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pretty-red-garnet · 6 months

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Pumpkins and Candy

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Commonwealth • Fluff

Happy Halloween!

It was Halloween in the Commonwealth. Your eyes danced between all the different venders handing out treats, each one sweeter than the last. The day was warm, the sun cascading over the large street festival. People crowded the streets, kids in costumes followed by their parents.

You never imagined you'd be celebrating Halloween after the end of the world.

You moved your gaze to instead look at Daryl, sweetly playing and talking with RJ. You begin to smile without even meaning to. The sight was unbelievably adorable, you'd even say domestic. Daryl smiling and tossing an apple on a string for little RJ to catch.

Daryl with the kids was always something you'd watched with great adoration. It seemed kids were just drawn to him, and he never minded. He was so good with them. In fact, it was watching Daryl with little Jude that made you realize you were in love with the man.

It was after Rick died, after you'd known him for about a year. Daryl was gone more often than not then, but he always made sure to be there for his niece and nephew. Always hugging and holding them tight first thing when he arrived back to Alexandria for trading.

Judith was young, and jumped into his arms so fast he almost fell back. He smiled so brightly, so genuinely. Your heart fell to your stomach so fast it made you sick. You were down bad, and it wasn't going away any time soon.

And now that you and him were neighbors in the same shitty building, you were closer than ever. Having dinner together most nights when he was too tired to cook, watching the kids when he was busy, spending most of your free time together. You were both pretty much attached at the hip. You'd even call him your best friend. He was the one person you knew you could count on for anything.

"You are so smitten," Carol says, breaking you out of your stupor with a startle. You roll your eyes and giggle a little, although it sounds more awkward and tense than you intended.

"Am not." Her elbow meets your ribs and she grins at you.

"Smitten as a kitten." You purse your lips at her to stop your smirk, although it breaks through.

"You're ridiculous," you say, crossing your arms and turning away from her slightly to return your eyes to Daryl. "Aren't you supposed to be handing out cookies or something? Or do you get paid to bother me?"

Carol laughs and shakes her head. She watches as you— not so discretely— gawk at Daryl. She lets out a deep sigh.

"Why don't you just tell him?" She asks.

"Tell him what?" You retort, playing dumb and not meeting her gaze.

"That you're in love with him!"

"Shhh!" Your eyes glance around almost comically, making sure no one hears the woman. "I am not!"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't care if anyone heard." She rises an eyebrow, making you scowl and scoff at her. Carol was the type of person that can always read others. She was always watching, she knew how everyone thought. It was pretty scary.

"I didn't want Daryl to hear!"

"Didn't want me to hear what?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Daryl stands beside you, watching you with a curious expression. Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to come out with a response, mind totally blank.

"Uh," you mumble. "Nothing." Daryl furrows his brows, regarding you with a look somewhere between concerned and straight up confused.

"I guess the secret is out, Y/N," Carol says, melodramatically with a shrug. "You should just tell him."

Your face blanches, your mouth continues to gasp like a fish. Daryl looks even more confused now, looking between you and Carol.

"That you're cooking Daryl's favorite meal tonight!" Carol says, excitedly. You let out a breath. While now you have to make dinner instead of relaxing at home like you'd planned, at least it was a save. Somewhat.

"You don't gotta do that," Daryl says, looking at you with that adorably concerned expression he always has when someone tries doing anything for him. His brow pinched and teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

"She wants to, Daryl," Carol says, placing her hands on her hips. You look from Daryl to Carol, feeling strange and helpless that Carol was speaking on your behalf with you right there. It was a little nice though, since the near-revelation of your romantic feelings for Daryl was still making your mind swim.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you finally stumble out, awkwardly and with a stutter. "Sorry to spoil it."

"Don't gotta be sorry, I shouldn't have listened in," he says with a shrug and a little half smile that made your heart pound. "We'll go to yours tonight then?"

"Actually!" Carol buts in again. "I'll take Judith and RJ trick or treating. It could be just you two tonight." Carol's smile is a weird combination of scary and Betty Crocker. She's setting up a date.

"You sure?" Daryl asks, only to be met with Carol's enthusiastic nod. "Alright, sure. I better get back to the kids." Daryl steps away and once he's out of sight, you immediately wack Carol on the shoulder.

"What?!" Carol yelps. "You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" You ask, incredulously. "That was so embarrassing."

"I got you a date, Y/N. Yes, thank me."

Hours later, and dinner is done. Your apartment is warm and humid from the stove, but the delicious smell of seared meat makes the heat bearable. Your stir fry of squirrel meat and rice sit on the counter, awaiting Daryl's visit. You aren't quite sure if the stir fry was Daryl's favorite meal, but he did mention he liked it best of your cooking.

He's a little late. He was supposed to come by yours right after the Halloween masquerade party, but he still hasn't shown. You sit at your table, picking at your fingernails and tapping your foot. Your eyes keep glancing over at your clock on the wall and you sigh at every passing minute.

You know your destress is a little dramatic. You usually wouldn't be this anxious, but Carol's label of a 'date' rattling around in your brain made tonight feel different. Besides, Daryl is a busy man.

He worked all day, he could be tired. Maybe he forgot? Although it did seem out of character for Daryl to just not show up, he wasn't the type to stand people up.

Your worry is quickly cut short by three quick knocks at the door. You smile and quickly make your way to the door, swinging it open.

"Hey," you greet, moving aside for him to enter.

"Hey," he answers, pointing at the little bucket of candy you have beside your door propped up by two pumpkins. There's a little 'take one' sign that you hand painted accompanying it. "I know I ain't a kid, can I have one anyway?"

"Sure, obey the sign," you say, teasingly smiling at him. He scoffs a little, digging his hand in the bowl and pulling out two candies. You gasp, placing a hand on your chest and looking at Daryl with a dramatic expression on your face. "How could you?"

A smirk takes over Daryl's face before he covers it with another scoff, shaking his head. He pushes you aside to enter your warm apartment, immediately pulling at the neck of his long sleeved shirt.

"Ones for you, dumbass," Daryl says before he smacks your shoulder with a candy. You take it immediately to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth. It was your favorite candy that the little shop in the middle of town makes, and it warms your heart that Daryl remembered which is your favorite.

"Come on, dinners ready." Daryl follows you into the kitchen.

"Already?" He asks, grabbing his plate that you already made.

"You're late, Dixon." Daryl grimaces a little, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

"Sorry, shit went down at the party." You smile and wave your hand in a dismissing manner.

"I'm just teasing you." You and Daryl sit down at your small, round kitchen table. You both eat quietly, Daryl scarfing down his meal like a man starved. Luckily, most are out on the town celebrating Halloween, so the building is quieter than usual. Celebrating. That truly is surreal.

"What're you thinking 'bout?" Daryl asks, having seen the thoughtful look on your face.

"I just never thought I'd ever see Halloween again I guess." You shrug and smile lightly. "I used to love it when I was a kid. Was my favorite."

"Never celebrated it," Daryl mumbles, almost embarrassed. Your eyebrows fly up in surprise.

"No? Not even trick or treating?"

"Nah, no one gave candy. Lotta assholes in my neighborhood," Daryl answers, piling the last bit of rice and meat on his fork. You don't answer and Daryl looks up, shrugging when he sees your saddened expression. "S'fine. Can eat all of Jude and RJ's candy now."

"You've at least carved pumpkins, right?" Daryl looks down, not wanting to sadden you even further with his answer you assume.

You knew Daryl didn't have the best childhood, that his dad was a dick. But you looked back so fondly at Halloween, and it upsets you that Daryl didn't. It made your chest hurt that he didn't have happy memories of dressing up, or getting candy and rushing home to see the goods.

You look down to your lap for a moment, before getting an idea. You shoot up out of your chair, ignoring Daryl's inquiring gaze. You rush out of your front door and stoop to the ground, grabbing the candy bucket up from the pumpkins and dropping it to the ground. You hoist up the two—rather large— pumpkins before lugging them to the kitchen table, making sure the kick the door shut first.

Daryl is now awkwardly standing at your table, already having placed your dishes in the sink. He still has that cute, confused look on his face, but when he sees the pumpkins, it dawns on him and his lips quirk up in a smile. You smile back, a huge and bright grin that makes Daryl's face light up even more.

You're about to grab the knives before another thought hits you, and you jog out of the kitchen to the front door once again. You scoop up the candy bucket, flipping off the light outside your door and bringing that too to the kitchen.

"Ain't that for the kids?" Daryl asks, jutting his chin towards the candy. He leans against the counter with a teasing twinkle in his eye as he watches you set everything up.

"Kids are brats anyway, and I paid for it so I can do whatever I want." Daryl laughs at that, just a huff of air escaping his chest. Basically cracking up for Daryl.

Not five minutes later, both of you are sitting at the table forearm deep in pumpkin guts. The table rattles and shakes with the vigorous scraping of the pumpkin, an attempt to thin the inside of the thick walls.

Daryl's tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and you resort by not looking at him because if you do, you're sure you'll pass out from the flip flopping of your stomach. He keeps glancing at you and your pumpkin, his eyes narrow and focused, to confirm he's doing the right thing.

Once both pumpkins are empty and clean, you get a baking sheet ready and begin to separate the pumpkin guts from the seeds. You place them all evenly and sprinkle a good amount of salt on them. All the while, Daryl watches.

"You like baked pumpkin seeds?"

"Never had 'em," Daryl responses with a shrug. You pop them in the oven and grab two knives, handing one to Daryl.

"Now the fun part."

It doesn't take long for both pumpkins to be carved up, even with the occasional pauses for bites of candy. Daryl is rougher with his knife than you, sticking the knife in and dragging the blade harshly. He does this with great intensity and focus, however, leaning back and moving the pumpkin to look at it from all angles.

You, on the other hand, are much lighter handed. Precisely moving your knife around the orange vegetable to make it perfect. Your hands trained and careful from years of carving.

You and Daryl place your carving tools down around the same time. You turn your pumpkin around to show it off, a big grin covering your face. Daryl smiles lightly looking at your jack o lantern, a large toothy grin with big eyes. It looks almost perfect, directly in the middle of the pumpkin with clean cuts. Daryl suddenly looks embarrassed.

"Mine ain't good," he says lowly, scratching a nonexistent itch at the back of his scalp.

"I'm sure it's perfect! Turn it around," you assure, persuading him to show you his carved pumpkin. He glances at you for a moment, biting his lip before he concedes and turns his pumpkin around.

Daryl's jack o lantern isn't as cleanly done. His doesn't look happy like yours, lips placed in a snarl that is a little crooked on one side. The eyes are off center and one is a little bigger than the other. Despite the quirks, it's perfect in your eyes. Almost as adorable as Daryl's bashful expression.

"It's so cute!" You exclaim, and Daryl shrugs, looking down at his hands tangling together. "I think it's perfect."

"Whatever you say," Daryl says, a huff of air escapes his lips. He finally looks up from his hands and sees your face, smirking when he does. You frown.

"What?" You ask, self consciously. Daryl shakes his head, smiling even larger at your expression.

"You got a little somethin'," Daryl says, motioning with his finger at his own face. You touch your face briefly, trying to feel what he was motioning to. Before you could get whatever it was off your face, Daryl's fingers replace yours.

His fingers, calloused by years of hard labor, are surprisingly gentle at getting the mess of your cheek. He wipes off the sticky residue, showing you the stringy pumpkin guts before chucking it at the table. But even after, his fingers slowly and hesitantly return to your cheek, softly caressing the flushed skin.

It's like he was drawn to you and he can't help it. Two magnets pulled together against either of your wills. You're positive you can't pull away, even if you wanted to. Both stuck in this position, with Daryl slouched in his chair to lean towards you, and you ridged and stick staring at his face.

His face, which you've carefully studied plenty of times, had never seemed so soft. The rugged scar down the center of his eye and cheek at great contrast to his loving expression. He's nibbling at the inside of his cheek, and his eyes cast nervously from your eyes to his hand, which seems to be moving on its own accord.

Before long, you're kissing him. You don't really know who kissed who, just that one second Daryl was staring at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and the next your lips were on his.

The kitchen table digs into your ribs because of the angle, both you and Daryl leaning forward in your chairs to get to each other. You don't mind, the discomfort barely even registering in your brain. All you can think of is Daryl, and his hand still resting on your cheek and how his lips are chapped, but somehow still soft. How you've been thinking about this for so long, and you can't believe that Daryl is actually kissing you right now.

Unable to take the uncomfortable angle any longer, you stand just slightly without removing your lips from Daryl's. You shuffle closer to him, leaning down and raising your knee to rest on the chair between Daryl's legs. Daryl leans back to accommodate you, and his hand drops from your cheek to grab your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself, and you kiss him harder.

Daryl's fingers tremble, but they slowly slide under your shirt. Your quiet groan is muffled by Daryl's lips, but he heard— or felt— anyway, telling from the smile that curves his lips. You only part for hurried pants of air, before he chases your mouth again. It's a game of push and pull that neither of you want to ever end. It might've never ended, only if you never put those pumpkin seeds in the oven.

The loud, shrill noise from the oven beeping is a great difference from the quiet passion that was just taking place. You and Daryl startle away from each other. Your hands are still on his shoulders and his fingers still squeeze at your hips, but you're both looking towards the interrupting oven.

You slowly turn your gaze back to Daryl. He's still looking at the oven, with a anxious look on his flushed face. His hair is messy from your wandering fingers, and his eyebrows are low from what you could only assume is embarrassment. You smile and tap his cheek, and Daryl turns to look at you with uneasy eyes.

"Ready for those pumpkin seeds?" You ask, smoothing down his hair. His face relaxes at the sweet gesture, like he thought you'd be upset or something for kissing. Daryl can be silly sometimes.

He nods and returns your smile, and you can't help but place one more hesitant and quick peck to his mouth. He chases you when you pull away, and you giggle. You allow yourself to card your fingers through his wavy hair one last time before you pull away from him completely.

You pull out your roasted pumpkin seeds and lay the sheet down on the cooling rack. You admire the perfectly done seeds and look back at Daryl to share the feeling. His ears and cheeks are still red, and he has a small bashful grin on his face. Your lips quirk up on their own accord.

Maybe Daryl didn't have great memories of Halloween to look back on, but you hope you gave him at least one he won't forget.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #halloween

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loggiepj · 6 months

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one day

Summary : Just a short fluff.

The scary thing about falling in love — it had a funny way of sneaking up behind your back when you least expected it. It would claw its way into your heart, build a fort there, take a big portion of space, and probably, either if you're lucky or unlucky, would stay there forever.

At least that's what Wanda felt when she first saw you.

It started when you and your family moved into the house just next to them. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon. Wanda and her twin brother, Pietro, were just fourteen years old. She could tell you were around the same age as well.

You were totally drenched as you helped your parents drag stuff after stuff into your new home.

"Y/n/n, hurry, you're going to be sick!" your mother called out from your doorstep.

Y/n/n. Y/n/n. Wanda could immediately tell your nickname suited you.

You wore a simple white shirt with a colorful rainbow printed on the back, making Wanda wonder about something. You laughed at your mother's scoldings as you carried in your arms a baseball bat, a cassette player and what seemed to be a huge telescope.

What struck Wanda speechless was the way you looked different. And there's something about your smile as you smiled back at your mother that made Wanda's heart skip a beat.

The word beautiful wasn't always in Wanda's vocabulary until that day. It was as if everything else seemed ugly and dull in comparison to you.

You had Y/e/c eyes and y/h/c hair tied in a bun. She immediately imagined how it would look like without the hairtie, how it would feel in her hands when she would thread her fingers through it. She wondered if you'd be okay with her brushing or caressing your hair until you fell asleep.

Wanda didn't even realize she was staring until Pietro made a comment about a drool he saw on her lips. He ended up with a small bruise on his arm that day from Wanda's punch.

Later that night, Wanda didn't even expect they'd have visitors as she came running down the stairs for dinner. But when she immediately saw your face, she stopped on her tracks. Frozen.

It turned out their ever kind and hospitable mother invited the new neighbors for a dinner. A sort of welcoming present.

Wanda's eyes went to send daggers towards a snickering Pietro, immediately knowing he was the one who suggested the dinner this time.

When your mother introduced yourselves to each other, Wanda couldn't stop repeating your full name inside her head, swearing she could have said your name out loud.

Wanda acted different that evening, not when she was seated next to you. She could even pass as stupid, when you asked for the bowl of mashed potatoes near hers yet she gave you her own plate instead.

Before she slept that night, Wanda made a comment to her brother about something weird with the food and what it was doing to her stomach.

It took her a moment to realize that the weird thing she felt inside her were butterflies fluttering all along.

Of course, you'd go to the same school she and her brother went to. It was the nearest one in the neighborhood. Wanda and Pietro rode their bicycles to get there every morning.

Wanda tried to avoid interacting with you, not because you were too pretty for her liking, but because she didn't want you to know how she was treated in the school, or at least by the evil classmates that she had, Natasha, Yelena and Maria. From how thick they put their makeups on, they could be mistaken as seniors.

"Oh, it's the witch again," Natasha sneered the moment Wanda entered the classroom. The joke made everyone laugh. Well, everyone except you.

When your eyes met, Wanda wanted to just run away and disappear from shame and everything. But she had to attend the class or she'd fail that year.

"Beware of her, Y/n/n," Yelena added as Wanda made her way to her seat. "She'd put a curse on you when you say something bad about her."

Wanda tried not to listen. She had grown immune to all the teasings about her.

It started when she went as a witch for a Halloween event back in grade school. Every girl that time were either a princess or a fairy. She was the only one who wore differently. And it wasn't even the beautiful sexy kind of witch, but the one with the green face and pointed nose.

Her brother was unscathed. But of course, he was a boy. Of course, he'd be safe. Unlike her, he was popular with kids. If it weren't for Pietro, she'd be bullied physically by her peers and not just with words.

"That's okay. I love witches," you said back with a smile, making Wanda turn her head towards you.

That must have been the first moment she fell in love with you.

You were different as years passed by. You talked to Wanda as if she wasn't weird. You even biked to school together with her and Pietro. You excelled both academically and in sports, making you popular in just a short time. But what made you more popular that Wanda would hear your name whispered in the school's comfort room or even the library was how you only liked girls.

That made Wanda wonder if all your lingering looks at her she swore she saw meant something. The electric touches. The awkward stutterings whenever you two were left alone by Pietro in their house some days you three decided to watch a horror movie together. And mostly, the way you'd come to her rescue like her knight in shining armor whenever the evil three were present and bullying her.

But she knew she wouldn't ask you out. She wouldn't risk losing your friendship. Especially when she revealed to you that she liked girls too after some guy named Vision asked her as dance partner in your junior prom and she declined, making you ask her why.

For years, Wanda stayed on the sidelines as she watched girl after girl threw themselves at you. She had gotten used to it, how you return their advances yet not too far as meeting their suspecting kisses. She thought her feelings were gone until you finally went out with a senior and dated her for a good couple of months. That must have been Wanda's first heartbreak.

Yet she didn't know she could be any happier than what she felt when news of your breakup spread out so fast.

But Wanda still didn't make a move.

Until it was senior prom. Wanda wasn't looking forward to attend it at all.

"But sis, it's our last year," Pietro insisted. "We wouldn't get to do this when we finally head to college."

"Come on, Piet," Wanda replied, turning the page of the book she was reading. "It's not like I'd miss anything special. Besides, I don't even have a dress and prom's two days away."

Pietro sighed. "You know Mom could always make a way for you when you just asked for it."

"Ask for what? What did I miss?" Your voice made itself known, making Wanda tear her glance away from the book to look at you as you entered then sat on the floor beside Wanda's bed.

"Wanda's not attending prom," Pietro confided, making Wanda threw the nearest pillow at him.

"What?" you asked, then you looked at Wanda. "But it's our last year, Wands. You wouldn't want to miss it."

As much as she'd miss hearing you call her name like that, she'd rather stay at home than watch dancers on the dance floor while she'd be left alone on the bleachers.

"That's what I was trying to tell her," Pietro said as he made his way out the door. "Now I have a party to attend to. And you," he pointed at you, "have a lot of convincing to do."

Then you and Wanda were left alone.

"I know what you're going to say," Wanda muttered as she opened back her book. "And my word is final. I'm not going to attend the prom when those cruel stepsisters of Cinderella are present."

You softly chuckled as you stood. Then you made your way to her cassette player where a cassette tape that you made and gave her last Christmas was already inserted inside. You smiled as you hit the play button.

Wanda's favorite song began playing. She had listened to that song on repeat for days now.

You walked towards where she was sitting then held out your hand.

"Can I have this dance, then?" you said with conviction.

"W-What?"

You smiled. "Would you do me the honors of being your first prom partner?"

It rendered Wanda speechless.

"C'mon, no evil stepsisters are invited in this room," you added.

She softly giggled as she finally got off the bed and took your hand.

It was the dance of her lifetime, nothing comparable to any prom there was in the world. You and Wanda danced and danced for what must have been an hour.

When a slow song came into the background, Wanda swore the tension thickening when she caught you staring at her lips and almost leaning closer towards her. She could even feel the wonderful warmth exuding from your body as you both pressed against each other.

Wanda swore that could have been her first kiss. But Pietro suddenly entered the room, complaining how the party ended so quick.

When you finally had the courage to ask Wanda out, she felt like she had grown wings and she could fly. It was as if you had finally heard her whispered prayers and opened your eyes to see her — the one who will willingly love you until her dying breath.

In a sea of people, you were the most gentleman and sweetest person she had ever known. You took her to see the movies. Then afterwards, you brought her to your backyard where a candle-lit dinner was prepared. You both watched the stars that night. And Wanda had a chance to see how huge the craters were on the moon through your telescope.

Wanda couldn't forget her first kiss with you.

It happened when you two were baking cookies for the school's charity event. She didn't even know she had chocolate left on the corner of her lips from having to taste test the first batch. All she could remember was how you nonchalantly wiped the thing off her mouth with your thumb after which you sucked it clean.

You let out a small moan, too soft she thought she was only imagining. You had no idea, of course. Completely unaware that two darkened eyes followed the tip of your thumb as you took it off your mouth. Not seeing how Wanda was biting her lower lip from said action, stopping herself from doing anything stupid. You were totally oblivious of the effect you had on her.

And Wanda couldn't control herself anymore as she pressed her lips on yours. It seemed as if time stopped as she pulled away and watched your surprised state. And when apology was already on the tip of her tongue, you pulled her back and kissed her. You kissed her the way she deserved to be kissed.

Wanda learned how soft your lips were that day. And how perfect yours and hers fit against each other as you made out all afternoon. How she learned that tongues had the most amazing muscle in the world.

For which she had concluded later on.

"Y/n/n," Wanda moaned one night with your head between her legs. It was when you and Wanda stayed in a hotel as you headed to visit the University you both were planning to attend. Pietro was just in the other room.

"Please don't stop, please don't stop..." Wanda held your head, grinding herself shamelessly against your face. You had no plan on stopping anyway after you made her come for the nth time that night. At least, Pietro's scoldings the following day about how he wasn't able to sleep well from all the noise were all worth it.

Years later and it was still Pietro's complaints when he and his family decided to spend the holidays with yours. To be completely honest, Wanda expected you and her would be alone when Pietro offered to take your twins to go sledding and not even five minutes after they had left the driveway, you and Wanda were shedding all of your clothes off in haste, hungry mouths drinking each other.

"Hey," Pietro called, snapping his fingers in front of Wanda. "I can see the drool all over your mouth."

Wanda blinked, her hand instinctively went to wipe what wasn't there. When she saw Pietro holding his laugh, her hand curled into a fist as she punched his arm.

"Ow! That hurt!"

"Well, you deserved it!"

Pietro complained as he massaged his arm, "Well, it's also not my fault you're ogling your eyes at our new neighbor."

"Ogling? I wasn't ogling—"

When Wanda attempted to go closer towards her brother, Pietro immediately ran out of her bedroom, screaming for help.

Wanda shut her bedroom door with a loud thud as her eyes went back outside her window. You were still standing, drenched in the rain, as you waited for your father to untie more boxes you'd be carrying inside.

She knew then from that moment on, you'd be important in her life. And she was going to make you hers one day, even when it would probably take her years.

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda #short prompt #elizabeth olsen

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

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Coming Home (Part Fourteen)

Azriel x Reader.

Ahhhh, brace yourselves. This is a big one, folks. A storm is a’brewin’.

Happy Halloween!

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT 🌶️🥵

⧪

You woke the next morning with a blanket draped over your body – and a leaden weight on your shoulders, in your heart.

You felt…numb. And not numb at all. Achingly empty and yet so full, you couldn’t possibly cram any more inside your head. Restless, like you wanted to run and run and not stop; where, you weren’t sure.

After the argument with Elain the day before, Az had spent the day plying you with tea and mindless, easy conversation. You knew precisely what he’d been doing – keeping a close eye on you, sensing that you were teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. But not once did he raise any of the pressing subjects that were dragging on you.

Not once did he acknowledge the total shit show that was your life, and your relationships with everyone in it.

How could you face Starfall that night, when everything had piled on top of you so suddenly? When you felt a few steps away from a total fucking break? You wandered up to your bedroom, staring around the cold, empty area that, it seemed, no personal effects could fill or warm. It lacked life, lacked spirit.

You…you lacked life, you realised. Lacked spirit.

Returning to Velaris hadn’t been what you’d thought or hoped it would be. The initial reunions had been euphoric, of course, but it had taken a while for you to realise something that now seemed blindingly obvious.

You couldn’t be happy here – not right now. Couldn’t be happy anywhere, in fact, because you just weren’t happy, fullstop.

And it wasn’t just the situation that existed between you and Azriel. It was bigger than that, more than that. This thing went back years, had started long before you were old enough to harbour romantic feelings. It was a sickness, of sorts…a plague. A hatred. For yourself.

You stared in the mirror, not recognising one bit of the person that stared back at you. Had you ever been happy, even in those small moments of light? When your big brother had simply doted on his little sister, and it had nothing to do with him being a High Lord or ruling a court?

Had you ever had a chance to be happy?

Your father had hated you from your first breath to his last one. He’d told you what you’d become – a disappointment, a burden – and somehow, in your attempts to avoid those very things, you had, indeed, become them.

And travelling, seeing the world, had been nothing more than a ruse to get away. Because you’d thought, perhaps, that being away from the people who saw you for what you truly were, reinventing yourself every time you went someplace new, would somehow fill that chasm that lived inside of you.

Bandages. You’d just slapped bandage over bandage over bandage, and now they were all fraying, exposing your wounds, and you were losing the fight against them.

You never should have come home. Should never have turned up on your brother’s doorstep, shattered pieces of your soul in tow, and hoped that no one would notice how broken you truly were.

Home. Where even was that for you? You weren’t sure you had one. A place where you felt at peace, and whole…content and wanted and loved–

A thought struck you like a ton of bricks.

Frowning, you strode over to your dresser, pulling the drawers open and rifling through one by one. It had to be in this room somewhere – you knew you’d carried it everywhere with you and brought it back to Velaris with you; a tiny little keepsake you never wanted to lose.

Buried in the bottom of your armoire, tucked into a coin pouch, you found it.

The edges were torn, the colouring yellowed – the note was sixty years old, now, but you treasured it as much as the day its author had handed it to you.

A young, new High Lord who had been just twenty years of age and thrust into a daunting role, with views and opinions so aligned with your own, with a zest for goodness and peace. Your time spent in his company was, perhaps, the only time you’d felt true happiness. The only time you hadn’t thought something was missing from your heart.

You unfolded the note, smiling down at the neat handwriting. It gave you the comfort you absolutely needed in that moment.

I wish you weren’t leaving us, but should you ever travel this way again, or you simply want to come and play with us, you’re always welcome in the Summer Court. I’m deeply indebted to you for your counsel and friendship these past months. Don’t forget about me, Lady of the Night. Warm regards, always – Tarquin.

Tarquin. What a light he had been, in those few months you’d spent in Adriata, soaking in the sun and tasting the wine and helping a young male who was absolutely terrified of the responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders. You’d never returned to the Summer Court after you’d left – though you’d always sworn you wanted to – and only ten years later, they’d been trapped Under the Mountain.

Maybe you should have returned to Adriata, rather than Velaris. Maybe there, you would have sorted yourself out instead of spiralling.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to do so.

You weren’t sure. But with that little, folded note in view, you felt the slightest easing of the weight on your shoulders.

You gathered yourself together, did what you were supposed to do and began to get ready for Starfall.

But as you did, your thoughts were far, far away, on crystal blue waters and sandstone palaces.

⧪

“You wished to see me?”

The House of Wind had been rapidly filling up since the sun had begun to set over the city. Azriel and Cassian had flown back and forth, transporting the guests from the ground, up into the house where the celebrations were already underway, drinks and conversation flowing. Az had made true on his word to fly Killian up there, and the poor male was currently being pelted with questions from both Mor and Feyre.

And Rhys — Rhys had summoned you to this pokey little office to have a private chat.

He looked up at you, taking in the dress Az had bought you, your hair and makeup that you’d somehow found the will to perfect. His mouth kicked up into a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“As do you.” And he did — a true vision of the Night Court high lord. You stayed standing. “Why did you summon me here?”

“I know we agreed not to discuss anything too pressing until after Starfall, but…” He pursed his lips. “I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing after yesterday. After…”

You folded your arms. “After Elain suddenly decided she had a backbone? I’m fine. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve coaxed a cat’s claws out. If she keeps it up, she may actually start to look like she fits into this court.”

Rhys’s eyes closed. You watched as he pressed two fingers to each temple, gently massaging the area. A long, deep sigh was dragged from his lips. Like he was trying — and failing — to stifle his temper.

“What is it, Rhys?” You pressed.

Those violet eyes flickered as he glanced up at you. “Elain shouldn’t have behaved how she did yesterday — and I’ve made that clear to her. But you…I need you to have some compassion.”

“Compassion? Compassion for what?”

“Elain has suffered some terrible things—“

Your barked, incredulous laugh swallowed up his words. You shook your head. “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

So he hadn’t summoned you here to check on your well-being —- but rather, to ask you to be kinder to Elain. If you weren’t already feeling so empty, so checked out, you may have actually screamed.

“Elain isn’t like you, Y/N.” Rhys said. “She doesn’t have your resilience. She isn’t brave, or confident, or—“

“If you truly believe that I am those things,” Your eyes met his, “then you do not know me at all, brother.”

For just a moment, he stared back at you. His brow furrowed, and his mouth became taut — like he was trying to puzzle you out, trying to find some semblance of the person he’d once known. But he wouldn’t find it; he seemed to realise that as he sat up in his chair.

“What is going on with you?” He demanded. “Since you came back to Velaris, it’s like—like you’ve been on a downward spiral. You’re acting out, pushing everyone away. And you’ve always been stubborn, and outspoken, perhaps a bit brash at times…but unkind? You’ve never been unkind. And yesterday—“

“Yesterday was not supposed to go the way that it did.” You pressed your lips together. “I simply wanted to talk to Elain, and I regret what I said to her when things got heated. But the way she’s acted, Rhys, the whole time I’ve been here…I can’t just sit back and ignore it.”

“She’s been through a lot—“

“And what about what I’ve been through?!” You snapped so suddenly, you shocked even yourself. You slammed your hands down on the desk, begging your eyes not to well up with tears. “What about what I’ve suffered?”

Rhys blinked at you. “I don’t know a thing about what you’ve been through because you haven’t told me.”

“You haven’t asked!” You needed to move, needed to get out of there before you truly lost it, but you couldn’t force your feet into action. “Nearly an entire fucking century I was away, and you haven’t even asked what I’ve been through. Whether I’m okay.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m not, Rhys. I’m not okay at all.” You hated, hated so much, that your voice cracked. “I’m broken. So fucking broken, I’m not even sure I can piece myself back together. I’m lonely. Bruised. And I’m so fucking tired!”

“You—“

“I saw death — out there, in the world. So much death, so much violence, it will never leave me. I may not have been trapped under that mountain with you, but I was still trapped. Trapped inside my head, moving from place to place and trying to find somewhere that I might actually feel whole. Somewhere I could become someone you would be proud of. And I tried to be that person…tried to learn things and help people and make things better, but I can’t do that because I’m the problem! So while you all assumed I was just galavanting around the world and having a merry fucking time, I was drowning. Suffocating.”

Rhys’s eyes were pleading, now, the colour so stark, you could be forgiven for thinking he was crying. “I don’t — I’ve never known how to help you, Y/N. I’ve always sensed something was wrong. I know that you went through a lot. Our father damaged you…and Tamlin’s father…and then Azriel…”

Just like that — just like that, you went so very, very still. A chill skittered through you like claws caressing your insides.

The words were the slap that Elain had failed to land.

“What,” you said bluntly, “does Azriel have to do with this?”

Rhys sat back in his chair. Squared his shoulders. The pitying gaze in his eyes made you feel sick to your stomach. And you…you felt smaller than ever.

You felt just as you had when you were a child. When Rhys would kneel down before you, to speak to you at eye-level. When he would soften his features and speak so gently, because you were his little sister — somewhat more like a daughter to the young male barely out of his adolescence — and he would do anything, anything to protect you.

Where had that relationship gone? That ferocious love? Had you, the hate and anger that ate you up from the inside, destroyed it?

“…it’s why you left, right?” He said quietly. “Because you were in love with Az — and he was in love with Mor. Anyone with half a brain cell could see it.”

Your eyes shuttered. No. You couldn’t talk about this. Not with him. Azriel had pushed you away for Rhys. To preserve his feelings — to keep to his loyalty for his friend, his brother, his High Lord.

And Rhys had known the whole fucking time? Had sat back and kept his mouth shut, like watching some shitty love triangle from a shitty romance novel play out? Like the whole thing was petty and meaningless, something you would have just gotten over with age?

And then he’d let you go out into the world, let you try to run from your feelings, straight into ones that were so much worse. So much lonelier. He’d let you build up such a guard, such a hatred.

And yet he was here, wanting you to be kinder to Elain.

You couldn’t stay here. In Velaris. There was no possible way you could stay here.

“I…” You spoke with dangerous calm. “I am not having this conversation with you, Rhysand. This ends here.”

“Y/N—“

But you were already turning your back on him, wrenching the door open. “Enjoy your night, brother.”

⧪

Churned up though you were, you decided to stay — for Starfall.

In some useless hope that the stars would zip by and carry your problems away. Maybe even carry you away.

Somehow, you floated around, drinking and dancing and socialising as if absolutely nothing were wrong. As if you weren’t a high fever about to break. A volcano seconds from erupting.

You’d given Killian sweet smiles that didn’t reach your eyes and pretty laughs that tasted sour in your mouth. You pretended to enjoy yourself — and when Killian plucked up the courage to talk to Rhys and Cassian, his eyes alight with utter awe at them — you felt relieved for the break. For the opportunity to drop your smile for a few moments.

But it was too noisy. Too much. Everyone had gathered on the main balcony once the sky’s displays had started, and you felt crowded, suffocated. Too hot and too boxed in.

With their faces tilted up at the sky, nobody thankfully noticed as you slipped away and went in search of some solitude. You quietly wandered inside, taking the staircase up to the roof that was unoccupied and just the right amount of quiet, even with the bustle of voices and music still audible from below.

You felt closer to the passing stars up here. Close enough to reach out just past the railing and touch. They seemed to dance around you, in front of you, cartwheeling their way through the endless expanse of night sky, and you couldn’t…couldn’t help wondering if perhaps one of those passing souls was your mother. Floating around you. Watching over you.

Couldn’t help wondering what she would think of you now.

Only when the door opened behind you did you realise you were crying. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, attempting to shield your face, to dab at the tears without completely destroying the artwork of makeup you’d painted onto yourself. Perhaps Killian had peeled away from your brother’s side and come looking for you. Perfect, you thought — you wanted distraction, to feel something or nothing, to feel reckless and dangerous and light on your feet—

“What happened.”

The question was dark, blunt — almost a snarl. Not Killian at all. Azriel shut the door to the roof behind him, and he was by your side in a couple of great strides, prising your hand from your face.

“What happened?” He repeated. “Has Kameron upset you?”

You couldn’t help but snort — albeit weakly, pathetically — dabbing your eyes. “His name is Killian.”

“…I really do not give a shit.”

No, you didn’t doubt that at all. Anyone glimpsing the Shadowsinger tonight may have merely seen his usual guardedness, but you knew him better than that. He didn’t like Killian, and he wasn’t pretending to. He’d barely breathed a word while Rhys and Cassian had plied the sweet male with questions.

“He didn’t upset me.” You said, leaning against the railing. “I’m just…reflecting, I suppose.”

“Reflecting.”

You could feel Azriel’s intense stare on you. He mirrored your position, bracing both arms on the railing and letting it support his weight. And gods, every bit of it — it was so much like that last Starfall. So much like that night that changed everything. The two of you alone together, the night sky a burst of brilliant shapes and sounds and colours. Your bodies brushing side-by-side. A host of unspoken words weighing on your tongue.

And you were…you were older. Obviously. And different. You just really weren’t sure, anymore, that the difference was a good one.

Az hadn’t torn his eyes from your face once; even with the exquisite sights that were happening right there, close enough to touch.

He angled his body towards you, the warmth of him brushing your bare arm. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

Good question. You wanted to laugh, to ask him if he had a spare millennia to puzzle out your complicated thoughts with you. But you merely focused on a passing star, your brow pinching.

“…Do you think she’d be proud of me?” You asked, your voice far smaller than you’d intended. “My mother, I mean.”

Azriel seemed surprised by the question — such a rare thing to catch him off guard. He blinked, frowned, and then touched your arm with a feather-like gentleness.

“Of course she would.” His voice was soft, quiet. “Why would you even ask that?”

Slowly, you shook your head. “…I don’t think I would be, if I were her. Proud. I don’t think she’d— “

Your words were cut off as Az’s rough hand suddenly gripped your chin. He turned your face to his, his jaw ticking as he stared down at you with that molten intensity in his gaze.

“I think she’d have more pride than she’d know what to do with.” He said. “I think she’d see how brilliant, how compassionate, how strong you are, and she’d know that no matter what, she wouldn’t have to worry. That somehow, no matter how bad things may seem, you would always be alright.”

Your eyes shuttered. You couldn’t stare at him — not like this. Not this close, with such words leaving his lips. It was easy to remember why you’d bridged that gap all those years ago and acted on your feelings. How simple, how second-nature it had been, to lean forward and kiss him.

You couldn’t make that mistake again. Not…not after everything. Not with everything else to contend with.

So you simply whispered “thank you”, and gently pulled your face from his grasp, angling yourself forward again.

He didn’t leave, like you half expected him to. He sidled closer to you, his arm pressing against yours, and you welcomed the warmth, the comfort, that he — and his wings — provided.

“You don’t have to keep me company up here, you know.” You smiled softly — I’ll be leaving soon enough anyway, was what you didn’t add. “You should go back and join the fun.”

“I think I’d rather be up here.” His eyes tracked a passing star, its light bringing out the flecks of green and brown that made up the hazel. “Besides — I think your lover is still drooling over Rhys.”

You rolled your eyes. But you were thankful for the lighter turn in conversation, the jesting in his tone. It felt good — normal. “He’s not my lover.”

“No?” He angled towards you again. “You fucked him. Isn’t that what a lover is?”

“I’m not sure it really counts if you didn’t get to cum.”

Az stared at you — and then threw his head back, and laughed. A great bellow of a laugh that was so at odds with his usual quiet, you couldn’t help grinning at the sound, the sight of his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” He smiled — a gods-damn breathtaking smile.

You shrugged. “Nope. Such an affront leaves one very frustrated.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.”

He pushed away from the railing, his feet falling into slow, relaxed steps around you. You wondered, for a moment, what exactly he was doing — whether he was returning to the party after all.

But then you felt the warmth of him at your back. The solid press of his body flush to yours, as he seemed to enclose you against that railing, the span of his wings cocooning you both from the rest of the world.

“Perhaps I need to make up for it, then.” He said. His voice was a deep, delicious rasp.

Your entire body had gone taut. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think — weren’t even sure you were breathing as your hands tightened on the railing. Every bit of Az was overpowering you in the most addictive way, his potent, spicy scent filling your nose, the warmth and hardness of his body holding yours upright, the fanning of his breath against the nape of your neck. He was tall enough to rest his chin atop your head, but he instead dipped it, angling it down.

His lips brushed your bare shoulder in a barely-there caress, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Tried to remember why this was a bad idea.

“This fucking dress.” He murmured, repeating the action with a slightly firmer press. As he did so, he snaked an arm around you, his hand brushing your navel.

Your eyes fluttered shut. “I…” You cleared your throat. “I thought you liked this dress.”

“I do. Perhaps too much.”

His lips ghosted along your shoulder again, moving further, further, up the column of your neck, where he seemed to settle. He pressed a gentle kiss behind your ear, and you released a shaky breath.

“…Az…” You whispered, letting your head fall back. “…what are you doing? What about…what about everything you said?”

With that one hand still rubbing light circles into your navel, he raised the other to your shoulder, toying with the strap of your dress.

“Maybe,” He murmured, “everything I said was what I thought I should say. Not what I wanted to say.” That hand on your stomach dipped slightly lower. “And maybe I’m tired of doing what I should over what I want.”

“…is that why you’ve been so different these past couple of weeks? The notes…the flirting…”

His hand inched lower, lower still. Now dancing just over where your waistband lay. “Maybe our conversation in Windhaven made me realise things. Made me realise that I want to be more than just the Spymaster. Want to feel more than just my duty. Maybe seeing Lucien defend you yesterday made me understand how I’d failed you.” Another light brushing of his lips. “I want…I want to feel alive, Y/N. And nobody makes me feel that quite like you do.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think— “Oh.” Was all you managed to whisper.

“Oh, indeed.” He hummed. Pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Do you want me to stop, Y/N?”

Panic bleated somewhere far away inside you…because how could this be happening now, when you’d reached your breaking point? When it felt too late?

But if he stopped, you may just grab him by his wings and launch him off the roof. You…you could have this, couldn’t you? Mindless pleasure for the sake of it? A distraction from the fact that you were sinking?

Yes, you decided. You could.

You placed a hand against his, pressing it against you, as if to prove your point. You could have sworn he laughed.

“No.” You ground out. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Before you could register his movements, he was spinning you in his arms. Your back was pressed against the railings, and he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I cannot tell whether I want to stare at you in this dress or rip it off you.”

And then he was kissing you.

Hard, hungry, passionate. The railing was bitingly cold against the skin of your back, and yet every part of you was warm. You opened your mouth on a gasp, and he slipped his tongue inside, the taste of him — of the fruity drink he’d been nursing — drawing a moan from your throat.

His other hand — the one that wasn’t gripping your face — moved down and down until his fingers were skirting the hem of your dress and the skin of your thigh, the brush of his calluses a delicious scrape that you wanted to feel on every part of your body. He kissed you harder, exploring every inch of your mouth he could get to, and slowly began to lift the hem of your dress up.

You reached up, fisting the front of his shirt in your hand and attempting to yank him closer to you, harder against you, but you were stopped. He tore his lips from yours.

This, a horrible voice in your mind told you, is where he realises he fucked up and walks away. Again.

You stared up at him, your lips still tingling. A lick of worry rose in you—

But he smirked, his eyes studying your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips. His gaze seemed deeper, darker, somehow. You wanted to kiss him again, to taste him — but he stopped you as you leaned in.

“No.” He rasped. “I want to look at you while I give you that orgasm you didn’t get from Kristian.”

You gasped as his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear. “His name is Killian.”

“I know.”

Any suitable response quickly eddied from your mind as Az’s hand slipped past the waistband of your pretty, flimsy underwear. If he hadn’t already scented your strong arousal, he found it waiting for him as his fingers reached the gathering wetness at your centre.

“Fuck.” He growled. “You’re soaked.��

“Yes.” You breathed, pushing against his hand. “Because of you.”

The way he looked at you could have suggested that you’d given him the secret to eternal happiness. He bit his lip, his eyes locking with yours. And then dragged a finger right through your folds.

“Oh gods,” Your head fell back as his thumb pressed against that sweet spot at the apex of your thighs. He began to make slow, torturous circles, his other hand forcing your face back to his.

“Look at me.” He grunted, pressing down on the sensitive nub. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

He was…gods, he was perfect. You’d always known he was skilled, an expert with his hands — you’d seen him use them enough in training and in work. And you’d be totally fucking lying if you said you hadn’t imagined what else those brilliant hands could do, in the dead of night, when it was just you in your bed, your hand between your legs.

But this — the real thing? It put those heated fantasies to shame in an instant.

His eyes were locked with yours, tracking every one of your micro-expressions, the way your brow furrowed, how you kept alternating between pressing your lips together and allowing them to fall open, allowing a whole host of noises to fall from them. Not once did Az look away from you.

With his thumb still rubbing circles against your clit, he brushed a long finger through your wetness, dragging it slowly down towards your entrance. You bucked your hips towards him, practically begging him to slide that finger into you, and he released a deep, guttural laugh.

And then did exactly that.

“Fuck.” You gasped, your hips bucking again. “Oh, gods, Az.”

“Like that?” He’d stilled his hand — just to make sure you were comfortable. He couldn’t seem to resist leaning forward and kissing you once, quick, before he pulled back to stare at you again. “Feel good?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, can you—“

His finger began moving inside you before you could complete your request. What started as a slow thrust quickly picked up, the pace of his thumb also increasing against your clit, and your head fell back once more as he slipped a second finger inside you. His free hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing your gaze back to his, and pure, feral need flashed in his eyes as he studied you.

It seemed to do something to him — watching you, maintaining eye contact, as his fingers thrust inside you, your release tightly coiling in your stomach. The whole world had melted away, and it was just the two of you, not even the passing stars able to compare to what you were feeling right then.

“Look at you,” Azriel ground out. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Gods,” You moaned, your hand clamping down on his wrist — simultaneously trying to slow and encourage his movements. It was too much, too incredible, and you could feel it unfurling rapidly. “Gods, I’m gonna—“

That was all you managed to get out before release barrelled through you, the words dying in your throat and becoming nothing more than staggering, breathless moans.

You’d never felt anything like it — never had a fucking orgasm like it. Like…like you were lightheaded and gasping for air, the world spinning around you. You swore you could see swirls and colours and shapes, as if the travelling stars had stopped right above you and Az and exploded, showering you in their shimmering dust and light.

Only then did you realise Az had gone completely still, his hand still in your underwear — and he, too, was staring up, up at the sky above you, and—

The stars were exploding directly above you. Raining down on you. Iridescent, glowing dust was falling onto your skin and in your hair. Never had you seen them do that before.

You didn’t know what was happening. Couldn’t think. All you were aware of was something rocking you to your very core, like the world was cleaving in two and making room for…for something else. Something more. You weren’t sure if the roof was truly trembling around you, or if that was just you, your body, your release—

Az tore his gaze from the sky and looked at you.

And there, in your soul, in your heart, in your thoughts, you felt it — a resounding snap. Like something clicking into place. Something taking residence in your entire being that felt old and new at the same time. And complete. So utterly complete.

The way Az was staring at you, his eyes wide and alarmed, his lips slightly parted — you knew he’d felt it, too. Felt that groundbreaking snap that was now burning and growing inside of you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Eased his hand from your underwear. His mouth opened and closed around silent words as he took a simple step back, pure shock taking over his face. Like the shock he’d worn on the night of your return, but…more, somehow. Stronger.

“Fuck.” He choked out, and you swallowed.

You both knew exactly what this meant — could almost hear his shadows whispering around you: mates, mates, mates.

Az looked like he didn’t know whether to scream or laugh or cry or fly right out of there. His body had gone preternaturally still.

“Fuck.” Was all he said again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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hisokakissmeplz · 6 months

Text

Halloween Special

Illumi and Hisoka (separately) I'll post hcs for the other characters maybe

Sorry I totally missed kinktober guys but I'ma try and make it up to you all

Also I don't own any of the characters obviously

Illumi as a Vampire

Poor, sweet, innocent little you. You just wanted some strawberries, you were craving them. But of course, your tiny little village was all out. After hours of asking if anyone had seen any bushes with the sweet red berries, there was only one place that came up.

The old Zoldyck place.

It was empty, had been for years. Unless you asked anyone from the village. According to them, the last surviving vampire in this town still lives in his family home. Which was total horseshit, seriously vampires? No such thing.

So off you went, unafraid. And it was so worth it, these bushes had the biggest red strawberries you'd ever seen in your life. You picked and picked and picked, plopping them all in your little basket and humming to yourself.

Which was fun until someone starting humming with you. At first you figured it was some townspeople trying to mess with you.

"knock it off guys!"

You jokingly called out but the humming didn't stop.

"Seriously, it's not funny!"

This time it sounded closer, almost right behind you. You spun around fast, but nothing. The humming continued, only getting closer.

You spun around again, this time tripping over someone and landing in the bush. Someone, the same someone who tripped you in the first place, stuck out his hand to help you up.

You accepted and stood up, dusting yourself off and thanking the stranger. You looked up, smiling sweetly before you saw his face.

You jumped back, trying to put as much distance between him as you could.

God, he looked just as young as he did in all the old photos you'd seen. Victorian family photos of the family. A family that should've been dead a long time ago.

Yet here stood, their eldest son. Still young as ever. Illumi Zoldyck.

"Miss, you dropped this."

He said, monotone while holding your basket.

Your voice shook, your face growing pale and your heart thumping at of your chest, barely able to put together a sentence you mumbled out a weak.

"You're dead."

"Yeah?"

He seemed confused, like if it was common knowledge. You supposed it was, all the locals believed it.

"Oh. What do you want?"

That perplexed him even more.

"What do I want?"

He repeated.

"You're on my property, what do you want?"

That was fair, his voice was soft and deep, yet alluring.

"I was just, I was just picking berries. I'm sorry I didn't know anyone still lived here."

You explained, your voice weak and shaky. What could you say, what could you do? What would make him let you go, was he going to suck your blood now like all those dracula legends?

"Take them, it's not like I need them."

Oh. That was easier than you thought.

"Though, I suppose that means, you owe me now."

This was it. You're dead. He's going to kill you.

You took off, running as fast as you could. There was no way you could fight back against him but maybe, you could reach the gate and be back in town. If you could just make it a little further.

There he was, right in front of you. There was no way, he was too fast for you to follow. One second he was behind you the next, right in front of you. Before you could think, he was behind you again much closer this time. He grabbed a hold of you by your wrists, pulling you inside the old mansion.

It was a beautiful place, old yes, but in great shape.

"You can't run from debt."

His voice echoed from behind you.

"You can if you're fast enough."

You struggled in his grasp, desperately fighting it.

"Clearly you're not."

God, his voice was hot. This was wrong, so wrong, but part of you was smiling inside. You could have ran faster, but you wanted to get caught didn't you? He is rather handsome. How sick you are, deliberately getting caught by a vampire just to let him suck on your neck. Disgusting. Still, you could feel the familiar warmth growing in your core as Illumi spoke.

"You never even asked what I wanted, you catch on a lot faster than the others."

He was treating the whole thing so nonchalantly.

"Stay with me, just a little while?"

This time he was asking rather than demanding, it was strange. Why would he want you to stay, maybe he's lonely, you thought. Maybe that's why he's lures people here, for company and the whole vampire thing just complicates that. Maybe if you just stay for a minute you can sneak out. Totally.

"Yes, of course."

You feigned an unafraid voice. You truly are brilliant.

"Really, that easy?"

You nodded.

It was nice actually, he invited you up to his parlor. You guys played pool and you actually started laughing at his jokes. He made you drinks, surprisingly skilled too.

He excused himself, and you thought this was your only chance. It was fun, hanging out with Illumi, and he was exciting and handsome, but at the the end of the day he still wanted to suck on your neck.

You made for the window, sliding your fingers over the glass and pulling it up. You cringed at the creaking of it but hurried you best to get out.

You swing both legs over the window seal, when you felt his cold hands on your back. Dragging you back in and tsking under his breath. Fuck.

"I thought you said you stay with me."

"I did, but I need to leave now."

He tsked again.

"Then why not excuse yourself, unless..."

His voice was directly in your ear, smooth and deep, whispering yet still so intimidating.

"you're scared of me."

Yeah, you totally were like who wouldn't be.

"No, of course not."

"No, it's fine. There's no reason to be scared, I won't hurt you."

He came closer to you, slowly approaching you. You stood still, rock solid with your heart beating and pounding in your stomach.

He was so close now you could feel the lack of heat coming from him, before he closed the gap between your lips and his.

He kissed you, so warmly despite his cold skin. He let his hands trace along your arms to your shoulders to your neck to your back, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touched.

You held onto him, kissing back and tangling your fingers in his hair.

He kissed all down your lips to your jaw to your neck, his lips caress over the skin of your neck softly, gently. You play with his hair, enjoy the sensitive touch before.

"Shh, it's okay."

He mumbled, his fangs buried in your neck. You whimper at the feeling, his fangs tugging into your skin and sucking hard on your skin with his lips.

His hands still held you gently, despite the violent abuse of your neck.

"You're doing so well."

One of his hands slipped down to your thigh, resting almost under your skirt. Stilling suck your neck, he waits for your nod of approval before moving any further.

His cold fingertips slowly moving up your thigh and under your skirt. The slow drag of his long fingers, as they tread closer to your core, almost too slowly.

It wasn't long before he hand you over the pool table, his mouth still attached to your neck. You felt fuzzy from the blood loss but still wanting to go on. Your hips meeting his with every thrust has his sharp nails dug into your hips.

The table shook with the force of it, and you were sure it would crack at any second but you couldn't care less right now. Not with the slow drag of his dick, tugging against your slick walls before slamming right back in and hitting your cervix.

"Ill-lumi! Lumi!"

You chanted his name over and over again, almost like a prayer as he kept up his excruciating pace.

He just let out soft moans and grunts against your neck as his fangs hitched into the skin.

You felt the way his dick twitched inside you, letting you know how close he was. Not that you were far behind.

You felt his cold hand sliding in-between you two, sliding all the way down to your clit. Rubbing slow circles and switching direction every few seconds became your downfall.

Your body shook and you head spun, you hands gripping tightly at his shoulders. You hadn't even realized you were pulling his hair till you came down.

Illumi stood up, his mouth dark, deep red and his eyes seemingly glazed over.

He leaned in, kissing you softly. You moved your lips in sync, tasting your blood on his lips.

Maybe picking strawberries at the old Zoldyck mansion wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

Hisoka as Ghostface

"Seriously, you're just being paranoid."

Your friend's voice echoing in the house as she pleaded one more time for you to come with her to the Halloween party.

"You won't think so when ghost killer guy shows up!"

You shouted at her from upstairs, sitting on your bed and watching TV.

"His name's ghostface by the way, and you're missing out!"

You heard the thud of your front door shutting as she left.

Maybe you were paranoid, but you felt much safer at your house watching movies instead of being out with a killer on the loose.

Finishing one movie and deciding to take a quick break and get some more drinks and snacks before turning on the next one seemed like a good idea.

Your fuzzy socks made little noice other than the creaking of old steps as you treaded down the staircase.

You were getting together all your snacks when your heard your phone ring in your bedroom upstairs.

Sighing heavily, you pick up all your snacks and drinks and head up the stairs. The creaky steps squeaking at you pace.

You drop all the food on the bed and pick up your phone. You don't recognize the number so you let it ring. Only a few seconds later, you're phone rings again. Same number, deciding it must be important you answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey~"

"Who's this?"

"Guess."

You think about for a second.

"Danny? What do you want?"

"Wrong. Guess again."

"Danny, seriously this isn't funny."

"You really wanna waste your second guess on him?"

"I'm being serious, you're not funny."

Your voice growing a little shaky, it didn't sound like Danny on the phone but still.

"I find myself hilarious, who's your final guess?"

"I don't know, um, Eric?"

Maybe Danny and his cousin Eric were playing a prank on you. They were dicks and Danny knew how scared you were of the killer.

"Aw, wrong. I win."

"Okay, bye."

"Wait."

You hung up, sighing softly and laying back down on your bed to watch your movie.

The phone rang again and you answered.

"Look Danny this isn't funny."

"What movie are you watching?"

Your heart dropped, his deep, raspy voice ringing through you ears and other muffled sounds you couldn't make out.

"It's a comedy,"

"Don't lie to me."

"How do you know I'm lying."

"You're very pretty, such a pretty girl."

The muffled noices on the other line only got louder, still not clear enough for you to hear. Your hand shook with the phone, you grabbed the blanket to cover yourself.

"Oh no, don't do that. I was enjoying the sight."

"Leave me alone, please."

"Aw, keep begging, maybe you'll convince me."

The muffled sound getting louder, an unfamiliar noice but almost like skin slapping.

You hung up, scared and shaking under your blanket as you set your phone down. A loud banging on your window causing you to drop the phone and run downstairs.

The steps whined in protest as you did. Reaching the bottom of them and trying to catch your breath you look up at the front.

How could you be so fucking stupid.

How could you forget something so important.

You forgot to lock the fucking door.

You sprinted for it, as fast as your legs could take you slamming into the door.

Fumbling with your shaky hands and quickly locking the door.

You slid down the wall, your back against it as you relaxed finally. Pulling you knees up and resting your head on them. Shivering in the thin material of your nightgown, you hesitantly headed back upstairs.

Upon entering your room you heard his voice again.

"What about the back door? Come on you know better."

His taunting voice echoing from downstairs.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you rushed to find somewhere to hide.

You dropped onto the ground fast and slid under your bed. Curling up the best you could and trying to quiet your gasping sobs. You felt the fresh warm tears sliding down your cheeks as you hid under the bed.

You could hear his steps up the stairs, the creaky sound of each slow step. You heard it so many times, underestimating how scary it could be.

He finally reached the top of the stairs, turning to the left.

You could hear his footsteps around the second floor, he didn't know where you were. If you could just stay hidden, maybe he'd leave.

Your heart pounded in your throat, your stomach queasy as he entered your bedroom.

You could see his black heeled dress shoes as he walked through your room. He searched your closet, your bathroom and every other space in your house.

But not under the bed. Not under the bed where you were hiding.

You heard his footsteps leaving the room and the creaky stairs start up. He was leaving.

You were safe.

That was when your phone rang.

The loud ringtone blaring in your ears.

Quickly you shut it off, cursing your friend under your breath for her bad timing.

You didn't hear anymore footsteps though, nothing. He was gone, he left.

Just as you were about to slid out from under the bed your heard his raspy, sweet as honey voice ring out.

"Found you."

His long fingers wrapping around your ankle and yanking you out from the bed.

"No, please!"

You yelled and kicked and screamed, although it was all ineffective.

He pulled you close, sitting between your now spread legs and holding you there.

He was strong, strong enough to drag you around like a doll despite your fighting. You could see him now, by the light of your bedroom lamp.

He was wearing tight black clothes, ones that accentuated every muscle and curve of his body. His face hidden behind an old costume mask, a white screaming ghost mask.

He lifted his mask, just enough for you to see his mouth. His strong jaw line jutting out, complimented by the lamplight.

"You're so fun, you almost won too. If it wasn't for that stupid phone, huh?"

You felt more fresh tears slide down your cheeks.

"Aw, don't cry, we can play a new game."

He purred.

His voice filling your ears as you felt a familiar pooling at your core. That added feeling of his thigh rubbing against you every time he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, not helping at all.

He leaned forward again, his thigh pressing against your core giving you small throbs in your cunt.

"How does i- what was that?"

His voice purred out again.

Your face lit up with embarrassment when you realized what he was referencing. The red heat of your cheeks and the continuous throbbing in between your legs making you turn you head to the side so you didn't have to look at him.

"Aw, shy baby. Did you get caught on purpose? Wanted me to find you, didn't you?"

He teased you with his jaunty voice. He laughed, turning your head to face him and holding it there. He used his other hand to lift up the mask.

God he was beautiful.

He wasted no time, leaning down to kiss you passionately. Hesitating at first, you quickly relaxed into the kiss, despite your situation.

His hands moved down your sides, tracing down your hips to your thighs. He let his fingers dance up your thighs, slowly. Kissing you softly, moving down to your neck.

His hand pulling up your night gown a bit, the other sliding up to feel at your soaked core.

"Oh, dirty girl."

He almost moaned in your ear.

You whined and squirm as his long, pretty fingers play with your clit before sliding one into your desperate cunt.

Slowly, his skilled fingers speeding up as he kisses at your neck and chest. Being sure to leave lots of marks for tomorrow.

You arms wrapped around him as he worked to please, grunting as your core tightened for his fingers.

He slipped then out, you let out a small mewl of disapproval.

You feel him tug at your nightgown, pulling it off before reaching for you panties.

"Name?"

You stopped him.

"Hisoka."

He answered, without looking up as he slid your panties off.

He fumbled with his own clothes stripping down the best he could before growing impatient and lining up with your cunt. He thrusted in fast, stopping to let you adjust to the sudden stretch.

"Ah"

You let out breathlessly, holding onto his shoulders.

"Good girl, that's it."

He set a brutal pace, thrust in and out, pounding into you. The slapping of his heavy balls against your ass filling the room.

You whined and cried out. Your desperate voice almost too hoarse for you to recognize.

Really, you thought. Here you are on your bedroom flooring begging this strange intruder to fuck your brains out. You didn't really care how it sounded though, just never wanted it to stop.

You felt the way your whole body tighten around Hisoka. The familiar feeling hitting you as he sped up his unrelenting pace. Your body shaking as you reached your high. He grabs your hips, holding tightly as he starts to chase his own high.

You feel him dropped onto you as he reaches his peak, his chest heaving in sync with yours.

Some how you managed to get into bed, figuring you'd just clean yourself up in the morning, you fell fast asleep.

"Hey! You up here?"

Your friend's voice woke you from your sleep.

"Yeah?" Your voice raspy.

"I was worried, you didn't answer any of my calls last night and- oh."

Her voice changed, along with a smirk adorning her face.

"You ditched my party for some dick?"

Oh yeah, the marks.

#hisoka morow #hisoka hcs #hisoka morrow x reader #hunter x hunter #hisoka #illumi zoldyck #hisoka hunter x hunter #hisoka hxh #hisoka x reader #hisoka morrow #illumi hxh #illumi smut #hxh illumi #illumi x reader #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi headcanons

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months

Text

Promises

They've been called away on a case just before Halloween, and Emily just hopes they get back home in time so she can see the costume her daughter has kept secret from her for weeks.

-x-

Hi friends,

Happy Halloween!

As promised here is your final Halloween themed fic from me this year. It is soft and sweet and will rot your teeth just like Halloween candy!!

I really hope you like this, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Pregnancy

Words: 2.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she settles down on the seat next to her husband, her head thudding dully on the headrest. They were the first to the jet and were waiting for the others to arrive so Penelope could brief them all at once, a case in Montana pulling them all from their comfortable beds too early on a cold October morning.

“You ok, sweetheart?” Aaron asks, looking up at her from his paperwork.

“Yeah,” she huffs out, sounding anything but as she crosses her arms over her chest, “It’s just if we don’t get this case solved in the next couple of days we’ll miss Halloween,” she says, smiling sadly as she looks up at him and shrugs, “It’s the first year Violet really understands it all. It sucks.”

The four-year-old had been talking about Halloween for weeks. Excited about her costume that she refused to tell Emily anything about, claiming it was a surprise that she’d only let Aaron and Jessica in on. For once her husband stood strong in keeping this from her, something he’d not achieved when he proposed or in the lead-up to her ‘surprise’ birthday party just a few weeks ago. Whenever she tried to get it out of him, only half serious herself because she knew how important it was to her little girl that she was surprised on the day, he’d simply smile and kiss her cheek, whispering against her skin that she’d find out soon.

He sighs sympathetically and wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer, “I know, baby,” he says, turning his head to kiss her temple, “Hopefully we’ll make it back in time and keep our promise, but Jess said she’d take plenty of photos if we don’t.”

Jessica was as much of an aunt to Violet as she was to Jack from the very start. She was totally bowled over by the little girl just as everyone who had ever met her was, and Violet loved her Aunt Jessie, a wide smile on her face whenever she found out she’d be spending time with her. It made Emily feel better, any guilt she felt about leaving her daughter when she went to work was slightly eased by the fact she was with someone who loved her and someone she loved in return.

Emily hums as she leans into his side, “I know, it just…” she drifts off and blows out a breath.

“It sucks,” he finishes for her, repeating her earlier words, mirroring her smile when it breaks across her face. He leans in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers before he pulls back to look at her and places his palm on her still flat belly, “How are you feeling?”

She was only 10 weeks along, and the joy she’d felt when the pregnancy test came back positive hadn’t faded at all. They’d struggled to get pregnant this time around, something that had happened quickly with Violet taking time Emily was worried they didn’t have, the sound of her biological clock getting louder with every month that passed. When it finally happened, two bright pink lines staring up at her, she didn’t quite believe it and she’d cried so loudly Aaron had heard her through the closed bathroom door.

No one else knew apart from the kids who they had only just told. At first, they’d wanted to keep it just between the two of them, but the morning sickness had come on quickly. Unrelenting as just about everything upset her stomach, forcing them to tell Jack and Violet they were going to have a sibling so they were no longer worried about her mother being sick all the time. Violet didn’t understand much beyond the fact she was having a brother or sister, something she was excited about, but Emily expected a lot of her excitement came from being part of the secret just between the four of them.

She groans, “I feel like shit,” she grumbles, “I don’t remember it being this bad with Vi.”

He hums, “Well, you are a few years-”

He’s cut off as she covers his mouth with her hand, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “If you call me old in any way you’re never having sex again.”

Aaron clears his throat, stopping himself from saying that she’d never stick to that threat, that she always wanted him as much as he wanted her because he knows it’s not a good idea. Instead, he kisses her palm and then removes her hand from his face.

“Would you like me to go make you some peppermint tea?” He asks, hiding a small smile as he kisses her knuckles, “I put the teabags you like in my go-bag.”

She smiles and hums, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He kisses her before he stands up, shuffling past her as she puts her legs out in the aisle to give him room, not sure her stomach could handle standing up.

“Don’t call me cute,” he says as he disappears behind the curtain separating the main section of the jet from the kitchenette.

Her retort is interrupted as Derek steps onto the jet, his face screwed up in mock disgust as he replies, “Please don’t call him cute,” he says, slumping into the seat opposite Emily, “Especially before I’ve had my coffee.”

Emily chuckles, “I’d apologise, but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

He shakes his head at her, “What did I interrupt anyway?”

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from spreading, her hand on her stomach obscured by the table between them. She was excited to tell her friends, the people she considered her family, but she also still wanted to keep it a secret for a couple more weeks. She raises her eyebrow at him, and her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Are you sure you want to know?” She asks suggestively, laughing when he shivers and stands up, shaking his head at her.

“I don’t know why I asked,” he grumbles as he disappears behind the curtain too, leaving Emily alone for a moment.

She laughs to herself and rubs her belly again before letting her hand fall to her lap. Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she pulls it out, smiling when she sees she has a text message from Jessica. She opens it and feels a surge of love rush through her, chased by guilt that snaps at her heels.

The message is a picture of Jack and Violet, their arms wrapped around each other, still wearing the fall-themed pjyamas she’d sent them to bed in the night before. Jessica had captioned the picture, making it the first of what Emily knew would be countless updates over the next couple of days until they made it home.

Missing you already, Mommy!

She blows out a breath as she types out a response and puts her phone down, desperate for the others to arrive, for the jet to leave. The sooner they left the sooner they’d get home, and the more likely they would be home in time for Halloween.

___

They make it.

It feels like nothing short of a miracle, a feeling more well-placed for Christmas than Halloween, when they walk through their front door just before when they are due to go trick-or-treating. Jack runs straight at them the moment they step into the house, the large pumpkin costume he’d insisted on not impeding him at all.

“Mom, Dad, you’re home!” He says, running and attempting to throw his arms around Aaron, but is stopped by his inflatable costume.

“Look at you, buddy,” Aaron says, ruffling his son’s hair, “You look amazing.”

“I want to wear it all the time!” He says enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement and Emily chuckles, cupping his chin and wiping some chocolate from his face.

“We’ll see if you feel the same way when it comes to going to the bathroom, sweetie,” she says, smiling when she looks down to see his feet are still bare, “Or putting your shoes on, why don’t you go give it a go so we can head out soon?”

Jack nods, already turning and running back towards the stairs, his arms balancing on his costume as he goes.

“Call for us if you need any help,” Aaron yells after him, shaking his head lovingly when the only response he gets is a wave of Jack’s hand. He crosses Jessica on the stairs who smiles at them when she makes it to the ground floor.

“I am so pleased you made it back in time,” she says, walking over and pulling them both into quick hugs, “Vi is almost ready,” she says as she pulls back, “She was insistent on putting the finishing touches together herself.”

Aaron wraps his arm around his wife and squeezes her hip, “She’s been stubborn since the day she was born,” he says, tugging Emily closer, a wry smile on his face as he does so, “Not sure where she gets it from.

“You.”

Emily and Jessica reply in unison, both of them laughing as their eyes meet and Aaron sighs, trying to suppress his smile as he shakes his head.

“I wonder if there’s a book on what to do when your ex-wife's sister and your wife become friends.”

Emily makes a fake sympathetic nose and reaches up to pat his cheek, “I doubt it, honey, maybe you could write it?”

“I’m ready!” Violet calls from the top of the stairs, cutting off the conversation, and Emily can just about see her shoes from where she’s standing, a plain black pair of sneakers she usually only wore to pre-school. She steps forward, excited to see her daughter after a couple of days away.

“Hi sweet girl, I missed-”

“No Mommy you have to close your eyes,” she demands, not moving, her voice surprisingly stern for a four-year-old. Emily turns to look at her husband who shrugs, a knowing smile on her face that makes her want to kiss him and hit him in equal measure. She rolls her eyes before closing them, turning her body back to face the stairs.

“Okay, my eyes are closed.”

There’s a moment of silence before Violet responds, “Daddy?”

Emily feels Aaron’s hand at her waist as he steps next to her, his hand once against squeezing her hip, “Her eyes are closed, princess.”

“Only a kid that is half you would be such a stickler for the rules,” Emily mumbles just loud enough for him and Jessica to hear her, the other woman’s laughter drowned out by Violet’s loud footsteps on the hardwood stairs.

Emily always wondered how someone so small could make so much noise. How such tiny feet, feet she’d once only felt from the inside, kicks that had once kept her up at night, could thunder against the ground like she was five times her size. It makes her stomach flip as she thinks about going through it all again, how much she already loved the baby she hadn’t met yet. Violet’s steps come to an end when she reaches the ground floor and the house briefly falls into silence.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” She asks, and she feels Aaron hold her slightly tighter as their daughter replies.

“Open your eyes, Mommy!”

The moment she does she understands why this has been kept secret from her for so long. Violet’s costume is made up of a pair of her own dark jeans, a red shirt and one of Emily’s blazers, so big it’s almost drowning her, the sleeves going way past her hands even though they are rolled up. Her usually unruly hair was straightened and styled with a middle part and tucked behind her ears to keep it out of her face. She has a small amount of make-up on, including slightly uneven lipstick, the part she assumes Violet insisted on doing herself.

To top it all off, she’s wearing a homemade FBI badge with her picture on it, pinned to the lapel of Emily’s blazer.

“I’m you, Mommy!” Violet says proudly, her smile wide, and Emily has to blow out a breath in a failed attempt to stop herself from crying. She tells herself it’s her pregnancy hormones but she knows it’s not true, that this would have reduced her to tears no matter what.

She crouches down and opens up her arms, wrapping them tightly around her little girl as she throws herself at her, “You look so pretty, sweetheart,” she says as she pulls back to look at her, wiping her thumb under her lip to even out the lipstick. Violet frowns at her, an expression that is all Aaron.

“Of course I do, I’m you,” she replies, her voice so serious that Emily has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

“Mom, I need help with my shoes,” Jack calls from upstairs, making all three adults in the room exchange a knowing look.

“I’m coming, honey,” Emily replies, picking up Violet and settling her on her hip as she goes, “Come on Agent Hotchner, let’s go help your brother put on his shoes.”

Aaron smiles as he watches his girls go up the stairs and he makes a mental note to take as many photos of them together as he can, well aware that this is a memory Emily will love to look back on with fondness, no matter how embarrassed Violet might be by the time she’s a teenager. He looks over at Jessica and his smile fades when he sees how she is looking at him, a glint to her smile that had only meant trouble for him since back when she was just his girlfriend’s annoying 12-year-old sister.

“What?” He asks, narrowing his eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“We had some…interesting moments when it came to Vi’s costume.”

He frowns, his hands on his hips as he tries to read her, “What do you mean interesting?”

“Well,” she says, stepping closer, her smile only getting wider, “I had to talk her down from shoving a cushion from the couch up her shirt.”

Aaron’s eyes go wide, and he sees the excitement and joy peeking out from beneath Jessica’s teasing, her smile only getting bigger as he realises what’s happened. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding, “Apparently her Mommy has a baby in her belly and Vi knows that means she’s going to get fat just like her friend from school’s mom did when she had her little brother,” she shrugs nonchalantly, “She wanted her costume to be accurate.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, “She kept the Emily costume secret for weeks, but this she spills in a matter of days.”

Jessica finally breaks and she laughs as she pulls him into a hug, “She’s excited to be a big sister,” she says as he hugs her back, squeezing him once more before she steps back, “Congratulations, Aaron. I’m happy for you. Haley would be too.”

He smiles, the mention of his ex-wife now something that only brought up good memories, not the traumatic ones it had done for years, “Thank you.”

Jessica smiles at him, “You kept your promise.”

He looks up the stairs as he hears Jack’s bedroom door open and smiles as his family start to walk down the stairs, the kids in their costumes and Emily still in her work clothes, listening intently as Jack talks to her about his day. He clears his throat as he looks back at Jessica, unsurprised to see the same tears he was failing to push back shining in her eyes too.

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding as he looks at his family, “I did.”

-x-

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lunavenefica · 2 years

Text

⛤How To Celebrate Samhain⛤

Samhain, Celtic New Year, is the passage, threshold, conclusion and beginning.

It is the darkness from which everything begins, the silence from which the first vibration will arise, that initial void that must be in order for birth to take place.

Precious and necessary time. Time of rest and silent listening.

Threshold of this passage, of the limit between life, death and life, Samhain is an open door between the dimensions of time and existence.

The guardian of this threshold is Hecate, an ancient goddess who holds the keys of this Celebration.

Fairies and spirits are especially active on this night.

It is equally one of the many times to honor and host dead ancestors.

Prayers and food are left on the door steps and altar doors are left open and additional chairs are set outside.

Hearths are clean and home hearths are rekindled by a sacred common bonfire that is lit by rubbing.

The patron God and Goddess of this festival are the Dagda and the Morrigan.

On this day, spirits and fairy creatures invite mortals to spend a year together on the Hill of Delights with them; the druids act in the opposite direction, writing messages for the dead and entrusting them to the fire.

With the food and drinks of the afterlife, wine, beer and mead, they feast for the duration of the festival, which takes place from a minimum of 3 days to a maximum of 6 weeks, including meetings, battles, prophecies, spells and ritual sacrifices, in honor of the god of fertility Dagda and his wife Morrighan.

In the Celtic tale "The Wasting Sickness of Cuchulainn", the feast of Samhain is celebrated for a total of 7 days, of which 3 before and 3 after the party night.

To worthily celebrate the full circle of existence we must recognize the reality of death and physical decline as natural events, not as something to be ignored or hidden.

To these energies we must now pay homage but at the same time we must remember the new life that will come.

The Holly King teaches us that death is an end but also a beginning.

Let us keep in mind the lesson of the ancient Celts and do not indulge in sadness!

⛤Little things to do for Samhain:

Collect acorns, giving an acorn to friends and family as a wish for good luck.

Toast the local orchard with ale and cider in thanks for a copious harvest. Part of the harvest was left on the trees to ask for a good harvest in the coming years.

Apples were also buried to provide food for the spirits waiting to be reborn.

Before pumpkins were introduced, turnips were carved outside and lit with small candles. They could then be placed on the windows or carried in procession around the neighborhood to ward off diabolical intentions.

Scary stories were told throughout the night until the crowing of the cock drove all the fairies and spirits back into their world.

Stones marked with the owners' names were thrown into the fire and recovered the next morning. The state of the stone indicated the person's luck for the coming year.

But you can also:

Invite your friends to dinner, dress up as witches and ghosts, decorate your homes with Halloween pumpkins and celebrate traditional games by trying to grab the sacred apples hanging from a string or floating in a basin with our mouths of water!

You can have fun carving and digging pumpkins and turnips, inserting candles in them to expose them to the windows or balconies of your homes.

Finally, it is a moment in which in order to favor our regeneration, we can ritually abandon all the things of the past that we must or want to leave, abandon (let die) the things that we do not like in our life.

We can then write these things on slips of paper to burn them in our Samhain fire, which can also be a black or otherwise dark colored candle.

You can say a phrase three times like: "The so-and-so thing has come into being, the so-and-so thing has its season, and the so-and-so is going away!" Then, the slip of paper is burned in the flame.

We can then, more simply, give away or burn those objects that we no longer like.

It's time to give up bad habits, to change your life! In fact, before the new growth can begin, the soil must be fertilized with the remains of the previous year's crops and with the waste (if there were no death and decomposition there would be no Life).

An undoubtedly more complex ritual, but one that is worth performing, can be performed in our homes.

At sunset, the eve of Samhain, all the lights in the house go out and you stand in front of a black or dark candle. We hear the old year that is about to die, we remember all the good or bad things that you have experienced, we remember the people dear to you who are no longer there, and when we feel ready we light the candle saying: "I welcome them with this light. spirits of those who left before me. Welcome! ".

Let's take a cup or a glass full of wine and drink some, after having said: "To the dead!", Leaving a few drops.

We can then light a special candle for each of your dead friends or relatives: it can also be white or colored candles.

To light them we use the dark candle, and with the same candle we also light the Halloween pumpkin lanterns, if we have made any.

After doing this we take a plate or a tray where we will have put some bread or sweets (you can use the "sweets of the dead" if there are typical recipes in your area) and we invite invisible friends to share the food with us.

Always leave a few portions.

Then, taking the dark candle, we go to all the rooms and turn on all the lights, maybe just for a few minutes.

Let's go out the front door and throw a coin: it should be silver but a common coin will do anyway.

We say: "Money on the floor, money under the door" and leave the coin on the floor for a month, perhaps sliding it under the doormat. It will bring good luck to our home.

Let us meditate on the meaning of this holiday and leave the door of the house open to let our invisible friends in!

⛤Isidora ⛤

#samhain #halloween #happy halloween #spooky season #celts #celtic wicca #wicca #paganism #pagan wicca #samhain celebration #spells #witch aesthetic

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wishmaster · 7 months

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Ugh. The campus I work at is filled with such loud mouthed students. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job teaching English but I always end up with the worst of the bunch. This obnoxious theatre majors are the worst. And on Halloween is the worst. Prancing around it their costumes, referencing some musical I’ve never heard of or some broadway star. I’m sick of it. I just wish I could find a costume this year that would help me relate more to my students. Is there anything that would make me fun and popular like those obnoxious theatre kids?

From Teacher to Student

Your in luck we have yet another ne device here at the store, is the Wish Shower. Step inside and the water will run over you and give you what you are looking for. You do and soon you feel your old body seemingly float down the drain as the new you forms. You get skinny, tattoos spread across your new skinny form. Your hair darkened and piercings appear in your ears, nose, lip and whoa, you even end up with a prince albert. You exit the shower totally dressed, amazed at what you saw reflecting back, you look just like one of your students now.

Your name is now Drew, you love things dark, a huge fan of Edgar Allen Poe, you long to become a great writer like him with less of the tragedy of his life. When your not in school you work at a coffeehouse. You're looking for Mr. Right still even after several failed relationships. But when you are with your theater friends you are the life of the party. This year the theme of your Halloween party is Gothic and you already had your eyes on the perfect costume at this quant little shop across from the strip club. Hope it's still there.

You ended your latest insta story before exiting the shower room, walking right past me and out into your new life as a college student. Your friends were waiting for you at the strip club across the street, one of your friends worked there.

#body transformation #male transformation #cursed object #Wish Shower

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froggibus · 1 year

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Blind Date - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: your friend Natasha is tired of your tragic dating life, so she sets you up on a blind date that you’ll never forget

CW: mentions of the KGB, first date, blind date, you work at a retail store, Natasha is pushy, references to my own bad dating life, Christmas time,

definitely did not post this just so I could have some Marvel on my masterlist anyway here is some Bucky with a first date around Christmas time because now Halloween is over and it’s totally socially acceptable for me to only write about Christmas now lol

I just did a part 2 to this which you can read here

————

“I don’t know, Nat,” you scan another sweater and fold it into the bag. “A blind date?

She narrows her eyes. “You’ve had a revolving door of losers and idiots, not to mention a surprising amount of super villains. Are you really so against the idea?”

You glance up at her between scans. It wasn’t uncommon for Nat to bug you at your retail job, and now with Christmas fast approaching, she was there almost every day buying some obscure gift. That’s how you ended up bagging seven matching Christmas sweaters.

“Is this everything, Nat? Or do you want a partridge in a pear tree on the side?”

She snickers at that. “What I want,” she grabs the bag from your hand, “is for you to stop avoiding the question.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even try to lie about it. I was literally trained by the KGB to get the truth out of people.”

Your boss scoffs somewhere off to the side, clearly sick of your antics with the Avenger.

You sigh. “Do you promise he’s not a weirdo?”

“I promise.”

“Then fine. Text me the details after work.”

“Will do,” she gives a two-fingered salute, “good luck with the rest of your shift.”

You nod and watch her walk out of the store, her red hair swaying across her back as she moves. Your boss shuffles in a bit closer, her apple perfume clouding your nostrils.

“Was that an Avenger?”

You shrug.

5pm. December 24th.

You find yourself thinking: Who goes on a date on Christmas Eve? Yet here you are, smoothing the cream knit sweater over your pants and examining yourself in the mirror. Nat hadn’t said where you were going, she had just said to dress casual and that he would be there to pick you up around 5.

Perfectly on time, there’s a knock on your apartment door. You slip your feet into a pair of fuzzy boots and pull the door open. Standing in front of you, in a gray long sleeve, blue jeans and a black jacket, is your date.

He has dark brown hair, gelled down to look somewhat neat. He’s clean shaven and his cheeks were reddened from the cold outside. Blue eyes meet yours and a small smile comes to his lips.

“Y/N?”

“Hi,” you smile, feeling the blood rush to your face. He’s stunning.

He offers a gloved hand. “I’m James.”

“Nice to meet you.”

You can’t help but wonder why he looks so familiar. You’ve definitely seen his face before, but at the same time, you’re certain you’d remember someone as beautiful as him.

“Should we get going?” He gestures to the door.

You nod and grab your purse and keys off the table. “After you,” you smile.

James walks next to you, clearly walking a little slower than his normal pace to make up for your smaller strides. One of his hands sits in his pocket while the other one swings at his side. You try not to swing your hand so that you don't accidentally touch his.

“So I was thinking we could get dinner at this little diner near the plaza and then go see the Christmas tree in Rockefeller center?”

“That sounds nice! I used to go see the tree all the time as a kid, but it’s been a few years since I last saw it,” you admit.

He hums in agreement. “I haven’t seen it in,” he exhales sharply, “ages.”

You smile at him as the two of you reach the lobby door of your apartment and end up in the crisp winter air. The sky is white, threatening to snow down on the bare city.

You look up at the sky. “I really hope it snows tonight.”

“Nothing better than a white Christmas.”

“Exactly, it doesn’t feel like Christmas without the snow.”

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas without friends or family either,” he mumbles, “I can’t remember how long it’s been since I spent Christmas with somebody.”

“Me too, if it wasn’t for Nat bugging me so much I’d probably be drinking eggnog alone in my apartment.”

He nudges you gently. “Well, hey, you’re stuck with me now.”

“You’re stuck with me now,” you smile at him.

The walk isn’t very far, and with James as your company, it goes by fast. By the time the two of you make it to the diner, your cheeks and hands are numb, but you also feel really connected to the man next to you.

The server sits you two at a booth by the window, and based on his friendliness with James, they know each other.

“Come here often?” You giggle.

“Just a little,” he cracks a smile.

You take off your scarf and fold it up next to you with your purse. James rests his hands on the table but makes no move to take off his gloves.

“Aren’t you getting warm?”

“A little, I guess.” He shrugs off his jacket, and looking nervous, slips off his gloves.

There’s a dog tag around his neck, tucked into his shirt. You hide your shock quite well when you notice that one of his hands was a shiny, dark metal. You don’t glance very long, but when you look up at his face, you can tell that he noticed you looking.

“It’s okay to look, y/n. I’m learning to not be ashamed of it.”

“Sorry,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously, “I shouldn’t stare. You just look...so familiar.”

He nods, but as he opens his mouth to speak, the server returns.

“Can I take your drink orders?”

You order a coffee while James orders a tea, and once he’s certain everyone is out of earshot, leans in a little closer.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, y/n. Nat’s told me about all of your nightmare dates and I really didn’t want to end up as another one…”

“Is everything alright?”

He takes a deep breath. “My full name is James Buchanen Barnes.”

You don’t hide your shock as well this time. Everything clicks into place, and though you had only ever seen pictures of him in museums when he was younger, and a few other pictures on the news a few years ago, you know that’s where you knew him from.

“So,” you nod slowly, noting how he refused to meet your eyes, “do I still call you James, or do you prefer Bucky?”

His eyes finally meet yours and you can see the stress melt away. “I prefer Bucky.”

“Then it’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

The waiter brings your drinks and takes your food orders and once again, you wait until he leaves before you say anything.

“So does Captain America really sing in the shower?”

Bucky laughs at that, his laugh so happy that it makes your heart swell up with joy.“All the time! He has a good singing voice, too, so we can’t even tell him to shut up!”

You can’t help but giggle at the thought of Captain America belting it out in the shower The sound of Bucky’s laugh on top of yours only makes you giggle more.

“You have a nice laugh,” he says.

Heat rises to your cheeks but luckily the waiter comes by with your food, and you’re saved by the bell. The two of you eat in silence, and when the bill comes, you and Bucky do the classic cheque dance. In the end, you paid for your respective meals, and made your way out of the restaurant.

“So,” he offers his hand, “Rockefeller?”

“Rockefeller!” You take his hand in yours, and based on the feel of it, it’s the metal one.

He holds your hand gently, as if he’s afraid to hurt you. Of course he is, you thought. If you knew anything about his past, it was that that same arm had been used to hurt people. You’re flattered that he would even put aside his insecurity with it for you.

After a few minutes of walking, Bucky finally speaks. “You know, if you’re not sick of me after Rockefeller, a friend of mine is having a Christmas party.”

“A friend? Like an Avengers friend?”

“A friend like Tony Stark,” he states plainly.

Your eyes shoot wide open. An Avengers Christmas party? Was that where Nat would be?

“I’d love to go with you.”

He gently squeezes your hand in acknowledgement, and in no time at all, the two of you are heading into Rockefeller center to see the looming Christmas tree. It’s bright and beautiful, and you can’t help but gawk at it. With a quick glance at Bucky, you can tell he’s doing the same.

“So, when was the last time you saw the tree?” You whisper to him.

“1937, I think.”

“That was so long ago!”

“I know,” he smiles sheepishly, “I just never felt comfortable enough in crowds before. It’s getting better, though.”

“I’m glad,” you turn to face him, your lips turning into a smile.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“No. I just think you’re very handsome.”

His face flushes instantly. “So what are you going to do about it?”

You stand on your tippy toes, wrap your hands around his neck and whisper, “is this okay?”

He wraps his arms around your waist and leans in, answering your question in the form of a kiss.

You smile into it, enjoying his warmth against yours.

He pulls away first. “So, Christmas party?”

“Christmas party.” You smile back at him.

For the first time in years, you weren’t going to spend Christmas alone.

masterlist

#bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter soldier #bucky x y/n #marvel #marvel fic #captain america #tfaws bucky

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satelliteddie · 2 years

Text

friday the 13th - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x popular fem!reader

summary: you and eddie have a standing best friends date every friday the 13th to watch your favorite horror movies. after you get asked out on a date for the same day, eddie is worried you forgot about him.

content warnings: mention of smoking/drugs, mutual pining, first kiss, jealous!eddie

word count: 2.9k

author’s notes: this was requested! so if there are any other requests please submit them, i love hearing yalls ideas – also, yes eddie graduates high school in this….it’s what he deserved….anyways….

Growing up most kids don’t enjoy horror movies, all things creepy, or even slightly scary—but not you and Eddie. Halloween was like Christmas, Mischief Night was always honored, and Friday the 13th was always a cause for celebration no matter what month it was in. This year was different, not only did your weekly movie night line up with Friday the 13th, but it was also the day summer officially started. This year was finally both you and Eddie’s graduation from Hawkins High, the excitement both of you felt to get out of there was palpable. Being slightly younger than Eddie, you always found yourself trying to outdo him with the horror movies you suggested, pranks you pull, or just anything to make him think highly of you. Which is ridiculous, since Eddie is convinced you hung not only the moon, but the stars too. Eddie had fallen completely head over heels for you years ago when you first became friends. Yet, you lived completely unaware of this crush because Eddie would never voice it. He constantly got in his own head about how you could never see him that way, or how you were way too good for him. Eddie truly didn’t know what to do with all of these mushy feelings he had crammed inside himself; however, he knew if he told you it wouldn’t be the end of the world….but he just couldn’t take the risk. This movie night would be as close as he would get to telling you how he really feels, he was sure of it. He has everything planned out to the last tiny detail. Which brought him into Family Video a couple days early, just to be sure that he would have his hands on the perfect movie for your date. Eddie pulls The Shining off of the messy shelves and fidgets with it until he reaches the counter. “Weekly movie night?” Robin asks with her eyebrows raised. Eddie nods while digging around for loose cash in his pockets, tossing the quarters at Robin. Eddie had picked this movie knowing how much you loved it and how it was the movie he was watching when he realized how in love with you he was. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, snuggled close to Eddie’s side. His heart was pounding out of his chest as he looked down at you. The movie was an afterthought to how you looked in his room, in his bed, pressed to him. It was different from how you normally fell asleep, which was common after your movie dates; you would typically curl yourself into the couch or bed, an arm or leg tossed over Eddie, but never like this. You had your head comfortably on his stomach, an arm wrapped around his waist, and your legs crossed with his. The longer you slept, the more tangled you became with Eddie’s limbs, but he wouldn’t dare to move or wake you up. He just took the time to run his fingers through your hair admiring every feature of yours that he couldn’t while you were awake. He felt like he could count every eyelash and not get bored looking at you. It killed him to only be able to look at you like this while you were asleep. “Eddie?” Robin asks, pulling him back to reality. Eddie shakes his head and apologizes to his friend while taking the movie off the counter. “You realize you have to tell her eventually, right?” She smiles gently at Eddie hoping he won’t shut her out.

“What if,” Eddie hesitates while breaking eye contact with Robin. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I end up being a total love sick fool? It’s such a cliche. Shit,” Eddie slaps the tape case in his hands.

“You have to return that!” Robin interrupts his tantrum, snatching the movie from his hands.

“Shit, seriously Buckley. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I’m just stuck like this forever?” Eddie asks, trying his best to keep an even tone. Robin shrugs and chews her bottom lip, she tries her best not to be sarcastic in her response to him, “you never know if you don’t try, right?” Robin offers the movie tape back as an olive branch. Eddie sighs, taking the tape from Robin before leaving the store.

-✩-

The bell rings throughout the hallways of Hawkins High as cheers erupt from all the students inside. It’s officially summer. Eddie is propped up against the wall as you pull all of your photos, books, gum, and miscellaneous things from your locker. “Y’know, I’m gonna miss this,” you frown as you take the final book from the locker and shut it. Eddie smirks at you, tilting his head down. “School? You’re going to miss school?” He asks with a grin, “I definitely won’t! Good riddens Hawkins!” He yells through cupped hands that act like a megaphone. You swat at his hands while laughing and calling his name. “So, tomorrow–” Eddie starts, but is quickly cut off by someone calling your name. You turn away from him looking down the hall as a basketball player jogs towards you. His letterman jacket has the name Andy embroidered on it and even though he’s barely said anything Eddie has already concluded he hates Andy.

“Hey Andy,” you smile politely at him while tugging your backpack strap close to your shoulder.

“Hey gorgeous,” Andy starts and Eddie audibly gags. You flip your best friend off behind your back where Andy can’t see it. It earns a chuckle from Eddie, but Andy presses on. “So I was wondering if you were free tomorrow? I was hoping we could get something to eat and hang out,” Andy asks with a genuine smile. Eddie is convinced his heart stops as he waits for your answer. This is it, I waited too long. He thinks, his brown eyes looking away from your conversation. It’s too painful for him to watch someone else take you. Of course he would ask her out, who wouldn’t? Except for me because I’m an idiot. A goddamn idiot. His thoughts are all consuming and are so loud that he nearly misses your answer.

“Oh Andy, I’m sorry I can't,” you frown at him. Eddie releases a relieved sigh, finally bringing his eyes back to you. “I would love to, really,” you say trying to comfort Andy. “I just have so much going on with graduation, parties, y’know all those fun activities. I don’t think I can.” Andy smiles and says something about catching up with you later, but Eddie could not care less about what actual words come out of Andy’s mouth. A smile creeps onto Eddie’s face as he watches a defeated Andy walk away, “that was the nicest rejection I’ve ever seen. Good job.” Eddie kicks off the locker he had been leaning on. The two of you continue down the hallways towards the exit, following all the other students out of the building.

“It’s not technically a rejection if it’s true, I do have plans tomorrow,” you smile at him. You push open the school doors and take in the sunlight and warmth of summer. “Oh?” Eddie responds, all of the hope in his body slowly fading. “You didn’t say you had plans. Who are you– what are you– when–” Eddie stumbles over his words as you cast a quick smile at him.

“God, you always have so many questions.” You shove his arm, stopping at the passenger side of his van, “Do I have to tell you everything?”

Yes. Eddie wants to yell at you. Yes, please tell me everything. Please just talk to me about everything, anything, nothing. Just talk to me forever. “Eds,” you step towards him. “I’m only kidding. C’mon let's go home.” You open the van door and hop inside, leaving Eddie outside in the parking lot. She forgot our movie date. He shakes his head, moving around to the driver’s side. Shit.

-✩-

Smoke circles up above Eddie as he lays on his bed, pinching a blunt between his fingers. The Shining tape sits in his bag, hurting his heart too much to even take it out or return it. When Wayne opened Eddie’s bedroom door before he left for work, Eddie was too consumed with his own thoughts to talk to him. He’s not even sure how long he’s been laying on his bed when he hears a rapid knock at the front door. Eddie groans and he rolls over to cover his head with a pillow. The knocking continues, but Eddie continues to be his stubborn self refusing to open the door. Thankfully the knocking stops as Eddie lets his eyes grow heavier, his high taking over. Suddenly his bedroom window slams open, “Eddie, what the hell!” You yell from the outside of the trailer, “let me in!” Eddie sits up so fast he nearly falls over. His legs thankfully have a mind of their own as they carry him to the front door. Eddie is convinced his high is creating you, there’s no way you’re actually here. He opens the door, blinking rapidly trying to clear his mind. “You- but you said you had plans?” Eddie says, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, I do have plans…with you.” You reply completely confused. “It’s Friday, and Friday the 13th no less. It’s our movie date. Unless you didn’t want to, I can go—”

“No,” Eddie grabs your wrist bringing you inside. “No,” he stresses. “I want you here, I- I thought you forgot.” His eyes scan over every detail of your face. Eddie’s brain turns to mush as he continues to look at you, his high continues to cloud his judgment as his feelings for you come to the forefront. “You’re stunning, you know that right?”

“Eddie,” you giggle, pulling him by the hand to his room. “You’re so high, let’s go watch a movie.”

“I’m serious,” Eddie insists. You step into Eddie’s room with him shortly behind you. You scan around Eddie’s room looking for a movie to play.

“Sure you are, now what movie did you rent?” You dig through his messy room, piles of clothes and books trying to find a tape. “Ah,” you finally see the edge of the movie inside Eddie’s open bag. You reach inside and snatch the movie out. Your heart flutters as you see that The Shining is the movie Eddie had rented. Your mind wanders back to the first time you had watched it with Eddie. Life had been beyond stressful at the time; your family, school, friends and everything in the world seemed to be pushing you over the edge…but not Eddie. Never Eddie. He was your safe space, your escape from reality. Those planned movie nights every Friday kept you going. The entire week you had been counting down the hours until it was just the two of you in his trailer with a gory movie and junk food. By the time Friday came, you were so exhausted from barely sleeping and the stress of life itself you practically collapsed once you made it to Eddie’s. You tried to stay awake to watch the movie with him, but your eyes were so heavy and your mind was so busy that the calm you felt with Eddie was so inviting. You felt so safe with him it was impossible to stay awake and stay off of him. You found yourself inching close and closer to Eddie, letting your exhaustion consume you. You loved Eddie, more than anyone, but you didn’t know if he would ever feel the same. He was your best friend, your life, your everything. You couldn’t ruin that…so you just let yourself sneak moments. Moments like the one where you first watched The Shining. Letting your sleep-deprived mind take over, allowing your guard to fall so you could cuddle with Eddie. You blink harshly at the movie tape, clearing your throat as you stand from the floor. There’s no way he remembers. You look back at Eddie as he still stands by the bedroom door. Your eyes lock for a moment before he drags himself towards his bed. Eddie collapses back on his pillows, laying his arm out inviting you in. “C’mere,” Eddie calls to you. You place the tape on his bedside table, laying down next to him with your head in the crook of his arm. “I’m in love with you,” Eddie mumbles with his eyes shut.

You turn your head to look at him, completely baffled. “What did you just say?” You ask him, but he doesn't respond. “Eddie,” you sit up on your forearms to look down at him. “Eddie!” You nudge him in the shoulder, but he just groans. You lay back down with a sigh deciding to let him be. He’s so high. Right? That’s all, he’s high. You think, chewing the inside of your cheek. You turn over onto your side, letting your eyes trail over his profile. His hair is fanned out over his pillows, dark eyelashes flush to the tops of his cheeks, his nose slopes perfectly, his lips plush and kissable as he sleeps. He’s beautiful. Your chest aches as you stare at your best friend. You find yourself growing tired as you continue to admire him, but you let sleep take you.

-✩-

“Sweetheart,” your shoulders shake as Eddie looks over at you. He calls out your name trying to gently wake you. You slowly open your eyes to find comforting brown eyes looking back at you. “Hi,” Eddie says with a smile, his voice deepened by his nap.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, slowly moving off of Eddie's arm.

“We didn’t watch our movie,” Eddie smirks, playing with the ends of your hair.

“We have all night, I’m not going anywhere.” You mutter, your cheeks heating as Eddie shifts next to you. “Eddie,” you turn to face him. Eddie turns on his side too, his face showing every single one of his nerves. “Do you remember when we first watched The Shining?” Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nods. “I was so exhausted that day and so drained from my life that I finally felt relieved and safe when I was with you. You make me feel safe all the time.” You don’t hesitate to reach towards him and run your hands over his jawline. Eddie’s nervous features flinch slightly as he watches your movements. He’s never felt such raw affection before he doesn’t know what to do. I have to be dreaming. He thinks; he’s convinced there’s no way you’re here, let alone touching him this way. So gently and so lovingly. “Eddie,” you rub your thumbs over his cheeks. “I don’t know if you were just high when you said it, but you said you love me. Is that true?” His eyes flutter shut, his mouth opens as he takes a deep breath in. “It’s okay if you don’t love me in that way,” you gently urge him to talk to you. “But if you do, I need you to say it. Please.”

“Sweetheart,” he starts with his eyes still shut. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you.” Eddie opens his eyes to meet yours. “I just,” he reaches up to touch your hand that still rests on his face. “I- I didn’t know how you felt. I couldn’t risk losing you.” Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, kissing each of your knuckles. “So yes, I’m in love with you.”

Your face cracks into a contagious smile, your heart aching with finally hearing the words from him. He loves me. “Eddie,” you take your hand back from his, running it over his cheek, cupping the side of his neck. You brush your thumb slowly over his jawline. “I love you, too.” Eddie wastes no time as he rolls over, caging you under his arms. His eyes flick to your mouth momentarily before you nod. Eddie leans down, capturing your lips with his; he carefully leans even further down onto you without crushing you as he deepens the kiss. His mouth moves in sync with yours, so much love and anticipation built up on both sides. You can’t help but smile in the kiss, stopping him for just a moment. His eyes open, pupils blown and filled with so many emotions. Eddie’s mouth continues to litter your face with kisses, slowly moving down your neck. “Eddie,” you giggle, throwing your hands into his hair. “What about the movie?” You ask, playing coy. He pulls away from your neck, hovering over you again. “Screw the movie,” Eddie grins wickedly. “We have better plans.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

something about a love confession... its gonna do it for me every time! thank you to the lovely user who requested this xoxoxo -meg

✭ masterlist ✭ requests

#eddie munson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #request #requested

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yuurei20 · 11 months

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Cater Info Compilation part 9: Malleus

While Cater is aware that Malleus is seen as terrifying by most people, he never seems intimidated.

He approaches Malleus during a PE class to ask for permission to post a picture to Magicam, but in doing so tells him that he has a “vibe” that is “kinda otherworldly, which makes it hard to know what you’re thinking. I guess ‘terrifying’ is the word?”

Malleus appears unamused and Cater tries to lighten the mood with “Do you even show up in pictures? …JK”.

He does apologize for the joke, but Malleus assures him with “As if such a jest could anger me”.

Cater makes a third comment of “You’re just such the mystery boi all the time” and Malleus gives him permission for a photo only to intentionally move too quickly for a proper shot.

Malleus taunts Cater with, “Perhaps because I am an otherworldly ‘mystery boi’, whose thoughts are inscrutable and hence terrifying, I do not show up in pictures at all?" and “go on and take as many photographs as you like. If you can, that is.”

After scaring off a group of students from the monster team who were ganging up on Malleus during Beanfest Cater tries again to take a picture of him, but Malleus disappears.

Disappearing mid-conversation with Cater is not unusual for Malleus: after hearing that Deuce may be able to repair a beloved treasure he received from Lilia, Malleus teleports before Cater has a chance to caution him against scaring the first-year students.

The two share very friendly interactions during the Firelit Sky event. Cater compliments Malleus with “It’s neat seeing you in something other than black…you look FANTASTIC. It’s not your usual vibe, but you can totally rock bright colors!”

Malleus responds, “Bright colors suit you quite well. You look so colorful and eye-catching, much like fireworks.” (With Trey “standing awkwardly” in the background).

Malleus compliments Cater's appearance again in a voice line for Cater’s second birthday.

Cater finally gets his photo with Malleus by suggesting they send one to Lilia to make him feel better when Malleus expresses regret that Lilia wasn’t able to join them during Firelit Sky (Lilia called out sick, sending Malleus out sans escort for the first time in his life).

When Cater suggests a second photo with the silky melon that is “supposed to make friendships last forever”, however, Malleus characteristically responds with “I’d rather not”.

Later on Cater reins in Malleus’ attempts to block the escape of a pickpocketing monkey by “building up a ton of power”, saying “if your magic hurts anyone, we’ll have an international crisis on our hands!”

Apparently well aware that his magic was going to cause physical injury, Malleus complies.

At the end of Firelit Sky Cater teaches Malleus about toasting for small celebrations (like watching a fireworks show), leading to Malleus suggesting a toast to celebrate Jamil’s upcoming performance.

During Halloween Cater was the only one who heard Malleus’ voice when the students were kidnapped, reporting that Malleus said, “How could I of all people struggle so?”

At the conclusion of the event it is revealed that Malleus was struggling with pipe organ music.

#twstcater #caterfacts #Cater Diamond #twstfacts #twisted wonderland

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starseneyes · 1 year

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Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 17

"The Enemy Within" AKA Chenford Sucks at Babysitting

I've been so caught up in life (mostly great stuff) that I almost forgot it was Chenford night! Gee wiz!

But, for those following along:

we got an amazing deal on a car

we're this close to picking a roof vendor

I have another regular client for a few months

might have one more big contract coming in

See!? Good. Just busy.

SPOILER ALERT: I like spoilers very very much. If you don't, please run away. I will spoil the entirety of the episode and the whole series that has come before that if the Meta demands it.

All squared away? Awesomesauce. Let's dive in.

"Hi. Uh, don't hate me." "What did you do?"

Tim is actually smiling when he sees her scurry up to him, versus last episode when he was scowling.

He can't even look at her as he asks his question, because they just weathered the storm of Tim Metro Jenga and now what!?

"No, you're supposed to say, 'I could never hate you.'"

Tim throws a look her way, and we all know that while Tim could never hate Lucy, that's not the point. He needs to know what she did and fast because his imagination's already running wild.

"Fine. I got mad at you a few months back after a Tim Test."

Because she hopped in a TARDIS and took a trip back in time.

Look, I know the timeline on this show can be a counter to reality, considering the first year of the show was about 3.5 years. But we know from 4x05 to 5x06 was a year because both episodes take place on Halloween.

Tim and Lucy started dating in 5x10, and it was "a few weeks" by the time we got to 5x12. So, we're at least a few months past Halloween, meaning that Tim hasn't put Lucy through a Tim Test in well over a year and a half.

Now, it's possible Lucy has no concept of time, but I'll admit the line took me out the first time I heard it because I try to keep track of the timeline for the sake of these Metas.

Is it a ridiculous thing to be bothered by? Abso-friggin-lutely. And totally attributable to Lucy's inability to keep track of time. Her pregnancy might feel like a decade and her first child's first year in a blink of an eye.

I hear that's how it goes for people who have one kid, at least. My twin pregnancy was a breeze compared to my second pregnancy with my daughter, and the twins' first year was... survival.

What matters is—Lucy was so pissed she set Tim up.

"Which one?" "Oh, weird, I honestly don't remember. But, so, that's not important." "What did you do?"

Tim's mouth is open the whole time she's talking, just waiting for her to give him a straight answer. He knows this is bad with how much she's stammering and starting over.

"I signed you up to be a Make a Dream mentor and then I totally forgot about it. I'm sorry." "For when?" "Today."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up to the sky and his hand automatically rises in protest. Lucy's hands rise to meet them, and his falls away.

It's a part of their dance. Yes, this sounds like I'm high. No, I'm not high (and never have been in my life). I'm connecting dots over here! ... Which also makes it sound like I'm high.

Have you ever noticed how Tim and Lucy shift based on the other, sometimes? When they're outside the plane in 5x01 and they're holding onto one another, there's a sway to their movements. They do it, again, in 5x12 right before Lucy disrobes her honey so she can eat him up. *ahem*

Tim and Lucy have a feel for each other. For the space the other occupies. There are times when occupying the same space is a very good thing, of course. But there are other times where they simply shift to make room for the other.

It's such a sweet, subtle thing that is more than likely good blocking and/or actor instinct. But it makes for such a beautiful visual of give-and-take with Chenford. It's mesmerizing.

"It's a good thing... lifting up a sick kid who's having a really hard time. What could you possibly be doing with your day that would be more important than that?

Lucy grabs onto his arm and he spins back to face her. Most of the time, it's small, open-handed touches from Lucy when they're at work. But this time she full-on handles her future husband to get his attention.

"Nice job boxing me in" "Thank you."

Tim's mad-impressed with his woman. If he wasn't so pissed, he might suggest they slip into a closet Wopez style for a quickie.

Lucy gives Tim the most adorable little bow, like a performer appreciating the applause.

"Where are you going?" I gotta go out on patrol." "You are me are gonna be entertaining our Make a Dream kid together."

Because if I have a kid, that means you have a kid. Like, it's already a foregone conclusion for these two.

Remember, Lucy knows that Tim wants kids, and thought he'd have some by now. Tim knows Lucy wants kids because she talked at length with him about her ovaries (even when he didn't want her to).

They're on the same page. Someday (not right now) there are gonna be little Chenford babies running around.

But right now, let's see if these two can handle one kid for a day.

"What else could you possibly do with your day that's more important?" "Yeah, right. I should have seen that coming."

You really should have. And while I'm curious about the logistics of this, considering he's not her supervisor, anymore, so he can't decide what she does with her day, I'm totally willing to suspend disbelief and have some fun.

Chenford + Kid? This'll be fun!

"This is my son Jordy. Say hi." "Hi. I hear you wanna be a cop." "Yeah." "Okay, well, you're gonna be hanging out with us today." "So, I just pick him up at 3?" "We'll take good care of him."

Tim has a smile for the kid when Jordy arrives, but it's not his "stop kissing my girlfriend you asshat" face he usually reserves for Chris. This is that smile he often reserves for kids—welcoming and sincere, yet still subtle. You can see it on his face with the Little League team earlier this season.

Also, I'm very curious about how this system works. I know I'm that weird Mom who wants to watch her kids' dance and Ninja classes, but I've signed waivers with those places, too. So, did Lucy forge Tim's signature on a waiver of some kind? That would be an interesting fanfic!

Also, the use of "we" and "us" still gets me. You'd think I'd be bored of it considering they've been knocking boots a while, now, but inclusive language makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

This is what happens when someone with two communications degrees writes a Meta. I'm so, so sorry.

"So, I'm thinking Processing. Wanna take your fingerprints? Get a mugshot taken?

Tim is so cute with kids! He's really trying to give this kid a fun day, even though this is not how he planned to spend his day.

Lucy's little dance in this scene had me rolling, too. We're so getting a sneak-peek at these two as parents. Spoiler Alert... they've got some work to put in. Thank God the first year is (as Bradley Whitford said in one of my favorite shows) "an on-ramp".

"Okay. Give me your meanest face." "Now look miserable."

Is it weird that Tim reminds me of my dad in this scene? Doesn't help that it's hilarious, and my Dad's an ex-standup comic. Yes, I mean it. Never feed that man a straight line.

But this kid does look miserable. Poor thing looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than at a police station.

"This doesn't exactly feel like making dreams come true." "He looks like he hates us."

Because he does. He hates your guts. It's finally happened... someone hates Chenford.

And, I know in reality there's always someone who hates something. I hate mushrooms. My husband loves them. It does nothing to the mushroom's opinion of life that I don't want to eat it while Matthew does.

But the fact that this kid's literally mean-mugging Chenford had me rolling.

Also, Tim has his arm up on the counter before Lucy approaches. When she does, his arm moves out of the way so her arm can rest there. It's their dance—always making space for one another.

THEY LOST THE KID.

I wrote this over here, then glanced at Twitter and briefly wondered if we were going to have this as a trending topic because... oh my gosh, two cops just lost a kid.

And, look, kids can be sneaky. When my Eldest was 3, he decided to play Hide and Seek at 10PM and forgot to tell us.

We searched the entire house and were about to call 911 (even though he couldn't yet unlock the doors and they were all deadbolted shut) when I finally called out that we were going to throw away toys if he didn't come out.

He was standing on the sill of our bay window with the curtains almost flat against him because he was so tiny. I sobbed, hugged him, and told him that he couldn't play hide and seek without telling us first.

My kid didn't even mean to be sneaky. This kid clearly does.

"We didn't lose him. We misplaced him."

He's not a ballpoint pen, Timothy. You lost a person.

"How can you be so calm? What if this was your kid?"

The kid is inside a police station with lots of good people to watch out for him. Believe me, it could be worse.

"You know what, if we ever lose our kids, I'm gonna need you to take this a lot more seriously." "Hold up, our kids would know better than to pull a stunt like this."

Y'all expecting or something!?

And, no, this is not a question you should ever, ever ask anyone in real life no matter what.

I can't tell you how many times people asked, "Why aren't you pregnant, yet?" and I wanted to scream, "Because I don't ovulate, have a tilted sacrum, have endometriosis, and a preferential tube... but thanks for reminding me of the failed procedures, tests, and attempts at pregnancy. Really appreciate it."

But, since Tim and Lucy are fictional... I'm wondering if we're being set up for a surprise pregnancy.

Like, I think Lucy would definitely want to make her mark, first, with UC before purposefully conceiving. But, my mother knew a couple who twice got pregnant through three kinds of birth control used simultaneously. It can happen.

No matter what's coming down the line show-wise, I love how casually they are talking about it. This isn't a maybe for them, but an actuality. They truly believe that they will be parents together. And I believe it, too!

Tim remarks that they're doing well so far, and I wonder if something was cut for time. Maybe not, but it twinkles at my brain that I feel like I'm missing something.

Maybe that's just the fact I haven't had dinner, yet. Definitely missing some calories today! And Tim and Lucy are definitely missing their first kid together (second if we count Tamara).

"I found this kid wandering around and he said he belongs to you."

Their first time at a water park, this is so gonna happen. I can't tell you how many times I was on set, separated from my mother, and a random person would take one look at me and say, "Your mother's over there."

"He kept asking me what my childhood pet's name was."

This sounds like a scam. Like, remember the early days of the internet when we all did a/s/l? And then it evolved into these elaborate quizzes to post that were really data-mining schemes? Yeah... good times.

This kid's a walking BuzzFeed quiz. Beware, Aaron. Don't hit "submit"!

"What kinda kid doesn't like dogs?" "Tim."

I love her exasperation, here, but I also kinda want to write a love letter to Melissa O'Neil on all the different ways she says, "Tim" in this one episode.

I'll never forget this one actor on a movie my mother keyed who asked me to run lines with him. There was this short line he had me say over and over and over, again.

He was trying to get me to understand the many different ways you can say a line and how that can change its meaning. Kid-Rachel didn't quite get it, but adult Rachel looks back on that moment with fondness.

Melissa O'Neil really personifies that lesson in this episode. Here, Lucy's exasperated. Later, shocked and chastising. Later, still, enamored. It's one bloody word, "Tim", and yet her performance brings it to life in different ways every time. Beautiful.

THEY LOST THE KID, AGAIN

While I've been waxing poetic, Chenford's lost the damn kid, again!

"This is ridiculous."

Watching Tim and Lucy walking down the hall aghast and worried... Yup, this is totally their future. Tim's going to air-tag their kid to keep them from wandering off after this little experience.

Tim On One Knee

I know I wasn't the only Chenford-ian experiencing flash-forwards on that one. Also, the last time we saw Tim on his knees by the Shop he was looking for diamonds (also with Lucy). And now it's a kid.

Yes, this is reaching. Like, this is reaching past your cousin Burt to dip your latke in the applesauce reaching. But, come on, it's right there. I didn't even have to work for that parallel!

"I really hope you're enjoying your revenge for that Tim Test." "I'm really not. Come on."

And light-hearted as this adventure is, it's kinda perfect that Lucy's choice in "revenge" was something that would be helpful to someone else.

In an ideal situation, this kid would want to be here. And annoyed as Tim would be to lose his day, he would actually enjoy helping a kid. Because, Tim likes kids.

Lucy likes to screw with Tim. Not make his life (and hers, by extension, now) hell.

"If someone I worked for tried to put me in a wood chipper, I'd flip on them." "If someone you worked for tried to put you in a wood chipper, they'd be in the wood chipper."

I freakin love Angela. I know that this is a Chenford meta, but Nyla saying that was so badass and so true. My #3 is a fighter.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Ooooh, Tim broke out a curse word in front of a child. And, yeah, the kid broke into a secure police system, so it was warranted.

"Okay, do you even have cancer?" "Tim." "That part's true."

Look, it's out of line, but I totally get it. Tim doesn't trust people to begin with. He believes it has to be earned, but he cut this kid a break at the onset. Now, he realizes this kid played him and he's pissed.

But Lucy was right to call Tim out with a gentle admonishment using only his name because Melissa O'Neil if a rockstar who can convey all that with a single syllable.

"Okay, but you lied about wanting to be a cop." "Of course. Cops are whack."

The way I was rolling during that part. The way Tim and Lucy immediately look to one another? Priceless.

Also, Tim was kinda right. The kid does hate them.

"He said if I could figure out a way to get rid of his tickets, he'd buy me an ebike."

Asshole Dad. Poor kid. Like, yes, this kid is old enough to know the difference between right and wrong.

But so was Tim when he covered for his father's affair. These are children whose decisions are being influenced and informed by the adults around them.

"You are a criminal, Mr. Yates. And you made your son one, too."

I can't even imagine how hard this is. Because Jordy is a child, and he's already facing all the elements of childhood cancer. Adding charges on top of it?

And we all know that Tim won't charge the kid. But his dad's a different story. Tim has a problem with parents who hurt their children—be it physical or emotional.

"I can't go to jail. My family needs me."

This wordless communication is my favorite part of the entire episode.

At the beginning of their story, Tim and Lucy spoke completely different languages. Let's say Tim was barking in Latin and Lucy's finessed in French. There's enough root words to comprehend, but not truly understand one another.

Over time, they've learned one another's languages to the point that they don't even need words anymore. Tim has softened where Lucy has become more crisp and refined.

Lucy's look to Tim is a plea. There's so much to what this man is saying. Yes, he's clearly broken the law with all those parking passes, and then persuading his sick son to try to get rid of them.

But losing his license and car creates an added burden on this already-hurting family. This man is desperate. Dumb, yes. But desperate.

"His medical costs are killing us" struck me hard. On paper, my family looks good financially, right? But then there's the medical costs. Mine. My kids'. I'm on so many payment plans trying to stay on top of it.

So, an innocent bill might seem like nothing, but when paychecks are inconsistent and things break down one. after. the. other... it leaves us exposed. Matthew got a speeding ticket last month, and if not for his "taking no time off this month" bonus from the school, it wouldn't have been covered.

So, I get the fear and desperation. I'm just not as dumb as this guy.

Meeting her eyes, Tim's eyebrows shoot up. "Are you kidding me?" they say. In one look, he knows what she wants.

Look. How. Far. We've. Come.

It used to be that he was oblivious... then he would ask others how Lucy was. Then, he knew enough to ask her himself. He knew in a glance that something was on her mind, but didn't know what.

Now he knows what's on her mind. He knows exactly what she's thinking. At first he doesn't believe it. But he knows it.

He looks away, trying to decide how he's going to handle it. Then, he looks back to Lucy to confirm. She looks away, thinking she's pushed too hard, accepting whatever Tim decides.

Watch. Her. Listening when Tim tells Dumbass Dad he's not going to jail. Her eyes shift back up to him, grateful. Not only did her message get through, but Tim listened and took action.

They've come so far in their communication. But, Tim's also come far as a man.

He's always been a good cop. But he missed the human element, sometimes. He was afraid of it. Showing compassion made things worse, in his eyes.

And I'm not saying that we should just give every criminal a clean slate for no reason. But Tim made the compassionate choice, and I can only hope the Dumbass Dad makes the most of it.

"You're going to Daddy and Me Traffic school."

Can this really exist? Because it sounds a helluva lot more fun than the traffic school I had to go to back in the day. Yes, Rachel has a lead foot.

I got my first ticket on Thanksgiving when I was at university. My parents showed up to court to support me, and when the Judge noted them reacting to the cop's account, he called them out. They waved. He smiled. I got a reduced ticket.

So, the lesson of the story is that you can go fast and be okay if your parents are good enough actors.

"How can I make it up to you?" "Be a better father to your son."

Strong words from a man who will someday be an incredible father in spite of the monster who raised him, leaving him without example of what that looks like.

But Tim knows what a good father should be. Despite never having one himself, he knows. And while he'll make his own mistakes, he won't pass on the trauma to his children. He'll create an entirely new legacy of love. With Lucy's help, of course.

"Daddy and Me Traffic school sounds fun."

Whose desk Is this? Is this Lucy's desk? Is he doing paperwork out here because he doesn't want to go back to his office?

I'm sure there's a logistical reason why this scene happened where it did (maybe Tim's office can't fit three people... it is the size of a closet). But, when I fist saw him sitting there, I was confused for a second.

"It was a really nice gesture, Tim."

One word. Three letters. She's giving us a masterclass, folks. Rewatch it. You'll see.

"I wanted to throw that guy in jail for putting his son in that position." "But?" "You're a good influence."

Hell, yeah, she is. Lucy has helped Tim see pieces of himself that needed refining, but also the best of who he is. Part of what I love about this relationship is that even in the seasons when he was her superior officer, she matched him as an instructor.

They taught one another the whole way—Tim teaching Lucy to be a little more wary of the world, and Lucy teaching Tim to be a little more open. They're at their best when they meet in the middle.

"You're gonna make a really great dad one of these days."

Anyone else melt into a puddle? Or just me? I only recently re-congealed so I could write this thing.

There's such adoration in Lucy's eyes, because she's not just saying this to a coworker. She's saying this to the love of her life. Picturing him with their children, she's falling in love with him a little bit more.

And while I'm not in a rush for Chenford babies... I love that they're talking about it. That they are expecting it. That it's a part of the life they are building together.

Both of them were previously in relationships with no real future. No fulfilling one, anyway. This is the relationship neither knew they needed, but that's the proverbial Cinderella's glass slipper—a perfect fit.

"I'm gonna have to. You keep losing our kids everywhere you go." "Come on. Stop it!"

What did I just listen to!? Y'all are really tryin' to take me out with this one! But, seriously, much like the "gave me the will to live" line from 5x10, Tim is saying this strictly for Lucy's reaction.

It reminds me so much of my own relationship I could scream. Matthew and I constantly do that to one another. Mostly me, though. It's mostly on me. His reactions are so perfect!

I'm also getting major Double Date energy with the delivery of "Come on. Stop It." when we were all blessed with the Tale of Gerald the Goat. It's all in the delivery, and I love it.

Almost as much as I love Tim's real smile with teeth at Lucy's reaction. That smile is for her, and it's amazing.

Didn't expect to wrap this one so early, but loveyby went to bed early after getting our Littlest finally to bed.

I really am loving the journey Tim and Lucy are on. Were they the comic relief this episode? Yes. It's an ensemble show, and sometimes that's their role.

Am I trying to rush a pregnancy? No way. I know I called out the possibility of a surprise pregnancy in this Meta, but that's in no way scripture, here. It's simply a possibility.

But I do think these two are in a lovely place. And I'm so grateful neither has been dramatically killed off, yet. It's kinda nice to have a living, breathing ship! I'll try not to get used to it... just in case.

Side Note: Bristow earned her keep, so maybe it's a good thing Lopez didn't "get that woman out of [her] house". Made me chuckle when I watched thinking about it!

Thank you so much for reading! We have a bit of a hiatus, but we'll make it through together! One breath at a time.

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #The Rookie #Meta #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Halloween idea anon here :) The first idea was Eddie and the reader doing the typical Halloween pranks (egging and TPing) on someone’s house and when they have to make a run for it to not get caught, when the light catches on their face, Eddie just thinks “yeah, I’m going to marry this girl one day”. The second idea was trick or treating with hellfire (because I cannot see Eddie ever outgrowing that and now they have freshmen in the club) and seeing the reader dressed as Galadriel or Arwen with the group she’s chaperoning and cutting each house visit short (much to the ire of Dustin) because he can’t let “the girl of (his) dreams” get away before he has a chance to talk to her after trying to work up the nerve all night. Sorry if neither of those are good ideas but thank you for letting me send them over!

Eddie falls head-over-heels for a fairy, but needs a little help talking to her.

Warnings: a little bit of language

WC: 990

A/N: This takes place in October 1986. Eddie & Steve are friends but obviously Eddie survived the Upside Down. Also, the LotR movies didn't come out till the early 2000s, so I decided to go with a D&D fairy costume! I hope that's all right!

Eddie Munson may be 20 years old, but he's not going to pass up the opportunity to go trick-or-treating. Dressing up in a sick costume and getting free candy? Sounds like a great time.

And now, he has a good excuse, since Dustin recruited him to drive the Hellfire Club (plus Steve) to the wealthier part of town. The kid had a whole plan mapped out based on the houses that gave the best candy in previous years. How could Eddie turn the poor guy down?

He’s dressed as a zombie rockstar, which consisted of an old concert t-shirt that he’d ripped holes in, ripped jeans, and some fake blood smeared across his face. He’d briefly considered bringing along Sweetheart, but didn’t want to risk any damage.

“How are we always the goddamn babysitters?” Steve grumbles now, but Eddie knows he loves being adored by the kids.

Before he can respond to Steve, something catches his eye a few houses down. A girl, about his age, standing behind two young kids, wearing a pair of fairy wings. But not just any fairy wings: she’s dressed as a fairy from Dungeons & Dragons.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes out. “Harrington, I think I’m in love.”

Steve meets his friend’s gaze, trying to keep an eye on the gaggle of children they’re somehow responsible for. “Oh, she’s cute.” He laughs at Eddie’s lovesick stare. “Go talk to her, Romeo.”

“W-what do I even say?” Eddie sputters, hands getting clammy. He clumsily wipes them on his pants.

Steve laughs, amused by Eddie’s nervous demeanor. “Why don’t you start with, ‘I like your costume’?” he says. “And, uh, try not to look like a total moron.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie grumbles, turning to Mike, Lucas, Erica, and Dustin, who are waiting on line to get full-size chocolate bars. “Little sheep, let’s go! Put a move on it!” he yells out, waving them back.

“We didn’t even get our candy yet!” Erica laments. “I am not leaving until I have a giant KitKat in my stash, got it?”

Eddie huffs as he walks over. “There are a million other houses we can hit up,” Like the one where the girl of my dreams is standing, he thinks. “Come on!”

“Seriously, dude,” Dustin says, “what’s your deal?”

“Eddie's got a big ol’ crush on that fairy princess over there,” Steve teases, pointing in your direction.

“Don’t point at her, Harrington!” Eddie hisses, burying his head in his hands. “Forget it. Get your stupid candy.”

But the group has already snapped into wingman mode.

“Eddie,” Dustin crosses his arms over his chest, “how many girls do you know are into D&D?”

“Um, Little Sinclair pretty much starts and ends that list.”

“Exactly!” Lucas exclaims. “So there’s a beautiful girl fifty feet away from you, who not only knows what it is, but likes it enough to dress as a character from it. And you’re gonna let her slip away?”

“No, but--” Eddie starts before Mike cuts him off.

“But what? You have no excuse; we’re not toddlers. And Steve can stay with us while you get her number.”

“Save my spot, or else,” Erica orders the boys, and they know to heed her warning. “C’mon, Munson. Let’s hurry this up so I don’t miss out on any candy.”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie stammers as Erica grabs him by the wrist and pulls him over to you.

“Hi!” she says to you, giant grin plastered on her face. “I just wanted to tell you that I love your costume! Is this your D&D character?”

You clasp your hands together excitedly. “Yes!” you reply. “Finally, someone knows where this costume is from. You don’t know how many people have called me Tinkerbell tonight.”

“Actually,” Erica says coyly, pulling Eddie in front of her, “this long-haired freak was the one who noticed.”

“H-hi,” Eddie bites the inside of his lip, cringing at how nervous he sounds. “I’m Eddie. Her, uh, baby-sitter.”

“Chaperone,” Erica corrects him.

“Right, Chaperone.” He softly kicks his foot into the grass. “I’m also Hellfire Club’s Dungeon Master.”

“You play, too?” Your eyes light up, taking him in. “Well, duh, of course you do, if you’re the Dungeon Master. I’m Y/N, by the way.” Pink creeps into your cheeks, and Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Plus, it makes him feel better about being anxious.

“Yeah. We started at Hawkins High, but when I graduated earlier this year, we just kept up the tradition outside of school,” he explains sheepishly. “Maybe you could join us sometime?”

He feels a kick to the back of his ankle before you can respond. “Ow!” he cries out, turning to Erica.

“That’s not a date, nerd,” she loudly whispers. “I am not missing out on rich people candy for you to half-ass this!”

Eddie hears you giggle and swerves back to rectify the situation. “Or, uh, we could go to that new café that opened downtown? I hear they have kick-ass food.”

You nod. “That would be great!” A small hand tugs on the hem of your green dress. “I have to get going,” you apologize, wishing you could talk to him all night. “I promised the kids I baby-sit that I’d take them trick-or-treating until our feet fall off.”

“No worries. It’s like the Cool Baby-Sitters’ Code,” he jokes, conversation flowing more naturally now. “Could I maybe get your number? So I can, y’know, call you?”

“Of course!” You reach into your purse and pull out a pen. When you realize you don’t have any paper, you grab his arm and write your phone number on it.

“I’ll call you,” he promises as you walk away and wave.

Erica stares up at him, clearly pleased with the situation.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, clapping a hand on her back. “You’re a better wingman than any of those guys.”

“Yeah, well,” she replies with a shrug. “I call dibs on bridesmaid.”

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