face. But underneath his words was.. concern. He was worried. About you.

Where the hell had you gone after you died? In what world did Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, show any emotion?

"Am I dead?" you asked him. You experimentally tried to sit up, but your chest screamed at you in pain, and Kaz's cane shot out. The tip pressed against the wall beside your bed, and you were blocked from getting up.

Kaz was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "What were you thinking? Why did you try to take all of them at once?"

"Jesper and I had it handled." Your throat throbbed, and Kaz seemed to realize that speaking was difficult. He held out a glass of water, and you lifted your head. Carefully, he tipped some of the liquid down your throat. You swallowed and sighed in relief.

"You nearly died," Kaz said. He placed the glass of water on the ground and stood, removing the cane from where it blocked you and thumping it against the floorboards. "It was reckless." His voice was lined with anger.

Anger sparked in your chest. "I woke up after being out for?"

"Three days," Kaz gritted out, whirling to face you. His eyes were ablaze, and you nearly shrunk under that look. It was so unlike him, usually so cold and stoic, that having that emotion directed at you was startling. But you didn't back down and forced yourself into a sitting position despite the searing pain and stiff bandages around your chest.

"Three days, and the first thing you do is decide to yell at me? I'm sorry I almost died, but I would appreciate it if you could wait to lecture me until I'm not about to keel over from pain."

His jaw flexed. He was furious. Much more than you realized. His eyes closed, and his chest expanded and contracted as he took a deep breath. "You nearly died," he said again. His voice was calmer now, and you found yourself softening. "When Inej and I found you nearly bleeding out while Jesper tried to stem the blood, I wanted to kill the person who did this to you." He inhaled again and turned his back to you.

He was silent for a few long moments. "Kaz?" you whispered. He was within your reach but felt so far away. Especially since he didn't like to be touched, and you didn't dare push that boundary to get his attention.

"I did," he admitted. "While Nina worked on you, Jesper and I followed him, and I killed him."

You didn't prompt him to continue this time. He so rarely shared his thoughts. You didn't want to ruin this.

"Killing him didn't keep you from nearly dying," he said quietly. "Your heart stopped. I thought I'd never..." The words died in his throat.

Your hand twitched with the urge to reach out to him. He was trying to say what he felt, but Kaz Brekker wasn't good with emotions. He hadn't been since he nearly drowned in the harbor.

"You said my name while you slept," he said roughly. He turned back to face her, his blue eyes on fire with something you struggled to identify immediately. Later, you recognized it as desperation.

He needed you to say it. He worked so hard to keep all his emotions beneath the surface that they refused to come to him when he called. He felt them all, burning beneath his skin, pleading to be shared, only to disappear when summoned.

You didn't struggle as intensely. "I thought of you when I was dying," you breathed. The words were quiet, shy. Almost ashamed that you hadn't thought of someone else, like your best friend from home. "I thought of you smiling."

Kaz nearly laughed out of sheer amazement. "You've never seen me smile."

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. "But I want to. And I thought I would die without seeing it at least once."

The room was so silent your ears almost started ringing. Then the floorboards creaked, and Kaz sat in the chair beside your bed again. You exhaled slowly, relieved that he didn't open the door and disappear. It was the worst-case scenario that had haunted your dreams. But he hadn't, and he was back beside you again. It was closer than you'd ever expected to be to him.

"Don't die on me again, and maybe you will see it," he said. He rested his cane against the wall and stretched out his legs. Behind his words was relief. You understood what he was trying to say and felt the same, and you were alive. He had the chance to say this to you. For the first time in a long time, Kaz found himself nearly thanking the Saints.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you looked over and met his eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, and his lip quirked up in the corners, ever-so-slightly. You smiled back and looked down at your hands.

You were on the precipice of something new. It was something you'd wanted for so long that you couldn't believe this was real.

"I'm still going to lecture you for almost dying," Kaz said, breaking the silence. He looked at you seriously, but a glimmer of something danced in his eyes. Despite the threat, you couldn't help but wheeze a quiet laugh.

"I expect nothing less, Boss."

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andreas-river · 1 year

Note

Hey i hope you're doing good, i was wondering if you could write a oneshot where könig finds out reader harms herself? If your not comfortable with this it's totally okay

König X Fem!Civilian!Reader

Words count: approx. 1.5k

Disclaimer: this is a fictional piece, but talks about difficult themes. Read at your discrection. If you are experiencing this, please, please, talk to someone, or seek professional help. Pain is a subtle enemy; don't underestimate it.

Warnings: mention and description of self-harm, blood, cuts and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of bullying, self-destructive thoughts, angst.

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You don't remember exactly how you ended up back in your room: your legs moved on their own, and your hands trembled, pushed by the unhealthy desire that hovered inside your head.

You knew it was wrong, but you kept doing it. Ever since you were a teenager, you had felt the need to forget years of bullying and insults, which led to various episodes of self-harm until it became part of your routine.

It wasn't just a desire, it was a need. The red liquid that slowly poured out of the cuts was the only relief as everything else lost its meaning, your body was out of touch with the reality around you.

You no longer felt anything, your emotions erased one by one with each cut on your skin.

Even though you could see the bloodied arms in front of you, it was as if they were not there.

You could even taste the metallic taste on your tongue, but you paid no attention to it, not even the smell alarmed your nose: it was okay, it was your routine.

And it went on for so long that you lost track of time, day after day you found yourself sitting on the floor of your bathroom, letting go of the self-destructive instinct that had now taken total control.

The clock on the wall struck midnight, and you let your eyes wander without focus, like a distant spectator.

Through the open door you could clearly see the hallway leading to your bedroom: you remembered well all the sleepless nights you had spent in the past weeks, your eyes fixed on the empty side of the bed, often occupied by König.

That was your almost boyfriend? No, best friend - not even. You were both something abstract, unspoken: the relationship had no definite form or meaning, nor did the way you met. It was in the airport, while you were working in one of the cafes in the airport.

You were distracted by too many customer orders, organizing yourself among the various demands, when the trace of a man had obscured your view. He had his head covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, the military pattern clearly visible in the fabric: in fact, he looked like a soldier, his posture confident and determined.

But when your eyes landed on his blue ones, it was like seeing a frightened boy: he showed confidence, but you could clearly see when he was tense, as one of his clenched hands rested on the counter.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you had said with a smile, and as if he had woken up from a daydream, he gave you his full attention.

"A hot chocolate..." You saw him struggle as a small smile formed on his lips. "...please."

You had simply nodded, and for the next twenty minutes he stood there, motionless, drinking his hot chocolate, only occasionally letting his eyes wander elsewhere - his attention locked on you.

It was not the first time someone had looked at you; many men passed through this airport.

But you were surprised when, in the weeks that followed, you saw him every day sitting at the counter at the same time, always ordering the same chocolate.

That's how it all started, but you weren't sure it was anything concrete. He had given you his attention and time so many times, and every time he could leave the military base, he was back at the door of your apartment. And now he even had a copy of the keys.

It wasn't bad to have someone, but even though your feelings for him were clear, everything else had stopped making sense to you.

A phone call you received the next morning was the last straw: your boss had fired you for not showing up to work the last few days.

But you didn't really care. Not anymore.

And as you absentmindedly listened to the ticking of the clock, you heard the one sound you were not expecting at that moment.

It was the very distinctive sound of the lock on the front door, followed by footsteps that you immediately recognized.

You tried to get up, but with your hands slippery from the blood and your form trembling, you fell back down: the loud thud immediately alarmed König, which made him hurry to the source of the sound.

That's where he found you, lying on the bathroom floor with your arms covered in blood.

You almost didn't feel his hands lift you from the floor and bring you to your feet, even though you put all your weight on him.

He doesn't speak when he washes and cleans your wounds, nor when he wraps them up: his gaze is fixed only on you, he doesn't even care that he has his uniform or plates or even his knives with him.

He makes you walk slowly to the bedroom, makes you sit on the edge, crouches in front of you and between your legs: you can clearly see his worried eyes and on the verge of crying, which makes your heart sink. It happened that you saw him in the middle of an anxious moment, but he never cried in front of you.

He takes your hands in his big ones, wrapping them in a comfortable grip. "Liebling?"

"Hey..." you try to say, even though you have no more words: you never expected him to discover your secret.

"Since when?" he asks, trying to pull you out of the deep abyss your mind has been sinking into for so long.

"Years..." you sniffled, realizing that you were crying. And feeling an emotion for the first time in a long time.

"I was bullied at school... even insulted by a teacher. I can't even remember the reason," a sad smile appeared on your face, memories of those years flashing through your mind.

You heard him sigh and let go the grip in one of your hands to remove his helmet and hood: you had seen his face many times before, but you could never really get used to it: his blue eyes stood out against his black hair, which had grown a little longer than usual, with a hint of stubble on his chin and along his jawline.

"It's not easy to talk about," he begins, looking at you intently. "I... was bullied when I was a kid. And it didn't stop when I joined the military." He laughs slightly, trying to break the tension in the room.

"Why did they..." you tried to ask, afraid to invade his privacy.

"I wanted to be a sniper - it turned out I was too tall, and I can't sit still even when I eat." His smile is contagious, and you find yourself giggling along with him. In fact, you remember a time when the two of you were eating Chinese food in your apartment: he was changing positions every five minutes, whether it was his legs or his posture.

The room was silent again, and you looked into each other's eyes: you felt lightheaded, but you didn't know if it was from the cuts or from the fact that König was watching you from underneath, or both.

"I came here to stay," he says, his hands reaching up to your face, completely covering it, making your face completely flush. "I'm not going to leave you again until you feel better. I don't care if you wake me up in the middle of the night because you feel the need to hurt yourself again, or if you want to go for a walk at four in the morning. You are not just " someone" to me." König feels like a flood as he admits the words in front of you, unable to stop as he watches your eyes tear up again.

"I want to be with you and for you. I want to protect you and..."

You don't let him continue, throwing your arms on his shoulders, hugging him, letting his scent envelop you completely, his big body swallowing your small one. You both let out a relieved cry, holding each other as you sit on the floor of your room, letting everything you had buried come to the surface.

Even though you don't know how long you both stayed in that position, his arms and his voice lulled you to sleep, repeating the same words in your ear over and over again.

"Ich bin dein.." *

* I am yours.

#könig x reader #könig x you #cod könig x reader #könig x fem reader #könig modern warfare #könig cod #cod könig #cod konig #könig #call of duty #cod #call of duty mw2 #request #request open

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s0lam33y · 6 months

Text

when i come around

A/n: no Bc i had no idea where this story was going but it’s a cute little oneshot. Lmk what y’all think!

Riri is capable of so many things, she can create suits from metal scraps and fix cars at the speed of light. She’s fit, so much so that she always grabs you to move you instead of speaking. She’s a great cook, an outstanding mother but you don’t seem to be the only one impressed with her abilities.

You don’t know how to manage being a hero, a mother, and working as a mechanic. But you do your best to help and to do so, you always try to drop Riri off some lunch at her garage. Once you do get there, you can tell she’s been busy.

You watch Riri lean back against the detailed Honda Accord, you can tell by the grease on her overalls and the towel over her shoulder that she just finished it up. She’s chatting up a customer with a look that you’re trying to put your finger on. She’s never been flirtatious and you can tell by the genuine smile on her face that she’s interested in the topic of the conversation.

You feel a tug at the sleeve of your hoodie rather, Riri’s MIT hoodie on you before looking down.

“Who’s that mama?” Amira questions, big wide eyes meeting yours. You look back at the woman your wife is speaking to, she’s dressed in a black pencil skirt and a blouse, and all you can see is long black hair cascading down her back.

“Ion know, a customer.” You shrug. It’s been a long day and you wanted to see Riri since you were bored at home today.

You watch her stretch mid-convo, revealing a strip of her toned abdomen. Oh, she doesn’t put in any effort to be a flirt but she somehow does anyway.

As you get closer you hear more of their conversation.

“Yeah no, this was lightweight, she’s as good as new.” Riri compliments, smoothing a hand over the top of the car.

Her and her detailing.

“Thank you, I’ll definitely be here more often.” The woman’s voice is sultry and her vowels drag out for longer than they should.

“Right.” Riri mumbles, the smile slowly fading off her face as she turns around to begin working on another car. You watch the woman call her again and slip a card in her hand, Riri begins squinting at her and the corner of her lip curls up in irritation.

“I’m cool, I’m married.” She shrugs, her voice monotone as she hands the card back.

You don’t want to admit it but it gives you the ego boost of a fucking lifetime. That doesn’t stop the woman though and you watch her reach for Riri’s shoulder all for your wife to clutch her wrist.

“I said I’m cool, I have a wife…You ain’t welcome here anymore, aight? Get in your car,” She orders. You can’t see the woman’s face at all but she slips into her car quickly and drives off.

You watch Riri sigh in irritation and roll her eyes before turning back around and working on the car she was working on before being interrupted. While she’s underneath it, Amira’s little red crocs catch her eye and she slides out with a tired smile on her face and immediately greets your daughter.

“Hi, Mira baby.” She smiles as she lifts Amira up into a hug. She spends some time asking about your daughter about her day which makes Amira begin to babble and go from one subject to another. While your daughter is off talking about school, Riri sneaks in a kiss on your cheek.

“Good day?” You question as she holds Amira in one arm and uses the other to squeeze your hand.

You ponder on bringing up the previous client. You’re nowhere near bothered by it, if anything you’re amused. But you can’t possibly ruin the moment when Riri’s watching Amira so attentively.

“Yeah, great day.” You smile. You watch Riri put your daughter down.

“Get started on your math work, so we can knock it out before your mom gets on you.” She says as Amira aims for the corner of the garage. It used to belong to you, at first I was just a hangout spot for you and Riri when you first became a couple. It had a simple carpet, a grey but large beanbag, and a mini fridge. Then you added more of your own stuff to pass time with Riri while she worked on her suit. You added posters of your favorite bands and artists, a small table, and a couple of books.

Over time, it’s transformed and the space went from what it previously was to two pink beanbags since they were Amira’s favorite color, the smallest mini fridge so she can reach it, and a table full of toys for her to play with.

“What’s up with you?” Riri questions, noticing that you’ve zoned out. You look into big curious eyes that happen to match your daughters.

“Nothing’s up,” You shrug still holding onto her food in one hand. She puts a hand on your waist beneath her hoodie to pull you in for a kiss to the jaw.

“Girl, you told me you don’t steal my clothes.” She murmurs, mocking your words from earlier this week.

“I lied.” You admit. Despite her smelling like motor oil and her body being slick with the sheer heat of being beneath a car, you wrap your arms around her broad shoulders.

“I missed you today.” She confesses as she kisses your jaw again.

“Yeah, I did too.” You pull up the container of food you’ve brought for her. The mere thought of food makes her lick her lips.

“I need to eat-“ She begins.

“Mama, does six plus five equal twelve?” Amira hollers from her corner of the garage. Riri turns around, doing her best not to laugh at her daughter’s genuine frustration before looking back at you.

“It’s fine, I didn’t know that shit till I was like five.” Riri shrugs, kissing your lips and tending to your daughter. You watch Riri lift her up into her lap and gently kiss her temple to aid in calming her frustration.

“Listen, baby. Count with your fingers when you’re stuck, you’re real smart but don’t try to do it in your head.” Riri suggests. She’s always been so good at calming a person down, whether it’s you, her mother, or your daughter.

“Or, we can do the tally marks like your mom taught you. She’s real smart too.” Riri continues, briefly looking up only to find that you’ve been gazing at her this whole time.

“I wanna do the tally marks.” Amira sighs. She looks just like you when she huffs like that.

“Yeah, that’s a good pick. Put five down and then do another six.”

You walk over to the plushy pink beanbag that’s across from them and continue to watch them. Her food will be cold by the time she’s done but it’s worth it.

@xchoxix @pvnks0ul

#riri williams #black panther #riri x reader #riri williams x you #riri williams x reader

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its-all-stardust · 1 month

Text

Guardian Angel

Masterlist

Joel Miller/GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Prompt: Sometimes guardian angels don’t have a lovely singing voice and a set of fluffy wings, sometimes they have a deep frown on their face and a very bad attitude. (from creativepromptsforwriting)

Notes: this was meant to be a lot shorter 🥲 (not that it's technically long, but still). this is me attempting to write shorter fics/prompts as a way of refining my writing for oneshots so they don't drag on. this fic isn't anything special/impressive, but exists as a writing exercise.

You never considered yourself useless, but you were pretty sure Joel Miller thought you were.

He came to Jackson in the spring with a teenage girl in tow. He said she wasn’t his daughter, but everyone could see the relationship all the same.

Joel got put to work right away. As a right of passage for anyone looking to go on patrol—one of the only things Joel was truly interested in—they shadowed you in the stables. You’re technically not Jackson’s stablemaster, but you had the best attitude when it came to training newbies on how to handle and take care of a horse.

You were a good teacher and had the patience to deal with both an angry rider and their annoyed mount. A talent few possessed, so you’ve been told. Your bright attitude, helpful nature, and unwillingness to give up truly allowed you to flourish in your role.

“Have you ever worked with a horse before?” was the first question you always asked a resident who hadn’t come from Jackson.

“I’ve ridden one before,” Joel said, his voice low, like he didn’t want to be heard.

“Okay, but that’s not what I asked.” Riding a horse was different from working with it, trusting it. You couldn’t race along the paths around Jackson, running from or chasing Infected if your mount’s instincts differed from yours.

Despite how gently you said it, the words still made Joel frown and eye you up and down like you’d lost your mind. He hadn’t said anything, though, so you counted it as a win.

A couple of months later, Joel still greeted you with a scowl.

He’d graduated from stable work, riding and caring for his horse with ease, having become one of your top students. You still saw him at the end of every one of his rounds when he returned to the stables.

You tried not to take his gruff demeanor and permanent frown to heart. Despite his apparent dislike of you, he’d never actually said anything rude or condescending. He was always polite, even with his lack of interest in conversation. No matter how hard you tried to pull him in, get him talking, the most you would get was a word or two amongst the volley of grunts that typically served as his answers.

You kept talking to him anyway because, well, he never told you to stop.

The times you got him to talk, though, were always circumstantial and more often related to something you were about to do or something about to happen to you.

“Watch it,” Joel called, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the carelessly tossed shovel left near one of the stable doors. “You gotta look where you’re going.”

You knew the stables like the back of your hand; you didn’t need to look up to see where you were going—at least, you never thought you did. You were focused on the torn harness in your hands, examining it and wondering if it could be salvaged or if it was better going into the scrap pile. The last thing you were worried about was watching where your feet were stepping.

Startled by Joel’s sudden outburst and handling of you, you stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before noticing the shovel. It wasn’t anything major; the most that would have happened to you would have been your foot catching on the curve where the wooden handle met the metal. You were around horses all day, every day; you’ve experienced worse than a stumble from a shovel.

Nevertheless, you wholeheartedly thanked Joel.

“I really should,” you said, smiling at him. “But my mind is always somewhere else.”

“I’ve noticed,” he said under his breath.

And it continued like that for months. By the end of fall, Joel always seemed to be there, rescuing you from things that wouldn’t have amounted more to a bump or bruised ego.

“Don’t hit your head,” he said when you tried to stand too soon after crawling under a table chasing after a runaway buckle for the harness you were repairing. Joel’s hand had been hovering over your head, and when you tried to rise, the back of his hand scrapped against the table.

You thanked him again and politely didn’t say anything about why he felt the need to suddenly crouch at your side to save you from some scrapped skin.

“Like this,” he said when he saw you trying to repair a stall wall. He took the hammer from your hand before you could say anything and promptly started hammering the exact same way you had been. “Gotta move your hand once you get the nail in so you don’t hit yourself.”

“Thanks…” you said awkwardly, less enthusiastic than all the other appreciative words you’ve given out. The man had apparently never seen you do repair work around the stables in all the time he’d been in Jackson.

“Let me,” was said when you were mucking out the stalls. You had the wheelbarrow full and were about to take it outside when Joel stepped up. That, you were fine with him handling, but part of you wondered if he thought you were incapable. Did he really think shoveling shit was beyond you?

It was all, admittedly, a little much.

You didn’t usually get annoyed at people. No one quite got on your nerves enough. And if they came close, you were a master at redirection—either of their attention or your work—which helped to avoid much direct conversation.

Joel, on the other hand, was like your shadow. No amount of running or insisting you didn’t help couldn’t keep him away from you. There was even one instance where you thought he was on patrol, only to turn around and see him staring you down from the stable doors.

Then, one day, one of the horses returned from patrol with a nasty scrape on its shoulder. It had slammed into a tree during a chase with a small group of Infected. The rider managed to get it back to Jackson okay, but once it was in the stable, the stallion started fighting back, not wanting to be touched.

All the horses in Jackson trusted you more than they trusted any of their riders. You figured you’d be able to calm the beast down so he could get treated.

“Woah, woah!” you called, hands raised in front of you, and you stepped back as the stallion, Ash, reared up. “It’s okay, you’re okay, boy.” You kept your voice soft, gentle, after screaming at everyone around you to keep quiet. Loud sounds weren’t going to help a skittish horse.

All four legs down on the ground again, Ash was still wide-eyed, chest heaving. He realized he was surrounded, looking around and stamping his feet at the circle of people trying to wrangle him. One of the other stablehands, thinking he could lasso the stallion, got too close to Ash’s rear. Ash spied him and kicked out a back leg, nearly catching the man in the chest before he stumbled back just in time.

After that, you waved everyone away. You thought nothing of the new shadow in the doorway behind Ash.

“Now, now, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you continued to soothe. You said nonsense a horse couldn’t understand, but you needed him to hear your voice, recognize you, and realize he was safe.

Ash’s breathing steadily started to even out, and you braved taking a step closer. He was still in his harness, the reins hanging down. If you could grab it, you could lead him back to his stall, giving him more time to settle away from people and other horses until he could get treated.

But Ash wasn’t as calm as you had thought. Instead, he had apparently been readying himself to lash out again.

You didn’t see it, not until it was too late, until you were too close. But someone else did.

“Move!” A voice shouted just as Ash reared up again. The next thing you knew, you were tackled to the ground, a loud grunt of pain sounding in your ear just before you landed.

There was shouting and Ash neighing, but you could only focus on Joel.

He hovered above you, staring down. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice strained. Ash had kicked him, you realized. Ash would have kicked you square in the chest if Joel hadn’t intervened.

His brow was furrowed, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or concern for you.

“Are you alright?” You sat up, needing to check Joel over. Depending on how hard Ash got him and the angle, Joel could have had a broken shoulder or ribs.

“‘M fine,” he said, trying to brush you off. He kept staring at you, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out and touch you.

“You just got kicked by a horse, Joel.” You gently touched his right shoulder and caught him wincing.

You heard Ash squeal then and tensed, preparing for another outburst. But, thankfully, the others had finally caught him. He wasn’t happy and still struggling, but they were able to lead him to his stall, where they could leave him until he would let someone approach and tend his wound.

Able to breathe a sigh of relief, you turned back to Joel.

“Why did you do that?” you couldn’t help but ask. You were pretty sure Joel disliked you at best. What would have made him take a kick from a distressed horse for you?

“Someone has to watch out for you,” he said, somehow looking both inconvenienced and…shy.

You stared at him, stunned, unable to move even as he stood and held out his hand.

Joel Miller couldn’t…

Could he?

You took so long to do anything, Joel started to drop his hand. Your hand quickly shot out, grabbing his in a death grip. As he pulled you to your feet, pain flashed across his face. He used his bad side to help you.

Without letting go of his hand, you said, “Let’s go get you checked out.”

Joel’s protest died on his lips when he saw the look on your face. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.

After that, you let Joel take care of you however he saw fit, and on occasion, you returned the favor.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #x reader

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buckys-wintersoldier · 5 months

Text

Adoption | Steve Rogers; part two

Pairing -> Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary -> After Eva asked Steve to adopt her and he happily said yes, you’re inside with your friends and family to finally tell them about the adoption.

Warnings -> (G) none, just fluff

Wordcount -> 2.1k

Request -> I loved the adoption story!!! It was so cute!!! 😍 I can 100% see Steve crying as the documents are signed and Bucky wearing a 'fun-cle' shirt and thumping him on the back to get him through it lol 😆

A/N -> Thank you so much for your kind words, it really means a lot and I’m glad you loved the oneshot. I thought of making a second part with your ask so here we are. I want to thank @lives-in-midgard for helping me with some parts.

Masterlist | Fandom-Free Bingo | AFG Fluff Bingo | Steve Rogers Masterlist | Adoption Part 1

When the three of you are in front of your friends and family, Steve holds the piece of paper in the air. His smile is almost from one side of his face to the other, and his hand is around Eva’s shoulder, making sure she is really close to him.

“She wants me to adopt her,” he says proudly, and the others, the Avengers, clap into their hands while they all cheer loudly. “And I said yes,” he adds, kissing the head of your daughter before letting go of her so she can go to Natasha.

Natasha is a lot older than Eva, but she is like her big sister combined with her best friend. And your daughter always tells her everything, sometimes before she tells you, but you don’t mind; you understand the way she loves the red-haired woman. And Natasha couldn’t be someone better for her as she is; she helps Eva a lot and has every time for the little girl when she wants attention or just cuddles.

“I asked him, and he said yes." She almost shouts and throws her small arms around Natasha's neck.

She laughs softly, wrapping her arms around Eva and lifting her to walk to the couch to sit down. Placing the girl on her lap and listening to every detail Eva wants to tell her.

You turn to Steve; he still has some tears in the corner of his eyes, and you understand it. You would probably feel the same way when the child of your partner asks you to adopt them.

Your husband places the paper on the counter next to him and smiles at you. His eyes brighten when he looks a short moment over your shoulder to see the little girl happily talking about the situation outside with the adoption.

“I didn’t know this year could start that well,” he mumbles. “I thought I’m already the happiest man on earth or in the universe, multiverse, with a wife like you and a little girl like Eva,” he adds, and you see the tears of joy in his eyes getting more again.

Before you can say anything, you hear Bucky shouting from the other side of the room. He immediately gets the attention of Steve and you.

“Daddy Stevie,” he says and walks closer, opening his arms to welcome the two of you into his embrace.

You adore Bucky; he is the most wonderful uncle, next to the others, for your little daughter. But even though the others are like uncles for her, Bucky is a bit of a special uncle.

When he met Eva the first time, he immediately accepted her, which is a surprise because the man with the steel blue eyes, slightly curly brown hair, and metal arm is known for being grumpy. But the little girl has his heart; whenever she is there, he is laughing with her, joking around, and the grumpy Bucky isn’t there. And Eva loves the man as well, not only his metal arm but also his strength, his jokes, and the way he treats her and takes care of her in the most beautiful way he can as an uncle.

Bucky comes to a halt when he stands in front of you and Steve. He covers his t-shirt with his arms, but you see something on it. It could be something the two of you talked about, but you’re not sure until he lets his arms fall down and reveals the words on the t-shirt.

‘Fun-cle’

like a dad, only cooler

See also: strict, boring.

The dad

“I designed it,” Bucky says proudly when Steve looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Strict and boring?” he asks, getting a nod from his best friend.

“Wanna bet who she loves more?"

Bucky looks at Steve with a grin on his lips. Then he places his hand on Steve's shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pal. She loves you a lot; otherwise, she wouldn’t ask you to be his dad. But let’s be honest, she would say yes to me too; you just got y/n; that’s why you can be Eva’s dad,” Bucky jokes, and Steve shakes his head about the silliness before he remembers the piece of paper.

“I still need to sign it,” he mumbles, looking to the side where the paper is lying.

“But first, we’re going to change your t-shirt,” Bucky says emphatically.

Steve rolls his eyes slightly and kisses your shoulder and your neck a few times. His breath meets your skin, and you feel the goosebumps all over your body. Your husband chuckles before he lets go of you and walks with Bucky out of the room to change the t-shirt.

“Eva, could you come here for a moment?” you ask when you turn to your daughter.

She looks at you before she nods and kisses Natasha’s cheek softly. The red-haired woman smiles and turns around to talk to someone else while Eva walks towards you.

“Uncle Bucky will tell you a funny story about your dad when you say that Bucky is the best,” you tell your little daughter, and the mischievous grin on her face says everything she thinks right now.

“You and Uncle Bucky want to annoy Daddy, right?” she asks. “I knew; you looked at me like that,” Eva tells you.

Before you can say anything, Steve and Bucky walk back into the room. They both wear the shirts Bucky bought for them. Steve chuckles when he sees your daughter with a huge smile next to you.

“Hey, princess,” Bucky says, opening his arms for his favorite girl.

She runs into his arms and hugs him tightly. He places his big hands on her small back and holds her against him while he grins at Steve.

“My favorite girl, huh?" Bucky says, and Eva immediately nods.

“You’re my absolute favorite and the best uncle, Bucky,” she says and looks up at him, knowing she will annoy her dad with it.

"See, Stevie, I told you.”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks at you. The way he looks at you shows you that he exactly knows what you told her.

“What does she get for saying that?” Steve asks, and you shrug, pretending like you don’t know what he is talking about.

He walks a step closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him. You can feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin and his fingers digging into your waist, and he looks at you with a huge smile.

“Don't you want to tell me? I’m pretty sure you will, at least when we’re in bed,” he mumbles into your ear, and you shiver slightly.

“I told her Bucky would tell her a story about you. And you know she uses every chance to annoy you when she can,” you explain, and your husband nods.

Bucky lifts the little girl and kisses her forehead a few times before he looks into Eva’s eyes.

“You have the same blue eyes as Uncle Bucky, don’t you?” he asks, and your daughter giggles happily.

“Mommy said you tell me a story when I say you’re the best,” she says as quietly as she can, so Steve wouldn’t understand her.

Bucky looks at you with a big smile on his lips before he shakes his head and walks with her to the table. He places her on top of it and stands between her small legs. Looking at Steve and showing him to finally sign the papers for the adoption.

“Don’t you want to sign up? I can do this for you too,” he shouts, and Eva grips the paper to wave them in front of Bucky's face.

“Can you sign those too?” She asks, looking with her big blue eyes at Bucky.

He shakes his head with a chuckle but takes the papers and hands them to Steve, who walks closer. Bucky turns to your little daughter again and tickles her while she tries to escape his grip. But the brown-haired man is way stronger, and she needs to beg while she laughs to make him stop.

“Oke the story about your dad,” Bucky starts and sees the expression of Steve, which definitely tells him he shouldn’t dare tell you about it. “When Steve was a little man, we were on Coney Island. And little Stevie thought a roller coaster was a good idea,” Bucky continues, and you almost burst out laughing when you remember the moment Steve told you about it.

“He loved those roller coasters, but after five times, he threw up in the middle of them. Luckily, we sat at the end of it, so it just landed on the ground and not in someone’s face." Bucky finishes his story, and your little daughter looks at Steve, finally knowing a story she can embarrass her dad with.

Steve rolls his eyes, and then he looks down at the papers. His hands are sweating and the tears are burning in his eyes, but he has a big smile on his lips. Just a signature away from being your little daughter's dad, a moment he waited so long for and you often talked about it.

Bucky sees the tears in the eyes of his best friend and places his hand on Steve's shoulder. His thumb rubs slowly over Steve’s back.

With a deep breath, the blond-haired man smiles and looks at his daughter next to him before he reaches for a pen and puts his signature under the text on the paper. Then he can’t stop the tears anymore when he looks up and into the smiling face of his little girl.

You love to see her smiling at him. And you’re glad you married Steve; you can’t imagine a better father for your daughter than him. And you wouldn’t choose someone else when you could, never. Steve shows you a part of yourself you would have never known when he wasn't there. A part that is always happy and loved. You try not to cry as well when you see your husband crying, but a few tears roll down your cheek when you realize how lucky you are.

“Don’t cry, or I need to cry as well, pal,” Bucky mumbles, wiping a small tear away.

Eva chuckles while he wraps his arms around Bucky's neck and kisses his nose.

“It’s oke uncle Buck; men can cry too,” Eva says, smiling encouragingly at him.

You can’t stop yourself from laughing; with your hands, you hold your stomach. Steve smiles too, while Bucky shakes his head softly before he kisses Eva’s forehead.

“Your daddy is crying too,” he says, looking to the side.

Eva follows him and sees her dad crying too. She lets go of Bucky and pats his head before she opens her little arms for Steve. He immediately wraps his arms around her and lifts her up, spinning her around the way she loves and making her giggle.

“You’re my little princess, huh? For all time. Always,” he chuckles and kisses her cheek before he spins her around even more.

“I’m daddy’s princess and a plane; look, uncle Tony. UNCLE TONY LOOK,” she shouts and opens her arm.

Tony and the other Avengers laugh and cheer, shouting some congratulations through the room. You walk closer to Bucky, looking at him.

“What’s up, doll?” he asks.

“Thank you for always being here for us. And I’m glad I asked you to be her godfather; you’re definitely the best,” you tell him, and his smile grows.

Bucky wraps one of his arms around your shoulder and the other around Steve, who is standing with Eva in his arm on the other side of him. He pulls you close, and it doesn’t take long for the others to join that hug.

“You knew they would make a sandwich out of us,” you giggle, and Bucky nods with a wink at you.

“But you like it,” Steve says, and you roll your eyes, making your little daughter giggle even more.

“Yeah, I love it.”

“And I love you.” You blush when he looks at you, and you feel nothing but happiness inside of you.

This is your family and your home. With all those chaotic people, they are your chaotic people.

144 notes · View notes

melodymunson · 3 months

Text

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Chrissy Cunningham oneshot

Baby love me, apocalyptic

5.3K words

ao3

warnings p in v sex, threesome, pussy eating, fingering, use of a toy (dildo), cum swallowing, pure filth, cream pie, raunchy smut and pure filth, unprotected & protected sex, blowjob, handjob, mentions of cheating. (not Eddie or reader + a big fuck you to Jason Carver).

backstory: Eddie, Chrissy, and reader are all college age. Chrissy is 20, reader and Eddie 22. Its the year 1988 and Chrissy is back in town from college. Reader lives with Eddie and he is still Chrissy's drug dealer. Chrissy didnt die in 1986 and its slightly AU. The fruity four defeated Vecna in 1986 along with Eleven and Max except Vecna comes back years later.

Synopsis: You were former friends with Chrissy Cunningham. One day she showed up to visit the trailer park to buy some Ketamine from Eddie. What started as a rocky evening led to a night none of you could ever forget. (A little re-imagining at the end and Chrissy does not die in this Stranger Things universe).

Eddie was your boyfriend and your best friend. After being long-term friends for the first three years of high school, you began dating. Your former best friend Chrissy had joined the popular crowd, and she became the head cheerleader. You were not on the best terms with her anymore, but had been best friends for about 7 years and had known each other since elementary school. There was a time when you could tell her anything and you were practically inseparable. Some days you missed her a lot, but it was great that you had Eddie. Even though you were both outcasts, you still really understood each other and had a lot of fun together, no matter what you did. Just sitting next to him and listening to heavy metal music was good enough for you. He was the person you told all of your secrets to now that Chrissy was a part of your past since 11th grade.

Chrissy needed to buy some ketamine, and she knew Eddie had the goods. After she arrived at his trailer and they exchanged pleasantries, they made the deal and she came inside to pay for them. You and Eddie had been rolling joints, and you felt all relaxed and mellowed out. You had just had a shower together, and it was great to just get comfortable on the couch with him and listen to heavy metal. It was a great time until she showed up, at least. She said hi to you and you nodded as you gave a very vague response to her. Things were awkward. After she sat down, you pulled him in close to you. He offered Chrissy the joint, and she accepted. As it was passed around, you felt so good and relaxed. It was already the second joint you had shared with him that day and it was just what you needed. After some silence ensued, you broke it by speaking up first.

"So why did you come here, Chrissy?"

"I needed to make a deal with Eddie. I don't know why you care, though it's just business. I haven't even talked to you in years now," she replied with simply a shrug of her shoulders.

This was news to you because Eddie had promised you a date night, just the two of you. He knew you had a falling out with her, just not the details, but the tension was so thick in the room that it could be cut with a knife.

"I'm just surprised you would come over to Eddie's place with him being a social outcast and everything. I guess you didn't expect me to be here even though practically the whole town knows we are dating," you told her with a roll of your eyes.

"Look, if this is too uncomfortable for you, then I'll just leave. I'll make it simple for you."

She got up, and Eddie stopped her by holding her back.

"Wait, don't go. We can figure this out," Eddie told her in a promising tone.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Just stay then. It doesn't matter, I guess. Whatever," you responded as you flicked the ash from the joint and passed it over to Eddie again.

"Fine. I guess I will stay for 5 more minutes."

She sat back down with her legs crossed and her arms crossed around her chest. Eddie looked over at you and mouthed, 'Calm down.' You were glad he was there to intervene, and even though you were pretty skeptical about Chrissy staying, you were glad that a fight hadn't ensued. He always kept cool and level-headed. You secretly wondered if she had bought drugs from him before. You were a bit jealous, but also had some pretty strong feelings for Chrissy. That was over now, or so you thought. Eddie was yours and you trusted him. You knew nothing could come between the two of you. You were the biggest supporter of his band Corroded Coffin, and you shared a bond with him that neither of you had with anyone else.

"She wasn't supposed to come over until tomorrow. You have every right to be pissed off, though," he explained before taking another drag of the joint.

"Just forget it. I'll put on some music for us," you told them as you got up and turned on the radio. The song playing was PainKiller by Judas Priest. It was one of Eddie's favorites. He started nodding along to the song as you returned to the couch and sat on his lap, hoping to make her jealous.

It felt like impending doom some days because Hawkins had the reputation of being a very dismal town with a dark past and history. Victor and Henry Creel were the town outcasts and their family was the town's legends, but for all the wrong reasons. Life was random, but you cherished it and even though it was full of loss sometimes, you would not give up on Eddie and you hoped you could repair the damaged friendship you had with Chrissy. Secretly, you thought she felt the same. Having her around sure was interesting. Eddie felt sometimes like he couldn't deal with the big jumble of thoughts constantly going through his head, and if Vecna's curse was real, he felt he was screwed. Instead of dwelling on that, he planned to make the most of each day and do what he could to make it through. With you by his side, things were so much more bearable. With Chrissy having a hectic and rough home life, she vowed to not let it fully control her. Getting better was a slow process for her, but she was taking it a little at a time and day by day.

When you used to have sleepovers with Chrissy, you would always share a bed. Her room was fully decked out in pink shades, but for you, it was just the opposite. You loved horror movies and metal instead of all girly things, but your friendship still worked just like opposites attract. Having so much time with her and sleeping next to each other made your feelings for her grow. Even though she was just your friend, your feelings became deeper for her, but you never told her. Occasionally, you would practice kissing each other and you felt even more attracted to her because of it. Getting popular changed her a bit, and you drifted your separate ways the summer after tenth grade.

Recently Chrissy had been breaking up off and on with her long-time boyfriend Jason Carver because of stupid little fights and you wanted to rub it in her face just how much you loved Eddie. Chrissy was taking a drag and her eyes looked hazy. Maybe once she got high enough, she would lighten up and stop being such a drag. As she passed the joint to him, their fingers brushed together but you pretended not to notice. You had an idea at that moment to lighten the mood. You whispered into Eddie's ear and he nodded, then took off his denim vest of Dio handing it to you and you put it on. The next song was Looks that Kill by Motley Crue, and it was one of your favorites. Chrissy was staring at you with a genuine look of interest on her face. You gave Eddie a lap dance as the song led into the chorus. He had the biggest smile on his face and he occasionally looked over at Chrissy, who was weakly smiling and even blushing a little and giggling. You gave Eddie some kisses on his neck as you gave him the dance and as you turned around on his lap grinding on him, you threw your head back onto his shoulder and his hands caressed your body. When the song was over and a commercial came onto the radio, he gave you another kiss. The lap dance was something you had a lot of fun doing and with her around you were shocked you could be as into it as you were instead of shy. He blew some smoke into your mouth and then handed you the joint as another song came on.

"You doing okay over there, Chrissy?" He asked her curiously after a brief pause.

"Yeah, I'm great. I could go for a bottle of water."

"Sure. I was thinking about getting a beer for myself. Be right back. Anything for you, m'lady?" He asked as he turned back to you.

"Just some water, please. Thanks."

Eddie kissed you on the temple and tapped your ass playfully. You moved closer to Chrissy and after taking another drag of the joint; you passed it to her.

"So what's on your mind?" Chrissy asked interestedly.

"I actually can't believe I did that with you here. It's so unlike me."

"It was great, though. I wish I had your confidence. Look, I'm sorry we aren't friends now, but I would like to give our friendship another chance."

"I would like that if you are serious. I mean, why not? Let's give it another, try I guess."

You both smiled, and you leaned in closer to her. It might've just been the weed talking, but you were feeling a strong attraction toward her. Before either of you could say another word you gave her a small kiss on the lips.

"Do it again," she told you with a raise of her brows and a mischievous look on her face, looking disappointed at how quick the kiss was. If it wasn't for the drugs you probably wouldn't be doing this but it happened and there was no going back. Suddenly she was reminded of the times you had practiced kissing each other and she was craving more from you.

"I thought you were back with Jason though…"

"Yeah well, it's not going so well I think I'm going to break up with him again. I saw him kissing another girl. Also, I found a used bra and a pair of panties in the glove compartment of his car. I found the key even though he had it locked."

Jason could seriously go get fucked you thought to yourself. No one deserved that ever. Not even Chrissy. Especially not Chrissy. You kissed her again and she deepened it, pulling you even closer to her. Only moments later Eddie walked in with his beer along with two bottles of water and a surprised but pleased look on his face. Seemingly, he was quite interested in the scene that was happening right in front of him but he also was a bit perplexed that you two went from arguing to kissing so quickly. It's not that he minded in the slightest. You had talked to him before about if the opportunity arose and you were with another person, particularly another girl you liked, it was okay to kiss.

"Didn't mean to interrupt…"

You and Chrissy broke the kiss, only now realizing he was there again.

"It's fine Eddie. Come sit down. I'm sure Chrissy wants her water."

He walked over to the couch, sat down again and handed Chrissy her water and you the other water.

"I guess we put on a sort of a show for you, huh?" You asked him as you took his hand in yours, fingers now entwined.

He took a big swig from his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I loved it, though. What guy could be upset with his girlfriend for kissing another girl?"

You were so turned on at that moment and you gave him a deep, passionate kiss and then looked back over at Chrissy. With the joint now finished and the 3 of you feeling pretty buzzed, a smirk formed on your lips. Something told you that things were about to get much more interesting. You and Chrissy drank some of your water then set it aside.

"I've never really done something like this before. I'm having so much fun, though," Chrissy admitted.

"Good. I'm glad. Tonight has been something else, hasn't it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around Eddie's shoulders pulling him in even closer to you.

"Now it's my turn to give you a lap dance Y/N," Chrissy told you before taking a chug of her beer for extra confidence.

The song on the radio was Talk Dirty to Me by Poison. You moved off Eddie's lap and sat down next to him. Chrissy stood up and danced on your lap. Eddie watched with fascination as she moved and grinded on you with her short cheerleading skirt on. He practically guzzled his beer while he got into the moment. Her lips grazed yours as she teased you and pulled away. She was giving you such a hot lap dance, and you were having the time of your life. As she danced your eyes stayed focused on hers and when the song was over she gave you another kiss.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," you offered up as a suggestion, wanting to take things further with Chrissy and Eddie.

"Definitely. I thought you'd never ask," Chrissy responded as Eddie got up and you, as well as Chrissy followed him into his room.

You felt excited about all the possibilities and what could happen that night with Eddie and Chrissy. You liked her and it was great. She liked you too.

You went up to Chrissy and wrapped your arms around her from behind and kissed her neck as you heard her soft whimpering. You pushed her hair back from her face and caressed her chest, causing her to gasp. You removed her top and her skirt, then let her undress you down to your panties.

"Now tell me what you want to do with me. I want to know your innermost thoughts and darkest desires," you whispered to her.

"I want to show you how much I like you. I want to pleasure you."

"Of course, but first, let's make Eddie feel good."

She nodded in agreement and you kissed her deeply and passionately with tangled tongues. Once the kiss broke you pulled Eddie close into you and kissed him then watched as they kissed each other. Getting down on your knees on the carpet, you undid his pants and unzipped them. Chrissy got down next to you and watched eagerly with wide eyes as you removed his thick and perfect cock from the inner confines of his boxers. As you grabbed her by the jaw and looked into her eyes you said,

"Right now Chrissy, I want to see how well you can suck cock."

"Eddie, you are so big. I want to feel you down my throat," she told him in a soft voice.

He looked down at both of you with lust in his eyes. He wanted to feel both of your mouths so badly.

"Fuck him with your mouth first. I want for you to start."

She caressed the tip of his cock then his shaft and kissed every inch of his length before she wrapped her mouth around the head taking him into her mouth little by little as she began to caress and cradle his balls and rub the part of his shaft she hadn't yet reached with her mouth. She looked so hot as she sucked, deep and even deeper until she established a steady rhythm on his length. The lewd sucking sounds could be heard as she kept going with eager enthusiasm and you stroked his balls.

"Good girl, now let me get a chance."

She popped off his cock, and you met her lips in a wet and sloppy kiss with tangling tongues. Eddie watched both of you as a huge grin was plastered on his face. You took him into your mouth with pleasure quickly reaching his pubic bone with your nose and began to choke and gag a little on his cock but just at first until you fully adjusted to his length. He rocked his hips back and forth as you moved your mouth loving the feeling of the very back of your throat. Chrissy watched with great interest as you sucked him off like a pro and he pulled your hair back with one hand while his other hand rested on his hip.

"Such a good girl for me putting that mouth to good use. Deep throating me like a porn star," he groaned as he closed his eyes for just a moment.

You looked up at him and fluttered your lashes as you kept on sucking him off with strands of drool and pre-cum running down your mouth and chin. Soon he pushed you off his cock and pulled you up with a firm grip of your hair to meet your lips in a kiss. Your tongues moved with passion as you kissed him back hard.

"I want to watch as you ladies please each other, then I'll join in."

He sat down in a nearby chair and you took that as your signal to guide Chrissy to the bed and push her down on it. Once you removed your clothes except for your underwear, you leaned down close to her and caressed her chest as you asked her.

"What did you promise me about wanting to give me pleasure?"

"I want to explore your body and pleasure you. I haven't done this with another girl before," she admitted a bit excitedly, sounding full of longing and yearning for a chance to get to do this with you. She wanted you to be the first girl she had ever made love to and as far as she was concerned, Jason was now history.

"Well, you can please me then. I would love that."

You laid down on the bed as she straddled your thighs, kissed you from your neck down to your collarbone, chest, and stomach, and then parted your thighs. You opened your legs wide for her as she kissed and licked down towards your inner thighs and removed your panties with her teeth as Eddie watched his cock twitching in his pants his beer now gone.

"This is nice but I want your tongue," you commanded firmly.

Chrissy looked at you like you were the girl of her dreams and you wanted to give her the best night of her life. With Eddie there, you knew things would be even better. The thought of sharing Eddie with anyone wasn't something you thought would happen or with Chrissy of all people, but now that it was you knew you would make the most out of the experience. The weed heightened the feelings you were experiencing, and Chrissy looked and smelled so beautiful.

When her tongue and fingers made contact with your clit, you wondered if she hadn't done this before because she knew exactly how to please you. You looked over at Eddie with a big grin on your face and he looked back at you with lust in his eyes and a wicked smile on his face his cock still as rock hard as ever.

She was fairly good at pleasing you and being a girl she knew what your sensitive spots were, where to put her tongue, and just how to finger you. You were so wet already and her tongue and fingers brought you closer than ever to reaching your first orgasm of the night. You tugged on her hair and told her when to go slower and when to apply more pressure. She read the signals well and she looked deeply into your eyes as you moaned and whimpered for her. She was encouraged only more to please you even better. It was so hot to watch her be submissive like this and give you what you needed and craved. Eddie's eyes were on the two of you never daring to look anywhere else worried about missing even a single second of her pleasing you or the faces you were making. As she tongue-fucked you, you caught glances at Eddie and caressed your breasts wanting to put on a show for him. The lewd moans and noises coming from your mouth were making his cock already wet with precum and he was fully erect again. Porn had nothing on this sight in front of him. Seeing you and Chrissy please each other was the hottest thing he could ever watch.

"That's so fuckin good, baby girl," you mewled as she ate you out like you were a four-course meal and you tugged even harder on her ponytail.

Eddie couldn't take it any longer and came over to the bed fully naked now and harder than ever as Chrissy had you on the verge of your release. He fondled and caressed your breasts and nipples as she added another finger and you writhed underneath her, your fingers clenching the sheets.

"Gonna cum- fuck!" You cried out as you began to cum in her mouth.

She pulled away slowly, licking her lips, then kissed Eddie. You got up and pushed him down onto the bed as you straddled his lap then lowered yourself down onto his erect cock. Chrissy was kneeling next to you and caressing your breasts as you began to ride him. His big cock stretched you out so fully and it felt incredible.

"That's my girl taking her daddy's cock just like that. Fuck! So hot," he groaned.

You could never get enough of him, and her touch made the experience even hotter than it would be if it were just you and him. Her caresses felt wonderful. Eddie grunted underneath you and spanked your ass as he bounced you up and down on his cock. As you rode him and your breasts bounced, your moans grew louder.

"Touch me, Chrissy. Fuck me with your fingers."

She obeyed your command almost instantly and moved her fingers down to your wet clit and rubbed circles over it, wanting to make you feel amazing. You pulled her in deeply for a kiss as you rode him and he spanked your ass.

"Fuck, that's so hot just like that Kiss her," he growled almost animalistically.

He felt so fuckin turned on and hard inside of you as you rode him and he bucked his hips even further into you. He never thought that you and Chrissy kissing and being together would turn him on but here he was and you as well as your former best friend, were giving each other carnal delight and pleasure.

As she groaned against your mouth and you rode your boyfriend's cock, you moaned loudly and coated him with your juices. He bucked his hips up into you a bit forcefully as he pinched your nipples and Chrissy finger-fucked you with three of her fingers, making you feel so fuckin' hot and you felt another orgasm approaching you quickly. As you looked at Eddie and into his brown doe-eyes and back over at Chrissy's blue ones, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

You pulled her in for a kiss and crashed your lips together, feeling so wet from her touch, Eddie's cock, and his fingers working against your nipples. Your cries grew louder and the bed squeaked even louder as you fucked him and kissed her.

"Fuck yes, cum all over my cock just like that," he groaned as he felt your juices coat his shaft.

Chrissy licked her fingers greedily, loving your taste, then met his lips in a kiss so he could taste you from her lips. You got off him and whispered into her ear, "You want to ride his cock, right? Now is the perfect time for that."

She blushed slightly, and you wasted no time reaching into the bedside drawer to grab the box of condoms. You eagerly rolled the condom onto his cock as he looked at you, practically out of breath. His chocolate button eyes were wide with wonder as he realized what you were up to.

"Are you sure about this, baby?"

"Yes. I want to see her ride your cock. It would be the hottest thing."

Once she removed the rest of her clothes, you guided Chrissy onto him slowly, inch by agonizing inch. As she took him fully, you rubbed her clit and guided her along as she began to bounce up and down on his thick length. He was so big and girthy and you watched with fascination and delight as you fingered her and yourself. Her moans became louder as she got into the rhythm of it all. As he fucked up into her wet and tight pussy, you kissed her and Eddie grabbed her hips to help her bounce on his cock to his liking at the perfect tempo and pace.

"Fuck, she is so tight. Fuck!" He gasped as she rode him with passion and elicited loud moans as she fucked him.

Getting your favorite toy out of the bedside table, which was a clear glass dildo with a heart shape at one end, you use it on your clit, moving it over your sensitive bud and watching as they fucked each other hard and rough. The sounds they were making and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin were so erotic and it made you move the toy even faster inside of your pussy.

"Now switch and get on top of her," you commanded, as she seemed to be nearing her release.

Chrissy popped off his cock and switched positions with him. He wasted no time ramming right back into her wet pussy as he wrapped her legs around his waist. His thrusts became more sloppy as he was getting closer to chasing his high and you fingered her clit as he fucked in and out of her and made wet, squelching noises. It was one of the hottest and filthiest things you had ever seen before. You were dripping onto the toy now and nearing overstimulation, but kept going as you watched them fuck. They both watched you and whined with pleasure as you used the toy on yourself. You loved to see her tits bounce as he fucked her, and it was so hot to see them pleasing each other like this.

Hearing Eddie's groans was like music to your ears. Seeing him being pleased like this made you feel so hot.

"Gonna cum- Eddie," she whined as she felt like her orgasm was going to wash over her at any moment now.

"Me too, Chrissy," he told her as he thrust his hips into her.

"Cum on our chests," you groaned as you set the toy aside on the bedside table.

A low growl escaped Eddie's lips, and Chrissy moaned louder now that her orgasm washed over her.

"Yes, Eddie! I'm cumming!" She cried out. After she had ridden out her high, he pulled out and removed the condom, quickly tossing it aside and into the trash.

You watched with delight as you were now down on your knees next to the bed.

Chrissy went over to you and knelt as well, kissing you as Eddie muttered 'oh fuck' and gave his cock several more thrusts before spilling all over your chest and hers. You helped clean each other up and collapsed together on his bed. Once you had all come down from your highs and caught your breath, everyone cuddled next to each other, feeling so satisfied from the experience.

"Well that was pretty wonderful. I'm just so glad we were able to make up," Chrissy mused as she rested in between you and Eddie.

"Just stay with us. Stay the night," you suggested. Eddie nodded in agreement.

"I will. I'm glad I'm here. Tonight was the best."

"You're still dating Jason, though, aren't you?" He asked with big doe-like eyes.

It wasn't like Chrissy to cheat, but being with you and Eddie just felt so right, and Jason did cheat first after all.

"Yeah, about that don't think that was working out too well. It was mainly long distance anyway."

"Breakup with him and go out with us. The more the merrier," you suggested, sounding as serious as you could.

"And more mind-blowing sex? I mean, why not? I enjoy being around both of you."

"Then it's settled. You are ours," he told her as he wrapped one arm around her and the other around you.

You pulled her in for another long and lingering kiss. Tonight was pretty wonderful, and it was all thanks to them. Eddie and Chrissy both understood you so well and the sex was amazing. Most of all, you loved the way you were when you were around them. What started as a friendship and then turned into a crush before it turned into enemies was now a friend with benefits and possibly more- but who knew where things would go from here? You were finally at a good place with Chrissy Cunningham and loved your boyfriend more than ever- you wouldn't want it any other way. That same weekend, Chrissy broke up with Jason and exposed him for the creepy cheater that he was. What started as revenge sex was turning out to be something even more.

Weeks later Vecna was taken down again and with Chrissy on your side, you, Eddie, and your best friends Robin, Nancy, and Steve accompanied by Dustin, Max, and Eleven destroyed FOREVER what once was the upside down.

3 months later

Every weekend at the hideout you and Chrissy were there for Eddie and cheering him on front row and center. He loved to see you both get into the show and dance together. It was quite sexy to him seeing you and Chrissy grind on each other. Other people might've noticed, but all of your attention was on them. That night was very special though, because you and Chrissy now had the coolest and best outfits of anyone else there. She helped you to make Hellfire Club cheerleader uniforms that were white and black with the Hellfire Club lettering and the logo of the demon on them. Eddie got so turned on by seeing the uniforms. Once the show ended, you all went backstage and had a little fun of your own. You stripped off her uniform first but left the short skirt on. She did the same for you and you were devouring each other in front of him 69'ing as he got off by stroking himself and licking his lips. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. When he couldn't take it any longer, he got up and pounded into you, taking you from behind, pulling your hair as Chrissy watched, then switched and fucked her going between your pussy and hers as you made out with her. He spanked you both and his thrusts got even more rough and forceful, but he called you both his pretty princesses. Things were getting pretty serious and not just with Eddie, but with Chrissy, too. That night was filled with so much euphoria, pleasure, and ecstasy. It was pretty hot and heavy with Chrissy for a while and throughout another year of college. After you remained friends but went your separate ways when she found a girl she wanted to date exclusively. From then on you and Eddie only grew closer and even though you found other partners with him, nothing matched the chemistry and mind-blowing sex you had with Chrissy until Steve came around. But that's another story for another time.

soundtrack: Halestorm-Apocalyptic Fate Destroyed-Crave William Control-Romance and Devotion Depeche Mode-Master and servant Motley Crue-Looks that KILL Poison-Talk Dirty to Me In This Moment-Closer (Nine Inch Nails cover) Type O Negative-Can't lose You

taglist: @impmunson @bimbobaggins69 @somethingvicked @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @corneliuswatkins @keeryatmosphere @undead-supernova @ali-r3n @harringtonfan4 @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @bunnsandroses @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @jadeylovesmarvelxo @zestychili @s6raphic @probablyin-bed @corrodedcorpses @dollalicia @lokis-army-77 @ofhawkinsandskippy @keeksandgigz @hcwthewestwaswcn @emmyshortcake @geeky-introvert @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @xxbimbobunnyxx

#stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x reader #chrissy cunningham x fem reader #eddie munson oneshot

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sebluvsmetal · 1 month

Note

Yo! Fellow Ultrakill writer! I've got an idea for you: I hc that when Gabriel has a crush, he'll try to deny it and lowkey be mean to his crush, calling them "blasphemous" or "wretched" as a way to deny his own feelings. How do you think he'd react when his crush just responds with compliments? "Blasphemous being." "Pretty angel."

Hope you have an awesome day/night!

i had fun writing this, thank you for requesting! ^^

FOOLISH MORTAL

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader Oneshot

"Why do you bother following me around?" Gabriel grumbles, posture tense as he walks through the halls tainted by the heavy, metallic scent of blood. "You're interesting," you reply, beaming at the angel. "And quite ravishing." You add, giggling playfully. "You are absolutely ludicrous." He spat, turning his head as you flash him a toothy grin. "That's what you love about me, right?" Gabriel's face heated up under his helmet, his eyes widening in surprise. He quickly regains his composure, throwing another insult your way. "As if I'd love anything about you," Gabriel replied, kicking a pebble out of his path aggressively. "Well, I love everything about you, angel!" You exclaim, as Gabriel lets out a grunt. "Likewise," he whispers under his breath, as you smirk and walk closer to his frame. "What was that?" He clears his throat, shaking his head. "I said you are a foolish mortal." "Nuh-uh. That's not what you said, pretty angel." You narrowed your eyes, stepping in front of him and blocking his path with crossed arms. "Shut up. You can't even see my face. Now move." With a gloved hand, Gabriel pushes you out of his way and continues walking forward, his pace quickening as you attempt to catch up. "Whatever comes out of your lovely lips, then." You tease, winking at him as he visibly cringes. "You are one blasphemous creature." Gabriel mutters as you feel a sharp glare from under his helmet being sent your way. "And you're quite the beautiful angel." You chuckle, walking alongside the angel. "Shut up."

MASTERLIST i'm sorry if it's too short, but i hope you enjoyed! ♥️ *header from THE CREATION OF ADAM - MICHELANGELO

#ultrakill x reader #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill x reader #seb's writing #YAY #gabriel ultrakill x you

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eetherealgoddess · 3 months

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Someone requested a bonten/purge au in one of my comment sections forever ago. Hope you enjoy!♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄWork Nightꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Purge Au

❦You work during the purge❦

Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Work Night

Recently, you learned about the extra money you could make by working on Purge night. Usually, you wouldn’t stay out during the ‘holiday’ but you decided to try it. Now, why wouldn’t you just go out and steal from a bank or something? Because, that’s a death sentence. Other people are out doing the exact same thing. At least you’ll still be safe inside. The job is to clean and mandate the shop, protecting the merchandise while it stays closed. Fortunately, the store you work in has never been broken into, or stolen from, nobody really caring for flowers on a night as chaotic as this, which makes your job easy.

Unlike other stores surrounding you, this one is a small business, and the price to protect it was too good to pass. You’re also not alone, currently sweeping the floor amongst the other two coworkers who are taking care of the other chores on the checklist. Hearing tapping on the window, the three of you look up, your body jolting as you eye the masked strangers

“Do you know them?” One of your coworkers questions. You respond with a shake of your head as your grip on the wooden stick tightens while your body tenses. You all stood quietly, examining the tall figures. Blood stains their suits as well as the weapons that are hanging to their sides. One of them moves closer to the window before he taps the metal bat against the glass and tilts his head, the moonlight exposing the red liquid splattered on the white crying mask.

“The doors are locked right?” The other coworker questions.

“Yeah.” You respond breathlessly. Your heart pounds against your chest as a sense of dread forms when they all move closer. You gasp as the man pulls his arms back and slams the bat against the glass. Shards shatter everywhere before they step inside. You hear your coworkers shriek as you all scramble to run towards the back door.

“Fuck!” You hiss just as you move out of the way right before the person with the baton could crack your skull. You make eye contact through the mask, an eerie smile plastered on the white face. You fall in the process, rolling your body out of the way before the weapon could meet your stomach, smacking a piece of glass when making contact with the floor.

“Pesky little thing.” He all but purrs as you get back on your feet. Your head turns to the person with pink hair holding a katana closing in on one of your coworkers who backed into a corner.

“Please! Don’t kill me!” Her legs shake as she holds her hands up, her eyes wide as tears fall down her face. The mask holds a frown that resembles the person’s grip on the weapon before they pull back and penetrate her chest. You gasp right before dodging the machete that almost slices through your neck, turning your attention to the purple mullet who has on a mask that displays an expression of laughter.

You change your direction, running towards the large hole in which they entered, passing the man using the bat to beat your male coworker’s face into unrecognition. You hop through the hole and run aimlessly, your only thought to get somewhere safe and hide from not only your current tormentors, but anyone else who’s lingering around to be a menace on this celebratory night.

“Please, please, please.” You beg to whatever deity can hear you above, your legs burning as you feel tightness in your stomach from running faster than you’ve ever had to before.

You force yourself to sprint through the pain as you hear footsteps behind, not bothering to turn around. Your adrenaline pumps as you continue down the sidewalk. You begin to struggle to breathe the longer you push yourself, attempting to take in deep breaths and releasing as a way to fight through the pain. You knew you couldn’t stop, especially with the footsteps closing in behind you.

You make a side glance to an alleyway and turn into it, hoping to find a way through by a shortcut. Before you can continue, a hand grabs your bicep and snatches you back.

“Where do ya think yer goin?” The random middle aged man pulls you toward him with a gun against your head. He wrapped an arm around your neck and leans closer to your ear.

“Yer gonna do what I say.” He growls in your ear as his grip tightens while you’re frozen.

“My, my. You’re in quite the predicament, huh?” The man with the machete states, amusement dripping from his tone. The guy holding you turns his attention to the three masked men with confusion on his face.

“Who the hell are you? Go away! This is my kill!” He exclaims with anger.

“Your kill? We found her first.” The guy with the bat argues with a chuckle.

Your eyes widen when you notice that the guy with the katana is missing. Fear engulfing your mind you pull your head forward before slamming it back against the man’s nose causing him to release his grip and cover his wound. Blood drips over his mouth as you move just in time for the weapon to slice through his body, the blade piercing through his stomach now stained with fresh blood. The sound of his gun hitting the ground echoed through the alleyway.

Holy fuck! I just almost got kabobed!

You swiftly snatch the gun from the ground and clumsily aim it at all four men whose attention has turned to you.

“Back the hell up!” You exclaim, scared out of your mind as your hand shakes while holding the gun. Your reaction causes smirks and laughs from the masked figures in front of you.

“Go ahead. Shoot.” Your eyes widened at the male with the katana as your grip tightened on the gun.

Honestly the only time you’ve ever seen a gun was on tv so this is your first time holding the weapon. You had no idea how to use it besides pulling the trigger, but for some reason you hesitate. You breathe heavily as you back up slowly.

“J-just stay away from me! Let me go a-and I won’t have to.”

You stupid bitch, just shoot them! What’s wrong with you?

You look up at the sky, noticing how the night gradually disappears as dawn forms.

Thank God! If I can just hold out till this is over, I’ll be free!

“If you don’t wanna get shot then go away! Now!” You demand, voice trembling as you figure out how to cock the gun.

“Oh? You’re giving us ultimatums now?” The tallest one questions with mirth.

“It’s hilarious that you think you have a say in anything just because you’re holding a gun.” The purple mullet states, crossing his arms with the machete still in his hand.

The sound of their phones going off causes them to grab the devices from their pockets and eye the notification.

“Seems to be your lucky day.”

“Boss needs us guys, let's go.”

“See ya next time!”

They all walk away, leaving you holding the gun as you watch them walk off. You release a large breath as your hand is placed on your chest to hopefully ease the pounding of your heart. Gun still in hand you rush off to your home.

“I-I survived!” You laugh out when you make it inside, locking the door behind you.

“I need to smoke some tree on god.” You moan out before turning on the news.

You listen to the news anchor announcing the end of the purge. You set the gun on the table and walk to your bedroom. After you gather your pajamas you take a quick shower, wiping residue grime and blood, thinking back on your dead coworkers with a shiver.

A few months since the traumatic event passes and your life has only gotten weirder since then. First and foremost, you decided that you wanted to get out more considering you have been a loner for most of your life and don’t really have any major accomplishments since graduating from highschool. Considering the purge was a more recent holiday, you knew that your death could approach even sooner than before.

Anytime you had downloaded dating apps, you never took it seriously enough to make friends or partners so you went out of your comfort zone and met quite a few people this time. Unfortunately, it seems as though after about a week or so they would ghost you for no particular reason that was stated. No matter how much you thought you had bonded with someone, they disappeared as if they never existed in the first place.

You didn’t take it personally at first but after a few times you wondered if there was something wrong with you. It wasn’t until there was someone you talked to for longer than the deadline in which the others had disappeared. You couldn’t believe you caught the attention of someone so attractive but you accepted the circumstances regardless.

More time passes as you two get to know each other and bond quickly, becoming closer than you ever had with someone in a long time. So close that you two decide to spend the purge together at your apartment. He offered his place but you wanted to stay in the vicinity of your own home just in case.

You had just stepped out of the shower while he was in the living room. After drying yourself and lotioning up you put on a different outfit. Just as you step out of the bathroom, you notice a presence with a familiar suit sitting on your bed with his leg crossed. Icy blue orbs pierce your own as your eyes widen.

“R-Ran!” You yell in fear as you run out of the room. “Someone broke in!” You run to the kitchen to grab the gun, only to be pulled back by your arm. You eye the unknown man who looks almost identical to the male you had been seeing though you could recognize that purple mullet from anywhere.

“God, why’d you have to drag this so long?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He wanted her all to himself.” A male with golden eyes says from the couch.

“Ah, yeah. You’ve caught me.” The man with mid length blonde and black hair chuckles, walking towards you.

“He even grew his hair out. Ridiculous.” The pink haired man spits as he walks into the room.

“W-What the fuck is going on?” You yell, eyeing Ran with confusion and anger.

“You know, we could’ve just snatched her that night. Why’d we have to wait a whole year?”

“Cuz it’s fun, Kazu. Didn’t you enjoy murdering all of those people she talked to.”

“Whatever. Let’s just hurry up so we can explain it to Mikey so he doesn’t kill her.”

“What the hell are all of you talking ab-!” Before you could finish you were interrupted by an impact on your head, succumbing to the darkness.

You groan as you wake up with a throbbing headache, aiming to rub your head only for your arms to not move. When your vision is back you notice that your arms are tied behind the chair you’re forced to sit on.

“What is it about you that caught those idiots' attention?” You look ahead to see a man with platinum hair boring into you with dark orbs. Your breath hitches as you become wary of your surroundings. His aura doesn’t help.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on! Please, let me go!”

“Did I say you could speak?” You immediately shut your mouth as you eye him with discomfort.

“You’ve distracted my men. Why?”

You didn’t know whether to answer or not though it’s not like you have a response anyway. Considering the memories that recollected you knew that Ran had been one of the masked strangers from that night. You had no idea why he did what he did or how you caught their attention to the point where you’re not dead yet. You don’t want to find out, all you want is to go home.

“I guess we’ll have to find out.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. You have no idea what he means by that. As if cued, the said group of males walk in, Ran with his original short haired purple style that you remembered from a year ago.

“You found her, you deal with her.” The short man states with a stoic expression before he stands from his seat and walks out of the room.

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solaneceae · 4 months

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how to (not) deal with asymmetry

a tazercraft oneshot. Years ago, an experiment gone wrong melded two souls together. One has learned to grow alone, the other still has some catching up to do. read on ao3

“Mikey,” he gasps, choking on the scent of smoke and static. “Mikey, cadê vo—” the rest of his words die, in a hacking cough that makes him taste metal at the back of his throat.

It hurts. God, everything hurts, and his brain feels like it’s splitting into dozens and dozens of little bloody shreds. He’s pretty sure he’s bleeding too — glass shards strewn about all over the cold tile floor of the lab, red stains — but the physical pain is nothing compared to the feeling of his deepest Self splintering like sandstone during an earthquake. He grits his teeth, hard enough to crack them — the alarms blare, loud and red and shrill, stabbing through his ears and directly into his unravelling brain.

Dói. Dói. Ajuda. Cadê o Mike? “Não,” he chokes out, despair swelling up disgustingly within him as he spots his best friend, his partner in crime, laying motionless against the gutted remains of their latest machine. “Não não não,” his arms pull him forward through glass and smeared blood (his? Mike’s?), to him, to reach him. Every fiber of his being is burning, thoughts getting fuzzy and muddled, unravelling at the seams. All that’s left is help, Mike, Mike, no, no. “Moço,” Pac sobs as cold fingers press against the younger man’s neck, sinks into despair when he feels nothing. “Não— por favor, ele não. Ele não…”

This was supposed to help. Mike— he said the machine could help with his leg, to control the prosthetic better. It was supposed to be his greatest achievement yet. But it was killing them instead, a parasitic chain reaction eating at their souls as the Labs burned down around them.

Mike just wanted to help. Help him. And now his friend is— “Mikey,” Pac gasps, because Mike’s jugular has granted a pulse — weak, slow and uneven, but a pulse. Still alive. Pushing through the pain, the oldest member of Tazercraft paws at his friend’s chest desperately, grabs his red-stained lab coat to pull his unconscious body away from the smoking machine, away from the flames. “Tâ tudo bem moço,” he wheezes out, fuck, it hurts. “Tâ tudo bem.”

He hears a high-pitched beep — then a soft shhhhh, and then water starts raining down on them. The fire system. “Caralho,” Oh, so now it kicks in. Now they’ll just die of having their souls shredded instead of burning alive, how delightful. Pac could laugh, if only there was anything funny about it all. A particularly vicious wave of white-hot pain washes over him, and Pac whimpers, pulling Mike tight against him. He’s burning, but Mike is cold, so cold. His face is lax, getting paler by the second, blood steadily trickly out of his nose — and from the sticky feeling and metal tang inside his mouth, Pac doubts he’s looking much better. “Disculpe, Mikey,” he utters as the world fades into grey sludge, static filling his ears and seeping into his vision. He’s fading, and fast. “Disculpe.”

What’s he apologising for the most? Not being able to save them, uselessly lying on the floor? Not being smart enough to figure his leg out?

Being stupid enough to lose it in the first place, for trusting a known murderer over his oldest friend? “Acorde,” he pleads, pressing Mike’s forehead against his. Cold. “Acorde, por favor— olhe pra mim, moço…” He can’t die like this. Can’t leave like this, without Mike knowing how sorry he is, how much he loves him, his best friend, his partner, his—

his other half

Mike’s eyes

his other half

Mike’s eyes are green

open

his other half

green

his world is green

grass and trees and toxic waste

pulling him in

his world is blue

Mike?

blue lips

Pac’s face, pale and slack, tears running down

blue lips, blue hoodie

Pac?

blue pie-shaped eyes among the golden sclera

pulling him in

Pequi?

Mikey?

As the outside world melts away, two mangled souls reach out and find each other. Spin, spin, spin like two neutron stars trapped in an infernal cosmic dance.

Mike?

Pac?

você?

eu?

Nós

They brush against one another. Barely a touch, barely anything, but the sheer force of the pull-longing-need makes them cry out in something like pain.

Pac!

Mike!

He-they? Don’t understand. But maybe they do. Pac feels Mike, Mike feels Pac, close, yet not close enough. They are dying, they will die right there, if they don’t—

Do what? What? What is this?

moço

ajuda

sei, sei

tem medo, tem medo—

não, não

fique, fique

não me abandona agora

They collide. And it’s agony, and it’s ecstasy, and they might be screaming, or maybe they’re both already dead and this is just their last shred of consciousness stretching out into delirium. It’s a cacophony of voices, their voice (voices?) so loud, so loud, and it’s memories of their childhood and their many crimes and heists, of rage and laughter and nights spent huddled together in a thin mattress meant for one. Then under cold rain. Then surrounded by cold metal bars, sharp teeth and claws prowling just outside, distrust, regret, pain and blood and loss, Jv, Guaxi… Of vast expanses of grass under sunlight, freedom, catharsis and revenge and love, and love, and love, searing and all-encompassing and painful.

Pac and Mike scream as their shredded souls cauterize — pieces of themselves sealing the cracks and hollows in each other. It hurts, maybe worse than soul damage does even, but they want it to hurt. Because it means they’re still alive. It hurts, and it’s loud, too much too much too much—

Their entire Selves burn, together. Until it gets so overwhelming that their brains decides that alright, that’s enough, and unplug everything.

Things get muddy from that point on — their memories from that time would stay but a confusing blur in the future. But they do know that they wake sometime later, soaked and cold and not quite right. Mike? Pac? Yes. They blink, and everything still hurts, cuts all over him— them? “Pac,” he calls out, voice shot and throat like sandpaper, but… isn’t that him? Why is he… they…

Bleary eyes open. He sees blue. Blinks, and everything changes. He feels heavy, too heavy. Moço? I’m… here. No. Pac, that you? No, I’m… we…

A hand pushes against the tile, a body grunts and winces. Everything is wet, stupid sprinklers. He-They see Pac, curled up on the floor, cuts all over his arms. Pac sees, himself. That. That’s not right? They blink, and it’s like being in two places at once, two pairs of mismatched eyes meeting, a feedback loop. One of Pac’s eyes is green, one of Mike’s is blue. “Mikey,” Mike’s mouth lets out a whimper, and the voice, the accent… “Pequi?” Pac’s mouth responds in kind, scratchy, barely a mouse’s squeak.

A blink. The feeling of drifting, of losing time. And then Pac feels a little more like himself, Mike’s hands are cupping his face, and he leans into the touch. His eyes are green, green, green. What did we do? he hears his partner’s voice, even though his mouth isn’t moving at all. Meu deus, what did I…

Hurts, Pac’s voice rings through whatever space is forming between both their minds, chaotic and loud and God heir heads hurt so bad. Scared. My leg…

Mike’s eyes fall onto the prosthetic, bent out of shape and barley holding on to Pac’s stump. Colorful swears burst across Pac’s counciousness, and he presses his palms against his ears in an attempt to muffle it all out. It doesn’t. Stop! Stop! Can’t, too loud, can’t—

He feels something reach out and pull him in — something familiar, something good. He reaches back, feels himself drifting again. Gasps as he (Pac, he’s Pac now, but also never stopped being him?) finds himself staring down at his own body once more, and he almost falls over because leg, leg, he has a leg there, but it’s not his? “Imma be sick,” he hiccups, dizzy and nauseous all of a sudden. Pac (no, Pac is— him. That’s Mike, those eyes are green, it looks so weird) grunts something undecipherable from the floor he now lays on, piloting Pac’s body like an ill-fitting suit. “I hit my head on the machine,” Mike-in-Pac, and his words are slurred, like he’s struggling to use that foreign mouth, that unfamiliar tongue. “Concussion.” Mike picks himself off the floor, slowly, hissing as every move pulls at the cuts on his arms. “Shit—” he almost slips on stray glass, struggles to find balance. “Our leg’s busted. Fuck.”

Pac-in-Mike stares, unable to muster coherent thoughts. His skull is throbbing, and he has two fleshy legs. Mike’s body doesn’t respond like his does, wider, shorter, glasses lost somewhere around the wreckage of their failed experiment. And goddamn, he knew Mike’s eyesight was awful, but fuck. He blinks, drifts, and trades fuzzy mind and vision for a tangible pain in his arms and a phantom one in his missing leg. He hears Mike (Mike-in-Mike, he’s back again) vomit near him, and decides that they need to get out.

He’s not sure how they make it all the way to the medbay — time feels wonky, sluggish one second and then too fast the next, and they almost fall several times because they keep finding themselves piloting the other’s body, or both at the same time somehow. One blink, and it’s Mike hopping his way down the corridor, a hand on the wall and his own body slumped against his-Pac’s side. Another blink, and the frontier between them gets fuzzy, individual thoughts merging together into grey mush as they, struggle to coordinate two sets of arms and legs as a single unit.

They lose time, too — now they’re clumsily wiping off blood, pouring disinfectant on cuts that might or might not be his-theirs, long fingers sewing up a cut at the back of a head. Pink hair, that’s— that’s Mike’s. Don’t move. I’m not. Stop. I’m sorry.

White gauze is haphazardly wrapped around injuries because you’re so bad at first aid. Shut up. Do it better. I am. We are. Then the madbay is plunged into darkness and they’re both curled around one another, a knee digging into a gut, a face pressed against a clavicle. Not sure which is whose. Stay. Yes. I’m here. We’re here.

Touch is so weird — only half-tethered to their own bodies, consciousness in near perfect osmosis, every touch felt twice over. One pulls the other closer, neither can tell which one, and their shared mindscape lights up with warmth and hello, hi, it’s me, it’s you, me, you, us. And it’s still raw, still painful, still loud. But darkness beckons them anyway, exhaustion and hurt deeping deep in their bones. They don’t know whose eyes close first, and it doesn’t matter. Their thoughts scatter like dust in the wind, heavy, sticky sleep pulling them down, down, down.

Pac and Mike do not die that day. TazerCraft sleeps, now more than the sum of its parts, two half-souls melting together in a mess of shared memories and half-formed dreams. After a while, the sun rises and shines through the blinds of the medbay.

They do not wake. It crosses the sky and sets, and still, they do not wake. It will take yet another day before one of them even stirs, lips chapped and dry from dehydration, eyelids cracking open with great struggle to reveal shades of blue and green. And they are raw, tender in a way they do not understand and filled with echoes of thoughts that won’t shut up, stop, not yet settled, not yet stable.

Pac and Mike, Mike and Pac. Together.

***

Pac never did well with change. (Well, neither of them really, but Pac was worse about it.) Having to move out of a Lab to escape the authorities was never a good time ; Mike liked his tea to be made a certain way, liked his things organised a certain way ; Pac feared the unknown that came with change, almost as much as he revelled in the chaos it brought. They were a walking contradiction, masters of their craft, creation optimisation addicts that somehow connected to the entity of Chaos and disorder instead of the logical choice that was Knowledge.

They had experienced plenty of change. But they, themselves, hadn’t changed that much since their first meeting. Grown, come into themselves yes — but they had woven their souls and fates together, and stayed as they were because they were content that way.

The island has changed that, too. Things are… different. Pac is different. Because Pac has changed, despite himself, while Mike was gone. He doesn’t know how to feel about it just yet. He wonders if Mike minds that he did. It’s a little harder to know what his other is thinking these days, walls that they had no need for before shielding little pieces of themselves. Secrets to keep, even from each other. Pac has accepted that, he’s the one with the most out of the two of them — a promise to keep, for someone else, a promise of danger and grave consequences if aired out. But he can still feel some bitterness on Mike’s end.

Pac has grown. He struggled, broke, gave in to sickly-sweet mind-honey and chemical bliss. He fell in love, slowly. He confronted his own personal demon in the person of Cell, relapsed and crazed, and he killed him. Only to be hunted and killed all over again on that wretched island. And all of this, he did alone.

Oh, he had his friends, and he had Fit of course. But Mike hadn’t been there, his presence at the back of his mind imperceptible as he slumbered away in the Ordo’s medbay for all those months. And despite himself, Pac had gotten… used, to that. To Mike not being there.

Pac has changed. Mike has not, frozen in time by kelp-induced sleep. But that’s okay.

Pequi, Pequi. Moço. You’re so in love it makes you look stupid.

Pac huffs through his nose at Mike’s interruption, spinning the block he was about to place in his palm. Your face is stupid, he sends back, and feels Mike laugh at the back of his brain — a hum-buzz, familiar and more welcome than he’d like to admit. He smiles as their wavelengths sync up oh-so perfectly, letting himself drift through their shared mindscape until he fades into their greater Self, one, together. TazerCraft, one soul, one mind, all-encompassing love.

Then they separate again, physical sensations trickling back in slowly. Pac blinks, disoriented for a second, before the weight on his nose and lower center of gravity makes him whine in protest. “Mikey! Warn me before you do that!”

Now my face is your face, his other half sing-songs through their bond, stretching Pac’s body like a cat in a sunbeam. Oooh, strong. Been working out, moço? Need to impress someone? Maybe the one you’re building this thing for?

“Choke on a sandpaper dick, Mike.”

On it.

Pac mumbles something, feeling his (Mike’s) face heat up. He wishes he could hide his face in his own hoodie, because Mike’s shirt just won’t cut it. Come on, it’s been too long, his other half croons from all the way over at the Labs, cracking his (Pac’s) neck with a smirk that would look odd to an outsider, on that face. Pac huffs, pushes green-fading-into-pink hair out of his eyes to look around the place he has found himself in. “...Why were you in some random cave?”

Needed the quiet. And more gold.

“Mmh.” Mike’s body feels a little strange to move around with, after so much time — like a suit he hasn’t worn in a while. Tight in a few places, not sitting quite right in others. So much happened while Mike was in his coma, and Pac knows he’s done some growing as a person — maybe that’s why.

“Don’t worry too much,” Mike hums as he keeps placing blocks around the island Pac picked for his little love nest (blergh. Sure he’s happy for him, but he could do without Pac’s constant mental swooning over motherfucking FitMC from 2B2T.), picking up on his worries. “You are still Tazer. I am still Craft.”

Feels all rusty.

“It will get better. Let’s stay like this for a bit, yes? I can finish the base layers for you.”

Thanks.

“Would be faster with a machine though.”

“You’d take twice the time just to build the machine,” Pac rolls Mike’s eyes, digging his way out of the cave and pocketing coal and gold on the way. Mike’s pickaxe is shit. “Sometimes it’s just faster a la mano, you know?”

Pfff. Spoilsport.

“Nerd.”

Bitch.

Pac laughs, light and airy as he breaks to the surface, sunlight hitting in face and momentarily blinding him. Mike hums and pulls him in for a meld, and Pac lets him because he’s missed this.

There’s still a slight stutter to it — like lag but not quite, their shared mindscape rough from disuse after months of radio silence. But they both get into the flow despite it, curling around one another and letting the boundaries between what is Pac and what is Mike blur into almost nothing. Hi, hi, longing and joy and gentle hovering over the new scars in Pac’s psyche as well as on his body. moço, moço. you’re here, i’m here, hello. One of them might be crying, out there or maybe both are ; but it’s most likely Pac. The feeling of arms hugging them tightly, and is it self-soothing if you’re sharing your body with another person while you do it? Hello, you, me, I love me, love you, love us. Hello. Can we join? Yes.

The warp of teleport, barely phasing their osmosis. Two halves, one stumbling to the other half-laughing-half mumbling in mangled Portuguese, embracing, a head nestling in the crook of a neck. One of them gets a kiss on the forehead, or maybe they both do somehow.

Touch gets weird when they’re like this — only half-tethered to their own physical vessels, consciousnesses in near perfect osmosis. Every touch is felt twice over, a feedback loop. They spin, laugh at something one of them thought, and their shared mindscape lights up with warmth and hello, hi, it’s me, it’s you, me, you, us. “You’re ridiculous,” Mike’s body says, blue and green swirling in half-lidded, vacant eyes. “I missed you. Missed us. Yes.”

“A half missed this more. The other was in a coma, it didn’t miss like this one did,” Pac’s body purrs, sitting and basking in sunlight, head tilted to the side. Blue and green staring at the sky without really seeing it. “No. You’re supposed to say ‘me too’, asshole. I did. You did.” Thoughts spin around endlessly, echoing between query and response in a pattern that only they can decipher. Pequi, Pequi. Mikey. No, I promise. Always? Yes. He won’t, it’s okay. No, I didn’t forget. Can we? Okay.

Then Pac traps Mike in an aggressive noogie, snapping them back into themselves as the shorter man hisses out insults and bats at the other’s face. The build does not progress a lot that day.

#qsmp #fanfic #tazercraft #pactw #mikethelink #pac e mike #wow wow #i am so normal about them #NNNNGH mindmeld mindmeld #platonic soulmates aaaah #so precious to me

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yancherrysoda · 7 months

Text

The Faux Divine of Freedom

Took me long enough 🧍‍♂️

I had a lot of fun writing this! I will for sure cringe at this in like a month or two, but whatever. It was originally going to be 2.500 words; I don’t know how it turned out to be more than twice as long. The 2-month hiatus did me good lol

There’s a scene where Venti admires your lips; I really tried my best to describe them in a way that doesn’t go too much into detail since the reader is you, and your skin color might not be the same as mine, so if it sounds a little bit weird, it’s because of that.

This is part 2 of my yandere Venti oneshot series

Warnings: none

Word count: 6.273

Venti's feet made no sound on the stairs, his slender fingers gripping onto the banister with every step. His gaze was fixed ahead as he descended, unseeing but knowing where each stair ended and began. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he slowly approached your bedroom door and raised one hand to knock lightly against it three times. When you did not answer, he slowly turned the doorknob and peeked inside, only to be greeted with an empty room. This was not a strange occurrence; when you first arrived here, you would spend the majority of your time locked in your bedroom, unwilling to talk or spend any time with him at all. However, lately, you opted to leave the house, preferring instead to spend time outside—and that is where he found you.

Stepping out of the house, his eyes immediately focused on your figure, curled up on a rock at the edge of the shore. Your legs were pressed tightly to your chest as your arms wrapped around them in a comforting hug. He cautiously approached you, taking in your presence before settling down not too far from you.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soothing, barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

You turned your head to look at him; your eyes narrowed and lips pressed tightly together as your body shook ever so slightly.

He tried scurrying closer to you, but you moved away sharply.

“Don’t touch me.”

Ignoring your warning, he tried once again to close the gap between the two of you, which made you grab him by the collar of his shirt as you reached into the pocket of your shorts, your hand wrapping around the cool metal handle of a violin peg reamer. With a swift motion, you withdrew it and pressed its tip against his neck. While it was not sharp, he was sure that with enough strength, you could break his skin if you were to put enough force behind it.

“I said don’t touch me,” you hissed, “Or I’ll drive this through your throat.”

“When did you get—” You tightened your grip around his collar, cutting off his words as you pressed the tool below his jawline, right where his head connected to the neck. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You retreated the reamer back into your pocket and released him. His hands came up to rub at the tender spot where you had held him.

He didn’t try to move closer again.

The both of you sat there in silence, watching the waves come in and crash against some of the rocks before it was eventually broken by your rumbling stomach. You wrapped your arms around it, hoping to keep it still.

Venti’s eyes stayed fixed ahead. “I know what you’re trying to achieve by going on a hunger strike. Do you think that’s going to set you free?” He sighed. “Not only is it childish and very ineffective as a form of protest, but you could also potentially harm yourself, and I wouldn’t want that for you.” He eyed the peg reamer that you clutched tightly beside you. “You can also try and stab me as many times as you want; it’s not going to change anything.”

An awkward silence settled in between you both yet again. Venti felt the tension in the air, wishing he could break it but not knowing what to say or do. He thought about all the things he had wanted to discuss with you, and yet now he knew better than to breach those topics, as you were clearly not in the mood to talk to him.

“How long have I been here?” You asked after a while.

He shrugged. “A month, give or take.”

“My family, have they tried looking for me?”

Venti jolted, his face going pale as if he had stepped straight into a freezer. He lowered his head, fidgeting with his fingers. “I haven’t talked to them.”

You scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. What would you have told them anyway? That I ran away? They wouldn’t have believed you.” You paused for a moment, looking out into the sea. “And when I die, you can just disappear for a couple more centuries. By the time you decide to come back, nobody we knew will be there to tell you anything.” You looked back at him, your expression unreadable. “Sounds like the perfect plan, doesn’t it?” You lifted your legs from the ground, pressing them against your chest once again as you rested your chin on your knees. “I wish I never met you.”

His breath hitched. “Please don’t say that.” He leaned towards you, his hands pressing against the bumpy surface of the rock. “Haven’t you felt something for me?”

Your lip curled into a sneer. “Whether I felt something for you or not doesn’t matter anymore; thanks to this brilliant idea of yours, all of that is gone now.”

He knew this would not be easy, of course he did. You would not expect someone who had been taken away from their home and forced to be exiled until the end of their days to be happy about it, yet he could not help but feel how his heart broke at your words. Seeing you switch from showering him with love and affection straight to hostility tore him apart in ways he had not expected. Despite his best efforts these past few weeks, he could not seem to bridge the huge gap that had formed between the two of you.

But that was fine; he could rebuild the previous life he had with you. Sure, it would take time, but he was willing to wait; he knew how to do that very well.

He stood up, offering you a hand. “Care to join me inside?”

The two of you stepped through the door, his cape billowing out behind him like a sail in the wind. He removed it slowly, then hung it on the coat rack you had just at the entranceway. He carefully placed his hat next to it, then straightened it with a gentle touch of his fingers before turning to stand in front of you.

“I told you that you may get into my room any time you want, but not to take things out of it that could potentially be used to commit murder.” He extended his hand in your direction, his palm facing up. “The peg reamer, hand it to me.”

You took a couple of steps back, hiding the tool behind your back. “Huh?”

“I can’t risk you lashing out at me like during that kitchen knife incident the other day. I really don’t want to deal with that again.” He placed his free hand on his hip. “You might also hurt yourself with it.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You’ve been behaving like one lately, so hand it to me.” He moved his fingers slightly, indicating that you should hand over the reamer.

You slowly pulled it out from behind your back and placed it on his hand.

“Good, we’re making progress.”

You then stepped into the kitchen, a cozy space with white walls adorned with wooden wainscotting on the lower half—just like in every other part of the house. You took a seat at the old wooden table with your head propped on your hand, clearly not in the best of moods, as you carefully watched Venti walk towards the sink to wash his hands.

He hummed as he moved around the room—here plucking an onion from its little basket, there taking out apples from their box. Opening the fridge, he took out a piece of meat and some butter before searching through drawers filled with spoons and forks until he found a knife. Then, he took one of the hanging pans and placed it on the stove before adding the butter and some spices like pepper, garlic, and rosemary. While he waited for the butter to melt, he grabbed the knife and started cutting the apples.

“We’ve known each other for over two years now and you still haven’t told me what your favorite dish is,” he said, trying to make small talk as he chopped the apples. He peeked at you over his shoulder, then continued, “Maybe if you did, I could have cooked it for you.”

“I don’t have a favorite dish.”

Once the butter melted, he added the meat and waited for it to cook before finally adding in the sliced apples.

The aroma quickly filled the room, making your stomach rumble once again.

He stirred the pan. “Is that so? Then I guess I’ll have to make something that you would consider your favorite.”

You shifted your position, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned back against the chair. “But I did like the Buoyant Breeze at that restaurant we went to before,” you added.

Venti smiled at your response. “You have good taste.” He took a plate, scooped some of the food onto it, then walked over to you.

“Aren’t you going to eat as well?”

“I don’t need to, not as much as a human. I do get hungry, but hunger won’t kill me; it will only make my stomach hurt and cause some fatigue, which are symptoms I don’t like to deal with, and I doubt you do either so,” he set the dish down before taking a seat across from you, “I would advise you to stop this nonsense and eat when you have to,” he said, his voice coming out louder than he had intended.

You looked down at the plate and immediately recognized the dish as Northern Apple Stew.

Venti propped his chin on the back of his hands as his elbows rested on the surface of the table. He tilted his head to the side. “By the way, the dish you mentioned; Buoyant Breeze, did you know it’s Barbatos’?”

You stopped mid-bite. “That’s your—”

“Yep. I thought it would have been nice to cook something of my own and share it with other people. It took me many years to find the perfect ingredients.”

“It’s just carrots, potatoes, and onions,” you remarked before taking the first bite.

“Ah, but the secret lies in the combination of all three. Each has its own unique taste that complements the others.” He leaned in closer to you, his emerald eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he spoke, “It’s a dish that represents my identity as Barbatos.”

You took a bite of the apple, tapping the fork thoughtfully against the edge of your plate. “I guess that’s why it’s so simple.”

He pretended to be deeply offended, but the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against his chair. “How dare you say that? Do you not appreciate the taste of high-class cuisine when it’s presented before you?”

His fake indignation made you chuckle. “I do, I absolutely do. It’s incredibly delicious,” you said, “When it’s prepared by experienced chefs instead of you.”

“Oh ho! Alright, I get it,” he chuckled, running his hand through his dark hair. “How about you let me try my luck and cook it for you next time? You actually never tried eating it from the very Anemo Archon himself.”

"Sure,” you replied. It was the kind of 'sure' that meant 'yeah, right'. Your voice had a tinge of sarcasm to it, and he knew from your expression that you were not convinced.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll cook it for you tomorrow night,” he declared confidently.

The evening continued with Venti taking on a storyteller’s demeanor, regaling you with stories of his past exploits and sharing his deep-rooted philosophy on life.

At some point, he delved into the history of wine—how could he not—and how it came to be in Mondstadt. He described a certain mischievous wind spirit that took the form of a fox and fermented some apples under a negligent guard's care. When the guard awoke, he bit into one of those apples and, finding that he enjoyed the flavor, squeezed the sack that contained the apples to create wine.

His tales flowed like the finest wines, and as you finished your meal, he cleared the table and placed the dishes in the sink.

You got to your feet and headed to your room, with him walking right beside you like a persistent thorn in your side. You were about to open the door when you paused, hand still on the doorknob. “Why are you following me?”

“I don’t have anything to do.”

“Then why don’t you go find something?” As you stepped through the doorway, Venti placed his foot against the door, preventing it from being closed.

“I want to talk to you, like how we always did.”

“I don’t, so get out of my room.” You attempted to push him back and out of the room, but he caught both of your hands in his, holding them still. He gently shoved you inside, then kicked the door shut.

“It’s been a month, [Name], this can’t keep going on.”

You pulled yourself free from his grasp, turning to face him with an obviously fake smile. “You’re right, this can’t keep going on, so let me out.”

A deep, exasperated sigh escaped his lips. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” You crossed your arms, the fake smile growing wider as he stepped closer.

“[Name], come on now; if there’s anything you’d want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Didn’t I already tell you what I wanted?”

“That has nothing to do with setting you free.”

He carefully watched your movements as you wandered around your room; it remained the same as when you arrived here, only having a couple of extra things here and there like books, scented candles, and other trinkets. There were also three frames hanging on one of the walls, perfectly aligned one after another. Originally, Venti had placed photos of the two of you from your previous adventures in them, but due to the rage you felt towards him for what he had done, you took them out of the frames and tore them into little pieces.

“Is there any way you could help me communicate with my family? To let them know that I’m alive and well?”

Venti exhaled heavily, reaching out to rub the back of his neck. “That’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“The least you could do is grant me this request,” you said. “Or do I have to pray to you?”

He chuckled. “That would be nice.”

“Fuck off.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your temper sure has gotten worse over your stay here.” He stared out the window, turning the thought over in his mind. If he agreed to let you contact your parents, he would have to talk to them first, which would be a pretty awkward experience. Of course, he could not allow you to have direct contact with them, so it would have to be done through notes. “I guess I could help you, but only if you agree to do something.” After all, you would not pass on such an opportunity, right? He might as well get something from you in return.

“Agree to do something? Do you think you’re in the right to make any demands of me?”

Venti smiled in amusement, his lips curling up into a grin. “I just want you to let me hug you; it’s a small price to pay for what you’re asking me for.”

You turned your head away from him. “This is something I would call a pain in the ass, and not what I asked for.” You looked back at him. “Fine.”

He giggled, taking a step towards you. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention, though. You see, I’m a little bit tired, so if you could allow me to hold you as you…” he leaned in slowly, “Sit on my lap, that would make me very happy.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Your request is rather complicated, as I’ll have to think of something to tell your family about your whereabouts.” He placed a hand over his heart as he said in a pitiful tone of voice, “Not to mention the humiliation I’ll have to go through if I did that.”

“Aren’t there any other options?”

“Oh, there sure are, but I doubt you’ll say yes.”

You uttered a string of curses under your breath. “Whatever.” You raised an eyebrow at him, “What are you tired of anyway? Doing nothing all day just like how you do nothing as the patron God of Mondstadt?”

It was a fact that he had not been very active in terms of leadership in his nation over the past centuries, but he had never given up on it. If the day ever came when his people would need him—no matter what shape or form the situation may take—he will always be there to step in.

“What’s with that sassy attitude?”

“What’s with that sassy attitude?” You mimicked his words in a mocking tone. “Oh, I’m very sorry! I didn’t know I had to exhibit a good attitude towards my kidnapper!” You grabbed him by the shoulders and, with an effortless motion, pushed him onto a nearby chair, planting yourself on his lap. You placed a hand over his chest, pushing him further into it. “Tell me, oh great God of Freedom—if I dare call you so myself—doth this please you?”

Your actions caught him off guard, and he almost missed his grip on the chair. He looked slightly dazed by your boldness but quickly recovered.

“Huh? Oh, your switch in behavior, or you sitting on my lap?” He let out a hearty chuckle, his shoulders bouncing slightly. He rested his hands on your hips to help balance you. “Either way, yes, very much so.”

Your jaw was visibly clenched, and your throat bobbed as you gulped. It looked as if you were about to jump at his throat right then and there. Your hand got ahold of the back of the chair as you leaned in, “We’re not lovers; we’re not friends either, not anymore, so don’t talk to me as if our relationship was still the same.”

Venti's gaze met yours with seriousness, his brows drawn together. “I get it.”

Carefully, you slipped further away from him until you were nearly perched on his lap.

“I can’t hug you when you’re that far away.”

“Sucks.”

Venti dropped his legs so suddenly and sharply that you almost slipped off him, which made you quickly react and reach out to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

He gave you a light kiss on your ear before whispering, “That’s more like it.”

You quickly pulled yourself away from him. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

He stuck out his tongue, his eyes narrowing cheekily.

You dug your fingers into his shoulders.

“Ow ow ow ow! Alright, I’m very sorry!” He moved one of his hands behind his back, his fingers subtly crossed. “I won’t do anything like that again, I promise.”

Apologies exchanged, Venti’s hands shook ever so slightly as he wrapped them around your frame. The second he nested his head on your chest, it felt like his body had found its home. Nothing around him mattered; his worries and cares all seemed to dissolve away the moment he touched you. He closed his eyes and sighed, listening to your heartbeat. It thumped strong and steady, with a rhythm that could beat on forever—or so he wished.

“I missed holding you like this,” he uttered.

This was the only time you let him even come an inch closer to you; normally you would avoid or scowl at him. He understood that his actions disgusted you, yet he won’t lie and say that the past month has not been excruciating. The change in your behavior reminded him of a human he considered his friend long ago—a red-headed warrior that came to live in Old Mondstadt under Decarabian's dictatorial rule. When Decarabian was defeated and Venti ascended to godhood under the name of Barbatos, for reasons he has yet to comprehend, the warrior then turned his back on Venti.

He nuzzled closer to you. “I know you don’t understand why I did this to you, and I have a feeling that you never will, but let me at least explain myself.” He drew a breath, releasing it slowly. “The life of an immortal is a dreadfully lonely one, for it is marked by an eternity of watching the ones you hold dear grow old and leave this world, drifting away like echoes of a song in the breeze while you remain unchanged,” he began, his voice carrying an unbearable weight to it, one that endured centuries of loneliness and sorrow. “Not being able to experience the love you desire so much for such a long time can be really hard, and it can make you do unspeakable things, desperate to find someone who can stay with you for more than just a fraction of time.”

Your hands balled into fists. “So you decided to restrict my freedom because you wanted to be loved? You’ve been alive for so long, yet you never learned how to properly get into a relationship?”

He pulled away to have a proper look at your face. “When you say it like that, you make me sound like a loser.”

“Probably because you are.”

“How rude.”

You huffed. “Don’t you have any friends?”

His face softened. “Yes, I do have friends. But if you’re asking me about people who have had a significant impact on my life like you did, then no—they have long since perished.” He tugged at the corner of his lips in an attempt to hide the sadness that had started spreading across his features. “It’s quite tragic if you think about it; being forced to live for eternity and not being able to form meaningful connections with people because they eventually pass away. You’d cry day and night, wishing you could have done something to make them stay by your side.” He gently reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You’d think I would have gotten used to it by now, but it keeps hitting me like a wave every single time. Oh, they died, too.” He laughed wistfully. “Why? Why am I alone again?”

You didn’t say anything.

“You’re a very kind person, one that I am very fortunate to have met. I’ve never experienced the warmth and affection that you’ve shown me. I never knew what it felt like to be loved in such a way before.” He smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to be with you, [Name], but I didn’t know what else to do. All I knew was that the only way for me to prevent you from potentially falling in love with someone else was to bind you to me.”

“But that’s not how love works; it cannot be forced; it has to come from both people’s hearts willingly.” Placing your hands on his shoulders, you asked, “What did you do all this time that you were alive? Did you not learn anything?”

He gently brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek. “I learned that love is the most precious thing a person can have. As an Archon; immortality and power mean nothing; at least to me, they don’t.” His eyes softened, and he continued, “Of course, I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I’ve done—I can’t even forgive myself—but I hope that you at least understand my struggles.”

You glanced out the window; the sun was setting and the night sky was beginning to blanket the island in darkness. “Have you done something like this to anyone before?”

Venti’s eyes widened slightly at your question, and for a moment he said nothing. He looked around your room, seeming to take in his surroundings anew before focusing back on you. “No,” he replied simply. “I never clicked with anyone before.” He pulled you closer to him. “I did want to have a partner at some point—someone who I would love and who would love me in return—but I never so thought of doing this to anyone.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t really have any experience in… courting someone. So I did plenty of research on how to show the person I love that I had feelings for them by doing things like holding hands, hugging, giving presents, and such.”

To say that Venti had no experience with being in a relationship was an understatement. He had seen how others treated their love interests and was able to pick up on some patterns—the Windblume Festival was a particularly great time to learn about human love—but he also wanted to make sure he did not screw things up, so he took the time to read up on what he should do and how he should act. Sure, he was a master at writing love poems, but he was no expert when it came to managing his own emotions.

When he first began to develop feelings for you, his first thought was to make you a gift. It was the first thing he tried to do for his departed friend—to gift him the feather of a bird. So would gifting you a bunch of flowers show you how much Venti valued your presence in his life? Would cooking for you or taking you on dates to Windrise make you understand that he viewed you as more than just a friend? Would showing you that he was capable of protecting you make you less likely to push him away if his limits were tested and he had to take drastic measures? Guess not.

You raised an eyebrow in response. “Did that research also include kidnapping people?”

Venti looked away, quickly covering his mouth with one hand in an attempt to stifle the choked laughter that threatened to escape.

“Not funny.”

“It is kinda funny.” He looked back at you, checking your expression before quickly saying, “I mean, the way you said it, not the situation itself.” He shifted his body slightly. “I assumed you got my intentions, and that’s why you treated me with such kindness.”

“I treat everyone with kindness.”

“I’m sure I was the most, and that's why I thought that you wouldn’t be so opposed to what I did and would at least try and understand the position I was in.” He sighed. “Anyway. I actually took some time to plan this all out, but I ended up jumping into action way too soon, which is also the reason why I didn’t come up with an excuse to tell your family as to what could have happened to you. I admit I acted prematurely. I wish I didn’t let my intrusive thoughts win,” he paused and then added, “Tell me, did I do something against your will during your stay here?”

“No,” you admitted. “Because if you did, you would have been six feet underground by now.”

“Oh wow! That has got to be the best comeback I heard from you so far. Who did you learn this from?”

“He’s sitting right in front of me.”

Venti giggled. “Did you get anything else from me?”

“Not your insanity that’s for sure.”

“Do you think I’m too far gone? My ideals are still freedom, even after what I’ve done, that’s why I give you the freedom to go anywhere you want—within this realm, that is. If I were completely out of it, I would have kept you chained, but I don’t.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?”

“I would be.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re in fact far gone; you just don’t realize that.”

As much as he would have loved to put you in your place for your cheeky remark earlier, he had to control himself; you were still in the early stages of getting used to your new life.

His grip on your thighs tightened, a physical reminder of the power he held over you. “Hmph. Come to think of it, maybe I should have kept you chained when I brought you to the tower; a slip on my part,” he mused. “I almost got a heart attack when I came back and discovered you weren’t there.”

“Fuck you.”

Venti tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingertips gliding against your cheek. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit early for that?” He giggled. “You know, judging our relationship before this whole situation, I thought you’d stay to listen to what else I had to say instead of doing your silly little escape. I really thought you’d have some compassion.”

A loud slap landed on his cheek, its sharp sound reverberating through the air. His head whipped to the side, and he felt the heat radiating off of his cheek like an open flame.

“Compassion?” you said through gritted teeth. “You made me think I was safe with you, and then you drugged and kidnapped me!” You lifted your hand to smack him again, but he was quick to get ahold of it. “You selfish piece of shit!” Your breath caught in your throat as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “When you took me to that tower, I didn’t fully register your motives, even after you explained them to me. All I thought was; what did I do wrong to deserve this? To be locked away?”

His heart tugged at the sight of you in so much distress; he tried cupping your face, but you knocked his hands away.

“Is this what I get for being nice to you?” You quickly swiped away the tears with the back of your hands. “You don’t deserve to be called the God of Freedom.”

“Do you really think I was going to let go now that I finally found the person I was looking for for so long?” He didn’t wait for you to answer; instead, he once again brought his hand up and gently wiped away your tears. “[Name], I wanted to be loved, too.” He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace. “I love you, so much,” he whispered softly.

You hiccuped a few times as the tears kept rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not saying you don’t love me, but trapping me here isn’t a good way of showing that.”

“You’ve been very distant with me, so it has been difficult to do that.” He leaned back, taking your hands in his. “Could you give me a chance? After all, I told you I’d make you happy, didn’t I?”

You hesitated, wavering between one state of thinking and another. “How are you going to do that?”

The answer was obvious, but he felt like teasing you.

“When two people love each other…”

You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, accidentally snorting a laugh. “I wish you’d shut up.”

That was not the real answer—at least not at this point in time.

His eyes looked intently into yours as though he were trying to hold onto the sound of that laugh forever, not sure when he would ever hear it again. He grabbed the hand that covered his mouth, brushing his lips against your fingers before kissing them one after the other. “I wish you’d make me.”

“Stop talking like that.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“That was supposed to make me laugh?”

“You just did.”

“I said shut up or I’ll end you.”

He laughed again. “You seem to forget I’m not human, and as such, there’s no way for you to get rid of me. But hey, there are other ways to stop me from talking,” he said as he pointed at his lips with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You stared at him with a blank expression on your face. “I’m done with the conversation.” You attempted to get off him, but he placed his hands on your waist, holding you still.

“Where are you going? We still have got to discuss a few things. First,” he said, holding up a finger, “No more hunger strikes. I don’t want you lying to me and saying that you ate when you didn’t. It’s painfully obvious anyway.” He grabbed your chin, directing you to look at him. His expression was stern, but it also had a hint of concern. “Did you hear me?”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. I thought that you’d get tired of dealing with me soon enough and would end up setting me free. You can still do that, you know, I won’t tell anybody that their God has gone insane and went against his own beliefs by kidnapping a person.”

“How tempting.”

You huffed. “Why does the God of Freedom need to set rules anyway? What happened to go forth and establish a city of freedom without rule?”

Venti clasped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “You’re such a devotee!” He giggled. “I totally understand what you mean, though, but sometimes rules are necessary; you humans just don’t seem to know how to behave properly sometimes.” His mind drifted back to the aristocracy that had taken over Mondstadt shortly after Decarabian's fall, ruling the region with an iron fist for 1.600 years. They went from being noble protectors to tyrannical rulers whose influence was spread far and wide.

“Ironic.”

“Alright, second rule; stop trying to kill me. Do you know how creepy it is to wake up in the middle of the night to see you standing beside my bed, holding a knife above my throat?”

“Mr. Big Anemo God Barbatos fears he might get his throat slit?”

“Hey! That won’t kill me alright, but I still feel pain, and you know that.”

“Oh, I sure know.”

“So?”

You hummed in thought, a yawn escaping as your exhaustion began to catch up with you.

“[Name]…”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Another yawn interrupted your reply.

“You look tired.” He smiled. “Why not rest your head on my shoulder?” He cocked his head to the side. “Or does your pride get in the way?”

“Keep pushing your limits; I don’t mind slapping you a second time.”

He wagged his finger from side to side. “One of these days I’ll have to properly punish you.”

There it was again; the clenching of your jaw and irritated swallow.

Defeated, you laid your head on his shoulder.

As soon as your body touched him again, Venti's breath hitched, and his grip on your waist tightened slightly. He felt his face heat up as his braids radiated a dim teal hue, resembling a flickering lightbulb. He looked into your eyes, his expression softening. “Giving up?” He sighed. “Oh, what am I gonna do with you…” He blew out a breath, pushing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. “You sure have given me quite some trouble.”

Gradually, he began rambling about various random topics, like a song he performed on that specific day of autumn where he got plenty of tips and even a free bottle of wine. He recounted a funny incident where he had tried to dance on one of the tables of the tavern and then broke it, which prompted Diluc to kick him out of the building and leave him standing out in the rain like a wet rat.

As he spoke, he did not notice that your breathing had slowed and your eyes were gently closed. With a smile on his face, Venti finally fell silent. He looked down to find you asleep on his shoulder. “Did my speech bore you?” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “You should have spent some time with a friend of mine; that old blockhead keeps on talking and talking about the same stuff every time!” He felt a sudden sting on his cheek. He reached up to touch it, but quickly flinched away. “I’m gonna have to use some ice on this…”

Venti slowly and gently stood up from the chair, cradling you in his arms, then walked towards the bed, careful not to make too much noise so as not to wake you up. He laid your head on the pillow and then tucked a blanket around your body, making sure it was snugly fit.

His gaze fell on your lips; they were slightly parted as the softest sighs left your mouth. They looked full and inviting, with just the slightest hint of a curve inwards at the corners. The hint of color made them all the more attractive—a hue that looked as if it had been painted on with care. He brushed his thumb against your bottom lip, slightly tracing it as his mind replayed his previous words; ‘I wish you’d make me.’

He chuckled to himself. “Maybe another time.” He leaned closer, his hand tenderly enveloping yours as he placed a light kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

He watched you with bated breath, wondering if you would stir, if your features would relax or tense. He waited for a moment, for any sign, even the subtlest, that his heartfelt confession had reached you, but you were still just as peacefully dreaming as when he laid you on that bed.

#yandere #venti x reader #venti x y/n #yandere venti #lord barbatos #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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vldsideblog · 1 year

Text

Here’s a quick oneshot based off of the idea that Shiro just decided to ignore all the times Keith did something alien like and decided it was too much work.

It was a quiet day on the Castle Of Lions. Pidge and Hunk were playing some game they had hooked up in the lounge. Coran and Allura were locked in a very intense staring contest. Keith and Lance were sitting on the floor painting their nails. And Shiro was relaxing on the couch with a cup of “not quite tea.” Everything was peaceful, until Lance had to ruin it.

“Ya know, Keith. It’s kinda weird that you’re half Galra, you look completely human!”

“Yeah,” Pidge chimed in, still focusing on kicking Hunk’s ass in some Mario Kart ripoff.

“It’s a bit strange with how Galra traits seem to be passed down, I think you’d be purple or something.”

“I wouldn't say I look fully human.” Keith grumbled as he waited for the black nail polish to dry on his thumb. “My canine teeth are pretty pointy.”

“Yeah, but that’s normal weird stuff! Shit like that just happens sometimes!” Lance complained loudly.

“I don’t think you guys know what you’re talking about. When I first met him I thought I was losing my mind.” Shiro said, staring blankly at his lukewarm cup of tea.

“What the fuck does that even mean!” Lance threw his arms up in the air. “Did he turn purple or something!?”

“Not exactly,” Shiro glanced over at his brother, “Can I tell them?” “Yeah whatever, as long as they leave me alone about this after.”

“Scouts honor.” Lance put a hand over his heart.

“Uh man, you were never in the Boy Scouts.”

“Shut up Hunk! Kidding, love you dude.” Pidge adjusted their glasses, “tell us what?”

Shiro cleared his throat, “Back in the garrison, when we first met I could’ve sworn that his eyes changed when he got angry. Like his pupils looked like a cats” Shiro had set down his tea at this point and was waving his non-metal arm around for emphases. “I had to convince Matt to not write a research paper on him.”

Pidge snorted, “Yeah that sounds like Matt.”

“Um, I think we’re all missing an important point here. WHY DIDN’T YOU QUESTION ANY OF THIS!!!” Hunk questioned reasonably.

“Honestly I was really busy getting ready for the Kerberos mission, I just chalked it up to puberty and tried to keep him out of fights.” Shiro huffed, taking another sip of his tea. Keith rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t that bad.”

Shiro spat out his tea. “Not that bad?! Keith, one time you got in a fight lost a tooth, a permanent tooth. And it grew back in a day!” “To be fair I thought that was normal.”

“Why did I. End up with you as a brother!” “Shut up I’m a great brother.”

Shiro sighed, “One time when Keith was over for the holidays I heard something in the kitchen, when I went to see what it was I swore I say glowing eyes, turns out it was just Keith getting a snack.”

Lance bursted out laughing, “He’s like a weird cat!” Keith rolled his eyes again and added another layer of polish. “Cats' eyes dont glow jackass.” “Oh shut up!”

Pidge who was now very invested in the conversation and taking notes cracked their knuckles. “What else does he do? It could be helpful information.”

“Are we seriously doing this!” Keith mumbled, everyone opted to ignore him.

Pidge began scribbling furiously as Shiro listed things off.

“The whites of his eyes turn yellow, he growls, his fingernails grow and sharpen.”

“Holy shit!” Lance said in awe.

“I’m not done yet. He can jump really high, has great night vision, his hearing is super good. Am I missing anything Keith!”

“I Don't know, I don't really pay attention to this kind of stuff.”

Everyone collectively groaned.

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abstract-crossverse · 1 year

Note

Can I have a oneshot where reader comforts overworked Hank? I really love your writing btw!!

Sure can do, thank you!

===========================

"Overworked" // [Hank x Reader, fic, fluff]

Hank sat at the trunk of the truck the duo had stolen for the trip back to base, and assuming he was exhausted was an understatement, even the funny one and the other one noticed and Hank knew that, but the two wouldn't dare point it out, at least for now until the smoker decided to open his big mouth;

Hank had just jumped on the trunk and plopped himself on the floor, unresponsive to Sanford and Deimos, not even a glance as Deimos attempted some sort of conversation. 2B was sending Hank on too many missions, way more than usual... Don't get them wrong, Hank is a very active Grunt, they're not the type to stay without a job to do for too long but this was just too much, even for them, it made them wonder if Doc was working on something bigger behind the scenes while they cleared way...

But that doesn't matter at the moment, right now Hank was just overly aware of everything touching their skin.. the heavy fabric of their coat, the leather and metal from their belts and ammo bags, their socks and boots, the mask, the bandana, the cold metal prosthetic against what's left of their face.. and the drying blood that drenched their clothes just made it all worse... They just feel so suffocated- it's been a while since they've felt like this- they never really figured out why they get so hyperaware of anything touching them sometimes and it just- uGH it almost drives them insane...

He groaned, hands shaking as he sat up and leaned against the walls of the trunk, looking out into the distance. He couldn't wait to get home, first, he needed to greet you- then put his gear to wash, and then spend time with you, the other two could report back to Doc, he doesn't care whatever that old man has to say he NEEDS to take a break.

Finally letting the world seep back into his senses only now did he realize the two were chatting, Deimos's obnoxious voice being the first thing to hit his ears, Sanford's rough laugh coming right after, rolling his eyes he leaned towards them

"do you drive any slower? When are we getting to base?" He questioned sternly, clearly annoyed they weren't 'home' yet "ey don't get ya undies in a twist, Hank, we're almost there, that communication tower was pretty far.." Deimos spoke, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the right window

What a disgusting vice... Hank would've killed him already if they didn't work together... Sure Hank has smoked a handful of cigarettes in the past too. Still, he never let it become a vice, that's what grinds his gears about it, people who get too addicted to a stupid chemical reaction in their brains from plants, even with the knowledge that those kill you slowly, they didn't care, smoking kills, and if that won't, he will. Hank's crosshair scrunched slightly at the faint smell of tobacco seeping through his mask before turning his attention to Sanford speaking

"yeah, I can see the base from here, we'll be there in a few minutes."

"good." Hank said, leaning back against the trunk's wall and closing his eyes "eager to see yer 'partner in crime'? I'd be." Deimos chuckled at his remark, throwing the cigarette butt out the window after putting out the flame, Hank only huffed ".. none of your business, smoker....." He said barely above a mumble

..... 'undies in a twist'.. hah, that's funny...

---

Soon enough, Hank felt the truck go slower suddenly and park, opening his eyes as Sanford pulled the handbrake. He stood up with a groan and jumped off onto the ground, walking with long steps past the duo, who abruptly stopped talking before Deimos yelled over to Hank

"Ey! Arent ya gonna help us get the shit to Doc??" The shorter grunt motioned to the trunk with a hand, Hank barely looked over his shoulder ".. you have arms, you can do it yourself, you don't need me for that." Hank walked into the building oddly stiffly, leaving a crossed-armed Sanford and irritated Deimos behind

Walking inside, they read the living room with their eyes, finding it strange no one was there even after looking over the couch, Doc was likely where he set up the makeshift medbay as always so he didn't feel the need to stress over that, next was the kitchen, they peeked in only to find it barren, now they were starting to get nervous, where are you?

He went room to room in your search, growing more and more anxious with your missing presence, leaving the medbay for last he speed-walked his way to the corridor where the rooms were and opened the door to your shared room, relief washed over his body once he saw you mid folding your clothing and staring at him startled, he sighed

"Hank? Good to see you back but you alright?" You said while finishing folding a shirt in your hands and putting it down, walking over to him as he leaned down to gently bonk his forehead with yours "mhm.. I just got worried you were sent out for a mission and we weren't told, I didn't find you anywhere in the main rooms.."

"oh, well you have nothing to worry about, I'm fine!..." You looked down at his hands, who found their places on your waist, feeling them slightly shake with a tense grip "... You sure you're okay? You seem.. tense?" Hank huffed, he was hoping you wouldn't notice "I just... I'm not even sure, I'm hyperaware of everything touching my skin right now.. it happens at times and I don't have any idea why." He explains, letting go of you and closing the door behind him, walking to your shared bed while undoing the belts around his gear

You hummed in thought, averting your eyes not to look at him while he undressed from his gear "well.. you may be overstimulated." You mumbled, stopping Hank in his tracks "... The fuck is overstimulated?"

"It's like, you were exposed to too much visual, auditory, and/or physical stimuli, so much your brain is kinda short-circuiting in a way, which can make more irritable and easy to anger than normal, it may have a different effect on different people but that's what I've usually seen it described as."

He took a moment to let the information sink in, eyes moving ever so slightly between the floor and you, then shrugged "sounds about right, I don't know much about this kind of thing so I guess I'll trust your judgment."

You nodded, a small silence before you talked again "say, you go take a shower and cool off, I'll get your clothes to the laundry." You said, stepping over to Hank, taking his coat he had carelessly tossed on the ground, as well as his Bandana and mask, he nodded once you looked at him, he got up from the bed, briefly pressing what was left of his lips and jaw to your head before the took a set of clothes from his bag and walked out to the bathroom as you went out to the laundry room in the basement

As soon as you were back, Hank was waiting for your arrival, sitting on the mattress you call a bed waving his feet under the thin blankets you've had to stack for some sort of warmth during the cold nights. It was oddly funny to witness, it made you snicker as you made your way to the mattress yourself, Hank let himself fall onto the shitty pillows behind him—which made you jump due to his weight, you giggled as you laid down as well

Hank covered themselves up to their shoulders, laying on their side and snuggling their way to you, nuzzling into your chest with a sigh as you wrapped an arm around them, a hand gently petting their head in comfort

They wrapped their free arm around your waist, they sighed again, the cold of their jaw and hot breath felt funny through your shirt

".... I missed you." They mumbled as your hand worked it's way to gently massage their back, their thumb making gentle circles on your back

"I missed you too.." you mumbled, pressing kisses on his head "so, so much." A low rumble came from him, slowly getting louder, it was comforting, you let out a sign of your own. After a moment of silence, you spoke again "are you feeling better?"

He nodded into you with a hum, you were always so tenderly soft with him, Hank J. Wimbleton, Nevada's most wanted criminal and killer, melting into someone's arms? He thought it was impossible. He never of the day he'd meet someone as great as you

You hummed, closing your eyes as you two soaked into each other's presence, Hank stayed awake a bit more after you fell asleep, wondering how he was so lucky to have a partner such as you before he eventually fell asleep, feeling the safest and calmest he's ever felt with you in his arms.

===========================

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #hank madness combat #madness hank #hank madness #hank j wimbleton #hank #madness hank x reader #mc hank x reader #maskwrites #fic #anon

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e-wills-afterhours · 1 year

Note

Heeey. I have a request, Hiccup having phantom pains and Astrid taking care of him? Thanks!

A/N: Sure thing, Nonny. I think I wrote this very oneshot years ago, but I cannot find it, for the life of me. Might as well do an updated version!

And who doesn't love a little Hiccstrid tenderness, amirite?

Our beloved OTP is 17 here. I also seem to be writing a lot of Hiccstrid from the 5-year gap between HTTYD 1 and 2 lately minus RTTE...

Aaaaaand, I'm kind of okay with that right now. I hope you are too.

Rating: T (all of my work pretty much is unless I rate it otherwise)

Just One of Many Things

-------

If Astrid was asked to list all of the things she appreciated about Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, it would be long. Perhaps, equal in length to all of the things that aggravated her about him. Some qualities even held spots in both categories. His stubbornness, for example, could be quite the asset when he was in the right; but just as much a headache when he got stuck on some new harebrained idea.

She loved him, regardless.

Growing up amid dragon raids, she did not understand the old adage "opposites attract." It seemed counterintuitive. What held two people together who could not see eye-to-eye on anything? In those days, there was no one more unsuited for each other's company than she and Hiccup.

But then the fog of war lifted, and she finally saw him for who he was. She came to realize that they had more in common than she dared to imagine. They wanted the same things, from the world and each other; albeit their approaches were drastically different. Therein lied their beautiful counterbalance. Everything she needed was within his capacity to give.

He was patient and kind, slow to anger, and remarkably intelligent--almost frighteningly so. Generous with his resources and abilities, she seldom had to ask him for anything he hadn't already thought to provide. He was the calm to her storm.

But true to form, some of his other admirable qualities irked her as much as they endeared him to her--and in that moment, his fierce independence was the bane of her existence. He had a pesky habit of refusing to ask for help, even if he needed it.

The more she pressed him for the truth, the more he denied the extent of the problem.

"Just because you can suffer in silence, doesn't mean you have to," she huffed, arms folded. "You're not winning any prizes."

"I'm fine," he insisted, through gritted teeth as he limped toward the hearth, all but dragging his prosthetic along.

His gait was always the slightest bit uneven, ever since the Red Death took his left leg. One needed a keen eye to notice it; he had adapted so quickly. It made his exaggerated lurches all the more pronounced and worrisome as he braced himself against the mantle.

"You're in pain," she said, frowning deeply.

"It's just a little burning," he replied with a feeble smile, the faintest edge in his voice.

Astrid could make out the beads of sweat glistening on his brow and upper lip from across the room. The crackling fire illuminated them clearly.

"Hiccup, there's nothing there to burn," she retorted, pointing to his metal appendage.

He let out a dry laugh. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Astrid clicked her tongue. Unlike him, she was prone to impatience. She strode across the room and grabbed him by the shoulders. With a sweep of a well-placed boot to the ankle, she kicked his good and steady leg out from underneath him. Looping one arm beneath his, she guided his fall and avoided further injury as he crumpled to the floor.

"Frigg og Eir!" Astrid, he hissed when he landed. "You don't have to kick my leg out from underneath me! I only have just the one!"

She crouched down in front of him, her expression flat. "At least your sense of humor's still intact."

"Are you going to be kicking that out from me next?" he asked, indignant.

She sighed and sat back on her knees. Her face softened when she considered his labored breathing and clenched fists. His mouth was a tight, thin line as he tried to force the pain down where she wouldn't see. But the suffering was plain in his eyes.

"Please, let me help you," she murmured, placing a hand on his knee. "I want to do this. Just...tell me how."

He paused for a beat, then said, "You really don't have to--"

"Hiccup...," and his name was a soft plea on her lips; one he never could resist.

A drop of sweat trickled down from his temple. He stared at her. There was obvious tension in his neck and shoulders. His left leg jutted out stiffly in front of him while he leaned back. It was as if he thought distance from his metal leg my improve things.

He finally relented with a shuddering exhale.

"Okay." He sat up a little straighter and repeated with more conviction, "Okay."

Astrid gently unfastened his prosthetic and set it aside. Not too long ago, he would have never allowed such a thing--to spare her from his indignity, or some such nonsense. But she never cared, and he had come to accept that. A quarter or more of the adults on Berk had some sort of fake extremity: battle scares of a bygone era. Nothing about Hiccup could ever repulse her. After all, she had grown up alongside Snotlout and the twins; and nothing was sacred anymore.

"When was the last time this happened?" she asked as she rolled his pantleg up over his knee.

"Months ago," he replied, teeth clenched. He breathed through the pain, nostrils flaring. "I don't remember. It's been that long."

"What now?" she asked, holding what remained of his lower leg in her hands.

He betrayed himself with a small whimper, then gestured vaguely at the kitchen. "There's a cloth or a rag. Boiled water on the pot on the table. Should just be warm now."

Astrid filled in the blanks, which wasn't difficult. She got up at once to fetch the rag and took it over to the pot of water that had more than likely been boiled for tea, or some other herbal concoction. With caution, she tested the temperature of the water with the knuckle of her pinky finger. Deciding it was no longer scalding, as Hiccup had said, she dunked the rag in. The excess water, she wrung back into the pot.

"Do I lay it on, or do I wrap it?" she asked, returning to where her boyfriend sat on the floor.

"Wrap it," he replied. Then, with a weak grin, he added, "Please."

Astrid nodded and wrapped the warm rag around the stump of his leg with great care, covering as much of the residual calf muscle as possible. She gave his leg the tenderest squeeze.

He let out a groan, head falling back as he supported his weight on his hands.

"No good?" Astrid asked in alarm. "Is it too hot?"

"It hurts, but it's perfect."

She wrinkled her nose. "What?"

"Do...that again," he said, making a kneading motion in the air with his hands.

"Massage?"

"Yes. But it sounds better when you say it."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're such a dork. I mean, truly-- the smartest dumbass I've ever known."

He flashed her a genuine smile then laid all the way back on the floor. She settled in a crossed-legged position and massaged the length of his lower leg, up to the knee, over the warm rag.

They stayed in comfortable silence apart from the occasional pop and hiss from the fire. Hiccup, lying down with his eyes closed, and Astrid, tending to the stump in her lap. It was peaceful and uniquely intimate. She'd keep at it all night to take his pain away, if he only asked, but she knew he never would. So, she did what she could for him in that late hour, running her thumbs to the bend of his knee with steady pressure. Followed by long, kneading strokes back down to the end of his limb, where thick ribbons of scar tissue and mangled remnants of flesh all came together, long stitched off. She wondered how much of her touch he could still feel. He had never told her.

She wondered vaguely if her parents were expecting her home. Time was of little consequence whenever they were alone together. The minutes either crawled or flew by; it didn't really matter either way. All Astrid cared about was easing some of the burden he carried. To help, to do something for him, was all she ever wanted.

Hiccup's breathing eventually evened out. His skin was no longer adorned with sweat, and all the tension had left his body. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was asleep.

"Hiccup?" she asked, cutting through silence, and it was almost jarring.

"Hm?" he replied, opening his eyes to meet her gaze.

"Does the pain always feel the same? Like your leg's on fire, I mean."

He thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then answered, "Yes. It happens far less often now than it did in the beginning. But the feeling is always the same. Maybe slightly less intense, but I can't recall."

Astrid shook her head. To imagine a sudden and unexpected sensation of one's own flesh burning was horrific.

"Well, that's awful," she muttered.

He shrugged. "Gobber told me this 'phantom pain' happens more often in the first few years. I might get to a point where it doesn't happen anymore. Or it could happen randomly and infrequently for the rest of my life. Who knows."

"I just...hate that it has to be you."

A silence fell over them again, much heavier than the last. He studied her all the while, his eyes appearing impossibly warmer in the firelight.

He sat up slowly. "I'm alright now. You can stop." When she shot him a skeptical look, he insisted, "Honestly, it's passed. These episodes don't last forever."

She sighed and handed him his metal leg, which he took after rolling his pantleg back down. The speed and finesse with which he reattached was always interesting--but what was more remarkable was that he never complained. Not once, that she had ever heard. Yet, he had brought peace to their island, and he saved the people that had chided him for years--but no one else lost limbs in that fight. Just one boy and his dragon, against an ancient monster, risking everything to stop the cycle of fire and death that plagued their people for centuries. The exchange seemed one-sided; that he should still experience echos of pain from that day, was a terrible injustice in her eyes.

"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.

He glanced up, brow furrowed, as if the question itself was confusing.

"The Red Death is gone. The dragons are free. Berk is safer for our people and our dragons. You're safer." He took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. With the utmost assuredness, he answered, "No. I don't regret it. Not for a moment."

She closed her eyes and leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

"You're unbelievable, Hiccup Haddock," she said. "Completely unbelievable."

"I thought that's what you love about me."

"Just one of many things," she murmured against his lips, and he smiled.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #i rewrote this like 3 times #here you go i guess?#*jazz hands*

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