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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

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Say Goodbye Part III (Chris Sturniolo)

part one, part two

a/n: so ig im just letting this story go where it wants to, idk how many part it will be but lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist

contains: fluff, angst, breakup emotions, cussing, childhood friends to lovers to exes?, mentions of kissing, use of y/n (i couldn't avoid it anymore <\3), friendship issues, 1.1k words

There’s a tree in my backyard that’s witnessed almost every big moment Chris and I have ever shared. There used to be a treehouse in it, built one summer before I was born, where I first fell in love. It was just wide enough for our ten-year-old selves to lie head to head, our shoulders just barely kissing, as we listened to music on my first phone.

The treehouse was where, at thirteen, he first leaned in to kiss me, egged on by a dare from our friends. It was where I stopped him and whispered low that I wanted my first kiss to be real and he just stared at me nodding patiently like he understood.

Then, after my dad had torn down the treehouse and replaced it with a hammock bed, this tree is where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Where we lay together, watching the stars through the branches, until he got the courage to make that first kiss real after all.

But it’s also where I sat to make the call that ended us a year ago. Where my mom found me the next morning after I had spent the night crying so hard there was nothing left to do but sleep.

So I guess it’s fitting that I’m laying under this tree, swinging gently with the wind, when Chris finally makes his promised call. I take a deep breath, wondering if this is a step forward or backward before I answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, baby.”

**********

I pull my phone away from my face to check the time, my eyes widening when I see how late it is. We’re two hours into this conversation about everything and absolutely nothing, and it’s getting cold out here. But somehow, going inside and away from this spot feels too much like breaking a spell so I’ve stayed put.

Chris finishes up telling me about some of the craziest fan interactions he's had and I pretend I haven't heard them all on his channels. Pretending to forget all the nights when the distance between us hurt too bad to ignore, and I'd turn on their podcast listening to them argue to chase the ache away. I shake off the memory and sigh, picking at the frays of the hammock.

“What was your favorite tour stop?” I ask. stifling a yawn and pushing off the ground to make the hammock sway.

“Umm…” He starts, and I can hear movement on his end like he’s pacing his room. “Is it cheating to say Boston? It was just a crazy moment to be on a stage in our hometown.”

I smile to myself at the wanderlust in his voice.

“I bet. I wish I could have-” I cut myself off remembering our situation and bite my lip. “I mean, I’m glad you guys got to have that, Chris. I’m sure it was amazing.”

“You could have come, you know.” He says quietly after a beat.

“Chris.”

“No. I know. It’s just…For some reason, I really thought you would. I had this vision of the show ending and I would find you waiting backstage. I played it over and over again in my head. How I’d get the chance to make it right.” He laughs, the sound a little bitter. “Man, it took a lot out of me not to call you that night. Took everything I had.”

“Don’t do this.” I sigh, closing my eyes to fight off the emotions he’s stirring up.

“I don’t know how not to do this.” He admits breathlessly. “I don’t know what it’s like to not want you.”

Neither of us says anything for a few moments letting his declaration hang in the air before I clear my throat.

“We’ve tried this before-” I begin but Chris interjects.

“If at first you don’t succeed-”

“Nothing has changed between us!” I cut in, my tone stern. “It will be exactly the same.”

“You’re wrong. Everything has changed. I know what it’s like to live without you now.”

God. I sit up and stare at my phone, trying to keep my heart from running away from my head. I want to get my car and drive to where he can hold me. But what if all roads to my first love lead me right back to this heartbreak?

“We can’t just go back to how we were before,” I say sadly, shaking my head to clear out the fantasies.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to move forward.” He insists.

I scrunch my face up in thought. “Friends?”

He laughs like I’ve said something hilarious, “Not a chance in hell.”

“Chris, I can’t-”

“We get on a plane back to LA in four weeks. Give me until then. Four weeks to make you fall back in love with me. And if not, I’ll walk away. I’ll call you my friend. I’ll do whatever you want. Just give me a month.”

I take a deep breath and give in, making a small noise of agreement. Chris makes a goofy celebration noise and I smile despite myself before we finally end the call.

What the hell did I just do to myself? I run a hand over my face in disbelief as I wonder how the hell he could ever think I fell out of love with him in the first place.

**********

I wake up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking and almost float down the stairs to the kitchen. My mom only ever cooks on special occasions so I’m confused until I turn the corner and find all three of the triplets around our island.

“Uhhh… good morning.” I sputter out, reaching a hand up to smooth down my hair. Chris and Nick smile over at me but Matt won’t meet my eye.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” My mom says, smiling as she slips past me in the doorway. “See you tonight.” She tosses a grin back at the boys and they call out their goodbyes. Nick stands from the stool and comes over to me, wrapping me up in a hug that I melt into immediately.

“We missed you, Y/N.” He says when we pull away, making tears spring to my eyes.

“I missed you guys more,” I say earnestly.

Matt scoffs and stands up, grabbing his keys and pushing past us. “I’ll wait in the car.”

I flinch as the door slams and Nick shrugs apologetically.

“Yeah, about him…” He trails off and Chris picks it up for him.

“I wasn’t the only one you left in the rearview, Y/N. Maybe you should go talk to him.”

I swallow hard knowing they are right. Because before there was me and Chris, there was Matt.

Matt who sat next to me in kindergarten and shared his crayons. Matt who pulled his sleeping cot closer to mine when I was scared at naptime. Matt who was my very first best friend. Our friendship plays on repeat in my mind as I walk out to their car, wondering what I say after a year of silence. A year of ignoring my best friend for a fight that was never his at all.

I hear Kid Cudi playing as I approach his window and bite back a smile at how much nothing ever changes. I knock softly against Matt’s window and he cuts his eyes to me, annoyance evident.

“What do you want?”

part 4

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris

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theostrophywife · 1 year

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Can you do for 6,13,16 plzzzz 😩 I’m begging 🙏 🥺

obsession.

a/n: more of az because we're all horny on main for him. warning: smut under the cut.

Azriel loved staking his claim on you.

You often teased him about his possessiveness, but any playful remark you might've had in your arsenal died in your throat as he pressed you against the glass inside one of the private rooms at Rita's. The window was a two-way mirror, which meant that you could see everything happening within the pleasure hall while you and Azriel remained hidden to the crowd beyond.

The back of your head fell slack against the glass as Azriel fists the hem of your scarlet dress in his hands, using the fabric to coax you down onto his length as he watches his cock disappear into your pretty little pussy. You've really gotten him worked up tonight in this tight, form fitting dress that hugged every curve of your body. The fabric showed off your generous cleavage at just the right amount and Azriel hasn't been able to think about anything but burying his face in your tits since the minute you walked into the pleasure hall.

The shadowsinger wasn't the only one who'd noticed and he clocked the attention that your dress garnered throughout the night. He couldn't blame them. Azriel didn't have a problem with males staring at you as long as they kept their hands to themselves. You were his mate—his to ravish, devour, worship and that's exactly what he was doing now.

"Only I get to touch you like this," Azriel declares, cupping your ass as he fucked you from behind. Your hands braced against the glass, barely containing your moans from the sheer pleasure that your mate was eliciting out of you.

There was something so depraved about having sex with your mate while a crowd of unsuspecting patrons danced and drank on the other side of the glass, but you loved every second of it. The possibility of getting caught made this so much hotter.

"You're getting off on this, aren't you bunny?" Azriel says with a dark chuckle. "Tell me angel, does it turn you on to know that I couldn't even fucking wait until we got home to bury myself in your sweet cunt? That the sight of you in this dress aroused me so much that I dragged you in here for a taste, not giving a single damn that our friends are just on the other side of the wall?"

He wrapped his hand around your throat, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear while he kept thrusting in and out of you. "I don't fucking care," you managed to choke out. "We could be out on that dance floor and I'd still beg you to fuck me."

Azriel's hips stuttered behind you as he cursed. "Fuck baby, you're a godsdamned dream." He tilted your chin up towards him before parting your lips with his tongue. "I'm so fucking obsessed with you, bunny."

"I am too. You're perfect, Az. Gods, I love you."

The shadoswinger groaned, shifting you over to the table as he kissed the back of your neck. "I love you too, angel."

You murmured in appreciation, bracing your hands against the rickety table. It squeaked underneath your combined weight and you giggled as Azriel struggled to hold onto the wood to keep it from making such loud noises. His forearms came down to your sides and kept you in place, making sure to support you as he hoists you up.

"For your safety, I'll be gentle," he states with a cheeky grin. "But just know that I don't plan on holding back when we get home. I'll give it to you hard and rough, just like my bunny likes it."

"Have I mentioned how much I love you?" you teased as Azriel smirked. He flipped you on your back, caging you in with his forearms as he thrust at a steady pace.

"Once or twice," he says with a grin, shielding the top of your head from hitting the glass.

Azriel's hips rutted against yours, his cock driving deep within your walls and hitting that sweet spot that had you moaning his name. Your mate clamped a hand down over your mouth, silencing the vocal praise falling from your lips as he pulled out and slammed back in again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, tears streaking down your cheeks as your nails raked across Azriel's back. He groaned, loving the mixture of pain and pleasure.

There was nothing he loved more in this world than pleasing his mate. Azriel considered himself lucky to have found his match in you. He never expected a partner who had a sex drive that rivaled his own, but whether you were having sweet or kinky sex, neither of you seemed to get enough of one another. The shadowsinger knew your body like his own, knew which buttons to press to make you sing, knew when to give and take to make the experience that much better for you and you fucking loved him for it.

"Oh gods, Az—"

Azriel flicked his thumb over your clit and kissed you, smiling all the while as he swallowed your moans. "You're so cute when I make a mess of you, bunny."

#azriel calling you bunny what a concept #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel/reader

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seokmthw · 8 months

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a little jealousy | kim jiwoong

⇢ pairing: jiwoong x reader

⇢ warnings: angst, insecure!reader, a smidge of fluff at the end

⇢ word count: 1.1k

prompt #27 "so why are you avoiding me?"

⇢ note: i have been in an awful jiwoong brainrot lately and saw this request in my inbox, so i knew i had to do it. i know one of the more recent-ish things i've posted was for jiwoong, but i just couldn't help myself lol. enjoy!

god, were you stupid?

this was the nth time you’d gotten jealous over one of jiwoong’s co-stars, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. you knew it was part of his job to kiss her, you knew it was part of a script, but you couldn’t help but read into this time. the way he was a little more touchy feely with her for your taste was enough to send your mind reeling, causing you to overanalyze every single little interaction they had, because what if your gut feeling was right? she was absolutely stunning and could easily score someone like jiwoong.

your head was spinning; were you not good enough? was he starting to fall out of love with you? did you need to do something else to make his feelings for you reignite? to say that you were feeling a little insecure was an understatement. you felt silly even considering something so absurd, yet here you were, fully prepared for him to dump you within the next couple of days so he could be with her instead.

you tried your best not to let it get to you, really you did. but going home with him that night felt different, almost as if he wasn’t enjoying your presence all that much. maybe it was because his face slightly fell when he came off set to be excitedly greeted by you, or how he didn’t rest his hand on your thigh the entire drive home like he always did. somehow, you managed to keep yourself together, but the moment he declared he wanted to retire to bed early and didn’t shower with you, something snapped, and you were sliding down the back of the bathroom door choking on your sobs so he didn’t hear you.

instead of immediately crawling into bed with him after your shower, you decided to pad out onto your balcony, plopping down onto one of the plush chair cushions as the crisp air of the night sent a shiver racing down your spine since your hair was still damp. you fixed your gaze on the glittering stars in the sky, a single tear slipping down your face as you thought back to the night’s events. your shoulders slumped, and you curled your legs up into your body as you wiped at the tears that were not flowing freely.

you didn’t hear the glass door gently sliding open and had no idea that jiwoong had come to see where you were, worried you’d left the apartment without informing him at all, until he made his presence known by quietly saying, “y/n?”

you sniffled softly, wiping the rest of your tears before finally glancing up at him, “hm?”

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“oh, so now you want to ask that?” you scoffed, “took you long enough to even notice something was wrong.”

jiwoong’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, the confusion on his face hard to miss as he was finally able to muster up his sentence, “what are you talking about? i noticed something was up the moment i was done filming today.”

“so why have been avoiding me?” you challenged, your voice firm, “you know, since apparently you’ve known something was wrong this whole time?”

“i just figured you wanted some space, is all. i decided to come out here now so i could talk with you and see what was bothering you,” he attempted to explain, but you just shook your head at him, “y/n, i really don’t understand what’s going o-”

“do you have feelings for her?” you cut him off.

jiwoong blinked at you, trying his hardest to register what you just said, “what?”

you rose to your feet now, starting to pace within your little bubble. you knew this was probably going overboard, but you just needed to know so you could prepare your heart for whatever was to come in the future, “do you have feelings for your co-star?”

“absolutely not,” was his immediate answer. you felt relieve wash over you for a moment, only for it to be replaced with panic the moment jiwoong opened his mouth again, his brows furrowed and a look of betrayal evident on his face, “i’m hurt that you would even so much as accuse me of such a thing. i have been nothing but good to you.”

“jiwoong, i need you to understand it from my point of view, please,” you begged, taking a couple of steps toward him, hands outstretched in a futile attempt to grab his, “you were just so handsy with her, and then afterward when i felt like you were avoiding me, it just put a little bit pf doubt in my mind.”

he yanked his hands from your grasp, the frustration with you fully settling in by now, especially as he barked, “it’s called acting, y/n! maybe you should give it a try sometime, yeah?”

tears burned at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. it was rare for jiwoong to ever raise his voice at you, so you honestly never knew how to handle it when it did occur. it took a lot for him to get angry enough to resort to something like this, so you were feeling awful about yourself. your voice cracked as you answered him, “you don’t have to be so aggressive.”

“i’m being aggressive? you’re the one who barely said a word to me when we left the set. you’re the one who accused me of having feelings for someone i barely speak to when you know damn well that i love you. do you know how badly that hurts?” it was jiwoong’s turn to shed a few tears, his posture rigid and any attempt you made to touch him being rejected almost immediately. guilt flooded your entire body as you processed his words.

he was right, and you knew it.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling yourself relax at the way his eyes softened upon hearing your words, “i really am. i was just feeling a little insecure and i shouldn’t have assumed something more was going on.”

“oh baby, come here,” he stretched his arms out, allowing you to fully melt into him as he secured his arms around your shoulders and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. he sighed, “i’m sorry, too. i shouldn’t have gotten so into my own head and i should have listened to you instead.”

the two of you stood like that for a while, the chill of the air unable to be felt because of the warmth radiating off of jiwoong. the delicate chirps of the crickets and the distant calls of the owls was the only thing able to be heard other than his heartbeat, and you felt more content now than you did earlier.

you knew as long as you had jiwoong, everything would be okay.

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shannaraisles · 2 months

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Still Yours - for @50sjello

For @50sjello, who has been incredibly patient - this has been sitting in my finished folder for almost a month, due to various of my own issues, but finally, here it is! Thank you so much, lovely!

Still Yours

The mood in the camp was ... awkward this morning, to say the least. It isn’t every night you wake up flooded with physical ecstasy, only to discover it isn’t actually yours, and you’re feeling it secondhand from the nominal leader of your group as they couple with a mindflayer in their shared dreamscape. Sylvana was fairly sure none of the party was ever going to look at them the same way again.

“Well, that was quite the wet dream we all shared last night, wasn’t it?” Astarion declared in a surprisingly innocent display of avuncular good humour. “I do hope it doesn’t become a regular thing. I prefer my intimacies ... intimate.”

The look that flickered in the direction of a certain purple tent spoke volumes of both judgement and unexpected concern, underscored by the faintest hint of a smirking smile as Karlach took up the theme.

“Gods, I never want to look at another octopus ever again,” she said, shuddering as her flames intensified for a moment. “That was ... no. Nope, I am not thinking about it.”

“It was a very stimulating evening,” Shadowheart interjected, straightening from her morning stretch. “Who would have thought the Emperor would have such creativity when it came to such an unconventional coupling?”

Face flaming red, Sylvana focused on fastening their bedroll, trying to ignore the spirited debate now being undertaken by three members of their party, all of whom were dying in equally creative ways in the secret, hidden pathways of their mind. A prickle of fur brushed their calf, drawing their attention to the sharp eyes of a tressym standing entirely too close for comfort. Nothing can judge you for decisions made in the heat of the moment quite like a feline with a bone to pick.

“Good night, was it?” Tara asked, and Sylvana only just suppressed the flinch at the ice in the tressym’s tone.

The young rogue steeled themselves, setting down the bedroll to turn and face the closest thing to a mother Gale of Waterdeep had handy. Tara’s yellow eyes were hard in the morning stillness, more than a little resentment stirring within the magical feline for the harm done to her young Mr Dekarios in the night. Sylvana swallowed, taking a moment to clear their thoughts and their throat before addressing the acid remark.

“I know I have made a terrible mistake,” they informed Tara. “I know it’s worse because everyone is aware of it. But the shockwaves of that mistake are between myself and Gale, and while I appreciate that you love him and want only to protect him, he is a grown man and we should be able to discuss this like adults, without others inserting themselves into our dynamic.”

The tressym considered them for an excruciating moment, that sharpness in that gaze almost enough to draw blood. Then she ruffled her feathers, her tail rippling from straight to just slightly curved.

“Then I suggest you begin this adult discussion of yours,” she said primly. “Mr Dekarios is a great man, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he is a teenaged nightmare with all the social skills of an erotically charged goblin. Good luck to you.”

Even as Sylvana raised their brows at this rather brutal description of the man they loved, the two of them heard a choked objection abruptly cut off from within the tent. Ah. Well, that made sense of Tara’s comment on his emotional maturity in this matter. Apparently hiding in his tent and listening to everyone else was Gale’s idea of dealing with this. Sylvana could not entirely blame him. He must have decided he was being set aside yet again by the beloved of his heart, something he had still not truly come to terms with when it came to Mystra.

With Tara flicking her tail and heading toward the campfire to ply her wiles on Wyll for breakfast, Sylvana straightened their shoulders and ducked through the thick purple fabric. Their eyes found Gale near instantly, stumbling back from the curtain they had just stepped through as though he had not expected them to make their entrance so soon after speaking with Tara. His eyes were red, betraying tears he would no doubt be horrified to know were so easily discerned in his weary face; his gaze pinned to Sylvana’s face with wide-eyed trepidation.

Yet before Sylvana could so much as open their mouth, he held up a hand to still any words that might be said.

“If this is to be the end of us, then land the blade sharply, I beg you,” he said, each word ringing with a certainty that could only have come from practice since he had woken. “No excuses, no softening of the blow. Tell me, once and for all, if this truly is the end of the love I have come to trust so wholly since we met.”

Sylvana narrowed their eyes slightly at these last words, not particularly liking the attempt at emotional manipulation but understanding that, as Tara said, he was emotionally an angsty teenager still.

“It’s the last thing I want, Gale,” they said, voice trembling just a little now they were faced with the consequences of their curious interlude the night before. “But if we are to continue, we need to talk about what happened last night.”

“You chose to betray my trust with a mindflayer,” he snapped. “In a way that broadcast my humiliation to the entire camp, to these people who have become our - my - friends. People who know my history have seen me cast aside a second time, for what? For sport?” His gaze hardened as he stared at her, brows furrowing in pain. “Tell me it meant nothing.”

“I can’t do that.”

The answer was honest. And in all honesty, they could not blame him for the faint cry of misery that left his lips, the way his knees seemed to buckle and toss him down upon the makeshift bed he had not yet packed away. Sylvana forced themselves to step closer, to crouch, to kneel at his side, not daring to offer a touch in consolation. They only had words, but it was a language that this man certainly understood.

“Let me tell you why,” they said, each word soft but firm in the pain-filled silence of the tent. “And when I am done, if you still wish nothing more to do with me, then I will accept that. I have wronged you, but not with malicious intent.”

Knees drawn to his chest, hands clasped and twisting anxiously together, Gale drew in a staggered breath, seeming to force away fresh tears as he nodded. Whatever else happened now, he needed to know. Taking the invitation, Sylvana twisted themselves to sit beside him on the padded bedroll, staring at the star-filled constellation of Mystra they had never once asked him to remove from his sleeping place.

“I don’t know everything about you,” they began, careful to keep their tone light, conversational. No blame or implication of guilt; nothing to provoke an emotional reaction from him. “I don’t know every fleeting thought that pulses through your mind; every impulse you restrain, every judgement you make on those we pass by or interact with. I only see what you choose to show me, and I love every part of that man, even the parts you are perhaps ashamed of.”

They felt him shudder beside them, felt the unspoken acknowledgement that no mortal truly knew another in the way they were describing. Felt the realisation of where this was going even before they continued to explain.

“The Emperor knows everything about me,” they told him. “All of it. Not just what I choose to show, but everything I intentionally hide. Every unkind thought, every urge toward pain and destruction, everything that I know would sour the affection of the people I love toward me ... it knows all of it. Can you truly blame me for doing as I did, at a moment when I felt seen in a way no one has ever seen me before? For just those few moments, I could finally understand why you remain so devoted, so loyal, so tender toward Mystra. She knows you, the way he knows me. And yes, perhaps I wanted to even the score in that regard. Perhaps I knew it would hurt you, the way it hurts me each time you say her name with such fondness. The way it hurts to have to see her celestial face each time I come to you in privacy. But am I so unforgivable?”

There was a long silence, still wracked with pain but now peppered with understanding, the words he loved and needed so much guiding him down the path to truly understanding the why of what had gone before.

“It felt ... clinical, to me,” he said finally, his tone calm, almost detached. “I could feel your curiosity, your physical pleasure. Where was your heart, Sylvana?”

“In your hands. Always.”

They felt him suck in a breath, a sudden change in the turmoil radiating from him softening to their words as this commitment was made. A moment later, his fingers found theirs, hesitant but warm, daring to cross the divide between them.

“Had it been me in your place,” he said, each word tremulous but firm, “I do not think I could have gone through with it. Not that the temptation would not have been great, but ... I have been set aside by those I adore too often to willingly do it to another. To you.”

For the first time since waking, Sylvana felt the shard of pain they had been holding at bay slice deep. They knew this, of course they did. Some things could not be retracted or forgotten. But perhaps they could be forgiven?

Gale’s fingers tightened about theirs, drawing their palm to rest over his heart.

“My heart is yours,” he said, whispering painfully into the stillness. “Still yours. Always yours.”

Sylvana tilted their head toward him, finally finding his eyes on them with the by now familiar adoration back where it had always been. An adoration that was now just a touch guarded, but still there.

“Can we come back from this?” they asked, eyes burning with the urge for tears they did not feel they had earned the right to shed. “Can you forgive me my weakness?”

His brow pressed to theirs, and they shuddered together, each one fighting back those tears, knowing that such a display here and now would do neither of them any good. Hands gripped hands, breath mingled in staggering gusts, both wizard and rogue breathing together to eradicate the harsh reality of their painful morning.

“If you can forgive me for mine,” Gale said finally, lifting his eyes to theirs. “I have held onto the memory of her affection when I should have given you all of my focus. I swear this to you, my beloved heart, I will let her go. And when the time comes that the Emperor has no further need of us, I will stand by your side as you let him go.”

The relief was palpable - audible, even, as they heard Astarion suddenly declare that the fun he had been expecting wasn’t even going to start now. Sylvana let out a rueful laugh, joined by a wry chuckle from Gale as they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms, squeezing close to chase away the last of the uncertainty the morning had wrought.

“As long as you are mine, I could face anything at your side,” Gale murmured, at last pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“I’m yours,” was their answer, heartfelt and unshakeable. “I’m still yours.”

#50sjello #fanfiction #niamh does commissions #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #oc - sylvana #gale x sylvana #angst #hurt/comfort #sfw #emotions #tara the tressym #astarion #karlach #shadowheart #group dynamics #the morning after the night before

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amplifyme · 2 months

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Sandor in the tub...

"Sansa," he calls out a few minutes later. "Come here, girl." Before long she is poking her head around the edge of the screen, eyes politely averted – a courtesy he finds amusing, considering the circumstances. "Have you ever shaved a man?"

"No," she tells him. "I've seen it done but have never attempted it."

"More's the pity," he grumbles, "I've no wish to be your first and end up bloodied for want of a shave. Can you trim a beard, at least?" She agrees to meet his eye and nods. "Pull up that stool, then, and do what you can."

She is soon perched at the side of the tub and wielding scissors. He lifts his arms from the water and drapes them over the tub's edge and she freezes. "Your arm. What's happened to it?"

He lifts and studies it, the scars still pink with new some two years after the fact. "It's a burn," he tells her, though he thinks it should be obvious.

She clucks her tongue. "I can see that. But how did it happen? It's not from Gregor."

"No. This was a gift from a lightning lord and his bloody god of fire." Seeing the question on her face, he shrugs it off. "A story for another time, bird."

She gets to work with the scissors, thumbing his chin to turn his face toward her as she combs through his beard with her fingers and snips at it, casting appraising eyes at her handiwork. Meanwhile he watches her, and their gazes lock for brief moments before she'll look away again. Finally she sets the scissors aside and folds her hands in her lap.

He scrubs his hand over his cheek and jaw. She's trimmed it short and close to his face. "How do I look?"

She moistens her lips. "Like a Northman."

"Half of one, anyway. Not much to be done for the other side."

She looks at him for a long time then, and he has the sense that she is collecting herself to do something. His hunch proves true when her eyes begin wandering across his arms and shoulders and then to his chest, exposed above the dingy water. He is not a vain man by any measure, but he knows he's strong and that his body is not unpleasant to look upon, despite the horror of his face. And so he accepts her silent consideration and waits for whatever may come.

Soon she is peering up at him, declaring, "You're quite hairy."

He shouts in laughter and then breaks into a verse of The Bear and the Maiden Fair, and she laughs along with him and joins her voice with his for the last few lines.

I called for a knight!

But you're a bear!

A bear! A bear,

All black and brown,

And covered in hair!

Their laughter fades and she goes back to her study, but this time hesitantly reaching to lay her hand on his unburnt arm. "You have so many scars," she whispers, tracing the closest and most notable with a fingertip. "So many. Do you remember where they all came from?"

"No. I stopped keeping count a long time ago."

"I remember every one of mine. I used to worry so, when I was young and would fall and scrape my knee or accidentally cut my finger. I didn't want to have scars. I thought they were ugly and no true lady would have them. But then I left Winterfell and found myself in a place that scarred me far more deeply than any blade might. Those are the ones that can't be seen. You have them too."

She dips a cupped hand in the water, brings it to his shoulder and empties it there. Her hand follows the water down, smoothing over the flat pad of muscle that covers his breast and then draws it back up. She fingers the scars along his chest, leaning in to follow one that begins above his heart and trails off beneath his arm and down his ribs.

He shivers at her touch, light enough that it is both tickle and caress, and follows the graceful line of her arm to the open neck of her gown. He watches the rhythmic pulse of blood beneath the skin and his memories of his small tastes of her flood his mind and begin racing through his veins. He can feel himself growing hard, a perfect and primal dichotomy to the softness of her hand against his skin.

"I have other scars too, now," she is murmuring as she pets him. "There are those on my thighs and back, no more than welts really, from Joffrey's games." He flinches, blinking hard, but she does not seem to notice, lost in her own thoughts. She looks sad and yet wears a faint smile as she talks, and he knows what it is to feel both emotions at once. "And more I've gained along the way. They are not ugly, as I had once thought; they are simply reminders of where we have been and what we have endured. And some of them," she reaches and cups his face with both hands, "some of them can even become beautiful, to eyes that know how to look."

A dozen things spring to his mind to say to her but only one comes out, ragged and low. "Why are you crying, little bird?"

These Scars We Wear - Chapter 19

#sandor clegane #sansa stark #sansan #fanfic #these scars we wear #asoiaf #future fic #mine

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sinlizards · 2 years

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I DECLARE MYSELF A GOD AND CUT OFF MY HEAD SO

#aitsf spoilers #ai the somnium files #aitsf #saito sejima #eye trauma #blood #fan art #my art #2022 #line is from Crisis Over by everything everything because of course its based on an ee song #undescribed

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vavuska · 1 year

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Stephanie Meyer in her“The Twilight Saga: Official Illustrated Guide” wrote that vampire pallor is part of the transformation new vampires undergo that beautifies them as their melanin drains away, resulting in their white skin.

In fact, in the first chapter, in which she describes the physical characteristics common to all vampires, Meyer wrote:

In the Twilight universe all vampires were originally human. As vampires, they retain a close physical resemblance to their human form, the only reliably noticeable differences being a universal pallor of skin, a change in eye color, and heightened beauty.

More orver the typical vampire pallor is not attribuite, as traditional thrope impose, to the fact that vampires are dead, recalling the repulsive look of a corpse, but to an element of crystalline, supernatural form of beauty, which is described as following:

The common factor of beauty among vampires is mostly due to this crystalline skin. The perfect smoothness, gloss, and even color of the skin give the illusion of a flawless face.

So, dark skinned or deeper skin toned people will have very light olive skin as vampires. In fact the only creature who keeps a natural dark-skin is Nahuel, the vampire-human hybrid (born to a white European vampire and a indigenous woman), who is described having “dark brown skin”, while his Aunt Huilen, a full-indigenous woman has “an olive tone to her pale skin” due to being a vampire. Let's see more examples in the book where this “white washing” effect of vampirism is more explicit:

Vampires in Stephanie Meyer's books are white and pure because Mormons believe people who are not white will be white in heaven. I can't 100% remember the reason or events but during some event they think God turned some people black because they either betrayed him or Jesus. So when you are a good person and go to heaven he will remove that. If you look into what Mormons believe it's almost as crazy as scientology.

Ok, apparently, Mormons think black and dark-skinned people are in some way descendants of Cain, who was banished from human community and condamned by God to a nomadic life. However, God was pleased by blood sacrifice (God favored Abel who killed animals for God, while Cain offered the products of earth he cultivated) and gives Cain a mark, known as “Mark of Cain” (Genesis 4:15). This mark of Cain is God's promise to offer Cain divine protection from premature death with the stated purpose of preventing anyone from killing him. Bible does not identify the exact nature of the mark God put on Cain. Whatever it was, it was a sign/indicator that Cain was not to be killed (but also a warn that helped others to spot him as a murder to not trust). Some propose that the mark was a scar, or some kind of tattoo (Maybe this is the source of Tattoo Prohibition in Leviticus 19:28). Whatever the case, the precise nature of the mark is not the focus of the passage. The focus is that God would not allow people to exact vengeance against Cain. Whatever the mark on Cain was, it served this purpose.

However, Brigham Young, one of the founders of Mormons and one of the earliest leader, described black people as cursed with dark skin as punishment for Cain’s murder of his brother. “Any man having one drop of the seed of Cane in him cannot hold the priesthood,” he declared in 1852. Young deemed black-white intermarriage so sinful that he suggested that a man could atone for it only by having “his head cut off” and spilling “his blood upon the ground.”

For more information about the racial question among Mormons, I suggest this article of New York Times:

#vavuskapakage #twilight #twilight saga #the twilight saga #stephanie meyer #edward cullen #the cullens #racism in twilight #Racism in novels #mormons #Mormon cult #Tw: racism #white washed #white washing #cullen coven #Egypt coven #vampire aesthetic #vampirism #twilight vampires

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babylovepresley · 1 year

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thinkin’ about you — elvis presley x reader

summary: you are elvis presley’s former lover… at least you think you are. the year is 1960, and he is finally returning home from the service… but you haven’t heard from him since the day he left memphis and got on that plane nearly two years ago. what is left of you both?

word count: 2k

content warnings: 18+ sexuality mentioned, ANGST, possibly an unhealthy relationship, references to religion and god

read & listen along: https://open.spotify.com/track/1fDFHXcykq4iw8Gg7s5hG9?si=c2I7yoRJQMOSZEIrxLHCsg

writer’s note: hiya lovebugs! this is just a little something i conjured up when i was supposed to be doing homework (hehe), and i thought perhaps you’d all like to suffer with me. it’s not my best work, as i have had quite an overwhelming day and this is the best i could produce. this is my first fic posted, and i truly hope you all enjoy! remember requests are always open, and i am forever sending you all plenty of love and light!

dedicated to: my darling friends that promote my obsession with writing angst, though it hurts them in the end <3 (@eliseinmemphis my sincerest apologies lover)

It’s a cold day in March when he comes home; his hair wispy and long, touching the tip of his forehead beneath the large issued cap. When he first went away, the cap seemed to swallow his sleepy head and make him seem like the boy I first met all those years ago— when life was kind and he smiled with his tongue between his teeth. A patron moves to turn the television up, standing on the counter and nearly knocking over a young man’s grits that sat untouched on his plate. The soldier huffs and puffs as the camera follows him; his lean figure cutting through the tv and leaving an ache in me heart. Did the scars from our childhood playing wear off? Did the inside of his left pinky still glow red and raw from the movement of his ring? Does he still think of me?

He swallows, and my own throat constricts watching him. Life had become so difficult after he left— the beginning of us did not matter, I only wanted to get through to the end. And now we’re here, or rather he is. All I can do is stand and watch in our hometown diner, as he glows for the entire world. My coworker comes up beside me, placing her tray down on the crowded counter and side eyeing me.

“Yes Minny?”

“Sugar, I hate to do this… ‘specially today of all days… but—“ always walking on eggshells, Minny was. In fact, I’ve noticed that every other waitress today has been side-eyeing me with pity; wondering what I must have done to him to be here instead of greeting him with open arms, perpetually on my knees for him. The truth is I never did anything to him… and I guess that’s why he never found it important to write to me.

“You need me to close… don’t you?” I smile. I didn’t have it in me to be cruel right now, though I wanted to scream and cry can’t you see I’m busy lamenting a man I don’t know anymore?

“I’m sorry y/n, it’s just that my daughter wanted to stop by the Graceland gates tonight to.. well.. you know…” she trails off, itching an imaginary scratch behind her neck. It isn’t her fault that her daughter looks at him the same way I did, or still do. It’s been a long time since I’ve laid my eyes on him, and I wonder if they still fill with the warmth and affection I once saw him have for me.

“It’s okay Min, I don’t mind at all! I’ll probably just make a cup of tea for myself and clean the jukebox tonight… have a feeling I finally wanna clear out a certain someone’s records….” I giggle, though I’m laced with a bitter agony in my throat; I never wanted to hear his voice again, but I know one sound falling from his pouty lips would cause me to stare in adoration and declare my god, where have you been?

I turn my head back to the television, because I simply cannot bear not looking at him… not after three years of staring out the window and praying to God that he’d somehow be sitting outside my door, waiting for me all the while. He has changed so much; poised and gifted with the confidence that can only affect a young boy who dreamt of the strength and masculinity he exudes. He left me a scared boy, with heavy shoulders that I ached to massage into a restful stature, and came home a man; broad and unashamed. I simply can’t wrap my head around it as the camera pans to his face, spotted with the cold sting of snowflakes as he nods his head in thanks. It’s ridiculous.. I feel jealous of a force of nature simply because they get to live and die on him; when I have faced far more triumphs and little deaths as a result of his person.

Still, he looks afraid as he shuffles through the crowd of women waiting to grab at him. I feel nauseous just looking at it, and I find myself tugging at my uniform in an attempt to deflect from the obvious want situated in each woman's eyes. Many years ago, I would’ve moved through the sweaty crowd gathered by the gates of that airport, and used my handkerchief to wipe the nervous sweat on his eyebrow; my hands ever-so delicate on his cold cheeks. And he’d look up at me and smile, the apples of his cheeks pressing his eyes into a squint; “you miss me lil?”

But now I stand here, as unknown to the world as the words he said to me the first night he pulled me by bare chest to his and mouthed a sonnet only he could tell. Memphis has changed, he has changed, but I haven’t. Maybe that’s why he didn’t write. Maybe that’s why I’m living in the in between; Elvis’ girl or not? Lover or former flame?

The hours pass by with the creaking stools signaling the end and beginning of each meal, my nails making a dull clack against the cracking counter. Before I knew it, the street lights flickered to life, and my coworkers' cars pulled out of the lot, blowing kisses out their windows in a silly “goodnight!” gesture. The diner is lonely without the murmuring of the town, but I find it to be deeply comforting while I clean. The TV has been turned off, and the jukebox unplugged, leaving me with nothing but my pitiful thoughts and slight hiccups as I cry and clean the corner booth.

In the midst of my cry, for him, for me, for his Mother, and for any semblance of a future I had once dreamt of, I failed to notice the front door being pulled open and the slight ting of the bell. The wind from outside climbed my bare legs as I wiped, shouting out a quick “We’re closed honey, I’m sorry!”. Why look up when I always know who it’ll be— whether it be a neighbor, the town drunk or a church choir member.

“Oh… ‘m.. ‘m sorry” the stranger stumbles out, and I can physically feel the soft tapping of his loafers on the sticky linoleum floor. I’d know that voice in death, when the grim reaper kisses me goodnight, I’d be begging him “please.. let me hear his breath one last time”.

With all of my strength I turn to him, staring down my old hero. My spray bottle has long been abandoned, spilling on the floor beneath me and wetting the tips of my white shoe. I couldn’t care less. Nothing could’ve stopped me from following his voice— nothing could have prepared my heart for the sight of him in front of me. I feel the ache of my brows pulling down on my face, and the cold air drifts through my parted lips to remind me that this is real… he’s here. After all this time, he’s here. I’m silent as I watch him distribute his weight; left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

“Ya see me on TV today lil?” His thick voice cuts through the air; still gravelly from the cold morning air he sucked in earlier that day. A part of me wanted to coddle him; coo “oh poor baby” for the pain in his throat. But the other part of me wanted to laugh in his face at the incredulous question. In the end, that’s just what I did.

“Did I- Did I see you on TV Elvis?” I barely manage to get out, as my throat begins to constrict with sobs. Bastard. At least we both are in pain from the words we can’t say, I think to myself.

“W-well I noticed the TV ain’t on.. so I thought I’d ask…”

“You thought you’d ask me if the TV was off because you wanted me to watch you come home today?”

“Baby I know it ain’t been that long,” he chuckles, his hands digging deep into the pocket of his black slacks. I once sewed a hole he tore in those slacks, and I remember the way he kissed my cheek in thanks— I still feel the burn of his lips. “know my girl hasn’t gone all dumb on me”.

My girl. As if he had any right to call me that anymore. My anger bubbles to the surface, as the chemicals I dropped sting my nose. We stand polar opposites of one another. On one end of the diner, we have a lowly waitress who dreamt of a family and a small life but now spends her days covered in bacon grease for the creepy men in town to ogle at. On the other end, with hair still blown back from the influx of winter wind coming through the corner window, stands a god amongst men. He has the world in his hands, and it dawns on me that he could have any family or anyone’s life that he could ever want— small or large it wouldn’t matter, it’s all small to his strong flesh.

Unchanged in my agonizing swirl, I threaten, though no matter how hard I try I could never be crossed with him in tone, “You don’t get to call me that no more Elvis”.

He shuffles uncomfortably, and his lips curl inward with a tremble. He has taken an interest in the floor, and I wonder if he remembers the time he stayed here until 4 am with me scrubbing them down. He looks at the tiles just as intently as he did then, though now it seems like he feels just as dirty as them.

“I ain’t… I m-meant to write you y/n honest—“

“Oh you MEANT to write me, huh?”

“Yes! Yes I-I-I did I just got caught up ‘s all…”

“Caught up?”

‘Yes Lil! Caught up!” he extends his arms out to his sides; desperate for a positive response.

I can’t hold back the building sobs anymore, it hurts too much— makes me want to reach my arms out to him like a child and cry for help. I’ve bared my soul to him in far too many ways, and he deserves to see the mess he’s made of me.

“For two years E?” the tears sting my cheeks, as I hiccup in a breath.

For a moment, I see him take a step toward me. Ever the holder, Elvis always showed love through his touch. There would be nights I’d wake up sobbing and afraid at the idea of never getting to feel the velvety touch of his fingertips in or against me ever again. Those nights still haunt me, and the idea of him touching me is almost too much. No man has touched me since him, and I’ll never want anyone else to ever again. I move from his reach, and walk beside him with a wipe of my nose as he panics.

“B-Baby I tried! T- The Colonel”

“The colonel,” I stop in my tracks and smile spitefully with a small shake of my head “It’s always the Colonel E, isn’t it?”

“Oh c’mon y/n whas’ that supposed to mean?'' he follows behind me as I stomp past him and behind the counter, desperately grabbing at anything to appear unaffected; but he knows me. Elvis knows me more intimately than I know myself, and I’ve come to resent him for it. I can’t bear his cluelessness, and I can’t live with all of this hurt inside of me for any longer.

“ELVIS! He has taken EVERYTHING FROM YOU. Money, your Mother, your life, me! You’ll just let him take and take and take,” I throw the bulk of napkins across the counter and into his chest in anger, though I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt him. Strange how he seemed fine all the while I was dying for a single word from him. “until there’s nothing left of you— of us!”

I move around the counter, and it feels as if I don’t keep moving I’ll collapse in a heap of tears. My finger jabs into his chest, and he flinches with the intrusion. For the first time tonight, I see tears forming in his eyes, yet his stained cheeks indicate they have been falling for a long time as he struggles to inhale from his own pitiful, silent sobs.

“One word from you Elvis, that’s all I wanted.” I sob, barely coherent as I lay my hands on his chest. He grabs them, and the shift in my stomach nearly makes me lurch in pain. I feel him now, so real and warm and so mine. I could never forget his touch, and now that I have it again I doubt I’ll be able to breathe without it. We cry quietly for a moment, holding one another as if we were foreign to each other; like he hasn’t consumed by body and soul whole and left it to rot in his chest.

It’s silent save for his uneven breathing and the gentle scuff of my feet; unable to stay still as my body betrays itself. I pull away, and he mumbles a “no, no honey stay” as I wipe my eyes and regain my strength. He paws at my apron, trying to pluck me closer before I scold him for his mistakes.

“Elvis, please just go. I-I’ve lived without you, I’ve cried each time I saw your house, or-or heard your records. I’ve grieved you before you were even gone, and I know I can do it again. So please baby, please just go” I whimper out, smoothing down my skirt and pinching my thighs beneath the frilly mess. I can’t look at him, though my eyes thirsted for the pinch of his brow for so long.

There are very few women who can say Elvis Presley laid himself in front of her and wept. I’ve seen him cry before, in fear and anger, and each time I have taken him into my arms and quelled him into relief. But nothing could prepare me for the sight laid out before me.

My man, a god, falls to his knees in front of me and cries with outstretched palms, “Do ya think I’ve forgotten ‘bout you?”

His eyes appear to burn as they flutter closed with a gulp, his large hands gripping onto the bottom of my skirt, “Oh God baby, ‘ve messed up somethin’ awful, I know.” he cries out, wiping his nose with his sleeve like a boy. A chuckle builds in my chest at the antic, as it reminds me of the boy I’ve cried for all along. He licks his lips, panicking at the thought of rejection. “ ‘ve always tried to be so good for ya and look what I’ve done now… look what your satnin’s done now…” He chokes out, ever the fallen angel.

His arms wrap around me, and I stumble forward with the force of his pull. It’s no use in fighting, I think to myself, I can never purge myself from the feeling he gives me. I don’t think I’ll ever want to— I can never shed the feel of him. The feel of Elvis; an irrevocable heartbreak. My upper body falls on top of him, my breasts pressed against his strong shoulder as my hands slide flat down his back; the wool of his jacket slightly burning my wrists. I feel his cries against my hips, as his arms lock around the backs of my legs; hands clasped in fear that I’ll soon pull away. His shoulders shake as I lean over him, and chills run down my flesh as his thumbs soothe the backs of my thighs.

Against my skirt he wails, “Kiss me. Please God, kiss my sins away. ‘ve done so bad by you baby— let me know I ain’t the devil incarnate..” his nails dig into the thickness of my thighs in desperation.

Who am I to deny him?

#elvis in my eyes <3 #elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis headcanons #elvis fanfiction #austin elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley angst #elvis x reader angst #elvis fanfic

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idkyetxoxo · 27 days

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Twenty | Vagabond | The Last Kingdom

"Lighten up husband you know you're the only one I like touching me"

"Just you wait till we're out of here woman"

─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───

As we braced ourselves to depart from Eoferwich through sheer force, a silent plea escaped my lips, directed towards any god willing to listen. The last thing we needed was a spatter of bloodshed so early in our mission, especially if we aimed to conquer Bebbanburg and save Aelfwynn.

As the imposing gates parted, revealing Edward and his assembled army on the other side, I finally released the breath I had been holding. Uhtred allowed Edward his moment of triumph as the satisfaction of marshalling such forces washed over him, but I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the spectacle.

"To Bebbanburg" Finan's cry pierced the air, rallying the soldiers as cheers erupted around us. He shot me a knowing wink, to which I responded with a grin.

As we journeyed northward, our path was suddenly intercepted by Cynlaef, Aethelstan's closest companion. "What of Osferth?" I exclaimed, swiftly dismounting to warmly embrace him.

"Osferth is alive and well," he reassured me, his words washing over me like a soothing balm. With a sigh of relief, I turned back to Finan, nodding in gratitude. His smile mirrored my own, acknowledging the weight that would have burdened me had Osferth's fate been uncertain.

"I've been wandering" Cynlaef began, only to be abruptly cut off by Finan's terse interruption. "Now is not the time," he interjected, effectively silencing him.

Nevertheless, Cynlaef managed to relay the news of King Constantin's movements, his arrival at Bebbanburg by sea alongside his retinue while his main army marched overland. Despite doubts about Constantin's maritime voyage, we dismissed the notion, focusing instead on our pressing objective of rescuing Aelfwynn.

"We cannot besiege Bebbanburg while Aelfwynn remains captive," I asserted, finding agreement in Uhtred's proposed plan. He outlined a daring scheme wherein he and a select few men would infiltrate the fortress via a cliffside path to liberate Aelfwynn.

"When you say men I am going to assume you included me," I remarked, arms crossed, prompting Uhtred to exchange a glance with Finan "Don't look at him" I warned, steeling myself for the peril ahead. "It's going to be dangerous," he cautioned, to which I responded with an exasperated eye-roll.

"I am the one that swore the oath so I will not rest until that girl is safely in my arms, anyone with objections can handle them on their own," I declared resolutely, mounting my horse and riding ahead.

Uhtred's plan hinged on Haestan, whose supposed reformation still left me wary. Haestan would feign shipwrecked traders to lure Wihtgar onto the beach, then signalling Edward to initiate the attack.

── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ──

Scaling the rocks to reach the fortress proved to be an arduous feat, pushing the limits of exhaustion to new heights. Yet, my smaller stature in comparison to the men granted me an unexpected advantage, allowing me to manoeuvre more easily among the jagged terrain.

"Ah," I muttered, my gaze fixed on the seemingly insurmountable rock face before me. "What's the matter?" Sihtric inquired, concern etched across his features as he peered up at me.

"There's no way forward," I replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "The path is gone."

"Is there another way around?" Finan's voice trembled with apprehension. "Can we go back on ourselves?" His anxiety, palpable in the air, mirrored my own, perhaps tinged with an added layer of concern for my safety.

"There's no time the tide will be turning and men will be leaving their posts" Sihtric interjected, his tone laced with urgency. I glanced back at Finan, who rested his head against the rock in resignation. "You always said you wanted to die at Bebbanburg" he grumbled, a hint of gallows humour threading through his words.

"No one is dying" I retorted firmly, quelling any hint of fatalism. "Less talking let's go" I commanded, forging ahead as we ascended, each step a precarious dance with gravity.

Silence enveloped us until Finan's hand slipped causing him to let out a scream, his fingers barely clinging to the unforgiving rock face as his body hung below.

"Finan!" I cried out, panic seizing me as my heart raced with dread. "Give me your hand!" Sihtric's voice rang out, urgency fueling his movements, while I scrambled down toward them. "If you let go of him Sihtric I'm pushing you next" I barked, my own fear translating into a fierce resolve.

With a herculean effort, Sihtric managed to haul Finan back up, the tension easing as relief flooded through me. Sihtric erupted into laughter, momentarily eclipsing the gravity of our situation.

I slapped the back of Sihtric's head a mix of irritation and gratitude swirling within me, before pulling Finan close, my voice trembling with emotion. "You're an idiot," I whispered, my eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he cupped my face tenderly.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he quipped, his lips brushing against mine in a fleeting kiss.

"We're almost there," Uhtred's voice broke through the moment, "carefully" I cautioned Finan, casting a wary glance at the treacherous path ahead.

"This is a much better view than Sihtrics arse" Finan's irreverent remark echoed through the air, drawing an exasperated eye-roll from me.

At last, we reached the summit, relief washing over us like a gentle tide. I seized the opportunity to pull Finan into a kiss, savouring the fleeting moment "Maybe we should be doing that more often" he mused, his words tinged with playful warmth as I pulled away, shaking my head with a smile.

Sihtric skillfully hacked away at a weakened section of the wooden wall, creating an opening for us to slip through before discreetly covering our tracks. The moment we stepped into the fortress, distant voices pierced the air, sending us scrambling to hide.

With Uhtred donning a helmet as a disguise, we embarked on our mission to locate Aelfwynn. As we cautiously traversed the grounds, my thoughts raced with the dire consequences if any harm had befallen her.

Spotting King Constantin in the courtyard, a surge of anger welled within me. "If he's so much as even touched her I'm gonna turn him into Sigefrid" I muttered under my breath, my words tinged with venom.

Before I could react, Uhtred ventured toward his cousin, "Uhtred" I said in a harsh whisper but he didn't stop walking, ignoring my warning with ease. "You, stay in the courtyard" a voice commanded, prompting me to swiftly retreat behind Finan.

"Why does Constantin place his men here?" Wihtgar's inquiry hung in the air, met with Finan's attempt at a Scottish accent, I almost laughed out loud after Sihtric's imitation and attempt at the word "aye."

It didn't take long for Wihtgar and Constantin to discern the ruse, their suspicions falling upon Finan, Sihtric, and eventually, me. "Are you also shipwrecked Danes?" Constantin's query sent a chill down my spine, though it offered a glimmer of hope that Hild and Haestan had successfully infiltrated the fortress.

"Torture them for answers, show them the fate of any sea raider," Wihtgar commanded, his words dripping with menace.

"Gently," I interjected a futile attempt to temper the impending brutality as a guard shoved my arms behind my back. "I can cooperate if you ask politely," I offered, earning a silent rebuke from Finan's glare conveying 'Shut up before you get us killed.'

As we were bound to posts, I exchanged a glance with Uhtred, the only one among us still free. Wihtgar's piercing gaze bore into us, and I feared he would recognise our true identities. Mercifully, he was called away, diverting his attention elsewhere.

Turning my focus to our captors, I summoned what charm I could muster. "Excuse me," I addressed one of the men, feigning vulnerability. "What" he spoke gruffly and I forced a smile onto my face and then pouted "I think I injured my shoulder during the shipwreck," I said and he stood there looking at me like I was a foreign alien.

"Would you mind checking to see if there's a wound?" I inquired, attempting to infuse my voice with a hint of vulnerability. The guard's disinterest was palpable, but I pressed on, resorting to a flirtatious approach. "I could offer you a reward," I teased, my words laced with a promise that seemed to catch his attention.

"How's that?" he responded with a smirk, his demeanour suggestive of a man accustomed to such advances. Glancing at Finan and Sihtric, I noted their understanding of my ploy, though Finan did not look amused at all.

"Come closer, and I'll give you a clue," I murmured seductively, drawing him nearer with a subtle sway. As his fingers grazed the skin of my neck, a shiver ran down my spine, but I maintained my composure, knowing our freedom depended on this ruse.

His touch lingered, tracing a delicate path down the curve of my neck, his fingers deftly pulling at the fabric to reveal the vulnerable expanse of my skin. His hand slipped into my shirt feeling around and groping with a curious and unnecessary intent, I nodded at Finan and Sihtric silently conveying our plan, before bringing my head down forcefully onto his, catching him off guard.

Staggering back, he became the unwitting target of Sihtric's swift retaliation. A shard from Finan's boot found its mark, freeing us from our bindings in a flurry of action. Sihtric deftly cut the ropes, liberating Finan and then myself from our constraints.

The other guards were skillfully and quietly taken care of.

"How was that?" I grinned, revelling in our triumph, though Finan's eye roll hinted at his lingering exasperation. Sihtric's thumbs-up offered reassurance, as I leaned into the banter, seeking to ease the tension.

"Lighten up husband you know you're the only one I like touching me" I whispered as he passed me a weapon.

His smirk mirrored my own determination "Just you wait till we're out of here woman" he grinned. With resolve in our hearts, we dashed towards the stairs, fueled by the prospect that fate lay within our grasp.

─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───

so close to the end making me sad iwl 🥹 also unread

Tag list - @jasontoddorjasongrace

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years

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Chapter 1: Secrets, Secrets, Secrets...

Raining Hellfire: Season One | Season Two

Word Count: 4260 words

Warnings: swearing, reveal of sister, threats, s2 billy just being s2 billy, mentions of running away, implied neglect, keeping secrets, school fight, mentions of stalking, talking about love, trauma, visions, poor decisions pretty much

[A/N: whew I hope you like this chapter. i think this might be one of the shortest word counts so prepare haha]

Secrets, Secrets, Secrets...

“You have a sister?”

“No way that’s your sister.”

“I didn’t see that coming.”

You couldn’t focus on who was saying what. Your mind was trying to make connections, not fully understanding what your eyes were telling you.

When did Max get here? Why didn't they call you? And how-

Your thoughts were cut short as the driver finally exited the vehicle, the blaring music switched off as they opened their door and stepped out into the sun.

Nearby, a group of girls physically swooned at the sight of the handsome boy arriving, his jean jacket not making him any less cooler. He just had an aura of confidence that made every girl want to date him and every guy want to be him.

“Okay, who’s that?” Lucas raised his eyebrows, looking intimidated.

“Let me guess, Y/n’s long lost cousin.” Mike suggested. If it was meant to be funny, he failed.

“Shit.” You turned around and moved so that you were hidden behind Eddie.

“I assume you know him too.” Eddie chuckled half-heartedly, his hand gently brushing against your leg.

“I… I have a lot to explain-” You began until Dustin joined you, looking panicked.

“Uh, I hate to say this but he’s coming over here.” The boy stated quietly.

“Oh, god no.” You groaned. You reached down to your right and began picking up bags, throwing them towards the kids and they caught them with confused looks.

“This isn’t even my bag!” Lucas exclaimed, swapping with Will.

“Just go to school, okay? You’re gonna be late if you don’t leave now anyway but trust me… you don’t wanna stick around for this.” You glanced between each of them with pleading eyes.

“Uh… okay.” Mike shrugged, nodding at you, “Let’s go.”

Will walked side by side with Mike, Lucas letting out a sigh of frustration but following close behind. That just left Dustin.

“Dustin, please.” You knelt to the boy, matching his height.

“Tell me later?” He smirked and you held out your hand. You both executed your handshake perfectly before you gave him a quick nod.

“Yeah. Now go. They’re like halfway there.” You said and he turned his head, yelling for his friends as he ran to catch up with them.

You let out a sigh and glanced to your left to see the guy still making his way toward you, a smug look on his face.

“Eddie…” You started but he held out a hand, stopping you.

“Whatever’s going on, I’m not leaving.” He declared, taking your hand. The concern on his face just made you want to grab his hand and run away with him.

“Please.” You whispered, moving your hand away, “I don’t know what he’s going to say but I’d rather find you later and tell you myself.”

He glanced at the boy who had stopped for a second to flirt with a girl he came across. Eddie let out a sigh.

“Fine. But you tell me everything. And if he hurts you-”

“I’ll be fine. See you at lunch?”

“I’ll be there.” He gave you a kiss, a little longer than just a quick peck and you had a feeling it had to do with the figure approaching.

Finally, Eddie grabbed his things and made his way inside the building, looking back at you until he was behind closed doors.

“Wow, isn’t he just cute.” The mocking laugh echoed around you, releasing the memories you had locked up years ago.

“Billy.” You took a deep breath before turning to face him.

He’s definitely grown up since you last saw him, his features more defined. And he definitely suit the mullet, there was no denying it.

“Long time, no see.” He snickered, chewing on his gum. At least, you figured it was gum.

“What are you doing here?” You cut straight to the point, not letting him see how insecure you felt right now.

“No one told you, huh.” He remarked, taking a step closer to you. It took every bone in your body not to flinch. “Let’s just say, our parents liked eachother a little too much.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You could feel his breath now. He was chewing tobacco, not gum, and the fumes made you feel sick.

“You’re smart, Y/n. Figure it out.” He said with a smirk, lingering a little too long on your name, taunting you.

The bell chorused from the school halls.

“Saved by the bell. Talk to you later. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of eachother from now on.” Billy announced.

With a jeering grin, he brushed past you and headed toward his new school. Your school.

And just like that, California found you again.

The lunch bell sounded and you heard sighs of relief from your peers, grabbing their bags and escaping before your teacher remembered the algebra homework. Usually, you’d be rejoicing too but ever since you ran into your past this morning, you felt numb. Like none of it was real.

You walked down the hallway a little slower, not even bothering to dodge the sea of students swarming around you. Billy’s words replayed in your mind.

You already knew what he was telling you; his dad and your mom. You figured your parents had split after you left, your father only stuck around to leech off of everyone. And if Billy’s dad was with your mom… it meant his own mother had left him for good. You couldn’t imagine the toll that had on the boy.

“Woah!” Someone said as you accidentally crashed into their shoulder.

“Sorry.” You mutter, moving away as quickly as possible.

“Wait, wait.” They caught up to you, blocking your path.

You stare up at Steve Harrington, wearing some dark shades despite the fact that you were inside a building with barely any natural light.

“Hey.” You hug your torso, shifting your feet.

“What? No comment on the glasses?” He takes them off, raising an eyebrow of worry for not teasing him.

“Look, I’m gonna be late-”

“It’s lunch.” He stopped your escape plan. “And I just wanted to check on you. I saw you with the new guy.”

He looked around at the other students like you were passing enemy secrets.

“I’m fine.” Your voice betrayed you.

“Usually I’d be good with that but…” He sighed, pulling you to a corner. “What happened?”

You didn’t know why you were confiding in Steve Harrington. You were still mad at him for what happened but part of you just wanted to talk. You couldn’t care less who it was to.

“Billy.” You finally sigh, “Billy Hargrove. He’s from California.”

“You knew him.” Steve nodded, remembering the vague description of your past life.

“Yeah. And… my sister’s here too.”

“Really?”

No one would have ever expected Steve of all people to be the one to know about your family. When you first came to Hawkins, he took you under his wing. You helped him with his essays and he helped you settle in. It was a perfect thing you had. Trust was built and you finally let someone in.

“Yep. Judging by how she reacted, I’m pretty sure she wants nothing to do with me.” You said sadly, the image of your sister skating away flashed across your eyes.

“No. Don’t say that.” Steve lowered his voice as people passed by, “She’s probably just as confused as you are. God knows if I had a sibling and reunited with them years later I’d be freaking out a little.”

“Yeah.” You rubbed your temple, feeling a migraine, “You’re right. I’m just… processing everything. Wasn’t expecting California to show up in Hawkins, you know?”

“Don’t let Billy get to you either. I have no idea who he is but I already don’t like him.” He scoffed, folding his arms and leaning against the wall behind him.

“Why? Is he stealing all the ladies from a guy who already has a girlfriend?” You pouted sarcastically.

“There she is.” Steve pointed at you with a smile, making you laugh.

“Thanks, Steve.” Your voice was genuine.

Steve cleared his throat in surprise. “You’re welcome.”

His attention was caught by the sight of Jonathan and Nancy walking together, discussing some Halloween party. He stiffened, looking back at you and trying not to show that he was distracted.

“I should probably go.” You eventually conclude, adjusting your bag’s strap.

“Are you sure?” He asks, sending a quick glance to his girlfriend who was busy chatting.

“Yeah.” You smile as he sends you a look of disbelief, “She’s your girlfriend, Harrington, I’m not gonna be mad at you for wanting to spend time with her.”

You roll your eyes as he puts on the sunglasses again.

“Okay, but… you’re double sure?”

“Jesus Christ, Steve, yes, I’m sure. I’m supposed to be meeting Eddie anyway just go.” You groan, pushing him away.

He sends you a grin before sneaking up on Nancy and lifting her up. You took the opportunity to quickly walk past as she was distracted.

“Hey! Wait up.” Jonathan called out, cringing from Steve and Nancy’s make out session.

You notice the look on his face as you slow down to join him.

“Still not over her?” You ask sympathetically.

“I…” He just sighed, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Clearly.” You laugh softly and he smiles.

“She’s with Steve. They’re happy.” He justifies with a sad nod.

“Hey, you going to that Halloween party?” You change the subject hoping it would help but it just made him cringe more.

“God no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel like third wheeling everyone.” He sent you a look and you blushed. You still weren’t over the fact that Eddie was your boyfriend.

“How about we go together?” You suggest, earning a curious look. “Eddie isn’t going, he and his friends have a club that night which is just perfect for them. Spooky vibes and all.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Uh... yeah? I don’t think couples have to spend every waking minute with eachother.”

“Fair enough.”

You both ended up outside, Jonathan fishing out his keys. You knew he had free periods for the rest of the day so he probably was just gonna spend them at home. “So… party?” You mime dancing and make him laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He finally agrees and you pump your fist in the air in victory.

“Cool, meet you at yours then? I’ll be at Eddie’s tomorrow so I can easily walk there.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He stopped, turning back to you, “How the hell did you manage to convince me to go to a party I’m clearly gonna hate?”

“I guess it’s just my natural charm.” You smile sweetly and he shakes his head, walking to his car.

Turning to the field, you saw a figure dressed in black patiently waiting at your favourite bench. You mentally shook off the nerves and made your way over, sending him a shy smile when he looked up.

“Hi.” You greeted with a tight smile, claiming the spot next to him.

“Hey.” He smiled back, clasping your hand rested on the table, calming your nerves.

“So… I have a lot to explain.” You said with a low chuckle and he nodded, leaning into you.

He wasn’t rushing you, sitting beside you and waiting with a sympathetic smile. He was showing you that he was listening. Deep down, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you.

“I left my family behind in California.” You began, starting from the piece of information Eddie already knew, “Something… something bad happened. And I- I had to leave.”

You took a deep breath, Eddie rubbing your hand.

“My parents, they sent me to Hawkins. I was in a lot of trouble and they didn’t want me around anymore. No one did, I guess. Other than Max. She- I never wanted to leave her. I had this plan, when I graduate, to go see her again. I’ve been saving up ever since I got here, enough for two bus tickets out of California, away… away from that damn house.” You admit, gaze drawn on a splintered piece of wood so you could focus on your words.

“Billy- the guy from this morning? I knew him back in California and… and I’m pretty sure our parents are together now. Which is just- I can't even begin to explain how weird that is. My mom always found his dad charming so, I guess, they acted on it. And now he’s… here. With my sister and... and it’s just a lot for me to process right now.”

“It’s okay.” Eddie consoles, “I get bad parents, I do. Believe me. And… your sister is here. Which is good, right?”

“I guess.” You sigh, slumping against the bench, “If she ever wants to talk to me again.”

“It wasn’t your choice to leave her, Y/n.” He gently brushes your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. “If she’s anything like her sister then she’s more than smart enough to know that.”

You smile against his hand, “I’m not sure how I feel knowing that she’s living in the same house as Billy.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” He asks, scrunching his face. It was funny how he had the same reaction as Steve. Neither of them had even uttered a single word to Billy and already hated him.

“To put it nicely?” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “He’s a bit of an asshole.”

“What?” He responded with so much sarcasm it made you laugh. The laughter was cut short when you were reminded of your past with Billy. You needed to tell Eddie; it wasn’t a secret you wanted to keep from him.

“And, uh…” You started, forcing yourself to face your boyfriend and take his hand, “Billy. I knew him since I was a kid. Our families were neighbours so we spent a lot of time together and… we-”

“Yo! Eddie, you wanna see this!” Someone interrupted, shouting in your direction.

Eddie gave the guy a confused look before turning back to you. “Just ignore him... what were you saying?”

“Uh… Eddie?” You patted your boyfriend’s arm, your eyes glued to the scene that was screaming for his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t that Jeff?” You say in horror as you watched the 15 year old kid from Hellfire Club get beaten by some jocks.

“Shit!” Eddie jumped up, looking back at you before he ran off. “I-”

“Go! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.” He said, taking off toward the fight and joining his friends in aiding the young boy.

The jocks were outnumbered 2:6, meaning that you didn’t have to worry. Plus, you were relaxed knowing that you had taught Eddie a few moves to protect himself. After the last fight at the school, the one where you proudly punched Tommy’s smug face, the principal had been very clear about your punishment if you were involved in anything like that again.

So, you collected your things just as the school bell rang out. Eddie had a few things to do after school and although he hadn’t explicitly said what it was, you trusted him. He was probably setting some things up with his friends for Hellfire Club.

You were just upset that you didn’t tell Eddie the full truth about Billy.

After school, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. You figured you could head to family video and pick up a movie to watch tonight.

You finally picked out The Empire Strikes Back, remembering how the kids practically begged you to watch it with them sometime. You were sure that their parents didn’t let them watch the Star Wars movies very often so you were more than happy to let them sit at yours and watch the movies they were obsessing over.

As you heard the familiar bell ring when exiting Family Video, you spotted two kids hidden behind a car, one with a pair of binoculars.

“What the-” You said to yourself as you made your way over to the familiar boys.

“Oh ‘cause you’re such a threat?” Lucas mocked, looking to his friend.

“That’s right.” Dustin replied with a smile, “She will not be able to resist these pearls.”

He made a weird sound, Lucas reacting with disgust.

“Who’s not gonna resist?” You ask from behind them.

You appearing out of nowhere caused a scream to escape Lucas’ mouth, Dustin jumping slightly as he grabbed his heart.

“Are you a wizard?! Oh my god, I think I can taste my heartbeat.” Dustin gasped.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” You wondered, not ignoring how suspicious they looked.

“Okay. But do you really want to know?” Lucas questioned, turning to you with a guilty look.

“Ten o’clock. Ten o’clock.” Dustin exclaimed, getting Lucas’ attention and cutting off whatever you were about to say.

“What?” Lucas reacted immediately, grabbing his binoculars.

“Why are you-” You looked out to where they were investigating, seeing the familiar Camaro come to a screeching stop outside the arcade.

Max quickly exited the car, turning to respond to the shouts from within the vehicle.

“They’re arguing. They’re arguing.” Lucas shared. You shook your head, having a clear view of the events unfolding. You hated that Max was stuck with Billy. You hated even more that they were step-siblings now.

“Oh my god. I see that. I don’t even know why you need those.” Dustin complained, “God, you’re so stupid.”

“You little stalkers.” You whisper, crouching to hide from view.

“Firstly, you’re gonna need these babies one day and I won’t let you use them.” He taps his binoculars with two fingers, “Secondly, we are not stalkers.” Lucas responds, still looking through the binoculars.

“Yeah 'cause watching a girl from a distance with binoculars without her knowing doesn’t scream ‘stalker’ at all.” You mutter as Billy angrily drives away from Max, her flipping him off as he disappears into the distance.

“Woah. She’s definitely your sister.” Dustin commented, earning a small smile from you.

“She’s gone inside.” Lucas sighed, putting his binoculars down.

“What? I never would have known if you didn’t point that out.” Dustin’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Lucas as he punched him in the arm.

“Okay, creeps, show’s over.” You say, finally standing back up and taking a few steps before you noticed they weren’t following. “Hello? Am I invisible or something?”

“Uh, well, you see, Y/n. We, uh…” Dustin kept glancing at the arcade, Lucas smiling sweetly at you.

“No.” Was all you said, “No. No. That’s just weird, I’m not going to-”

And that’s how you ended up hiding in a booth at the arcade.

“I hate you guys.” You grumble, slouching in your seat with your arms crossed, sat opposite the boys. They had argued with you, saying that you needed to be on their side so Max didn’t see you. You’d rather her notice you sat with them than discover you hidden away like criminals.

“She’s incredible.” You heard them both mutter as they peered over their seats to Max playing a video game.

“Oh, god.” You sigh, hiding your face in your hands.

“She’s… Madmax.” They said and you almost slammed your head onto the table.

“You guys are disturbing.” You shook your head.

“What’s disturbing about young love?” Dustin queried, a giddy smile on his face.

“Love?” You looked up at them, Lucas grimacing.

“Ew, no. She’s just… a potential candidate, right Dustin?” He elbowed his friend, frantically nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what I meant. Not love, that’s… gross.” Dustin shook his head so much you were afraid it might fall off.

“Okay, let me get one thing straight.” You leaned in, lowering your voice to a whisper. “If you, and I mean either of you, treat this like some game to see who can get to Max first… I will end you.”

“Nice joke.” Dustin laughed unevenly, his chuckles turning silent when he saw the look on your face.

“You two are definitely sisters.” Lucas whispered, leaning back in his seat.

“Wait, so you haven’t seen your sister in years and neglected to tell us that she exists, but we have to listen to your warnings? How is that fair?” Dustin looked to Lucas who nodded along with his words.

“Don’t underestimate the things I’ll do for my sister.” You mutter, slumping back into your seat. You picked up a fork from the table, twisting it in your left hand to distract your thoughts.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.” Lucas reached across the table, grabbing your right hand and holding it in both of his.

“What is happening right now?” You looked to Dustin who just shrugged.

“I just want you to know… that no matter what happens, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.” He said solemnly, patting your hand as if it were a break up.

“Lucas… Lucas, Lucas...” You leaned closer as he smiled, “I… I will happily stab this fork through your hands if you don’t let go of me.”

You flashed a smile at him and he quickly retracted his hands, cradling them like he was going to lose them.

“She…” Dustin burst into a fit of giggles, barely able to speak, “She… just rejected you so hard… oh my god, I’m so glad that I didn’t miss that.”

After a while, you had decided to leave, Dustin and Lucas too busy laughing and fighting to notice.

You made a quick exit to the door, leaving the building and walking across the town, hugging your jacket as the wind began picking up. If you had stayed there any longer, you probably would have gone up to Max and talked to her. But you didn’t want to ambush her. She should come to you when she’s ready.

Turning the corner past the grocery store, you made your way up the hill and stopped. It was another 10 minutes of walking until you got home and you desperately needed music. You knelt down and unzipped your bag, pulling out your Walkman and checking the cassette tape. It was an Iron Maiden album, ‘The Number Of The Beast’, that Eddie had put in there from the last time he borrowed it. Usually, you’d be listening to your favourite song and letting your thoughts drift away until all you heard were the soothing lyrics. However, you’d been searching for that tape for almost year and still hadn’t found it.

You stood back up, headphones resting on your shoulders as you fiddled with the tape, trying to skip through to your favourite song.

“Y/n”

You span around, gripping onto your Walkman so tight your knuckles turned white. Your eyes couldn’t believe what they saw.

You weren’t in Hawkins anymore. At least, not the one you remembered. Thick black vines slithered across buildings, a dull red hue painted across the sky. You didn’t move.

“Y/n”

Your gaze fixed on the figure stood at the bottom of the hill, their long arm outstretched to you. Unknowingly, you gravitated towards the silhouette, ignoring the screams in your mind with each step. The Walkman had dropped from your hands, clattering to the ground. But you didn’t care.

At just a few feet away, you finally came to your senses.

“Y/n?”

A voice rang out again yet it was different. It didn’t belong to the figure in front of you. So you ran.

When you had finally left the silhouette in the distance, you halted, catching your breath and staring at the scenery in confusion. Where were you?

You took a few cautious steps, peering through trees now surrounding you. You were… at the Byers house.

What is happening? you asked yourself mentally, stepping through the trees until you were in the clearing. It wasn’t long until you noticed another figure.

You jumped back before seeing that it was Will Byers.

“Will?” You questioned, mostly to yourself. But the boy didn’t respond. He was distracted.

You walked until you were a few steps behind him, letting your eyes drift to his point of focus. A gasp left your lips.

In the distance, dark clouds loomed over the town, flashes of red burning the sky. It wasn’t until you took note of the shadow in the sky that you something truly terrifying.

"Y/n!"

A silent scream escaped your lips before you were suddenly pulled back into reality.

“Y/n? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” You blinked and found yourself stood next to your bag, holding your Walkman with ‘Run To The Hills’ blaring out through the headphones wrapped around your neck.

“I called to you like three times.” He said, his voice rough. You turned to the voice and found Billy stood next you, his car parked in front of where you stood, car door still open.

“I, uh… I zoned out.” You let out a shaky breath, looking at the boy you left in California. “What do you want?”

“I come in peace.” He replied with a dark chuckle. His voice was hard but there was something different in his expression. Could the smirk on his face be hiding concern? “I just saw you standing by the side of the road looking like a mental patient and figured you could use a ride.”

“Um…”

You wanted to tell him no, to stick your middle finger in the air and tell him to go away. But your shaking hands messed with your brain, telling you, ordering you, that you shouldn’t be alone.

So you did the one thing you always told yourself you’d never do.

“Yeah, sure.”

You got into Billy’s car.

Chapter 2: The Scariest Night Of The Year ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x female reader #fanfic #nancy wheeler #stranger things reader insert #dustin henderson #eddie munson x reader #lucas sinclair #will byers #mike wheeler #billy hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #stranger things 2 #st2 #stranger things imagine

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randomshyperson · 2 years

Text

Rulers of The Multiverse - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Summary: Strange’s faulty spell will cause a series of unexpected events, from your reunion with the love of your life in another world to the appearance of a child capable of traveling across the multiverse. This story follows the journey of a very tired Guardian alongside mischievous America Chavez and Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: (+18) explicit language and sexual content, violence, a lot of magic, found family, mentions of abusive past and trauma, mind control, use of illicit substances, mostly top!reader, soulmates analogies. || Words: 6.481k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist

A/N-> I can't believe we are reaching the ending already, so glad for all the reviews so far. A lot of you were worried I would kill Wanda, i almost feel offended haha I hope it's not so confusing to read about Wanda and her variant, just remember that one it's a redhead. Good reading everyone!!

--//--

Chapter Fourteen - Inevitable - Part One

Earth-012S - Before

Wanda stared into the mirror with boredom in her expression. It was not her own reflection she stared back at, but a distorted image of a demon - who had been whining for almost forty minutes.

"[...] Your incompetence continues to impress me, Miss Maximoff." Chthon teased as a last resort, seeing the way the witch wasn't even paying attention. The attempted offense caused a small smile to appear in the corner of the other, who crossed her legs in her chair.

"My incompetence?" She repeated with mock debauchery in her voice, defiance shining in her gaze. "And what are your complaints, my lord?"

The title came loaded with sarcasm, but neither she nor Chthon wavered in their postures. The image of him became sharper in his demon form.

"I keep giving you all the answers you need, and yet, you keep failing." Reminded the demon, his figure circling in the room's reflection, "I wonder if it's not time to choose another variant, one that spends less time on jewelry and more time doing their job!" He charges between teeth, and Wanda gives a hoarse little laugh, raising one of her hands to her chin.

The golden bracelet with the five infinity stones glows in the low light of the room.

"Tell me, oh all-powerful Lord of Chaos, how infuriating is it to be limited to a phantom dimension?" Wanda teases as she stands up. "You must be so frustrated without new toys."

"Do not test my patience, witch." Retorts the god angrily. "Don't forget who you're talking to."

But Wanda only gives another hoarse giggle, moving to reach for the wine jug beside the mirror.

"The mighty god of chaos, banished by his own siblings to a dimension that bores him. I have goosebumps." She mocks and bites back a smile as the god squirms - the whole room shaking and a crack appearing in the glass - through the witch, doesn't flinch an inch.

"When I am free, I will rip your head off and display it as a trophy, you dirty witch-"

"That's why we have issues, my lord." Wanda cuts in, raising one of her hands and taking a long sip of wine afterwards. "It's always the same of the same thing. You cuss, and I cuss, and then you give me some bad clue and try to guilt-trip me into doing your dirty work, and the cycle repeats. It's getting boring, don't you think? Why don't you just tell me where she is."

"Because I don't know!" Chthon shouts impatiently. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down. "She got out of my influence, it was the guardian I'm sure. I don't know where they are, and you're too stupid to find them!"

"Your lies get in my way, Chthon." Wanda cuts in with coolness, one hand studying the gleaming stones. "I've been turning worlds over after what you asked me for, and all your clues have led me to dead ends. I proved myself worthy of all that power long ago."

Chthon gives a wry laugh. "Worthy? All humans are unworthy of ancient magic, Wanda Maximoff. Our agreement is a mere testament to my benevolence, and you are wearing out my patience. I suggest you find the Guardian before I find another witch." Declares the god seriously, and Wanda clenches her jaw, staring back at him until the image falters, and her red eyes are the only reflection.

Earth-012S - Present

Wanda felt her whole body ache all at once. She could feel the grass scratching her face, and hear the muffled sounds of footsteps, voices, and something like electricity.

She watched as you were thrown into the magical portal, and forced herself to sit up as she saw the knight turn in her direction.

You couldn't be dead, because she could actually feel you everywhere.

"Y/N." She called out once, twice. Until the Knight stood in front of her, sword in hand. Her chest was aching, she had felt the blade before, but now, all she could feel was the wetness and the itch.

"How are you still alive, witch?" The knight questioned in a frustrated grumble, sword trembling between the fingers. "Is this some other of your illusions?" She shouted demandingly. Wanda lowered her head to her own wound, bloody fingers in front of her. But the cut was practically closed.

"Kill her! End this at once!" Someone shouted from the other side - Wanda was going to call it the female and equally show-off version of Steve Rogers with a British shield - to the Knight. But the figure was still hesitant.

"I sense Chthon in you. No more tricks, Wanda. This the end of the line." She declares before straightening her sword. And as she moves forward, scarlet magic holds the blade in the air.

"Now it's my turn." Wanda retorts, her magic expelling the sword away out of the knight's hand as other waves spring up from the ground, moving the roots until they lock onto her opponent's ankles and legs, forcing her to the ground.

The others barely have time to realize what is happening before the same magic envelops them, squeezing and straggling them to the limit - a warning not to try to fight.

Wanda presses the wound, now closed, for a second of confusion before she stands up properly and approaches the imprisoned Knight.

"Where is my family?" she asks earnestly and impatiently, watching the Knight struggle against the roots.

"If you're going to kill me, do it at once!" She retorts angrily. "Don't turn me into one of them!"

Wanda tilts her head, raising her hand to their helmet. The knight struggles, trying to pull the face away, but with a flick of her fingers, the metal begins to shatter until it falls to the ground.

"Y/N." Wanda gasps in surprise as she meets your face, a hard, angry expression, but still you. A few years older perhaps. A huge, deep scar on your right eye, to which she extends her fingers to. "How... what-"

"Don't play innocent with me!" Your variant shouted back, never ceasing to fight against the roots that were getting tighter by the second. "I can feel it, witch! I don't know how you fooled the sword, but I will find another way to kill you!"

Wanda took her eyes from the struggling figure to the fallen sword a few feet away. She used her roots to bring the item close, looking at it curiously.

"I felt the hit, I just don't understand how..."

"How did it not die? Neither do I!" Cut the irritated knight. "It was a trick of your dirty god, I'm sure of it! Let me go, Wanda! Let's have a fair fight for once. Without a sword and without your stones! Face me as an equal at least once!"

Wanda blinks in confusion at the whole thing. "My stones?" She asks and the Knight hesitates a bit as she lets her gaze run down.

"The infinity stones... Did you take them off? B-but..."

Wanda sighs, shaking her head. "Y/N, I'm not the one you're looking for."

"But..." The knight hesitates confusion in her eyes before the anger returns. "Lies! I feel Chthon on you!"

Wanda sighs impatiently, looking around for some clue as to America's whereabouts or the version of you she should be looking for.

The van has had its trunk pretty much wrecked. Something had hit it so hard that it had opened a crater in the road, and when she saw the formation, she realized that it looked a lot like the cut of something, and it was not easy to deduce that it came from the sword.

Turning her attention to the item again, the roots moved the blade to her eye height, and Wanda raised her fingers to the glowing item.

"If you are going to use it to kill me, know that it will hurt you too." The Knight warns between teeth, causing Wanda to frown. "You are not worthy to wield it."

"I would never hurt you, Y/N." Wanda retorts as if it were obvious, receiving an incredulous, tired laugh in return. Rather than insist, she traces her fingers across the blade, sighing softly as she recognizes her magic in it. "I can feel...you."

The knight grimaced. "Of course, you can, it's my sword."

Wanda sighs impatiently, pushing these curiosities away as she moves closer to the knight again, placing her hands behind the back of your neck. "Forgive me, dorogaya, I know you hate it, but I need to find your other version and our kid." That's the only warning before Wanda uses her magic to enter the variant's mind.

It is messy and heavily fortified. Much more so than any other mind, she has ever entered. She can feel the magic fighting against hers, pushing her out. And for a second she thinks she felt a third force, perhaps Chthon trying to overpower her again, before she gets anything really useful. A hiding place in some kind of temple.

She left her variant's head with a gasping sigh, blinking as she met your confused and oh-so-familiar eyes.

"You are not the Wanda I seek." The knight sighs affectedly. "But Chthon has you, too."

"No, detka." Wanda assures gently, one hand going to the cheek of the woman in front of her. "What you feel is not Chthon. You just feel my Chaos magic. I am the Scarlet Witch."

The Knight struggles against the roots in desperation. "No! Get out of here! Don't let her find you!"

Wanda frowns in confusion, but the Knight doesn't stop fighting until the roots start to hurt. "Please, Wanda! Don't look for her, leave this world now! Before she finds you!"

"I have to find-"

"She wants your magic!" The knight cut in desperation. "She wants it, and she'll do anything to get it! There can't be another forge, if she has you it will be a matter of time before she finds the guardian-"

"You are the guardian!" Wanda interrupts, surprising the other, "Or, well, your variant. Which you just threw into a portal."

The knight shakes her head in panic. "No." She gasps, and grunts at the roots. "Let me go! I sent her straight to it, we need to run. She can't get to your Y/N!"

Wanda hesitates, but it's you. And she is running out of options.

"Don't try to kill me again." She warns before the roots go slack. The knight falls to her knees but doesn't stay on the ground for more than two minutes, picking up her sword and getting up.

As soon as the other two girls are free, she is conjuring a portal.

"Now we get to work with the enemy?" It is Captain England who asks Wanda suspiciously, but the Knight gives a short laugh.

"Careful, Peggy. She's the Scarlet Witch, that pretty much makes her your queen." That's the response before your variant pats the surprised woman on the shoulder to encourage her to enter the portal, being accompanied by the other older witch. Before Wanda enters, the Knight touches her arm. "Forgive me for the hit, I thought-"

"It's all right." Wanda interrupts with a lopsided smile. "Let's just get this mess over with soon. I want to find, well, you."

The knight gives a small smile. "Sure, but another thing... If my eyes turn red, and it's not you, aim to kill."

Wanda swallows dryly, but her variant beckons her to enter the portal, and she just decides better to obey.

—--------

“[...] So, in this universe, Wanda snapped her fingers instead of Thanos?" You asked Erik - who had spent the last few minutes explaining to you about that universe in what you came to call the little headquarters.

The cell you were in was in Darkhold's castle, Wundagore Mountain, and according to Erik, it was the most efficient location for what the group had been planning for months.

"Exactly, Miss L/N." Erik agreed with a nod, and you resisted the urge to correct him about your last name. "The second time we needed to face the Mad Titan, someone needed to snap their fingers to wipe out his army. But Wanda..."

"Switched sides." Natasha interrupts the story with a scowl, bringing out what looked like destroyed traps. Erik sighs.

"Romanoff, it wasn't like that."

"Or pardon me, Magneto, what would you call what the lady did later with her own people?"

You frowned in confusion. "Her people?"

Nat laughed humorlessly. "Mutants." She clarified. "Wanda didn't stop after Thanos. We had a plan, to use the stones to stop the titan, and destroy them after. But she grew fond of the power. When the fight was over, no one else could find her, not the stones, not even your body."

You widen your eyes. "M-my body?"

"Look, cutie, the reason Pietro was impressed with your affection for the witch is that after what happened to our Wanda and your variant, she went completely berserk. She used some kind of magic to travel between worlds and murder as many versions of you as possible."

You swallowed hard, glancing quickly at America, but the girl was busy with one of the others in the corner of the room and away from the conversation. "But why would Wanda, um, kill me?"

"We don't know exactly, but it must be because you are the only one who can stop her." Erik continues the story. "Look, Y/N, in this world, my daughter and you had a difficult relationship. Opposing natures in your abilities caused a certain conflict between you. It was a surprise when the conflict turned into love. But you, well, there is no easy way to say it. You died protecting the Mind Stone."

"But it was no use, because Thanos already had the Time Stone, and he only needed to rewind it to get all five." Natasha says, her hands working on the broken traps. "Half the population blipped, and Wanda with them. Thanos prevented your death by using the Stone, but you grew different without her. When we brought everyone back, you and I..." Natasha hesitates, clearing her throat. "We needed to make a sacrifice. One soul for another. And well, you gave yours. I used the iron armor to get your body, and it wasn't an easy thing. But I couldn't leave you in that place..."

You look at them in surprise, but the redhead just sighs wearily before speaking again.

"So when Wanda came back from the blip, she found out that you had sacrificed yourself, once again, for the greater good or whatever other cheesy shit you used to say." Nat continues. "We held a funeral for you, tried to move on. But suddenly, things started getting pretty weird."

"Wanda isolated herself after she ran off with the stones. She came here, in this castle to study the darkhold." Erik takes over the story. "It was Pietro who found her first, and he only got out alive because he was smart enough to pretend to believe the fantasy she created here."

You look at them expecting them to complete, but it is Pietro who steps forward.

"Imagine this place completely different, Y/N. Like a real castle, with fine tapestries and shelves of gold. It was like walking into a fairy tale, nothing like those moldy walls or that cold. I entered through the front door, and was welcomed by you." Pietro recounts. "Wanda used the stones to restore everything, and create a fake life. But everything was fragile and untruthful, she could not go far from the castle, nor you, nor..."

"Your daughters." Erik continues, and you widen your eyes. "Two little girls also made with magic. It was a perfect fairy tale. But it was destroying that reality from the inside out."

"Me or the guys who can't move things with their minds had no chance of stopping her, especially with the stones and all the power she gathered while being here." Natasha counters with a grimace. "So the sorcerers and her people tried."

"And Wanda snapped her fingers again." Pietro completes with a sad sigh. "She refused to move on, and with just a simple wish, all the mutants were gone."

"But you and Erik are still here." You comment as soon as you recover from the shock, and receive a humorless chuckle from the older man.

"Yes, and I should thank you for that." Erik retorts. "The Sword that your variant carries, has the power to cut between realities. You left Wanda, broke free of her command, and dragged a few of us into another universe. And as we tried to make our way back, we discovered what our Wanda was doing. Killing her way out to get to the version of you that can help her get what she really wants."

"She wants it to be real." You mutter in shock. "That's it isn't it?"

All three nod in agreement. Natasha speaks first:

"Your betrayal has shaken her, that was our guess. Because she brought you back to life and you, well, went behind her back and did the right thing." She says. "But then, when your variant explained to us about your magics, and about who you were, it all made sense."

"Not even the five infinity stones can create life, Y/N." Erik says. "Wanda needed ancient magic, and this place taught her all about it. The problem is that there can only be one Scarlet Witch, and she was not the one chosen."

"So she wants to steal my Wanda's magic?"

Erik nods. "And yours too."

"Mine?" you exclaim in confusion.

"Order Magic and Chaos Magic, when combined, create life." He explains. "It would make her daughters real, it could even bring you truly back to life."

"So the knight version of me, is like a living dead person?"

"Something like that." Natasha comments running a hand over her neck. "I think it's in the middle. The blessing of the goddess of order and the soul stone keeps you grounded, probably. We don't know exactly how it works, but what matters is that you are standing, trying to bring the mutants back and stop your ex-wife."

You sigh loudly, getting up. Your body is hurting a little, but that will have to wait for later.

"Okay, that was a lot. But I need to find my Wanda, so tell me what I can help with?"

Natasha and Erik exchange quick glances. "You stay behind, we've been practicing this for a long time for new changes." That' is what the mutant declares, making you exclaim impatiently.

"What? No, I'm going to help!"

"Miss L/N, you can't even use your magic properly-"

"It is Miss Maximoff, and my magic is fine!" You retort, electric wires coming out of your fingers. "I'm going to find your daughter, both versions, and put an end to this big mess. And then I'm going to pack up my car and leave this universe!"

Natasha hides a giggle, impressed by Magneto's speechlessness. You step aside to walk over to America.

"Hey kiddo, come here a sec." You ask pulling her into a corner. "I want to ask you to stay behind."

America frowns immediately. "What, but I want to-"

"Help, I know." You interrupt her with a sad smile. "But, you're like, super important to me okay? And I don't want you to be in danger. And we've arrived in a world where it's gotten really bad really fast, and we're dealing with something way worse than crawling monsters, and I'm not going to risk you."

"But Y/N..."

"America, promise me something." You say looking into her eyes. "If things get worse, you will open a portal and you will leave this world. And you won't look back."

She immediately denies it with her head, her eyes filling with tears. "No, I'm not leaving you."

"Please, kiddo, listen to me." You insist, swallowing your emotion to speak seriously. " You know that I care about Wanda. Very deeply. And fighting her is not going to be the same as fighting someone else. I can't guarantee that..." You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. "She's not like another enemy, I would never want to hurt her. And maybe, in this world, I need to. And if I fail, I don't want you to be put in danger. So you need to promise that you will stay safe, while I search for our Wanda to be back."

America hesitates, but then hugs you tight, and you want to believe that she will obey.

"Well, it's time, so if you're going to help, move." Natasha breaks the momentum as she approaches, two rifles - visually encrusted with magic by the electrical markings on the tips - at her back. The group moves very quickly.

And you bid America farewell at the cell door. "Remember, Chavez. Things have gotten ugly..."

"Portal to another world." She completes, hugging you one last time before you turn away.

Natasha guides the group through the dark corridors. You realize through the windows of the castle that there is some sort of event going on outside.

"Those are the Chaos Worshippers." Pietro whispers to you as you make your sneaky way. "They're like henchmen."

"Oh, right." You mutter, and as soon as you meet up with the first group around the hall, you realize that Natasha and the others are using the fireworks to cover the noises of gunfire.

A moment later, something occurs to you.

"Hey, Pietro, you didn't tell me where to...?" But you keep silent because you are alone in the cold hallway. Your body tenses immediately, and it only gets worse when a giggle sounds in your ears, the sound all too familiar.

"You know what the most fun part of time loops is?" Asks the female voice that makes you close your eyes for a second. "No one ever realizes they are in one."

You watch the illusion of the hallway dissipate around you, turning into a destroyed large room.

"What have you done with them?" You ask into the room, not knowing where the witch was yet, not being able to sense her.

"They are experiencing that ridiculous day again. Over and over." She replies. "This pathetic attack on the worshippers. It was very foolish of them to think I wouldn't find out they were in my own house, don't you think, Detka?"

You swallow dryly at the nickname, but the woman laughs softly again, and a moment later, you look forward, and she is stepping out of the shadows.

Always, absolutely stunning, in every universe. It's unfair, to say the least. You sigh deeply, trying to remember everything you've been told.

Bad Wanda.

Bad yet fucking pretty Wanda.

"I finally found you, Y/N." She says with a short smile, her brunette hair cascading down her shoulders, her red outfit completely dominated by the darkhold marks and making you swallow dryly.

"I hope you're not disappointed." You manage to tease with a small smile, trying not to despair at the thought of America.

Wanda smiles, her eyes glowing red. "I kinda miss the scar, but you're still beautiful."

You give a confused laugh, "Scar?"

"Mm-hmm." Wanda murmurs, moving leisurely around, her fingers lighting the chandeliers one by one until you are able to make out the great hall you are in, and the statues on the walls. The largest of them, in the center, makes you swallow dry because it is exactly like the one on your back. "Didn't you get one in your universe? Here, it was a heartbreaking story. Little Sammy didn't want his sister to embarrass him at training so he decided to teach her a lesson."

You frowned. "My brother?"

Wanda bit back a smile, watching you intently. "Oh, you know him, then."

"Of course I do!" You retort. "My brother would never hurt me!"

Wanda gives a wicked little laugh, shaking her head. She crosses her arms, one hand brought to her chin, and you flinch as you notice the bracelet with the stones. "It's fascinating how stories change between universes, don't you think, darling? Your Samuel wouldn't hurt you, while in this world, hurting you was all he ever did."

You swallow dryly, trying to think of what to do next. Wanda seems to immediately realize your idea of buying time, and closes her fist, wrapping you in a magical chain in the blink of an eye that makes you grunt in pain.

"But I lied to you, dear." She comments as she approaches you. "The scar was much smaller before I ripped the stone from your eye."

“W-what?”

You grunt in confusion, being dragged across the room without difficulty by the thick, painful chains.

"Oh, yes, you asked me to, sweetheart." Wanda retorts, leading the way to a stone table. "You said it was time and that only I had the power to do it. Thanos could not have the Stone ‘cause it wouldn’t be fair for all those people to die. But it was alright, right, dear, since I could never hurt you, could I?"

You swallow dryly, trying to struggle against the chains to no avail, and soon, you are pinned to the stone table. Wanda sighs softly, as she approaches, leaning toward you until the hand holding the stones is caressing your cheek.

"So I put a hole in your face to destroy the stone, and I killed you for nothing." Wanda tells without a hint of emotion in her voice, though you can make out the tears in her red irises. "And when Thanos brought you back, what happened, kukolka?"

"You were blipped." You answer, your breath hitching as you feel Wanda trace her black fingers to your throat, and can hear the fabric of your t-shirt being torn. "A-and I sacrificed myself for the Soul Stone to bring everyone back wasn't it?"

"Funny thing." Wanda comments as she licks her lips, your torn shirt flying away into the distance, and her hand going down to your stomach. "Since you gave your soul, no matter how many times I snapped my fingers, you wouldn't come back to me. Not entirely. Always a whisper, a shadow."

"Perhaps it would be better to let me go." You suggest breathlessly, and Wanda gives a short chuckle. Your smile fades as you feel a deep pain in your abdomen as if your skin is tearing and burning. The surrounding candles burst into flames, and Wanda sighs deeply.

"The worst part about these toys, Y/N, is how fragile they are." Wanda mutters as she moves her hands away from you - stained with blood now - and nods to her own wrist with the stones. "No matter how many times I changed the fantasy, it never stopped being a lie. And we deserve better than a lie, don't you think, darling?"

You didn't answer, because suddenly it became hard to breathe. Your body began to burn, and spasm and your eyes began to glow golden. Wanda watched the scene with fascination, leaning toward you again, and whispering in your ear:

"Find them for me, dear." She commands. "So I can make things right for us again."

—-----

Wanda can feel Chthon in the walls. Still, he doesn't speak to her. There is only a low rumble of a laugh, a teasing. As if he knows she is there but doesn't recognize her only to leave the uncomfortable feeling beneath her skin.

Your variant brought her into an open room, some kind of hiding place. It was full of people, working with boxes of weapons or objects she didn't know about.

They seemed to be planning something big.

Peggy and the witch from before came out in front, the captain went straight to the front of an electronic map of a structure that resembled a castle.

"Where are we?" Wanda asked the knight, who offered her a tired sigh.

"The resistance." She replied. "What's left of the Avengers, Mutants, and Sorcerers of this world. All working to end the Witch's dominance."

Wanda crossed her arms in discomfort. It wasn't her, but it was still a version of her that had started some kind of tyrannical dictatorship. She decided to stick around your variant, it was the most familiar thing she had there.

"Any sign of them, Peggy?" Asked the knight to Peggy who still had her attention on the map.

"No, Y/N, we're the same. No return officially for four weeks." Says the captain sadly. Your variant sighs in frustration, and Wanda asks what's wrong.

"A group has gone AWOL on a planned offensive." Answers the woman, and seemed a bit hesitant to continue, but at Wanda's glance, she sighed. "Among them, Wanda's brother."

"Pietro?" She exclaims in shock. "He...he's alive?"

"Well, we don't know." Peggy cuts in with a certain sarcasm. "It was risky to attack, but we planned it for months. And when it finally happened, it was as if the whole group just disappeared. I wouldn't doubt that she snapped her fingers again and-"

"I wouldn't hurt him." Wanda interrupts seriously and doesn't flinch from Peggy's stare. "Never. In any world. He's my twin."

"Well, in any case, he's gone. Along with some other soldiers quite valuable to us." Peggy still clearly doesn't believe Wanda. "We're preparing an infiltration mission, to at least find out if your variant is even still inside the castle-"

"She's inside." The knight cuts in. "I can feel her. But that doesn't mean she hasn't left."

The knight nods for Wanda to follow her to the other corner, where there are several note boards to which she nods.

"The Darkhold castle is the place where the God of Chaos prescribed the book of the damned. All the teachings are on the walls. There is a spell that allows a witch to transmit the consciousness to another version of themselves throughout the universe." Explains the woman. "It is how my-our Wanda has traveled between worlds and done so much damage. I, on the other hand, can only go physically, by using Oshur's sword to cut my way between the rifts of the worlds. And it's exhausting for someone in my condition."

"What condition?" Wanda asks.

"I am dead." The knight replies making Wanda's eyes widen. "There is much you do not know..."

"We don't have time for stories, Y/N." The elder witch with the staff cuts in, approaching Wanda. "Let me show you the truth, and we can continue to fight."

She allows the witch into her mind after exchanging a look of confirmation with your variant. And in a second, she sees everything that happened there. It overwhelms her, all the pain and suffering.

"Excuse me, I need... a moment." She asks quickly not wanting to have a panic attack in front of so many strangers.

She ends up in a hallway, her hand on her stomach and her forehead against the wall. There is a small improvised bathroom to her right, and she is grateful for the sink.

Memories of the witch flash in her eyes - ugly fights, the image of herself killing all those sorcerers, holding the bracelet, holding your body....”

"Sorry about that." The voice of your Variant makes Wanda jump in fright. She meets the eyes so familiar and yet so different in the reflection, as the variant approaches with a small smile. "They're not good at trusting strangers, especially if the stranger has the same face as the enemy."

Wanda gives a short laugh, turning around, her hands holding up her sinks. "It's okay, I can hardly imagine how hard it must be to look at me and not see so much death."

Your variant hesitates, taking up the free space on the wall. "I'm sorry, Wanda." That's what she says, and Wanda only forces a smile, averting her eyes to her own feet. "If it's any consolation, I don't just see death when I look at you."

"And what do you see?" Wanda asks raising her gaze again and getting a small smile in return.

"I just see you."

Wanda looks away again, a short laugh escaping. "Yeah, I don't know what that means."

"I guess we'll find out." Your variant comments and Wanda sighs, brushing a strand of hair out of the front of her face.

"What's the plan?" She asks, deciding that she has already spent too long thinking about things when she should be meeting you and America. Your variant gives a soft chuckle.

"Well, the plan was to investigate the large, unknown, magical energy emission that appeared in Dragorin, and try not to lose anyone else along the way." The knight countered by crossing one of her arms. "And of course, the main mission of preventing the witch from finding both the Guardian and the Scarlet Witch, but apparently, we've already blown a stage."

"Where did you send her?" Wanda questions and your variant lets out a guilty sigh.

"To an abandoned cell in the eastern area." She replies. "I figured your Y/N was under the witch's control, and I wasn't going to send her straight to us. But it's an old hiding place, and she'll probably find it eaten. The little girl too."

Wanda lets out a relieved sigh. "Okay, let's go there then."

The knight frowns. "That's not how we do things-"

But Wanda cuts in with a short laugh. "Look, I don't mean to be disrespectful to all the fighting and planning, but, I've dealt with the infinity stones before. And chaos magic is endlessly superior. You guys don't have to worry about-

"It's not you I worry about." Variant cuts in with a seriousness that makes Wanda swallow dryly. "That version of you wiped out a population with a snap of the fingers. The stones may not be as powerful as ancient magic, but they do bad damage. The Scarlet Witch can survive a lot, but we have soldiers who don't count on the same luck."

Wanda presses her lips together. "Fine, I'll go alone then." Wanda declares but when she turns around, your variant holds her wrist.

"Please, Wanda, listen to me." She asks more gently now. "I dare not underestimate your mastery or magical power, but I am talking about a version of you that has been absorbing knowledge and other creatures, including master spellcasters for a considerable time, all to achieve as much power as she could." Your variant counters. "I must urge the minimum of caution, for if my Wanda is able to absorb your magic, it will be the end of everything."

Wanda tilts her head toward your variant. "Earlier, you corrected yourself. You called her our Wanda, instead of yours." Remarks the witch and watches the variant swallow dryly, looking away. "Witchbreaker memories don't show everything. What am I to you in this world?"

Your variant hesitates, shaking her head. "Nothing, not anymore."

"Bullshit."

"Wanda."

"I always know when you're lying." Wanda insists, raising a hand to the variant's face, sliding her finger across the scar in her eye. "Yet, this is different."

The variant swallows dry again, shuddering under the touch but keeping her gaze on Wanda. "No matter what existed between us, my mission now is with the survivors."

Wanda hums, tracing the scar. "What happened to your eye?"

"It doesn't matter." Variant says but Wanda firms her grip, and the woman grunts softly before adding: "You."

"What was in here?"

Variant sighs. "I had an accident when I was younger, my master thought I would bleed to death, so he put Agamotto’s eye in place, that being the mind stone. When Thanos arrived, you had to rip it out to destroy it so the Titan couldn't have it."

Wanda pulls her hand away in shock. "I blew a hole in your head."

Your variant sighs. "Wanda, it wasn't your fault-"

"You lost your vision as a child." She mumbles thoughtfully, a million ideas in her head at once. A million possibilities.

"Hum, yeah, but you used to make a little joke about it." Your variant counters with an awkward chuckle. "The first time you saw me with the stone, you joked that I was a such a good vision to look at. It was meant to tease me, but then it kind of became a nickname and-"

Wanda's eyes were filled with tears.

Vision.

You were Vision.

How was that possible?

"[...] Anyway, it doesn't matter. That was a long time ago, and I'm dead, and I can't let my Wanda go on with this."

The witch frowns. "She's doing all of this for you, isn't she?"

Variant chuckles short, "No, Wanda." But the witch doesn't believe it, not one bit.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying!" The variant exclaims impatiently and takes a deep breath for speaking up. "She didn't…-I left her, okay? My Wanda brought me back, did everything for us, and I...I left her. I lost her. She's not... I don't feel her anymore. I just feel Chthon." She confesses with bitterness in her voice. "The first few nights, I could pretend I didn't. Wanda used the stones and kept changing things to take the uncertainties out of me, but over time, it all broke down. She is no longer..." The variant cut herself off, emotion in her voice, and Wanda swallowed dryly. "That's why I say it doesn't matter what happened between us. I'm dead, and my wife is gone too. The priority has to be those people."

Wanda sighs deeply but manages a smile. She holds the variant's hand. "I will make things right, I promise."

The variant smiles but blinks a moment, and her eyes turn red. Wanda frowns. "Y/N?"

Suddenly, lips are on hers, and Wanda chokes in surprise. She instinctively pushes off the variant, confusion stamped on her face. The knight wastes no time in pushing forward again, pressing Wanda's entire body against the sink.

It's so familiar, and it's so you. Except it isn't. And while Wanda is busy trying to remember this, and trying to get free, the knight conjures a portal next to them.

"Y/N, stop-" Wanda pleads, pushing again, but her sentence breaks into an exclamation as she stumbles backward, and is falling at high speed.

She only has time to force her flight magic, before the variant jumps after her beyond the portal.

Both land on the ground with a very loud impact, and Wanda freezes as she hears her own laughter.

"I should have known you would make a theatrical entrance, my dear." Says Wanda's variant, sitting on the throne in front of the black stone table where you are tied up. "And I should also say hello to the honorable Scarlet Witch."

--//--

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda imagines #Rulers of The Multiverse

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bellarkeselection · 1 year

Note

Hey i was wondering if you could do a tyrion one short. Where y/n was feeling that tyrion was rethinking on marrying her but he talks her down. And that hes deeply in love with her no matter what

We're The Others Dream

Most women didn't get the chance to marry someone they loved. Get to really know the person before the two met at the alter and be married before the gods. Because Westeros weddings were not meant for love but for duty. Running my fingers through my hair I felt my chest tighten at the thought. Tyrion and I had fallen in love despite what his family had done to mine. Everyone always mumbled that a Stark and Lannister would be powerful together. I wasn't concerned with power but my stomach was twisted in knots thinking that he might not really want to marry me. If he was married than his life would change and he probably wants to marry someone else. "Y/n, can I come in. I have something to tell you." Lifting my head up I recognized his voice through the other side of the door. Wiping away tears I sniffed a little slowly opening the door for him.

"My father won't give me Casterly Rock but I have another idea. I could take you home back to Winterfell. What's wrong. Why are you crying dear?" He stopped talking spinning on his feet before I raised my hand trying to wipe the tears away thinking that I had stopped crying. Wrapping my arms around myself I avoided his gaze unsure what to say. "It's nothing Tyrion. What were you saying about taking me home?" He takes my hands in his having me sit down in the chair by the window squeezing his hands holding mine. "It's not nothing Y/n. I hate seeing you upset so tell me what happened to make you cry. I want to help you be happy again. As your soon to be husband it is my duty." His green eyes pouring into mine where I croaked out almost not believing him. "You still want to marry me, Tyrion?"

He tugs me over to the bed slumping his shoulders while he sat on his knees on the bed having me stand on my feet in front of him. "Of course I still want to marry you Y/n. I never stopped loving you. Whoever made you think that I didn't want you to be my wife. I love everything about you. My feelings have not changed and never will." He declared green eyes staring intensely into mine. I blushed lightly at his words knowing he always knew what to say in almost every situation. "I just keep picturing that you want a wife that follows the traditional rules and doesn't wear trousers or speaks out of tounge-" He cuts me off crashing his lips onto mine where I leaned into his touch until he broke it. "I love every part of you. We are the other's dream lover. There's nobody else I want to marry." I smiled hugging him gently and he hugs me back.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#tyrion lannister imagine #tyrion lannister one shot #tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister x reader #peter dinklage #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones asks #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones masterlist #requests open #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated #tyrion lannister x stark reader

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captainlunaxmen · 4 months

Text

The Lady and the Lord

Chapter 11

Eddie munson x fem!reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: some domestic (well deserved) time for our heroes.

Chapter warnings: spoiler season 4, cuteness.

I don't think there are words to describe what I'm feeling right now.

Hopper, El and I sitting on the floor of Hopper's cabin, because they didn't have time to fix everything else properly yet, eating some pizza.

"God... I missed pizza" Hopper basically moans as he eats a slice.

"I bet" I nod. "Now we gotta get you back to your previous form"

"Don't worry. I'll get there in no time. Gotta make up for all that... well...whatever they fed us" he says with a chuckle.

I can't imagine what he's been through all this time... he deserves to rest... well deserved.

"I missed you" El suddenly says and we turn our head to look at her.

"I missed you too... both of you" Hopper smiles "even if you were a real pain in the ass sometimes"

El and Hopper laugh.

"That's not true!" I defend myself.

"You're right, you're right... you were a real bane" he chuckles and I open my mouth shocked by his words, but amused at the same time.

"You're really not the one to make that argument?!" I challenge.

"What? What did I do?" He laughs.

"You weren't that better" El agrees with me.

"Ah!" I exclaim.

"You two are trying to make me regret the Russian prison? Is that what this is?" He jokes taking another big bites of pizza.

"Never. We don't want to lose you anymore" I say with a smile, looking at El who nods.

"Neither do I" Hopper smile is genuine.. Happy and relieved. As if now he can finally take a break.

I feel my eye getting wet from happy tears so I just blink them away with a chuckle.

"Okay, I don't need any more crying. Let's talk about something else" I declare eating my own slice of pizza.

They nod laughing with me.

"Who... who's Eddie? Dustin talked a lot about him" El softly asks.

Oh god.

"Yeah" Hop take advantage of her question "who is Eddie? Uh?"

"I'm so happy you're here I-" I try to change subject again, but Hopper cuts me off.

"Oh no, no, you won't get away with it now. No Harrington to save you this time either. Who. Is. Eddie?" He says with the most triumphant grin I've ever seen.

"Fuck..." I mutter, I look at El, she sends me an apologetic, yet teasing smile so I take a deep breath "he's my boyfriend... since, uh... today"

"Wait... is this Eddie Munson? As in the drug dealer?" He suddenly asks.

"Yeah..." I say, ready to hear him say I shouldn't be with him.

"He better be treating you right, then" he simply says, catching me off guard.

"Wait... is he okay to you? Like no 'you shouldn't associate yourself with people like him' or something?"

"He's always been a good kid, okay? Not a Saint... far from it. But... he did what he had to do. His father wasn't the best person out there" He explains.

"Yeah.. I know" I sigh.

"So... as long as he treats you right and doesn't do anything illegal... he's alright to me" he gently smiles.

"You love him?" El asks. I look at her smiling at me, I nod.

"He better not break your heart"

"Yeah yeah, Steve already gave him the speech" I wave him off.

"Harrington?" Hopper asks sceptically "Cool-Hair? Really?"

I nod, holding back a laugh.

"Okay.." he sighs "I will have to give this Eddie the actual speech, then"

At that El and I burst out laughing, loudly. Hop looks at us with a warm smile before laughing with us.

The evening goes on like this, laughs and catch ups.

Hopped told us about his time in Russia, how he managed to befriend one fo the guards and then escaped with Joyce and Murray's help.

El told us about her experience in high school in California. Which made my blood boil after hearing about this Angela treating her like shit. She then told us how she got her powers back, about Brenner being alive and about what she discovered about her past... how she first defeated One.

I gently grab her hand after she finished talking and she smile at me, grateful.

I told them about Chrissy, how Eddie had to hide because the whole town thought he was the killer. I told them about us being stuck in the Upside Down, our plan and how Eddie almost died to help us.

When it got late Hopper offered to drive me home so I wish El goodnight and go to get in the car with Hop.

"You sure he treats you right?" Hopper asks while he drives.

"I'm sure, Hop. He's really nice" I tell him.

"Gotta meet him.. I mean.. it's my job, now" he says seriously, but I can tell he's smiling.

" you will, I promise. Just don't be too harsh on him, uh?"

"I'll try. No promises."

"So..." I start, after a while, with a teasing tone.

"So?"

"You and Joyce?"

"What about it?" He asks trying to sound casual about it.

"You needed a year in a russian prison to grow some balls?" I tease.

"For the record... I asked her out before being captured. I just got held up" he defends.

"Mmh... I'll ask her" I declare.

"Go ahead" he invites proudly.

I laugh.

"I'm happy for you, Hop" I say "like.. really happy"

"So am I" he replies. "I'm also very proud of you"

"What for?" I ask confused.

"You grew up so much from last time. Not only physically, but you are braver, more confident. Not that you weren't before... but you know. I talked to Dustin and the others, they told me how you defended them. From monsters and from these jocks that hunted your boyfriend down, gotta give me the names by the way, I'm proud of you"

"How do you know about that?" I ask surprised.

"Dustin" he simply answers.

Oh Dusty..

"I got it from you" I shyly say after a moment. "The bravery"

"Nah, you might be a Hopper now, but that courage has always been there. You just needed to believe in yourself a bit more" he chuckles.

"Maybe" I shrug.

"No, no, it's always been there. Trust me. Stop putting yourself down." He gently scolds me.

"I'm trying"

"You better be"

He pulls up to my house and stops the car.

"Thank you" I tell him.

"No problem. It's good to be back to the old habit" he says.

"I..." I start "Uh... when El won't need to hide anymore... maybe.. uh..maybe you two can live here..?"

Silence falls in the car.

"What about your independence, uh?" He tries, to check if I'm messing with him, I think.

" I know how being independent feels like... I think I want to find out what having a family at home feels like.." I look down playing with my rings as I keep talking "there's enough space to gain two more bedrooms... and, uh... it's close to the police station too."

There's silence again so I turn my head to look at Hopper... wiping away some tears.

"Are you crying?" I ask surprised.

"Of course I am!" He replies as a matter of fact and I softly laugh.

"Should I take it as a yes?" I then ask, rhetorically.

"You should. Yes" he tells me with a proud smile. "Now go get some sleep. It's already very late"

I get out of the car with a smile.

"Don't start being the strict father you tend to be!" I warn him.

"You signed the papers, I can be whatever father I want" he jokes.

"The best one. I know" I tell him walking away, not before noticing a surprised and tender smile growing on his face.

I got home and for the first time in a long time I slept like a baby.

No monster to fight, no douchebag to avoid... just a peaceful night of sleep.

"Thanks again for driving us, Argyle" I thank Jonathan's friend, who gently offered to drive me to get Eddie from the hospital.

I'm sitting in the back with Dustin, while Jonathan sits in the front, he and Dustin helped me look around Eddie's destroyed trailer to see what survived and what could be fixed.

One thing in particular seemed to survive just fine. Can't wait to show it to Eddie.

"No problemo" Argyle answers.

"And thank you Jonathan for helping us this morning" Dustin says.

"Don't worry about it, Dustin. Glad I helped." Jonathan smiles.

"You're curious to know Eddie, aren't you?" Dustin asks with a proud grin and I roll my eyes with a laugh.

"Gotta say yes" he laughs.

"I knew it!" Dustin exclaims.

"Why?" I laugh.

"Because one Dustin and Lucas can't seem to shut up about him and two you're family, I need to be sure he's good enough for you" Jonathan explains.

I smile at that, we really are family.

"Are you too gonna threaten him? Get in line I'm afraid" I tell him.

"Who else?" He asks taken aback.

"Well... Steve already gave him the speech, Dustin here wants too, Hop 'gotta meet him'... so... yeah, get in line" I chuckle.

"Can I get in line too?" Argyle asks, as if he asked if the sit is taken or something "you seem cool, dude, and if you're Jonathan's friend, you're my friend too"

"Thank you, Argyle" I laugh.

"Also... Steve doesn't count" Dustin comments.

"Oohh I'll tell him you said that!"

"You won't!"

"I will" I laugh.

We finally get to the hospital and Dustin and I go get Eddie while Jonathan and Argyle stay in the parking lot.

Dustin knocks at the door and when we hear Eddie's voice telling us to come in we enter.

"There he is!" Dustin announces.

Eddie's standing up putting putting on his shirt and smiles brightly when he sees us.

"Thought you never came" he jokes.

"I tried to leave you here, but Dustin missed you too much" I joke walking to him.

"You tried, uh?" He grabs my waist to pull me to him.

"I did, he didn't listen... now I'm stuck with you" I say feigning annoyance.

"Oh poor lady" he mocks.

"Uh... guys" Dustin speaks "do you mind? Not in front of me? Please?"

"Sorry" I say with a small laugh.

"I'm not sorry, but fine" Eddie shrugs and lets go of me.

"Ready to go, then?" I ask him.

"Yeah" he says grabbing a small bag with some clothes we brought him.

We walk to the exit and I feel Eddie walking as close to me as possible.

I notice some of the people there sending him hatred and scared looks. Even if both the chief and police officers dropped any accusations towards him, and even apologised to him, people in this town can't help but still blame him.

Eddie walks looking down, afraid of what he might see if he met one of those stare, so I grab his hand, squeezing it as we walk, and finally I feel him relaxing as we arrive at the parking lot to Jonathan and Argyle.

We all planned a small dinner with everyone, both to have a real first moment of relief and also to give Lucas an excuse to take a break.

We stop to grab some pizza in this little place close to Family Video, so we can pick up Steve and Robin and then go to the Wheeler's house.

As we wait Robin and Steve joins us.

"Hey there!" Robin and Steve greet us.

"Hey, man. How do you feel?" Steve asks Eddie.

"A lot better" Eddie answers.

"That's good because..." Robin starts walking up to Eddie "because if you dare, or even slightly remotely think about hurting my friend... you are completely and utterly done"

"She skipped the line!" Argyle exclaims.

"Trust me... that's definitely not in my plans.." Eddie replies, taken aback.

"Oh god" I mutter "Guys, can you please stop threatening my boyfriend?"

A chorus of 'ooh's emerges from the group and Eddie turns to me with a proud grin.

"Yeah, guys, and stop getting my girlfriend all flustered" he pulls me to him "that's my job"

A fake gag sound escapes Dustin mouth at that, but I know he's the happiest about it.

After a while of chatting as we wait some people come in, we simply acknowledge them and get back at listening to Jonathan and Argyle talking about California, but I can still feel them staring... and unfortunately I know who they're staring at.

I stay close to Eddie, knowing he feels their stare too, and I try to give him as much comfort as I can.

I lock eyes with Steve who looks at me with a questioning look so I slightly nod at the people staring at us.

Surprisingly Steve turns around to look at them.

"Got a problem?" He asks making them jump taken aback. "Go mind your own business, uh?"

He turns back around and motion Jonathan to go on, and I see him sending Eddie a supporting nod to which Eddie answers with a thankful one.

When we finally get the pizza we immediately head to the Wheeler's.

"No way!" Eddie exclaims " the neverending story song? Really?"

He sits with Lucas, Dustin and Will on the floor and they're telling him about last summer. Dustin tries to hid himself, embarrassed.

Me and the rest sit on the couch and armchairs around them, Mike is with El in Hopper's cabin.

"And he sang it beautifully" I chime in.

"Yeah, Henderson, should've recorded it" Steve joins.

"Ooh I wish I could have been there!" Eddie jokes.

"Oh, no, trust me, you don't" Jonathan tell him, with a small chuckle. "It was messy"

"Yeah, I was just acting tough, man" Eddie replies.

"Just like you pretend you're that big coward, when in reality you're not." Dustin tells him.

"Yeah, Munson you're a hero. Take some credits" Steve says with a shrug.

"The whole town thinks otherwise" he sadly mutters.

"We think you are. And we're the smartest persons you could ever meet so... we're right" Dustin states.

"You do?" Eddie asks.

"Of course, love" I rub his shoulders to comfort him, making him turn around.

"Thanks" he sweetly say, then turn to everyone "really, thank you"

"Plus... I guess we are all freaks here. We stick together" Robin states.

"Exactly!" Dustin exclaims ecstatic.

"Always" Lucas agrees.

"Hey, guys" Karen enters the basement. "Can someone come up here and help me bring down some snacks?"

"We already got pizza, mom" Nancy tells her.

"Can't eat that all night, c'mon" Karen encourages.

I look at Nancy rolling her eyes and getting up.

"I'll come too" I say getting up as well.

"Thanks" she says as we go upstairs.

We arrive in the kitchen and start helping Mrs Wheeler with the snacks.

"It's so nice having you all back to hang out like that" she comments "helping each other out, supporting each other"

"That's what family does, isn't it?" I shyly say.

"Exactly" she replies with a big and warm smile.

I look at Nancy, who's also smiling.

"We also got two good additions I think" she jokes.

"Oh yeah, that.. Argyle seems very nice, a bit in his own world, but nice" Karen says "and Eddie" she looks at me.

"Yeah?" I ask confused.

"Is he nice?" I can hear the teasing in her tone.

"I... well.. yeah.. I mean, everyone loves him" I nervously chuckle.

I see Nancy and her mother sharing a knowing look.

"What's that look?" I ask, half amused by their teasing.

"Oh nothing, nothing. Is he nice... to you?"

I look at Nancy, knowing she already told her mother about me and Eddie, but she shrugs innocently.

"Yeah, Mrs Wheeler. He is" I say, with my cheeks heating up when she gives me a knowing look.

"I'm glad to hear it, sweetie" she gently says, as she puts some peanut butter on a piece of bread.

"He can't seem to have eye for nothing else" Nancy chimes in.

"Yeah, okay, stop teasing me" I jokingly complain.

"Alright alright, c'mon there you go, girls. Have fun" Karen hands us the rest of the snacks she made and me and Nancy walk back downstairs.

"We got food!" Nancy announces and we pit all the food on the table with the rest of the pizza.

"Whoa, does she think we're gonna starve to death?" Steve comments.

"Well, I'm not complaining" Robin replies as she grabs one sandwich.

I walk back to sit on my spot behind Eddie, who still sits on the floor.

"I missed you" he says to me and I tenderly smile at him, still shy from his affection.

We went on chatting and telling stories about the Upside Down so both Eddie and Argyle, who is surprisingly excited about it asking the most absurd questions. For example he asked if we used actual dog snacks to catch the demo-dogs... he definitely is the funniest addition to the group.

"Okay guys it's getting late, I hate to kick ypu out, but you're parents would kill me" Karen says as she enter the basement.

"Yeah, we better go too. We got a shift at Family video tomorrow morning" Robin explains.

"Alright, let's go then" Jonathan declares standing up and kissing Nancy goodnight.

We all wish Nancy and her parents goodnight before getting into Argyle pizza van.

The first stop is Dustin house.

"Goodnight guys!" He jumps out.

"Goodnight Dusty" I say.

"Oh! Before I forget.." he turns back around pointing his finger at Eddie.

"Oh god..."

"Yeah?" Eddie pays attention.

"She's my sister, Munson. Okay? You hurt her and I'm gonna, personally, shave your hair, then I'm gonna revive one of those bats and cage you in a small closet with it" he seriously tells him.

"Does anyone else want to threaten me?" Eddie asks.

"Well..." Jonathan starts.

"There's a line, dude" Argyle explains.

"You had to be so nice, uh?" Eddie sarcastically says to me, smiling amused.

"It's not my fault. I tried to make them stop" I defend.

"I'm serious, Munson" Dustin repeats.

"I know, Henderson, I know. And trust me, for the millionth time, I have no intention of hurting this lovely lady" Eddie simply says.

"You better" Dustin glares at him before walking to his house.

"Okay, guys, seriously, now stop threatening him, thank you very much." I chuckle.

"Okay"

"Yeah"

"Sorry" Steve mutters.

"Let's go, please" I ask laughing, basically. They're all so sweet, of course, but poor Eddie.

Once we arrive at my house me and Eddie get out of the van.

"Goodnight" Eddie says grabbing his bag.

"Goodnight and thanks for the ride"

"Y/n, one more thing?" Steve calls "Uh... if you hurt him, I'll... uh... hurt you"

Really?

Everyone laughs.

I think he's trying to make Eddie feel really apart of the group, he gave up on his "non-jealousy" and he wants to make him feel included.

"Ooh.. I'm so scared" I sarcastically say, with a chuckle.

I walk back grabbing Eddie's hand and leading him to the house.

"I appreciate the effort though, Harrington!" Eddie yells at him.

"Anytime!" Steve yells back as they drive off.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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f1nalboys · 1 year

Text

You're Mine - Bo Sinclair x Self Insert

Bo Sinclair x Self Insert

PLEASE READ WARNINGS!

WORD COUNT: 2661

WARNINGS: SELF INSERT GUYS. this is NOT x reader. my name is mentioned legit once and i dont think i described myself physically very much but its not x reader!!!!, nsfw, yandere!bo, canon typical violence, canon typical murder, slight dub-con elements (i wrote it with full consent but considering the circumstances and certain things bo says, using that tag as a safety thing), degradation, creampie, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, outdoor sex, evil yucky bo :3, self harm scars mentioned, bo cuts over pre-existing scar, bo makes SI lick blade clean, predator/prey dynamics, uhhh i think thats it, not proofread,

“And thanks again, Bo, for letting us stay here for the night while you fix the car up! We really appreciate it!” She says with a smile and for a second it’s enough to make Bo forget that Nick was just behind her, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking his shoes off. She was smiling for him, for Bo, and just him. He knew that. He knew since he saw her get out of Lesters shitty truck that she was meant to be his.

“No problem, sugar. I feel much better having you under my roof.” She blushes at the nickname, at the clear declaration of love, and he nods his head at her, flashing a grin. “You have a nice night, alright, sweetheart?”

“You too, Bo.” She shuts the door and Bo makes his way into his bedroom, closing the door tightly, kicking his shoes off, and shutting the light off. He can feel his way around the house completely blind so making his way to his bed, sitting in front of the two-way mirror, it was almost second nature. Bo sits on the edge of his bed and watches with bated breath.

Nick had finally gotten into the bed, shirt off and thrown into a heap on the floor. She, however, was taking her time to carefully undress, folding and placing each item on top of each other. She was undressing like this for Bo. She had to have known that the mirror was two-way, that he could see every curve and fold and scar on her body with how close she was to it.

With a soft sigh he grinds his palm onto his lap, hissing at the friction and at the sight of her ass as she bends over, slipping her pants off. “C’mon, get into bed,” Nick says and Bo scowls; he had forgotten he was there. Nick was covering his eyes, per her request, and she scoffs, pulling on a pair of thin leggings and slipping her bra off. God, her tits, Bo thinks, head tilting to the side slightly.

She had shown up in a tank top and jacket zipped all the way up but the Louisiana heat got to her in the garage and, in what felt like slow fucking motion for him, unzipped her hoodie. Bo dropped the god damn wrench he was holding, the tool clanging against the concrete floor, and for the first time he felt himself blush as he bent down to grab it. She had laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, but she wasn’t laughing at him, he knew that. She wouldn’t do that.

Bo tunes back into the present and sees that the other bedroom is dark now, though he can still make out their bodies in the bed from the light pouring in from under the door. “C’mon, don’t you want to?” He hears Nick say, can see the man's silhouette reaching a hand towards her. She giggles. “We can be quiet.”

“You can be quiet,” She retorts quietly but Bo can hear her sigh and he knows that Nick is touching her. “I have a hard time doing that, remember?”

“Mhm, it’s cute, though. Besides, that creep totally has a thing for you. Why don’t you put a show on for him? Bet he’s watching us right now or some shit.” Bo’s mouth goes dry at the mention of him. Nick had been giving him the stink eye every time he would try to make conversation with her, but he had casually asked if the two of them were together, not that he cared. ‘Nope,’ she had said with a blush and that’s when Bo knew he had her.

“Oh, stop! He’s being nice, lettin’ us stay here; he’s not a creep.” She sighs again and, now that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness more, he can make out her hips moving underneath the blanket. “But we can screw around a bit if you want, j-just, shit! Just need to keep your hand over my mouth.”

Nick laughs and Bo removes his hand from his lap, anger rising in his chest. He was touching his property right in front of him. Knew he was watching and was trying to prove something. Bo stands quietly, eyes trained on her, and can hear her barely muffled moans. She was his. He was supposed to be the one drawing those noises from her, to feel her tighten around his fingers, to hear the wet squelch of his cock plunging inside her. Not Nick. And he wouldn’t, Bo decides as he slips his shoes on and grabs the knife placed onto his dresser. Not anymore.

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

The woods were a maze. She ran as fast as she could, trees and shrubbery cutting into her bare arms. The thin top and leggings she wore were doing nothing to help protect her from the temperature - which had dropped considerably - or the foliage which seemed to reach out and scratch and cut and slow her down on purpose. Her shoes were covered in mud as were her knees and hands when she had gone sprawling just moments ago.

He was chasing her.

Bo loved the chase. He loved running after the victim, hunting them not unlike a predator in the wild, letting them think they had finally escaped him only to crush their hopes in an instant. But she wasn’t a victim. Didn’t she understand that? He runs after her, far more graceful, jumping and dodging over fallen branches and prickly bushes, always right on her heel.

Nick was dead, bleeding out on the streets of Ambrose. She was covered in his blood. After Bo had stabbed him once, twice, three times in the chest and he had crumpled to the ground, she had attempted to stop the bleeding with her hands, screaming and crying, begging him not to die. Bo let her grieve, though he found himself getting annoyed fairly quickly. He had gotten rid of the only other thing keeping her away from him and she wasn’t acting grateful. And then she looked up, looked at him with tear-filled eyes, fear coursing through her veins, and ran.

Her foot catches on a large gnarled root and she falls, holding her hands out to catch herself. The wind is knocked out of her when she lands, slamming into the rock-covered ground, one stabbing into her stomach. She already can’t breathe and now it feels like there’s no oxygen left around her and she can hear the sound of Bo’s approaching footsteps. She knows it’s over.

Forcing herself to flip over she sucks in a raspy breath, eyes widening at the sight of the man approaching. He towers over her, his coveralls darkened with blood, the knife still in his hand. She watches a single drop of blood fall from the tip. Nick’s blood. “Please,” She says, cringing at the way her voice cracks. She was terrified, completely at the mercy of some lunatic she had thought was safe. She had even defended him when Nick called him a creep and now Nick was dead in the streets of an abandoned town and she was stuck in the woods with the man looming over her with a sick sadistic grin plastered onto his face.

But underneath the fear, underneath the disgust, lies something else, something not quite dormant. She can’t tell what it is.

“Please what, sugar? Use your words.”

“Please don’t kill me.” Please make it quick if you do, she almost adds, but then he laughs. He laughs at her and takes three large steps forwards until he's directly over top of her and she does nothing to stop him or to keep him away. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He repeats with a raised eyebrow and her thighs squeeze together subconsciously and she can suddenly pinpoint the feeling she was having. Want. She wanted him, even after everything he had done, even as Nick's blood dried onto her skin. Nodding she bites her lip, swallowing heavily. “Pull your pants down.”

Bo watches completely enamored as she does what he asks, yanking her leggings down, her eyes on him. She doesn’t blink, she doesn’t move, she barely breathes as she waits. She was uncomfortable on the forest floor but she knew better than to complain. Putting the blade of the knife in between his teeth he shoves his coveralls off of his shoulders, the white shirt underneath stained red.

“Heard him touchin’ you,” Bo says, shoving the coveralls down past his hips just enough to pull his already hardening cock out and grabbing the knife from his mouth. His grip tightens around himself as he stares down at her, so helpless. “Heard all those fuckin’ noises you were making. Teasin’ me like a whore, knew I was watching and listenin’ and had to act up, didn’t you?”

“You… you were watching? How?”

“Mirror. Don’t act like you weren’t doing it for me.” He spits and she flinches, hands grabbing at the bottom of her shirt to pull it down over herself. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Bo snaps and her hands let go instantly, balling into fists at her side. They were at the edge of the woods somehow, streetlights from Ambrose illuminating her body on the ground. She thought she had been further away from town but she must have gotten confused, fallen and jumped back up ust to run in the wrong direction.

Still stroking himself, Bo bends down, dragging the blood-soaked knife up her bare legs gently. She whimpers and Bo grins at the noise; He knows she will be making more noises like that soon. “What are you going to do to me?” She whispers, her sobs silent now but the tears still streaming down her face. Bo tsks.

“Better question is what ain’t I gonna do to you, sugar.” She closes her eyes, lips pursing. “You do this to yourself?” Her eyes open and she sees him staring at her thighs and she swallows heavily; she had forgotten about her scars. They were littering her right thigh, pale, almost gone from how long it’s been. She hadn’t even thought about them.

“Yeah, a while ago, though.”

“I see.” Bo’s striking eyes catching hers. For a moment she wonders if he feels sorry for her but then he’s digging the tip of the knife into her flesh, right over one of the existing scars, dragging it across all while never flinching. She hisses, tears pricking at her eyes but she tries her best not to move, worried about how much deeper the knife would go if she did. “Good girl, Brooklyn,” Bo purrs, removing the knife and bringing the blade to her mouth. Nick’s blood was still covering the metal, now mixed with her own. He places it against her lips. “Clean the knife up, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was thick with desire and his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, wetting it just as hers tentatively pokes out, swiping across the blade. Her face screws up at the metallic taste but she continues licking, keeping her eyes on him. The blood pouring from her thigh was warm and she shivers. Bo moves the knife away, finally, and she waits with bated breath to see what else he was going to do, to see how else he was going to touch her.

Why was she excited? Why did she want to see what he was going to do to her? She should be trying to run off, whether he killed her or not no longer mattering; he was dangerous. She knew that, saw it with her own eyes, but yet there she lay. Patiently. Obediently. “Spread your legs.” Bo commands and she does so, a blush crawling up her neck when he whistles. She can see his cock twitch, the streetlight bouncing off of the precum collecting at his tip and she wants to sit up and taste him. “Fuck, so wet. Can’t even deny how bad you want my cock in you, can you, sugar?”

“N-no, I can't...” He grins wildly, clearly having expected a fight. Bo was used to a fight, but he didn’t want her to give him one. “I…” She squeezes her eyes shut, mind reeling over the fact she was really about to say this to him. “I want you to fuck me.” No sooner are the words out of her mouth than he is slotting himself in between her spread thighs, knife held at her throat.

Bo doesn’t say anything, just pulls her underwear, which were thoroughly soaked through, to the side, lines his cock up, and shoves himself inside. She howls in pain at the stretch, grabbing at his biceps with her nails digging into his flesh. “Fuck, so god damn tight-” Bo groans, his hips pressed against her ass, fully seated inside her. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy, just let me right in, though, didn’t it?”

She curses as he begins to move, the knife digging into the soft flesh of her neck ever so slightly, the sting of pain making her feel dizzy. There were so many sensations that it was beginning to be overwhelming; the rocks digging into her back with each thrust that sent her body jolting, the blood cool on her thigh, the sting of the cuts and bruises that littered her body, the ache in her cunt from the lack of time to adjust to Bo’s size, and Bo himself.

He was all over her, tossing the knife to the side, just out of her reach, in favor of wrapping a hand around her throat. His other hand was moving up and down her body, slipping up her shirt and pawing at her tits roughly, dragging his nails down her flesh, grabbing her hips to slam her down onto him harder. Bo was kissing her roughly, too - it seems everything he did was rough - lips dragging against her own and littering her face, hot breath and curse words covering her skin.

“Cl-close,” She groans, shocked at how quickly she had been brought to the edge. It never happened this fast, not once in her life and yet she was quickly approaching - no, more like barreling towards - the hardest and fastest orgasm of her life in the woods, being fucked by a murderer. “Fuck, Bo, I’m gonna-”

“Do it,” He says, hips snapping forwards harshly, his grip on her throat tightening ever so slightly. He moves his head back, lips swollen from kissing her, and Bo stares at her with such an intensity she can feel herself being dragged even closer to the edge. “Fucking cum for me, slut. Show me how bad you want me to fuckin’ fill your tight little cunt up. Go on, bitch, milk my cock.”

Her mouth opens and she cums, the wind knocked out of her completely. Without even meaning too she wraps her legs around Bo’s hips, forcing him deeper inside her, his pelvis flush against her. He barely has enough room to flex his hips and fuck he could die like this, buried to the hilt inside her while she came, her arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at his hair.

Bo cums soon after, head buried in her shoulder, letting go of her neck in favor of holding her hips as tight as he could. “Fuck, there we go,” He says, laughing against her sweaty skin. Bo stays inside her as he looks down at her, surveying her face. She was bruised and a little bloody, his hand covered in the blood from her thigh which trailed up her body, covering her throat and was smeared across her face, but she looked beautiful. “You’re mine.”

“What?” “I said,” Bo’s hips flex and she gasps, overstimulated and exhausted. She can feel him getting hard inside her again and she realizes with both fear and arousal that the two of them weren’t done here. “You’re mine.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x self insert #teehee #nick jones #nick jones house of wax #nick jones x self insert #for like 2 mins #horror #:3

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