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azsazz · 2 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 21)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,850

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Masterlist]

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You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.

Which, granted, has only been one day.

You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.

Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az

He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.

It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.

That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.

His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.

Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.

Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.

She knew you would tell her in good time.

It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.

Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?

Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.

Can I please explain?

And finally:

I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.

You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.

You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.

You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…

Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.

You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall.

It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.

You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on.

You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.

Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.

You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead.

At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.

You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.

“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.

Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”

You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together.

Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”

“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”

You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look.

Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.

“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.

“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.

Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”

You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”

He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.

“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”

“Explain, then,” you answer simply.

Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?”

You quirk a brow.

He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?”

You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…

“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in.

The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad.

But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.

Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.

There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.

“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”

Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element.

You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.

He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.

Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.

“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.”

You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.

Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?”

“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.”

She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.

“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.”

With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?

“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”

You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.

You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.

“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.

“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.

“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”

You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.

Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Not yet.

But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.

Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.

“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”

Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.

“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”

“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.

Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.

Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you.

“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.”

You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.

You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”

It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.

“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.”

You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”

Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.

“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”

You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.

“And if he does buy it?”

Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.”

You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.

Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.

She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.

She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #midnight muse #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au #artist!azriel

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

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First Night | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Your first time with Wanda :)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI), language, age gap (R is 25, Wanda is 38)

Word Count: 4.3K

Masterlist

A/N: This is a Stripper MILF Wanda fic. It takes place during the events of Woman of the Night. Welcome to the Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe!

Wanda was definitely not expecting to see you standing in her kitchen at midnight cooking pasta, but there was a first time for everything.

“Oh god,” she gasped, clutching her chest as she saw you standing in the kitchen.

“Hey babe,” you grinned as you stirred the strands of linguini around the sauce pan, mixing it with the marinara sauce you stole from the cupboard. “How was work?”

“Work was fine how…how did you get in here?” Wanda asked. She dropped her duffle bag on the ground, trying to figure out both why and how you were standing in the kitchen.

“Oh, I climbed in through the window. It was unlocked.”

“Okay, but why?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Am I not allowed to make dinner for my girlfriend?” you asked as you turned off the burner, carefully stirring the pasta so as to not spill any over the side of the pan.

“Grateful as I am, sweetheart, it’s midnight.” She wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as she squeezed you close.

“And?”

“Some of us aren’t in our twenties anymore, Y/N. Some of us like to be asleep before the sun comes up.”

“Do you at least want some food? I have to say, I think this is my best pasta yet.”

“I told you I’d have you whipped into shape in no time. I might not be Italian, but I’m still a pretty good cook if I do say so myself. The boys haven’t gone hungry yet,” she chuckled, tickling your sides as she squeezed you close.

“Hey now!” You jumped as she tickled you, whipping the spoon out of the pan and speckling the counter with the red sauce. “Keep that up and no pasta for you!”

“Oh shut up,” Wanda rolled her eyes as she grabbed the spoon from your hand. “You’re lucky the boys aren’t home this weekend. They would’ve ambushed you with their nerf guns if they heard someone break into the house.”

“Well if I actually met them…”

“Y/N, I told you. Not yet. It’s too soon.” Wanda’s tone hardened as she dished pasta into her bowl.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I want to meet them, Wanda. You talk about them so much that I feel like I practically know them! Besides, I think Tommy needs to have his butt whooped at Mario Kart so he’ll stop being a dick to Billy about it.”

Wanda laughed as she sat down at the table, shaking her head. It had only been two months since the two of you made your relationship official and neither of you were interested in rushing things, Wanda not wanting to introduce a new man into the boys’ lives so soon and you because this was your first real relationship since high school. Sure, you dated a girl for a few months your junior year of high school and went out on some random dates throughout college, but you’d never had anything this serious before. While you enjoyed spending time with Wanda, there was still a lot you’d never experienced and you didn’t want to rush in too fast.

“I know. You’ll meet them, I promise. I plan on keeping you around, mister. We’re a package deal.” She took a bite of the pasta, blowing on it to cool it off before putting a forkful in her mouth. “You know, that’s actually not half bad.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.” Wanda giggled as she helped herself to another bite.

You offered to take the bowl from Wanda once she was done eating, cleaning up and packing away the leftovers as she went to the living room to pick out a show for the two of you to watch.

“Dick Van Dyke again? Wanda, have you watched any shows from this century?” you asked only half-jokingly as you plopped down on the sofa next to her.

“I need something mindless after work tonight. And it’s my house so if you don’t like it-”

“Hey, what’s fine with you is fine with me.” You put your hands up defensively.

“And I wanna be the big spoon, too.” She reached her arms out to you, practically begging to snuggle you as she laid on the couch. You chuckled as you curled up into her chest. As much as you loved holding Wanda, it was nice being held for a change. She brought you an immense sense of comfort as she wrapped her arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

The titles rolled by, the screen flashing with black and white images. You felt Wanda’s body soften up as she immersed herself into the distraction of the sitcom world, the stress of the day melting off her. Try as you might to concentrate on the show, you were distracted. Wanda’s body was intoxicating. Once you got a taste of it you didn’t want to stop. Snuggling up against her, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each breath and the way her heart beat up against it, made you want to lose yourself in her presence. So as she stared at the screen, you began to tease your fingers up and down her thigh.

“Can I help you?” she laughed as she felt your hand moving on her leg.

“Maybe…” You looked up into her stunning green eyes, her pupils dilating as you trailed your fingers higher up her leg. You could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she looked down at you. Using her thigh to push yourself up, you turned your body so that you were face to face with her, your lips mere inches from each other. As you stared into each other’s eyes, both of you waiting to see who would make the first move, you reached up to cup her face with your hands before leaning in to kiss her.

Kissing Wanda was a religious experience. Her lips were heavenly, softer than anything you’d ever experienced. You loved the way she practically melted into you when you captured your lips in hers. These kisses were soft and sweet. Her lips were filled with a tenderness that made you weak at the knees. You felt her smile into you as you explored her, gently nibbling on her bottom lip as you helped her lean back into the pillow. The TV show was long forgotten as Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close on top of her.

“Mmmm I missed this,” she sighed as you kissed your way down her jaw to her neck. You bit down on a sensitive spot, drawing a moan from her as you licked and sucked over the tender point and marked her as yours. “What are the boys going to think when they see I’ve got a hickey on my neck?”

“That you’re all mine,” you answered. “All mine.” You kissed your way back up her neck, working your way to her lips as you took them greedily. These kisses were different. They were more passionate, more intense. You ran your hands up and down Wanda’s back, eventually running them up under her shirt.

“Y/N,” she breathed as she panted for breath. You barely gave her a second to recover before slamming your lips against hers, brushing your tongue over her bottom lip, begging for permission to explore her mouth. She enthusiastically obliged, her tongue crashing into yours as you explored each other deeply for the first time. As you continued to kiss her, Wanda’s hands roamed from your back to your front, trailing down your stomach until they came to your belt. The feeling of your buckle being undone snapped you back to reality as you abruptly broke away from her.

“Woah, stop, stop,” you said. Suddenly everything felt too hot and too fast and too much all at the same time.

Wanda’s eyes grew worried with concern, her brow furrowing as she looked up at you. “What’s wrong?”

You gulped nervously as you looked down at her, sitting back on your heels to put space between the two of you. “Nothing. It’s…nothing, I’m fine. Sorry.”

“Sweetheart, something’s wrong. Did I do something?”

“No. It’s…I, Christ this is so stupid, I’m a…I’ve nev-I’ve never had sex before,” you blurted. You felt the heat rising in your face as you blushed a deep shade of red. Wanda’s eyes widened at your revelation. “I mean I got a one-off handjob from my high school girlfriend when I was sixteen, but that’s it.”

“Oh.” Wanda’s voice was small. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking exactly as she stared at you. Her head cocked to the side, a signature sign that she was deep in thought.

“Sorry. Umm, you know what? I’ll just-I’ll just go. Just forget everything I said, okay?” You had never felt so humiliated before. There was no way you could do anything with Wanda now. You could barely look her in the eye with how embarrassed you felt.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your hand. “It’s okay. We can wait until you’re ready. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do. Ever. I’m not mad or anything.”

“No I want to, I really want to. I’m just nervous. I don’t want it to be bad for you.”

Wanda flashed the smile that made you fall even harder for her. “It’s okay to be nervous. I haven’t slept with anyone since Vision left so yeah, I’m nervous, too.”

“I, umm, I didn’t bring a condom,” you sheepishly admitted.

“I’ve got some upstairs.” You let out a small chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just funny imagining you at the store with your reading glasses on trying to read the descriptions on all of the boxes.”

Wanda rolled her eyes as she sat up. “You’re adorable. Now come on, let’s go upstairs. I am not letting you lose your virginity on this sofa.”

Wanda practically dragged you up to her bedroom and shut the door behind you. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the lock click into place. “Come on,” she whispered as she pulled you to the bed. “We can do whatever you want.” Your mouth felt like it was filled with cotton as endless possibilities of what you and Wanda could do together flashed through your brain. You tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Can I take your clothes off?” You nodded enthusiastically. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say it for me.”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed as you pulled your shirt up and off. She shook her head as her hands reached for your belt. You grabbed her face and kissed her, pulling her close as you felt your jeans get the slightest bit looser. As she unzipped them, she made sure to run her hand over your bulge, palming it through your jeans. You moaned into her mouth at the throbbing sensation that was building in your pants.

“Nice undies,” she teased. Horrified, you realized that you were wearing your Pikachu boxer briefs.

“I’m gonna be completely honest, Wanda. I was not anticipating you seeing me in my underwear tonight.”

“They’re cute, but I think they’ll look cuter on the floor.” She hooked her thumbs around the waistband, dropping to the floor as she dragged them down your legs. Your erection, absolutely throbbing, sprang to attention as it was freed from the confines of your clothes. Standing there completely naked, you suddenly felt the need to cover up. As Wanda looked up at you from her knees, she sensed your trepidation. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah, j-just give me a second.”

“Lie down on the bed, okay? I’ve got an idea.” You had no idea what Wanda was thinking as you crawled onto the bed. As you did that, she began undressing herself.

“What are-?”

“Oh look, we’re both naked,” she smirked, tossing her panties behind her. Your jaw dropped as you saw her naked for the first time. The sight of her bare breasts in front of you was mesmerizing, as was the rest of her body. She was a goddess.

“Wow. Wanda, wow. You’re gorgeous, baby.” Wanda blushed a deep crimson as she crawled onto the bed next to you.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome,” she teased. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” you gulped. Slowly, Wanda trailed her hand down from your chest down to your stomach and then to your cock, wrapping a loose grip around it. “Oh fuck,” you groaned. The sensation of her hand moving up and down your shaft was familiar: you’d jacked off to the thought of her countless times. But the feeling of someone else’s hand doing it was unreal.

“Somebody’s sensitive.” Your cock twitched under Wanda’s ministrations, precum leaking from your tip as she used it to lube you up.

“Christ, just blow me already,” you groaned as you threw your head back into the pillow. The words came from your mouth absentmindedly. They were crude and vulgar. In your pleasure-filled haze, you weren’t totally aware of what you were saying. The second you realized your ask, your face flushed red with embarrassment. Wanda’s hand stopped abruptly as she looked down at you half-amused.

“Alright,” she smirked. Before you knew what was happening Wanda crawled to the other side of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face as she lowered her head.

The feeling of Wanda’s mouth enveloping the entirety of your cock immediately tore a loud groan from your chest. She swirled her tongue over your head, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock. Her cheeks hollowed as her head bobbed up and down. You threw your head back into the pillow again, unable to watch the utterly sinful sight unfolding right in front of you.

“Holy shit,” you gasped. Cherry red lips closed softly around your head, sucking as she reached down to squeeze your balls. For a woman who hadn’t been with another man since her husband left, you couldn’t tell that she was out of practice. Wanda smiled as you whined, your dick hitting the back of her throat. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she gagged on your length. It was undoubtedly the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your entire life.

Your pulse quickened as the ache in your groin grew stronger with every little movement. The pleasure was dizzying, the familiar coil in your belly growing tighter by the second. As Wanda worked wonders with her mouth, your body became unrestrained. You grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down as you thrust your hips into her face. Drool dripped down your cock as you stuffed your length deep into Wanda’s mouth. Her eyes screwed shut as she choked and gagged. You moaned in response, your fingers kneading her fiery red hair.

“Wanda, I’m gonna cum,” you croaked as you felt a blissful warmth spread over your body. She smirked against your cock as your hips bucked faster. Her tongue swirled and lapped over every single inch as she enthusiastically massaged the parts left exposed. Seconds later the coil snapped and your body exploded in ecstasy. Strands of hot cum shot down Wanda’s throat, which she swallowed greedily. No drop was left wasted as she released your with a pop, fine strands of saliva and cum connecting her to you.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath. You closed your eyes as you watched galaxies and explosions appear under your closed lids.

“Y/N?” You opened your eyes and Wanda’s face was hovering above yours.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I regain feeling in my legs,” you joked as you looked up into those adorable emerald eyes. The beamed as she gazed down at you, caressing your flushed cheek with her soft hand.

“You’re adorable,” she cooed, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I take it that was better than that handjob from your high school girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned. Wanda chuckled as she kissed you, her soft lips full of passion and tenderness against your own.

“What now, lover boy?” she teased.

“I wanna taste you,” you breathed, pulling her head to yours before you kissed her softly. “All of you.”

“Mmmm I like the sound of that,” Wanda giggled against your lips. She rolled the two of you over, landing on her back as you let the weight of your body rest atop her.

Your lips collided again and again as the anticipation of what was to come thrummed deep in your soul. Wanda’s breath was shaky against your own as you slowly teased a hand down her body before resting it in the heat between her legs.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear. Her eyes fixed on nothing on the ceiling, she nodded absentmindedly and reached her hand down to cover yours. Her long svelte fingers pushed yours over her already swollen clit, circling them gently over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Like that,” she croaked. You continued the motion as she released you. Soft whimpers escaped her lips as you focused on circling her clit. She grabbed onto your biceps, digging her nails into your flesh while you kissed her neck. “Oh baby that’s it,” she gasped. “Just a little more pressure and-” Wanda’s breath hitched as you pushed on her clit. As you circled it, you heard the lewd sounds of her wetness teasing just how aroused she was.

“Fuck, Wanda. You’re so wet.” She groaned as you teased your hand lower, rubbing your fingers through her swollen lips and teasing her slit.

“I want your mouth,” she begged as she grabbed your head and pushed it down your body. You crawled down her body, kissing every inch of her exposed torso as you slunk down to her pelvis. She squirmed as you planted hot open mouth kisses over her exposed flesh. Pressing her thighs apart, you could feel the heat radiating from between them.

“Wanda, what-?”

“Whatever you want.” Her voice was dripping with arousal. You weren’t quite sure where to start as you stared down at her glistening cunt. Taking a deep breath, you lowered your mouth to her clit. Your lips encircled the bulbous spot, sucking and licking in a manner similar to the way she sucked your cock. The loud groan that escaped her lips made you think you were doing something right. Wanda’s hips bucked against your face as you continued your alternating licking and sucking on her most sensitive spot.

Pushing her thighs down further, you lowered your head, licking a stripe from her clit all the way down her slit. Her arousal coated your tongue and you found yourself getting drunk on the taste of her. You teased her slit with your tongue, pressing it as far inside her as you could.

“Shit,” she groaned, grabbing your head and pushing it hard into her pelvis. You smiled as you lapped at her. The activity that once filled you with anxiety and hesitation now filled you with a sense of pride as you brought Wanda closer and closer to her orgasm. “Need something inside,” she mumbled. Kissing your way back to her clit, you tentatively inserted a finger inside her needy cunt. She shuddered at the sudden intrusion. You slowly began thrusting your hand in and out of her tight hole. “Not like that,” she suddenly grabbed your hand as you pulled out.

“Am I hurting you?” Fear stopped you dead in your tracks as you looked up at Wanda with concern.

“Just curl your fingers, don’t thrust, keep going, I’m so close, baby.” Wanda was beside herself with pleasure, her body closer to the edge.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just fuck me.” Wanda shoved your head back down. You went right to work, rolling her clit around with your tongue as you curled your finger inside. Her walls tightened around you, making it difficult to move within her.

“I’m cumming. Oh, I’m cumming!” Wanda gasped as you felt her walls spasm around your hand. Her body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook every inch of her. Loud moans escaped her lips as her eyes screwed shut, her mouth gaping open with unspeakable pleasure.

As Wanda’s spasms calmed, you pulled out of her. Her walls squeezed around nothing as it adjusted to the sudden lack of intrusion. Wanda was flat on her back, completely blissed out at the first orgasm she received at the hands of another person in a very long time. Masturbation only did so much for her. The level of intimacy and trust required for someone to bring her to such levels of ecstasy was something on a completely different level.

“Wanda? Are you okay, babe?” Her eyes were glazed over as she needed, her hands tracing through your hair.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I’ll take that as a complement,” you joked before kissing her. You stared down at her, at the face of the woman you were slowly falling in love with, and wanted nothing more than to make her feel so unbelievably loved. The face that gazed back up at you mirrored the love and adoration that you felt for her. For the first time in a very long time, you were grateful for the fact that your first time was with someone who meant so much to you.

“Do you want to keep going?” Wanda whispered, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Mmhmm. Do you?” She nodded. “Where’d you put the condoms?” Wanda motioned to the nightstand next to her. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed one. “Umm, I’ve never-”

“That’s okay. Let me help.” Wanda grabbed the small wrapper from you, tearing it open before grabbing your already erect cock. Heart pounding and breath shaking, you watched her roll it down the length of your shaft. “How’s that?”

“It feels weird, but it’s not too tight or anything like that.”

“Good.” She readjusted herself on the bed, planting her feet on the bed and bending her knees to give you full access to her already dripping pussy. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. Positioning yourself over her, you lined your cock up with her entrance. Your body trembled with anticipation, sweat beading on your forehead as you suddenly felt yourself overwhelmed with nervousness. Wanda, once again sensing your hesitation, reached down and helped guide you inside her.

Wanda’s pussy was unfathomably warm, wet and tight. It took all your concentration to not blow your load right then and there. You groaned as you felt her squeeze gently around you. “Fuck,” you moaned, burying your head in the crook of her neck.

“Mmm, you feel so good, Y/N,” she sighed. It took a moment to get yourself together, but once you did you began to slowly thrust yourself in and out. Gasps and moans filled the room as Wanda’s drenched cunt squelched with every roll of your hips.

“Wanda,” you groaned. “Oh, Wanda.”

“Don’t stop, Y/N. Please don’t stop.” Wanda’s mewls spurred you on. You pushed yourself up, leaning over her as you filled her up at a faster pace. The bed groaned under your exertion.

“Baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you gritted through clenched teeth. The newness of being engulfed inside Wanda’s velvety walls was driving you to the end far faster than you wanted.

“That’s okay,” she breathed. “Just keep going. I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.”

Wanda’s words ignited a primal fire inside you. Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, you bore down on your efforts. Your hips bucked wildly into Wanda. She moaned as you buried yourself deep inside her, filling her cunt in all the right ways as she began rubbing circles around her swollen clit. The bed creaked as you fucked her relentlessly. The faster your hips moved, the hotter the fire in your belly burned until you realized you were dangerously close to the point of no return.

“I’m gonna-” You were interrupted by Wanda reaching her free hand up to your neck and pulling you down to capture your lips in hers. As she kissed you passionately, you tumbled over the edge again. Her lips stifled your moan as you filled the condom with your seed. The feeling of your erection throbbing inside her, coupled with her hand on her clit, sent Wanda over the edge as she practically screamed through her orgasm. Her walls squeezed you tightly. You were practically seeing stars.

“Oh fuck. Wanda. Fuck, oh fuck. Oh God, Wanda,” you panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm worked their way through your body. Your pants turned into laughs as she began laughing with you.

“Was that okay?” Wanda asked with a chuckle.

“Okay? I don’t think ‘okay’ is the word I used to describe what just happened.”

“You have a better word, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I love you,” you mumbled absentmindedly as you collapsed onto her sweaty body.

“...What?”

“I…sorry, is it too soon? Did I just make this weird?” Wanda answered with a searing kiss, the corners of her mouth curved upward as she grabbed your face.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she sheepishly admitted, her face flushing bright crimson.

“God, I love you, Wanda. I love you so much.” Your last sentence was interrupted with kisses between every word.

“I love you, too, Y/N. Don’t ever let me go.”

#wanda maximof #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #self reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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luvrsbian · 1 year

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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor. thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)

MASTERLIST ✿ PART TWO

Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year.

He really liked his job.

Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited. 

But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young. 

Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting.

He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to.

There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot. 

The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.)

It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters. 

Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch. 

He couldn’t wait.

Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year. 

He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around. 

He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years. 

This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied. 

Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office. 

Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him.

He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows. 

There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl.

Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh.

“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.”

The footsteps stop.

“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?”

That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice.

Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this.

“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with.

“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks.

“Where’s Virginia?”

Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy. 

“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls. 

“Why?”

You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.”

You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat.

Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again.

“Who are you?”

Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name.

He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Edward, right?”

He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.”

Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head.

“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.”

You smile. He smiles back.

Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar. 

It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it. 

You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens. 

Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed. 

The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in. 

Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese. 

Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert.

He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched.

“Have you always lived in Hawkins?”

You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him.

“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk.

“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.”

Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.)

“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace. 

“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?”

He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him.

“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’

“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse. 

He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him.

“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off.

Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age. 

Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue. 

You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls. 

Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You.

“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk.

“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles.

“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.”

He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door. 

“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.”

Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left. 

“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide.

the clean up crew (taglist): @avobabe87 @bakugouswh0r3

comment or ask to be added to the clean up crew!

#ʚ by gwen ɞ #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #tcu #school janitor eddie x school nurse reader

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stxuxrniolochris · 2 months

Text

fake dating P4 - Chris sturniolo

P1 P2 P3

slow burn ( i think ), your both seniors(18), also i live in Ireland so idk how American like years in school works so just go with it, use of y/n, half based on to all the boys I’ve loved before but not really, highschool!chris

Summary ~~you both need to get peoples attention but you might just end up catching eachothers~~

Y/n pov

I walked downstairs to the kitchen still thinking about last night. Was I too harsh? I mean the plan was to get Amelia back, so it’s good that she’s texting him. But why did it make me mad, I shouldn’t care about his dating life. I should’ve never done this whole fake relationship.

I sighed as I sat down at the table scrolling on my phone. A few minutes went by and I heard footsteps coming upstairs. Chris. My stomach flipped thinking about what he was going to say. “Hey” he sighed as he sat down beside me. “Hi.” I said with a half-smile. “So about last night..” he starts. Oh god here it goes. “Sorry I got mad i was just stressed and I took it out on you, I know it’s weird. And I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you.” He says fast like he practiced before he came up. “Chris it’s honestly fine, you can text who you want and that’s none of my business, your my best friend and i was looking out for you, but if u want to text her, that’s ok.” I say half honest.

Chris pov

“Chris it’s honestly fine, you can text who you want and that’s none of my business, your my best friend and i was looking out for you, but if u want to text her, that’s ok.”

Best friend. Why did it feel weird when she called me her best friend. Why did it kind of hurt. I brushed it off and pulled her into a hug. She immediately hugged me back and I heard her sigh a bit. Was she still upset?

“Y/n/n?” I ask pulling away. “Yea?” She asks back. “You mean a lot to me, you know that?” I don’t know why I was getting sappy I just wanted her to know I care. “You mean more to me than you will ever know, love you.” She smiled. Her smile, it always made me feel better. “Love you too.” I smiled back. “So there’s a party tonight, how bout we go and make up for not going yesterday.” She suggests. I smile. “Yea sure.”

~At the party-

Y/n pov

Me and Chris, hand in hand, walk up to the party. We stop at the door and he turns to me. “You ready?” He asks. “Yep.” I say nervous. I knew Ben and Amelia were going to be there and I was a bit scared. He gave my hand a light squeeze as we walked in.

He said hi to a few of his friends and I just awkwardly stood there. I wasn’t used to these parties, they were full of hockey players and cheerleaders. They were more Chris’ scene.

“Hey, y/n.” I turn around at my name being called. Becca. Amelia’s best friend. I smile and walk over. Their whole group was sitting there. “Come sit with us.” Becca beams at me. I sit on a couch opposite Amelia and Becca, beside their other friends. “So Chris Sturniolo?” Becca says not really asking, clearly trying to get stuff out of me for Amelia. “Yup.” I say trying to show confidence. “Have you guys done anything?” I’m a bit taken a back by her straight up wierd question. “What..?” I say confused, before Amelia speaks up for the first time. “Cmon Becca they haven’t done anything.” The balls on her. “Oh yea, and how do you know that Amelia?” I scoff. “Because I know y/n y/l/n and I know Chris Sturniolo, now excuse me i have to go to the bathroom.” She says while standing up. Me and Amelia used to be good friends in like 8th grade before she randomly started hating me and making fun of me. That’s why I hated her so much.

Chris pov

I see y/n talking to Amelia. What the hell. I know they used to be friends but I also know they don’t like each other anymore. I walk to the bathroom to get a break from everything. I’m washing my hands and I hear someone opening the door. “Uh someone’s in here.” I shout over the music, but they continue to come in. Ameila. She smiles as she walks over to me. “Hi Chris.” She says while leaning on the sink. “Hey.” I reply. “Saw you with y/n, I guess I always knew you two had something going on.” She smiles. What is she trying to do. “What do you want Ams.” I sigh. This is what I wanted, but why did it feel weird. “What? I cant just talk to you.” She pouts. “You always can.” I admit. Making her smile. Don’t get me wrong I love her smile, but y/ns is different, y/ns makes me happy. “What’s this?” She questions playing with the hair tie on my wrist. “It’s y/ns.” I say as she takes it off my wrist. “Cmon Amelia give it back.” “Oo full name your serious, but I think I’m gonna keep it for awhile, k?” I sigh. Y/n wears that scrunchie every day. She says a few more unimportant things before walking out.

Y/n pov

Me and Chris are walking home, since it wasn’t far and didn’t want to bother Matt. “I talked to Amelia tonight.” He speaks up. “Oh yeah, how’d it go.” I ask, looking at him. “Fine, she said that she always knew there something going on between us, but it was ok.” He explains. What did she mean always something going on between us? “Well that’s good, at least you two talked.” I smile. He sigh kind of loud. “What your not happy?” I question. “No- I don’t know, it just felt weird, like I didn’t want to be there. I don’t know why though, I mean that’s what I wanted but- I don’t know.” He said cutting himself off. But what? “She was kind of flirty I guess.” He finishes

We reach his house and walk inside. We talk to Matt and Nick for a bit before heading up to his room. We sit on his bed and put on a movie. “Hey Chris?” “Yea, whatsup?” He replies. I take a deep breath in. “I don’t think we should keep doing this fake dating thing.” I breathe out. His face sort of dropped and he paused the movie. “What why.” He asks with a worried tone. “Well, Amelia got jealous and you talked to her and everything, and I don’t really like Ben that much, so.. it’s kind of worked out so what’s the point of continuing.” I say scared of his reaction, I knew him inside out but we’ve never done this before so i didn’t know what would happen. “No y/n just for a small bit more, it’s only been a couple of days, I need more time.” He says. Why does he want to keep going, he got Amelia to talk to him. “ I don’t know Chris…” I sigh. “Please y/n.”

How do you tell your best friend you can’t keep fake dating him because you’re scared you’ve developed actual feelings for him and don’t want to just fake it anymore. You can’t. So you fake break up with them.

a/n: sorry there’s so much pov changes in this! Also sorry it’s not that long

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo imagine #chris x female #chris x y/n #chris sturniolo virgin #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt x fem reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

cw: fluff. selfship content. pro!hero-deku. fem!reader is not a working pro-hero.

As promised by your husband's public relations manager, you're in a make-up chair, getting dolled up for an interview by a heavy handed stylist by 9:30 am, and sitting in the admittedly comfy but also stress-inducing couch on the nation's leading talk show host's set by 10.

It’s a silly way to spend your anniversary, but it seems like this had become a rite of passage (especially on this particular series), to show up as some kind of proof that a successful married life is possible for the nations’ leading Heroes. Katsuki had done so just months before, and you’d laughed at how ridiculously smitten he was for his partner, and now here you were, looking just as sheepish before noon.

"So Deku, you're telling us you and your lovely lady have been married for an entire year now! A year is a long time, isn't it?"

You wonder if the woman's unnaturally wide smile and bright cherry red lips are just a striking facial feature or Quirk-related, like she was designed for television. Her teeth are perfect and way too close to your face as she leans in, legs crossed elegantly.

Izuku doesn't look half as nervous as you, and it shocks you how far he's come, given his unintentional Roblox impression in the second year of high school, the subject of many nostalgic jokes. His posture is relaxed as he sinks into the loveseat, an arm draped affectionately around your shoulders. Excessively casual for a Japanese morning show, you think, but moving out of the way wouldn't look too good now. You’ll have to match his energy, you think bashfully.

There's time for polite applause and congratulations, and he waves at the studio audience while you try to keep your face from warming as you smile in tandem.

"Honestly? It flew by," Izuku says, eyes bright as he moves his gaze from the interviewer to you. "I'm still reeling from the fact that she said yes, to be quite honest!"

There's a well-timed 'awww' from the crowd and the interviewer that has you wanting to cover your face. You playfully punch his shoulder and he grins at you, which makes the interviewer laugh politely as well.

"Should have said no, methinks," you tease.

He pouts and squeezes your hand. "Would you really?"

“Of course not, silly,” you whisper.

The interviewer beams and proceeds with questioning.

“For you, considering that you’ve so quickly retired from Hero work, what is it like knowing that your partner is still mostly on the front lines?”

You expected this question, and answer it with a practiced swiftness.

“Stressful, to say the least. But he’s under contractual obligation to come home in mostly one piece and so far he hasn’t disappointed me,” you joke. It lands and there’s a bit of swelling of pride in your belly that you haven’t embarrassed yourself or him. Izuku’s thumb strokes at the back of your hand.

You are still in love and it hasn’t changed, wavered or lessened in any way over the past year. But it has transformed, you realize now as you shift just a little bit closer. Analyze as much body language as you want, you think to yourself. It doesn't matter, as long as we're together.

“And for you, what does it feel like to know someone’s waiting on you in a different way than your many fans and the people of this good country?”

Izuku measures his words as he says this next part, scratching his chin. You look to him, perhaps too eagerly, to hear his response.

You’ve always relegated yourself to one of many, even if his vows were to you, for obvious reasons, but sometimes… sometimes you needed to hear it. Something that doesn’t alienate others but reminds you that you’re indispensable.

His hand slips from besides you and takes your other one so that both are in his as he squeezes.

“Sometimes, visualizing people makes it easier to keep fighting… and somehow my thoughts always bring up her face. That has not changed since I fell in love with her.”

If there’s anything else that is said in this interview, it’s nothing compared to this. You talk of home life, and balancing careers, and all the silly things that entertain housewives on daytime television, but it’s hard to forget that he’s told you, despite a year of tender love and trials, it’s something so simple that keeps the two of you going.

You’re in his thoughts as much as he is in yours.

As you lay in bed that night, you think of the last few questions you were asked.

“when you think of peace, what do you envision?”

“a quiet morning, waking up with her in my arms.”

“and you, when you think of joy, what do you think of?”

“his laugh. when he really laughs, it’s like it fights its way out of him and seizes you into a big hug. not that he doesn’t follow soon right after.

it’s the type of laugh that can keep you warm on a cold night.

it’s the type of happiness that’s infectious... one that you can’t take away, nor would you ever dream to.”

Izuku pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

“Another year.”

You hold him closer, legs entangling with his until you’re one.

“And many more.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mimi's izu <3 #mimidoriya anniversary #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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fluffansmut-old · 1 year

Text

Like you haven’t done that

Summary: You’re the second Byers child and the middle sister in the Byers trio. Most of the time your brothers are great, but when you start to sneak around, dating Eddie Munson and planing r-rated activities with him, your big brother suddenly becomes more annoying than ever.

Even though you’re not doing anything that you know that he hasn’t already done himself.

Content warnings: Eddie x Byers!reader, protective & annoying Jonathan, the Byers kids (including reader) have daddy issues, mentions of sexual activity, mentions of birth control options, hickies, slightly awkward sex-talk.

A/N: realised I hadn’t posted this to tumblr, and since it’s all out on AO3 already I’ve decided to drop all three parts on tumblr right away.

Word count: 4227

AO3 | Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3

It was friday morning in march-85.

You were sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with your brothers this particular morning, when the phone rang.

Hoping it to be who you thought It were you sprung out of your chair to answer.

“Why is she so eager to answer the phone nowadays? Will asked Jonathan who shook his head in response.

“No idea, but something is definitely up.”

You answered the phone.

“Byers”

“Hello sweetheart” you heard on the other side.

“Hi babe”

“I was just calling to ask if everything is arranged for tonight or if I need to kick Wayne and his poker buddies out of the trailer for the night” Eddie said, you could hear in his voice how excited he was.

“It’s arranged, Will is playing DnD at wheeler’s, Jonathan is studying at the library with Nancy and mom is working late so she won’t be home until at least 11.30.” You confirmed.

You and Eddie had carefully planned out the whole thing. The two of you had been trying to find a moment to yourselves, a moment to have sex and not worry constantly about being quiet or interrupted. (Or caught for that matter, Joyce didn’t know that you were sexually active or with Eddie for that matter)

so now when all the people living in your house were otherwise occupied, you jumped on it.

“Great, then I’ll se you at school gorgeous.” Eddie said, you could clearly visualise the smirk on his face.

“See you, babe, I love you” you said.

“Love you too.” Eddie replied then the line when silent.

When you turned around to return to your breakfast you were met by your big brother, who was leaning up against the wall giving you a pointed look.

“Who is babe?” He asked.

“None of your concern” you replied, walking towards the table.

Jonathan was of course not ready to drop it there.

What do you have planned that mom doesn’t know about?” He asked. Sitting down across from you at the table again.

“It’s nothing Jonathan, nothing.” You said, trying to put an end to the conversation. You didn’t want Will to hear you argue.

“Okay well if it’s nothing, then why are you telling babe that you are home alone tonight? I thought you were gonna study with Stacy?” Jonathan said, calling your bluff.

“First and foremost, I am too, going to study with Stacy tonight. But stop eavesdropping on my phone calls! Is nothing fucking private in this house anymore?” You exclaimed as you rose from the table and put the bowl and spoon in the sink.

“Don’t swear infront of Will, and I’m not buying anything so tell me what you are up to.”

Will who still was stained since your parents divorce hated fights in general and tried to help.

“Hey Jonathan it’s okay, Dustin says shit all the time, I’m used too it?”

“There see, he’s used too it.” You said

“And besides, you aren’t my parent and you cannot tell me what to do!”

Jonathan huffed.

“I am still one and a half year older than you” he said.

“I’m riding my bike to school today” you said, refusing to have this conversation continuing on all the way to school.

You ruffled Will’s hair when you passed his chair and shot him a

“Have a good day kiddo” before you walked out the door.

The first time you saw Eddie that day was when he walked into the cafeteria as you were walking out. He grabbed your arm and spun you close to him.

At first you got a little frightened but when you realised that it was Eddie you smiled. He pressed his forehead against yours and you locked eyes with his soft, dreamy ones.

“Hello gorgeous” he said.

“Hello handsome” you replied and kissed him.

“I can’t wait for tonight” he said. ”the thought of what we are about to do later has been consuming my mind all day”

“What are these thought consuming ideas of yours ?” You asked.

His eyes grew impossibly wider with lust and he said,

“I don’t think those words are appropriate on school property” he said with a smirk, teasing you.

“Are you really one to talk about what’s appropriate, you know since you´re known for trampling all over the tables in the cafeteria when it suits you.”

His smirk grew even wider when you called him out on his bullshit and then he leaned in closer and whispered,

“Let’s just say; I want to ravish you” he said.

“Oh please do” you replied. Giving him a kiss.

“You want a preview?” He asked, and before you even thought it through you nodded and said;

“Yes!”

Right where your collarbone meets your neck he gave you a hickey.

When he pulled away you heard him gasp a little.

“Holy shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it so obvious.” He said and ran his fingers over it.

“Is it really big?” You asked, now slightly nervous about the questions that your brother would have for you.

“Bigger than I was going for” he said.

“I’m sorry sweetheart”

“It’s fine, I just gotta hide it from Jonathan” you said.

You gave Eddie a goodbye kiss for now and you parted ways, he went into the cafeteria and you and Stacy went towards to the bathroom to try and cover up the hickey.

On the way there you did a quick search of the surroundings, just to make sure Jonathan weren’t watching.

What you didn’t notice was the king of Hawkins high himself, that saw the whole thing play out.

And when Steve later met Nancy and Jonathan outside of science class things didn’t go as you planned.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” He said, smiling at the pair.

“Nothing much, just trying to get through this school year.” Nancy replied with a small sigh, gesturing towards the pile of paper she had in her arms. “How are you?”

“Same, just trying to survive until graduation. “ he said, and then he remembered what he witness earlier “Hey Byers, I saw your sister with that Munson kid before, when did they start dating?”

The question threw Jonathan a little... he wasn’t stupid, he knew that babe most likely were someone that you were in fact dating? But, that it was Eddie Munson made him feel uneasy.

“You aren’t fucking with me now, are you Harrington?” Jonathan asked.

“Wait you didn’t know?” Steve said, slightly surprised.

“Are you positive that it was Eddie Munson?” Nancy asked sensing the tension from Jonathan.

“I’m certain , that cult like t-shirt that he always wears, leather jacket, and jeans vest, cos apparently that’s something you can wear at the same time. “ Steve said, describing the eccentric kid they all had seen in the cafeteria countless of times before. “It was him.”

“And you are sure that it was my sister?” Jonathan then asked.

“Yes, I have seen your sister before, she wore this patterned blouse this morning right?” Steve said, starting to describe the blouse. “Light blue with geometric shapes on it in pastel colours?”

“Yeah” Jonathan said, remembering the blouse from breakfast.

“Then I’m sorry my friend, but it was her too.” Steve said, giving Jonathan a sympathetic look.

You had successfully avoided your big brother during the whole school day and was more than satisfied with that when you hopped on you bike again that afternoon.

Your mind was only focused on preparing for Eddie’s arrival later.

When you came home you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, enjoying the silence.

You organised you room a bit, ie, shoving junk and old stuffed animals into the closet.

You straightened up your bed a bit, not that it still would look like that at the end of the night but still.

Right then and there you realised that you didn’t have any condoms…

Sure it was Eddies responsibility to bring some, but you didn’t want the night to be spoiled even if he forgot them.

You weren’t on any birth control, simply bc that required a signature from a parent, and taking that up with your mom was a no go at the moment. You thought about it for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Jonathan might have some…

You walked into your brothers room and headed straight for his nightstand, but as you pulled out the draw you only found this old photography magazine. You cursed a little under your breath, couldn’t he just have some condoms you could steal without his knowledge?

You checked the pockets of some of his most worn clothes but only found nickels and gum wrappers.

His desk draw wasn’t any successful either.

”How can he not have any condoms?” you thought, and returned to the nightstand, you picked up the magazine to check underneath it. It was then you hit the jackpot, out from between the pages fell condoms, onto the floor.

”That sneaky little shit” you mumbled and picked up two condoms, putting them in your pant-pocket. As you bent down to pick up the rest you suddenly heard a very familiar voice.

”I knew that you were fucking lying” Jonathan said. You jerked at his words just dropping the remaining condoms and the magazine right back into his nightstand.

”He can’t even bring his own fucking condoms?”

”I have not clue what your on about?” You said, deciding that denial was the way to go with Jonathan. You began to walk out of the room but Jonathan grabbed your wrist making you stay.

”I´m not stupid if you think so, I know that its drug-dealer-cult-leader Eddie Munson who you are planning to sleep with.” Jonathan said, getting properly worked up about it all. ”And its obviously him that also already branded you like cattle.”

He pointed towards the hickey by your collarbone.

”You are such a fucking idiot, you don´t even know him! ” you spat, jerking your hand free from his grip. ”And its not like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”

”Don´t bring me into this” he responded. ”You are the one to make stupid mistakes”

Your blood was boiling and you wanted to slap your brother across the face.

”You are the stupid one, going around judging people on what other people say all the time.” You said, getting really defensive over Eddie. ”Weren’t we just the freaks,huh? When Will went missing? We were the zombie-boy-siblings for about a year Jonathan”

”That was totally different and you know it.” He said.

”How exactly is it different?” You said.

Jonathan stumbled over his words, not really sure of what to say.

”Its not worth explaining to you” he landed on.

”You are such a dick, do you know that “ you said, walking out of his room.

”I want my condoms back.” Jonathan then said.

”They are all in your nightstand.” You replied, walking towards the kitchen.

”I saw you putting some in your pocket, I’m not stupid, hand them over” he said.

”And what will the outcome be of that?” You asked him, ”do you think that you can stop me from having sex just because you take away the condoms?”

He huffed.

”You are really stupid, you really would have unprotected sex just cause the contraception just isn’t right the beside you?” He said.

” I´ve heard the pullout method is effective or what do you say picture-perfect-big-brother” you spat at him, knowing full well what he and Nancy did at Murray Baumans house about 3 months ago.

”What are you talking about now?” He said, playing innocent.

” Cut the bullshit, you know that I talk to Nancy right?” You responded.

“First and foremost that is none of your business, and it’s not what we are discussing here?” Jonathan said.

“I thought unprotected sex was exactly what we were discussing?” You shot back.

Before Jonathan could reply your fight got cut off by your mom coming home with a pounding migraine.

“Hey, hey,hey” she shouted and then held a hand to her head. “Who is having unprotected sex?”

You quickly pointed a finger towards Jonathan as he did the same towards you, just as when you were kids.

“Okay, you two sit down, and don’t speak a word until I’m back.” Joyce said and pointed towards the couch.

You and Jonathan started to bicker about calling each other out as you mom went towards the kitchen.

“I said not a word!” She snapped at you, as she grabbed a hairclip from the table, putting her hair up.

You and Jonathan shut up quickly after that.

Joyce had looked forward towards a quiet house with only you and Stacy home so she could rest, but now she had to give a improvised sex talk to her two teenagers.

“Let’s have them close in age Joyce, they’ll have so much FUN together” she muttered, imitating Lonnie, whilst she was rumaging around trying to find painkillers.

Of course there was some truth in what he had said, you and Jonathan could always depend on each other to look after one another, which sometimes was nice and sometimes ended up in situations like this.

It drove Joyce crazy, the way the two of you never could leave it, she was just happy that both of you took it out on each other and both considered Will to be your favourite sibling, since Will would take fights so much more to heart.

“So, one at the time please explain why the two of you are fighting?” She said as she sat down on the table opposite you.

“Well for starters, she’s lying to you” Jonathan blurted out pointing at you.

“Oh c’mon for fucks sake” you said.

“Mind your language a bit please, now is this true ?” Joyce said, searching your face with that concerned mom look that you hated.

“Jonathan is totally throwing me under the bus here and it’s so unfair” you replied, hoping to shift blame.

The problem with your brother was that he knew every curveball you had and had learned how to easily dodge them.

“You didn’t answer the question?” He taunted.

You gave him the finger when your mom looked away and then you said,

“I’m not lying more than Jonathan is?”

“I’m not lying, she is.”

“Okay okay, quit bickering” Joyce said, shutting you both up. “I do not care who is lying and by the looks of it you both are, now what brought on this whole unprotected sex discussion?”

It was like a lightbulb went off over your head, and then you turned towards your brother.

“You want to tell her of should I?” You said putting your hand in your pocket.

Jonathan who had enough of your bullshit didn’t think before blurting out

“She stole my condoms to go have sex with the school drug dealer”

“Well Jonathan had unprotected sex with Nancy at a strangers house” you shot back, if he could play dirty then so could you.

“You are freaking unbelievable, how is that relevant at all?” Jonathan said.

Joyce was overwhelmed to say the least, these were sides of her children (and Nancy Wheeler for that matter) that she never expected to see.

“Okay I’m gonna need so much more information to make this make sense.” She gave you and Jonathan this maternal look that you had seen a thousand times before. It was best for the two of you to tell the truth.

“If I’m gonna say anything I want him to shut the fuck up whilst I talk” you started, glaring towards Jonathan.

Jonathan was about to protest when Joyce cut him off.

“Dial down on the cursing and the tone please” she first scolded. “But you do make a valid point, now Jonathan, let your sister talk”

Jonathan thought about protesting again but decided against it, since it probably wouldn’t help.

“I’ve met this guy…his name is Eddie, and despite popular belief” you said, shooting a glare towards Jonathan, “he is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. He is kind, considerate and I feel very safe with him.”

Jonathan who at this point didn't believe the sincerity in your voice rolled his eyes at your statement, but kept quiet.

“Okay…” Joyce said choosing her next words wisely. “He sounds lovely… but what worries me is the talk about drugs, has he ever offered you drugs?”

“He never has” you said triumphantly, looking at Jonathan before returning your eyes towards your mom.

“Has he ever dealt drugs with someone else in your presence?” Joyce asked.

You shook your head, cause sure people pulled him aside in school whilst you were in earshot but he always dealt the actual drugs in the woods by the school, and you weren’t there.

“Is he even like.. uhm high in front of you?” Joyce asked, searching your face for any indication of insincerity.

You pondered the question for a moment… It wasn’t like Eddie was high most of the time, it was more of a business than a hobby to put it that way. But sure it had happened once or twice that you surprised him at the trailer park, to find him with a joint in between his fingers.

“No, he isn’t” you responded.

“Then there isn’t much more I can ask from him, in that department” Joyce settled on.

Jonathan wasn’t satisfied with the fact that your mom was willing to drop the drug dealing after that conversation, he cleared his throat to say something, but was only met by a held up finger in front of him, telling him to keep quiet.

“Now honey, I assume that you are planning on sleeping with this Edward? It was Edward right?” Joyce asked, calling you by the nickname she had for you since you were a kid.

You blushed at the question, wasn’t it obvious?

“You can call him Eddie, everybody does” you first corrected. “But yeah…”

It was strange to admit it to your mom. It was even strange to say it out loud.

“Can I ask if you’ve ever done anything of that nature before?” She asked. Blood drained from your face, you didn’t want to admit any details in front of your mom and brother.

“No details necessary, just yes or no” your mom added and put a hand on your knee.

You thought about you and Eddie, about hickies, handjobs and fingerings, about Eddie’s hands on your tits and that time you came from grinding on his jean-clad thigh.

“ uhm, yes, but nothing too intimate so to say” you settled.

You mom nodded, then she turned towards your brother for the first time in a while.

“And am I right to assume by the conversation that I walked in on that you and Nancy are sexually active?” She asked.

You snickered silently,because finally it wasn’t only about you.

Jonathan pushed you slightly in the side with his elbow to shut you up.

“Yes, you are” Jonathan said, searching the wall in front of him trying to avoid looking his mother in the face as he answered the question.

“Okay, the two of you, let’s talk about protection” she stated going into this educating version of herself that you both hated.

“Mom, c’mon, we know already” Jonathan muttered, you saw him turning red in the face.

“Um no, we are discussing this” Joyce stated. Just as she was about to continue the door opened and in came the youngest Byers sibling.

“Hi Im just gonna grab my Dn… are both of you in trouble at the same time again?” Will asked, looking at both his older siblings. Who both looked flustered and ashamed.

“Why do you assume that they are in trouble?” Joyce asked. Taken a bit by suprised at Will´s question, was it really that obvious?

“ mom, your sitting on the coffetable, plus you have your hair up, you only put you hair up when you´re annoyed.” Will stated.

“Kid is good.” you said, smiling slightly at how observant your little brother was.

“They are in fact in trouble, but it's nothing that you need to worry about” Joyce said smiling at her youngest. “Go get your things. “

He ran off towards his room and your mom turned back towards you and Jonathan.

“Now where were we?” She said, “oh, yeah, Birth control is mandatory. It’s not up for discussion, I don’t want grandchildren yet and I promise you guys, non of you wants an STI”

“I think she’s talking to you” you said to Jonathan.

“At least I have condoms in my room” he muttered, “it`s more than your shitty boyfriend has.”

“Jonathan Byers!” Joyce said sternly, shutting your brother up.

“I just wanna add for the record that i didn´t borrow condoms from Jonathans stash because Eddie wasn´t planning on bringing any.” you said, defending both yourself and Eddie. “ I did it because I didnt want to be left without, incase he forgot, or it broke or something.”

“That was a very mature decision honey and I think it shows that you´re mature and responsible.” she said. ”although please ask your brother before going through his drawers and stealing things from him”

“Mkay, then” you said and rolled your eyes. You were nowhere near apologising to Jonathan.

“We can also look into contraceptive pills if that is something you might want” she said looking at you, hand on your knee.

“And if it ever comes up for discussion between you and Nancy, I want you to tell her that I will help in anyway I can, I’ll talk to Karen with her if she wants to.”

Jonathan simply nodded, and considered telling her about it.

“Now want to talk about consent” Joyce continued on, looking like she was mentally checking things off the “sex-talk-check-list”

“Once again mom we know, okay?” Jonathan groaned.

“Well good, that’s good” Joyce said. “Because like birth control it’s mandatory, I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do something that you don’t want to, no matter how big or small it is, and I don’t want you to pressure anyone into anything”

“I just wanna say if I ever find out that Munson has pressured you into doing some freaky shit then I swear to god I’ll beat him with my own hands” Jonathan said and your first instinct was to slap him, but since that would only land you in more trouble with your mom you decided against it.

“I can’t believe you” you said, “how can you even say that? It’s so unlike you to judge someone so hard with even knowing them”

Neither Joyce nor Jonathan had any chance to say anything because right after your outburst, there came a crash from your room and a very familiar,

“Oh shit”

“Speaking of the devil” Jonathan said with an eye roll.

“Shut the fuck up.” You said.

“Jonathan, that is quite enough” Joyce said, giving Jonathan a stern look. “Honey, go tell Eddie to wait in your room whilst we finish up here” Joyce said and you rose from the couch.

In the doorway to your room you saw your little brother staring wide-eyed at the long haired man who was busy putting all the cds he knocked down back.

“Hey babe” you said which made him look up.

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, I tried to be discreet and ended up being the total opposite.” He said smiling at you, then he turned his attention to the younger boy who stood next to you clutching his campaign to his chest.

“And this must the younger-brother-Byers?”

“Uhm yes, I’m.. Will” he said, turning a little shy. He then turned to you and you spotted that curious hint in his eye. “What’s hellfire club?” He whispered trying discreetly to motion towards the shirt Eddie was wearing.

“Ask him.” You said, knowing full well that Eddie would enjoy both answering the question and your brothers reaction.

“Will this is Eddie” you said, taking a step into the room, coaxing Will to join you. “He is the absolute nicest. And you can ask absolutely ask him what you asked me”

“What’s hellfire club?” Will asked, blushing slightly.

“It’s only the coolest club at Hawkins high” Eddie said, looking very proud. “We play DnD, and I’m the dungeon master”

You immediately noticed that spark light up inside of Will.

“You play DnD?” He asked, voice high pitched and excited.

“Live for it kid” Eddie replied. “I take it as you do too?”

“Yeah, I actually planned the campaign we are playing tonight” he said, looking at the things he was holding.

“Oh no way, can you show me?” Eddie said and took a seat on your bed. Not two seconds later Will was sat next to him.

“I just came him here to tell you that we are totally busted and mom asked me to tell you to stay in here whilst she finished up the most embarrassing mom-talk I’ve ever received.” You said to Eddie.

“Yeah, yeah go be embarrassed, I don’t have time for you right now” he said and shifted his focus back to Will who already started talking about the campaign.

You smiled as you returned to the living room, at least one of your brothers liked Eddie.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader

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vertumnanaturalis · 3 months

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A lot of people seemed to like my last one, so woe! More fic ideas be upon all ye again; compilation of au ideas I posted in LQ and haven't been edited to be easier to read edition!

(below the cut, because theres like 12 of them and its a big messy mess)

Nem?Tang fic where they wake up in some ancient convergent domain plant device with only hazy memories of how they got there but nothing solid enough to work off of, and also why is their hair so long, and where are their clothes, and where is the goddamn colony? Because oopsie daisy! it seems that somebody put them in the ancient alien magitech healing goo and forgot to take them out when they were done, and now two hundred years have passed and everybody else they know and love are long dead, and also apparently some giant ass fleet of earth guys tried to land while they were having a snooze but! oh! whoopsie! yet again! somebody sent them the wrong information about how to safely get through the wormhole and the majority of the fleet did not make it to the surface in one piece!!! and the some of the survivors may or may not have folk stories about people that may or may not be Nem and Tang’s loved ones doing either great or terrible things during those two hundred years they were sleeping through!!

mermaid au where Besk was a mermaid trapped in a research facility and Instance broke her out during her ecoterrorist days but Besk couldn’t go back to the ocean because (hand waves) so she stayed with Instance as a slightly-more-free test subject who could technically come and go as she pleases, and she did, and eventually came back from one of her outings with two whole goddamn babies, and despite their both their hopes both babies seem to be pretty much normal human babies except for the occasional weird non-human thing, like eating whole raw eggs or Tangent having an overnight sex change shortly after saying she’s a girl, and feeling like she’s the only mermaid left in the world eventually leads Besk to doing the same thing she always does, and now Instance is stuck with two ambiguously half-human grieving kindergartners, and now it’s the world’s words hybrid of Wolf Children and The Thirteenth Year (with a mild dose of human experimentation sprinkled on top)

modern day/modern-ish all humans on earth au fic where Sym is a pre-school teacher(or aid??) who just moved to a new town with his beloved edgelord of a boyfriend who never wants to talk about his past or childhood and Sym only knows bits and pieces that he’s mentioned over the past few years (but that’s fine he’s just got his secrets nothing new there), and at his new job with his new class there’s a young single parent of twins that also moved into town only a little bit after he did, and apparently they don’t have anybody in their life besides their kids, they don’t have any family and the kids dad isn’t in the picture, so he does the nice friendly thing and offers to lend a hand if they need help with anything, and one afternoon as he’s supposed to be leaving work after making sure that the kids are all picked up, he spots said single parent and said beloved edgelord talking/arguing about something, because apparently they used to know each other but haven’t seen each other in a long while, and his boyfriend doesn’t wanna hear what “actually super important and kinda immediately relevant” thing that his old friend wants to talk about, and before Sym can really stop them the two kids go running to greet their parent, and look we all know where this plot is heading fellas

(not sure if this one should follow Tang or Dys primarily but Imma go with Tang side for this) fic where there’s more people than canon but they’re still on Vertumna with little research on it & Sol has dream memories (maybe use part of the old idea about the Helio arriving as part of a mini fleet instead of a lone ship?), and Tang’s intelligence is lauded like in canon and she’s put into the best position to learn smarty smarts stuff, while Dys’ rebelliousness gets him no favors with the Man and gets himself marked as a troubled kid and moved away from his sister, with Tang being told that she can seek him out once she’s an adult if she still wants to but for now not to waste her time or energy on worrying about him and focus on her studies. She keeps hearing him being mentioned in passing as being part of some big secret alien-centric program to so she knows that he hasn’t gone awol, but she still doesn’t see him for the next 3 to 5 years even tho she still gets to see most of the other kids (bar Sol, who was also yoinked by the secret alien program). Fast forward to her being an adult enough adult who seems appropriately level headed for doing amoral sciences, so she’s invited to see the big important secret alien project, and “_so Tangent, you know how some of the xenofauna can pass information and feeling between individuals of different species through physical contact, and that there’s some functional technology leftover from the alien civilization that lived here beforehand? And that your brother spent a lot of time exploring ruins? And how sometimes science needs sacrifices? For the greater good and all that? :)?” and Tang gets to see her brother as one of the star subjects of the project’s attempt to recreate a messy version of the array (while not even understanding what it actually is)

like 3 different variants (Geranium, Flulu, and Hal+Tonin+Sol’s she group on a field trip” of “like 3 weeks after landing somebody falls into a mini wormhole and comes out 25 years into the future, except none of them went missing in the second timeline, and now they’re in the future having to deal with the way life actually turned out, and they don’t even know all of the stuff that their other selves do/did, because they may or may not be alive still in this other timeline”. (Actually what got me into working on all those future kid things because I wanted to know who’d be doing what when and with who)

au where Besk blacks out shortly before her suicide attempt and wakes up in a cave on Vertumna, having 0 idea where she is or how she got there, and stumbles around thinking she’s dead until one of the surveyors finds her, and upon getting back to the colony she finds out that she’s supposed to have been dead for the last 11 or so years, with her two five year olds now being sixteen (the same age as her when she left Earth & also how long she spent on the Strato), and she has to learn how to adapt to everything and being alive when she shouldn’t be while there are so many others who died and aren’t magically alive again, and also has to do all this while more or less locked under constant observation, because BOY nobody is going to casually leave her alone for like, so many reasons

fic that opens with Kom waking up in the medbay after the age 14 glow attack and Nem and their younger brothers and all his friends are so unbelievably glad he’s awake and ok, but he keeps learning about the not canon possible things that happened either during the attack or while he was healing (like his mom dying while helping the kids evacuate the creche or chief Rhett and Sol’s parents having died defending geoponics), and he’s just stuck with this unending feeling that he’s supposed to be dead right now, but he’s not, and I’m not sure where to go with the story past that

au where Kom wakes up five years before the Strato reaches the wormhole with the knowledge that he’s going to die ten years from now, and it more or less follows a dreamer Kom story except that he knows that his story only has one conclusion, and rather than trying to prevent his own death he spends that time trying to save and protect as many people in his life as he can (maybe prequel to above scenario?)

obligatory single “nice” modern au fic except that nice has to be in quotation marks because technically it’d be about Dys breaking into Sym’s house after committing a major felony and definitely in a big hurty thinking that it was abandoned, but like surprise! it’s not! and even tho Dys fully expects Sym to call the cops on him and wake up in jail he instead wakes up in Sym’s guest room and immediately assumes that he either died already, accidentally tripped into the fae realm, or Sym is some kinda polite hannibal ass serial killer, and it’d be just a whole bunch of Sym being genuinely kind and nice to Dys while Dys is just “y tho like literally what is wrong with you”, and it takes like 2 years and several more major felonies for them to get together. also this might’ve spawned off of the earlier pre school teacher one but it’s not 100% attached to it so that’s why it has it’s own bulletpoint

2.5 flavors of a Hunger Games AU, which are "special games where its announced that this year each district has to send two siblings/other close family members, and the twins get reaped in their district", "one of the younger boys gets reaped but Kom volunteers in their place", and "Tang watching as Dys gets reaped the first year he's applicable for it and she can't do anything about it, and then having to watch as Kom (in his last year of being applicable) volunteers in her brother's place and all of his siblings are now freaking out" which only came to me as I was sharing the first two.

also have this flawless related image

au where Sym sees videos of wild animals in urban areas being relocated to a better habitat on the data thing Sol gives him and he comes up with a fresh new idea; cut to his two favorite humans (age 13/14) waking up on a strange beach some few thousand kilometers away from the colony several weeks later with 0 idea how they got there (ark opening tune starts to play)

also whatever this is

anyways, that's definately not all of the random au ideas I've had and don't include some of the more developed ones I've actually made effort to work on/flesh out, but these were on hand and I wanted to share them too

#i was a teenage exocolonist #iwatex #wips #this is really messy and chaotic and basically copied from my phones note app #also yeah. these do all kinda start with somebody waking up in a situation. but this is the wake up again game so I'm allowed to do that

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lexosaurus · 11 months

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Everything Was White: Part 21

[see all chapters]

read on: [ao3] [ffn] (please read tags)

Summary: After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GIW.

****

It had only been a few days since his core access had returned to him, but he still wasn’t used to the buzzing under his skin, cool and constant, pure comfort against the blistering pain of his nerve damage.

Looking back, he wasn’t sure how he had managed to make it this far without his core. His parents, his sister, his friends didn’t understand—they couldn’t, they were just human. But Vlad understood. Vlad was like him. Even if he was a complete asshole in every other way.

Danny flicked off the TV and stretched. Grabbing his walker, he made his way over to the kitchen where Jazz was sitting at the table, her attention devoted entirely to the book in her hand.

“Hey,” he said, dropping into one of the chairs.

“Hi, Danny,” she said absentmindedly.

He peeked at the cover. The History of Boston, it read with fancy, gold letters. Danny rolled his eyes. “You haven’t even…moved there yet. And be—besides, isn’t Harvard in Cambridge?”

“Cambridge is right next to Boston, and they’re both on the same transit system. They may as well be the same city,” Jazz recited as if she’d said it a thousand times before. “And anyway, it’s always good to learn about a place before you move there.”

“Yeah, but it’s ways away.”

“I start school next month, Danny.”

Danny blinked, whipping out his phone. Sure enough, the end of the year was fast approaching.

Shit, Christmas is coming up…

He hadn’t even begun to think about the holidays. Then it hit him…Aunt Alicia hadn’t come over for Thanksgiving, had she?

Why hadn’t she come this year? He tried to remember, tried to think back if anyone had mentioned anything, but he drew a blank.

It wasn’t…because of him, was it?

“I need to be prepared,” Jazz rambled, oblivious to any internal crisis Danny was having at the moment. “I’ve heard that the train system is unreliable, so I want to have a good understanding of the city in case of emergency. I don’t ever want to get stuck in an area that may be unsafe for me. And learning the historical context of different neighborhoods is key to understanding the city as a whole.”

“No one’s going to be asking you for tours.”

“As I said, preparation is key.” Jazz placed her bookmark—a plastic green ghost—in between the pages and set the book down on the table. She eyed him for a moment. “I talked to Mom and Dad about the whole chip thing, and, well…”

He was so thankful for having two years of Phantom to hone his acting skills. “They’re still—still building the new one.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, grimacing. “But they assured me it was just temporary. They really do want this to work, you know. They want you to have your independence back too.”

“I know, I know,” Danny said flatly because he really didn’t know. They wouldn’t be jumping through all these hoops if they wanted him to gain his independence.

But ultimately, that didn’t matter because he had Phantom back. He had his core back. He had full access to his flight, intangibility, invisibility, everything.

He was free. Even if nobody else could know about it except Vlad.

“Sorry,” Jazz said.

“Thanks for trying.”

Jazz seemed surprised by something if the way she was studying him was any indication, and he wondered if maybe she was expecting a bit bigger reaction. Maybe she was waiting for the meltdown of emotions, for the yelling, crying, cursing.

And perhaps he would have done that before. Back when he was just an unstable, half-finished person. Back when he couldn’t tell Monday from Tuesday, when he was relying on drugs to get him through his day.

It was different now. Gone was his emotional instability, now he was turning a new leaf. He was going to be stronger in every way. He was going to be a better son, a better student—one who didn’t end up crying in Mr. Lancer’s office every week.

He had his core, so everything was going to be alright.

“I’ll be up in my room,” he said, pulling himself back up. “Gonna—gonna play video games for a bit.”

Jazz picked her book back up from the table. “Okay, have fun.”

He made his way up to his room and collapsed on his bed. The stairs almost seemed insulting now that he could fly, but he knew he needed to keep up appearances. He was just thankful he didn’t need to go through the humiliation of completely relying on a stairlift anymore, (even as the words of his therapist reminded him that stairlifts aren’t embarrassing, Danny, they’re an accessibility tool, plenty of people of all ages need them for all sorts of reasons, Danny, it doesn’t make you a failure).

But that was fine. If there was anything he had perfected over the years, it was the art of hiding.

Once he had recovered his breath enough to feel like moving again, he felt for the wash of cold under his skin. It was still there, same as it had been for the past few days, calling to him to switch, switch, switch.

So he did.

There was little fanfare this time. No battle cry, no profound moment where he threw his arms at the heavens and jumped into the air. He was just a human, and then a flash of rings passed before his eyes and he was a ghost.

And then he was gone, invisible, jetting through the window with such force that nearly gave him whiplash.

God, he hadn’t moved this fast in…he didn’t even know how long.

He swooped through the air, his muscles stretching as he weaved loop-de-loops around invisible barriers. More than likely, he was flying a far cry compared to when he had been in his prime. But that was okay. He would get there again.

For now, this was wonderful. Exhilarating. Everything. This was happiness, a concept that seemed so foreign to him, he’d all but forgotten what it felt like. But then it sparked in his chest, expanding out to the tips of his fingers, and he couldn’t help but face the sun and laugh.

The world had tried to knock him down. First the portal, then the ghosts, then the government, then his parents. But he was still here.

“Take that,” he shouted at the sky. “Take fucking that!”

He had never been a religious person. His parents were scientists, and he was fairly sure his sister prayed to her favorite authors before she went to bed every night. But just in case there was some asshole looking down, he wanted them to see him now. Flying here, invisibly flipping them the bird. Even after everything, Danny was still here.

“You can’t get rid of me,” he added for good measure.

Deciding his time of yelling at the clouds like some kind of crazy person was more than over, he flew into the city, passing by buildings, cars, trucks. He soared over apartments and dove into the ground, whizzing through foundations and pipes.

Some people reacted to his presence, glancing over their shoulders as a chill hit their skin. By now, most of Amity Park likely could recognize the telltale ecto-chill of a ghost core.

But he was invisible, and he had no intention of changing that. So eventually, the people shrugged and carried on, likely assuming that whatever ghost was passing by was too weak to be of much harm.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but eventually, his core pouted, and he felt his strength puttering out under his skin. His weaves weren’t quite as fluid, and staying in the air seemed like more effort than it was worth.

Strange. He didn’t remember tiring so easily before.

But then he thought back to when he first acquired his ghost powers, and…yeah, maybe he did fatigue quickly back then.

It was okay. Like the rest of his life, he would just rebuild from scratch again.

He had help this time. Real help. One that felt…

Like bliss.

He opened his eyes. He was sunbathing on the roof of some building. Had he napped? Maybe he was more spent than he thought he was. Well, that wouldn’t be unheard of. He had passed out after his first ghost fight too.

God, that felt like another lifetime ago.

Two years as Phantom. Dozens of fights under his belt. A reputation across his sect of the Ghost Zone. And yet, he felt as new as he did back then after his first real fight against the Lunch Lady.

He would need to train. Work hard. Push himself. Do everything he could to get back to how he was before. He couldn’t let the public see just how badly the government had hurt him.

Right. He had a plan, then.

****

“Where’s Jason?” Star asked, writing what appeared to be an attempt at his name on the whiteboard.

Ms. Perez, the learning center teacher, sighed and checked her watch. “He’s got another five minutes before I phone the main office.”

In a singsong voice, Star said, “He’s gonna be in trouble!”

“Why don’t you sit down and start your math homework?” Ms. Perez asked.

“I can do it later.”

“Girl, no, you can’t,” Ashley said from her table across the room. She squinted at the board, twirling her coily hair in her fingers. “That’s not even how you spell his name.”

Star took a step back from her mirage of bubble letters and guffawed. “Oh my god, I wrote the J as a d! Haha, his name looks like ‘dason’ now!”

“You’re dyslexic,” Ashley said.

“Ashley, stop,” Ms. Perez ordered.

But Star was cackling too hard to be insulted.

Danny simply dropped his head onto his paper, having given up after writing his name in the top corner. He was supposed to start a new academic goal this week. And he was still committed to that, truly, but right now if he had to do one more fucking math problem, he was going to scream.

“DASON!”

“Danny, come on. Head up,” Ms. Perez said. “Mr. Lancer’s coming in twenty minutes and I want you to have that worksheet done before then.”

Danny did like Ms. Perez, but most of the time, he just felt bad for her. The learning center was chaotic on the best of days, even with the small class sizes and few students. Usually, there was a para teacher there as well, a man whose name Danny’s brain couldn’t commit to memory. But on days when the aide was called to a different class or he was absent such as today, even Danny had to admit he hardly got work done.

Not for lack of effort either. It was just so hard to stay focused when his brain took one look around the room and decided to go on vacation.

“Danny.”

“I’m tired,” he responded.

“What’s up, did you not sleep well last night?” Ms. Perez asked.

Danny shrugged. In fact, he had slept wonderfully. Just as he’d been sleeping for the past week. The problem wasn’t his sleeping patterns, it was when he woke up. His body still wasn’t used to all the ecto-energy he’d been recently expending on his little escapades all over town. He was sore and sluggish in a way he hadn’t felt in years. The hydrocodone he’d recently started taking in the morning dealt with his soreness, but it too had its own set of drawbacks. Though it helped his body not burn in pain at all hours of the day, it also made him want to crawl back into bed. Which, when surrounded by teachers who knew all about his little habit of falling asleep at his desk pre-reveal, was obviously not ideal.

“Let’s try to do five more problems, and then you can take a break,” said Ms. Perez.

Reluctantly, Danny pulled his head up from his desk to see that Star had begun to write ‘dason’ in various fonts all over the whiteboard.

Ms. Perez made her way over to Danny’s table and sank into a chair next to him. Her dark brown hair bobbed at her shoulders, tickling the floral designs of her shirt. “Alright, come on, let’s tackle a few of these math problems.”

Danny crossed his arms. “I don’t get it.”

“Yes, you do, we did these yesterday.”

“I forgot how to do it.” That wasn’t even a lie. If Danny had trouble in school last year, everything was just so much harder now.

Thank you, blunt force trauma to the skull.

“Then let’s go over them again.”

Danny groaned but did his best to pay attention anyway. He tried to ignore how Ashley was almost definitely doodling in the margins of her notebook instead of doing her readings, Star was still writing ‘dason’ all over the whiteboards, and Jason was…

Well, he was probably still roaming the halls somewhere.

True to her word, Ms. Perez only made Danny do five tortuous problems before she let him take a break so she could call the main office to report her missing student. And Danny wasted no time sinking his head back down onto the table and closing his eyes.

“Jason Cleaver, please report to room 101. Jason Cleaver, to room 101.”

Just another day in the learning center.

“Star, sit down. You need to start your math homework too. Mr. Bryan told me you didn’t turn in yesterday’s assignment.”

“Mr. Bryan didn’t collect the assignment in class.”

“Yes, he did, Star, and he told me yours was blank.”

“I forgot to do it.”

“I understand, so why don’t we take the time to do it now?”

Danny closed his eyes, letting fatigue wash over him. He stretched his fingers out along the table, and his body relaxed.

Just a few more minutes…

The door crashed open, and Danny snapped up, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. For a moment, his eyes flickered over to the white walls, and his throat tightened as imagery of the white halls of the compound flashed at him. He dug his fingernails into his palms, forcing the images away to be met with the stocky form of his missing classmate at the doorway.

“Dason!” Star exclaimed, jumping out of her chair once again. “You’re here!”

The boy—Jason—hardly glanced at the whiteboard before he stalked inside, flipped a chair against the floor, and stomped back out of the room.

“Take a chill pill, Dason,” Ashley called after him.

Ms. Perez simply sighed and picked up the phone once more.

Danny put his head back down on the table.

“Danny, head up. Break’s over.”

Curse these small classrooms.

He knew he wasn’t subtle about his displeasure at being called out again as he pulled his head from the table and forced his pencil back into his hand.

“Hey, Danny?” Star asked, blinking owlishly at him. “Why don’t you walk at school? I see you do it outside of school.”

Because school had long hallways and he was still too weak, too self-conscious.

“I have walked at school before,” Danny retorted instead. “You just haven’t seen it.”

“Really?” Star asked.

“Star, focus on your own work,” Ms. Perez said.

“She’s just trying to get out of doing her homework.”

“Ashley, you too.”

“Where’s Dason?” Star asked.

“Mr. Lancer is handling it.”

The door opened again, and Kwan stepped into the room.

“Back already? How did the quiz go?” Ms. Perez asked.

Kwan shrugged. “It was fine.”

Kwan dropped his bag next to Star and sat down. He briefly made eye contact with Danny, who immediately dropped his gaze back down to his paper.

He wasn’t ready to acknowledge Kwan’s existence yet.

“Hey, why is ‘dason’ written all over the board?” Kwan asked.

Star launched into another fit of giggles.

“Star did it,” was Ashley’s only explanation.

“Danny, Star, how’s that math homework going?” Ms. Perez asked.

Danny stared at the swirling mess on his paper. His brain just really did not want to do math today. “Fantastic.”

“Do five problems and then you can take another break until Mr. Lancer gets here.”

Danny lazily saluted the learning center teacher and tried his best to focus on the squiggly numbers and symbols before him.

Find f(x)...that’s all I need to do…

But who was he kidding? This was all pointless. His dream of working for NASA was as good as dead because his stupid brain didn’t hold information like it used to.

Not that he was ever particularly good at school. He wasn’t like Jazz. It felt like his brain was a colander and school was a pot of water. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, none of the information stayed in.

It didn’t take that long—or it took far too long—before footsteps were at the door and Mr. Lancer was carting Jason-Dason alongside him.

“Dason! Welcome back!” Star waved at him.

“...because you have to stay in class,” Mr. Lancer was saying quietly. “I’m not going to repeat this again, Mr. Cleaver.”

“Whatever.” Jason-Dason grabbed a chair on the other side of Danny’s table, dropped his backpack on the floor, and immediately put his head down into his arms. Ms. Perez didn’t even try to get him to pull out his notebook.

Turning around, Mr. Lancer’s expression morphed into something far brighter. “Alright, Mr. Fenton?”

Danny rolled his eyes and gave him a weak thumbs-up. “Can’t wait to learn about books.”

“I’m sure.” Mr. Lancer dropped into the chair beside Danny and glanced at the pitifully attempted math assignment. “Would you like me to go over anything else first?”

Danny was quick to stuff his assignment into his folder. Out of sight, out of mind. “No—no thanks.”

“Alright, let’s go over the reading from last night. Did you do it?”

Danny shrugged. “I tried.”

He honestly had. But as soon as he looked at the pages, it was like his brain turned into a zombie.

Mr. Lancer, presumably, got the not-so-hidden meaning. “That’s alright, let’s go through the passages, then.”

Danny opened his backpack and began shuffling around for his assigned book when a distantly familiar chill wormed up his throat. He dropped the book back in his bag and sat erect in his chair.

Wild eyes met Mr. Lancer’s, and then he opened his mouth, a puff of frost expelling from his lips.

Mr. Lancer’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mr. Fenton, are you—”

The ghost alarms went off, filling the classroom with green lights. Jack Fenton’s voice blared through the speakers, suffocating the air with, “WARNING: GHOST ALERT. GHOST ALERT.”

The small class was on their feet at once—even Danny, who wasted no time in letting the adrenaline course through his body. He wouldn’t be able to do much, but maybe some scary eyes would be enough to ward off the potential ghost from his territory.

“Damn!” Ms. Perez cursed. “Students, we need to evacuate to the ghost shield in the gym!”

Next to Ms. Perez, the bottom of the wall distorted with a green glow. Danny grabbed the table and braced himself to defend his classmates against—

“Arf! Arf!”

A figure shot through the walls and bounced, wagging its tail. Its purple tongue hung loosely outside of its mouth, and green-tinted ecto-saliva dripped onto the floor.

It took a second to spin around in a circle before it spotted Danny.

“Arf! Arf!” it exclaimed, bouncing through the chairs and quite literally jumping up Danny’s legs.

“Cujo?” Danny said, finally getting enough of a grip to speak.

“You know that dog?” Star asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t understand…” Danny pulled his brows in as he sat back down in his wheelchair, letting Cujo climb onto his lap and start lapping at his face.

It made no sense. His parents said that the emergency ghost alarms—the ones that ordered the complete evacuation of the building—only went off for ghosts that were level four or above. In his small form, Cujo was hardly a level three.

So either the ghost alarms were faulty, or Cujo wasn’t the only ghost here.

“Babypop!” a new voice sang out over the prerecorded wails of Jack Fenton.

A blue blur of a ghost rushed down from the ceiling and halted right in front of him. Her teal hair was pulled up behind her, accentuating the bluish tint of her pale skin. She wore her usual ghostly getup of a black top on black bottoms, and her purple and blue electric guitar was slung across her back.

Ah, that would explain the emergency alarms.

Ember McLain slugged his arm, grinning widely. “You’re back!”

Danny was more than a little aware of the audience watching the interaction. And, from some insecure ghostly part of himself, he was also more than aware that this was his first ghostly encounter where he was—well—forced to be human.

Not that the humans would understand the ecto-psychology at play here, and he would rather die than explain it to anyone, but Ember certainly would understand.

Which sucked.

“Hey—hey, Ember,” he said, trying to play it cool.

“Hey, what the fuck is up with this fire alarm thing?”

“Mr. Fenton?” Lancer asked from beside him.

“Holy shit, is that Ember McLain?” Kwan stared dumbfounded. “I listen to your album all the time!”

Star’s jaw dropped. “Ember’s a ghost?”

“WARNING: GHOST ALERT. EVACUATE. GHOST ALERT.”

Jack’s voice was starting to get more than a little piercing.

“Hey!” Danny called to Lancer. “Can we turn the ghost alarm off?”

“Mr. Fenton, you know we have to wait for your parents—”

“She’s an ally, she’s not going to attack! And this is my—er, uh. Well, my ghost-dog friend. He’s harmless.” So long as he doesn’t feel threatened, at least.

“I’m sorry, but you know that I can’t do that.”

“I promise there’s no need to evacuate.”

“You guys were going to evacuate on my account?” Ember repositioned her guitar on her back. “Well, I’m flattered that you think so highly of me. But no, if I wanted to start something, I wouldn’t have brought the dog.”

As if to prove the point, Cujo leaped off Danny’s lap and began bouncing over to everyone else in the room, lapping their shins and sniffing their shoes.

“Arf! Arf!”

Lancer sighed and walked into the hallway. A moment later, the ghost alarm was off.

Danny let out a breath of relief and turned his attention back to the two ghosts in front of him.

“Jeez, Danny, you better have a real good explanation for this.” Ashley folded her arms.

“No, it’s—” Danny sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ghosts weren’t good at deciphering boundaries on the best of days. To them, the whole of Amity Park was Phantom’s territory. So if they wanted to see Phantom, they just entered his territory.

And that included places they shouldn’t go, like the school.

“Well, alarm or no, Ms. Ember and, erm, her dog are trespassing, and I will have to ask her to leave,” Lancer said, reappearing at the doorway.

“Okay, can I just talk to her in the hall for like two minutes first?” Danny asked.

“No, Mr. Fenton. Absolutely not.”

“But she’s—“

“I’m more than aware of your little scuffles before,” Lancer said, crossing his arms. “Besides, your parents will be arriving shortly. Ms. Ember, if you would?”

Ember huffed, scooping up Cujo. “Whatever. Babypop, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Danny said awkwardly, glancing around at his classmates. “I’ll find you in—in the spot.”

Ember nodded and left, disappearing through the ceiling.

There was a beat of silence before Kwan broke it. “I can’t believe you know Ember!”

****

The moon was bright later that night. Nearly full, Danny realized, and its light along with some wispy clouds blocked much of the glittering night sky from view.

He thought back to the Reddit post where the Amity Park astronomy club had told Sam and Tucker to pass him an open invitation. His friends had presumably forgotten about that comment, but Danny thought maybe he should check out the club anyway. Maybe it would be good for him to get back into his hobbies.

He hovered on top of the Nasty Burger building. He remembered the first time he and Ember had somewhat mended their differences. It had been here too, atop this building, when Ember had come to Earth for just a few hours to listen to a band’s new album.

Damn, it was so long ago. So much had changed.

Danny looked over where a burn mark had scorched the cement. He smiled to himself. Much had changed, sure, but some things were still the same.

A breath of cold air hit his lungs, and he turned around to see Ember holding a chip bag with one hand and Cujo with the other.

Cujo didn’t hesitate to wiggle out of Ember’s hold and bound over to him, tongue flopping. Danny sank onto the roof, holding his arms out. The little dog leaped into them and excitedly licked his neck.

“Hey, buddy,” Danny said, tilting his chin up to avoid the wrath of Cujo’s tongue on his face. “I missed you too!”

Ember snorted, touching down on the roof. She opened the potato chips, and the smell of salt and oil immediately permeated the air.

“Did you even pay for this?” Danny asked.

“What are you, a cop?” Ember munched on a chip. “I swear, this is like the one thing the Zone can never get right.”

Danny raised his brow, giving her an are-you-kidding-me look.

She rolled her eyes and held out the bag, rattling it. “Come on, I know you want some.”

“Whatever.” Danny rolled his eyes but nonetheless grabbed a handful. “You still need to pay for this, though.”

“Never change, babypop.”

Danny chomped on the (stolen) chips, basking in the two a.m. salty taste. And for a moment, the two of them just sat there unbothered, eating chips and throwing pebbles across the roof for Cujo to pounce on.

And when Cujo eventually tired, he snuggled between them, facing Danny. His paws pressed into Danny’s ghostly tail, and his nose nuzzled into where his thigh would be.

It hurt more than Ember would ever know that he couldn’t feel the dog against his legs. But she didn’t need to know the extent of his injuries, at least not right now.

“So, you’re back,” Ember started, failing to hide the curiosity in her tone.

He tried to give her a carefree smile as he responded with, “Yeah. Finally, right?” But he was sure he looked as uncomfortable as he felt, and he knew that the way his core faltered and tensed would not be lost on Ember.

“I mean…okay, I’m just going to say it. The hell happened?” asked Ember. “What did they do to you? When you didn’t come back right away, I figured they fucked with your core somehow. And I was right. Your core doesn’t feel right anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Sure he was weaker, but he didn’t feel any different. Not like…before. When the scalpel had first pierced him. Not like that. Disgusting, violated.

Ember squinted at him, and Danny tried to quell the anxiety that he was surely projecting onto her.

Stupid ghosts and their stupid emotion-sensing abilities.

But then she snapped out of her scrutiny, rolling her eyes, saying, “Jeez, chill. I don’t mean like you’re a whole different ghost now, I’m just saying that your core feels weaker.” She punched his arm lightly. “Been a minute, huh? What took you so long to get back in the air?”

“Oh.” Danny flushed, embarrassed. Because of course, she didn’t mean it like that. He was just being anxious and insecure again. “You know, I—I wanted to…lull you guys into a false sense of security. Make you think I was—wasn’t protecting Amity anymore. Just some classic ghostly manipulation.”

“Yeah, sure. Totally believe that.”

“I know.” The grin fell off Danny’s face, fickle as it was.

Well, there was no use trying to sugarcoat the truth. Not with the ghosts in danger of this happening to them too.

“Courts decided I was human enough to exist. Cause, you know—” Danny held up his hand and shook out his wrist. “—I got a—a pulse and stuff. When I’m human, I mean. A heart—heartbeat too.”

He waited for the implication to process, and when Ember’s eyes sparked with recognition and her face immediately dropped to a scowl, he shrugged and let his hand fall back to his side.

“Oh, wonderful,” said Ember. “So you’re safe, but there’s nothing stopping the rest of us from getting messed up like that?”

Well, ouch.

“Sorry.”

Ember snorted. “Well, if you wanted ghosts to stay out of the human realm, you’ll probably convince most of them.”

“Haven’t they…everyone’s been avoiding Amity anyway, right?” Danny asked.

“Well, duh, idiot. You getting captured was kind of a big fucking deal in our little sect of the Infinite Realms. You should have heard the rumors.”

He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to hear them. Because he wasn’t sure how much he could lie to the other ghosts, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell them just how many of their rumors were true.

He looked up at the sky, noting the sprinkle of stars that had won their fight against the city’s light pollution and the full moon. “I heard Skulker tried to bust me out.”

“Yeah.” Ember’s tone was off, and when Danny looked over, some speckles of green had appeared on her cheeks.

…huh?

“The idiot’s ego can be too much sometimes,” she said, a hint of a smile curling on her lips.

Danny didn’t know what that look meant, but he was also a hundred percent sure that he did not want to know, thank you very much. “Well, tell him I said—uh, said, you know, thanks. For trying. It meant a lot.”

“I’ll pass it along.” Ember shifted, and suddenly her face was serious again. “What did they want from you?”

“The Guys in White?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Danny gently rubbed behind Cujo’s ear, trying to crush the sudden anxiety that was threatening to spike him. “Power. They wanted power.”

“Like, from you?”

“Yeah. My core. Ectoplasm.” Danny took a shuttering breath. Despite the relaxation help he had pumping through his veins, just the mere mention of the topic had him suppressing the onslaught of memories that were trying to breach the metaphorical thermos he’d crammed them into. “The government liked my—my ectoplasm because it’s more dense than the blob ghosts they—they had. They…would hook me to these…these…these machines, and they’d take the ecto—ectoplasm from me. Just every day. And eventually—I don’t know. I don’t really remember how it escalated.” He touched his prickling chest, trying to cool the misfiring nerves above his core.

“Like…” Ember tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “They cut you up?”

Danny squirmed. This was quickly getting into personal territory, and the ghosts and he didn’t exactly have the same relationship that he had with his therapist.

“Sort of,” he responded as evenly as he could.

She didn’t hold back. “They wanted your core.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said a little too bitterly.

There was a pause between them, and tension crackled in the air as Danny raised his aura to mask the shame that was crawling up his throat.

“Well, did they get it?” asked Ember.

Like hell was he going to react in front of a ghost.

“Why does it matter if they did? Since when do you care?”

“Of course I care.” Ember crossed her arms, frowning. “If the enemy got your core, who knows what they’ll do to the rest of us.”

Oh. Right.

Of course.

How could he be so stupid to hold even a flicker of hope that anyone actually cared about him? Least of all Ember, a ghost that he’d fought on more than one occasion.

But instead of snapping, he shrugged, defeated. Maybe disappointed. Who knew? Not him.

“Then don’t get caught,” he said simply.

Ember was already probably pitying him enough. He didn’t need to add ‘crybaby’ to the list of reasons why he wasn’t a good protector of Amity anymore.

The silence stretched on between them. Because duh, “don’t get caught” was a stupid, obvious thing to say. And it wasn’t exactly like Danny had been trying to get caught either.

He had never exactly been close with any of the ghosts, but this social divide between them? Yeah, that was new. Before, he at least had his strong core to go off of. Ghosts liked strength; they could respect him for defending Amity so well. But now…

Cujo yawned beside him, shifting around so his back was curled into Danny’s tail and his paws were outstretched to graze Ember’s thigh.

“So…they did get it, then,” said Ember. “Your core.”

“That’s—that’s not—” Danny stumbled, his brain once again more than acutely aware of the social dynamics at play. He grunted, frustrated, before pushing through. “That’s not why my—my core is…” He took a deep breath. “I know I’m out of practice, but I—I really am fine. My core’s not…you know, suffering permanent damages or anything. I’ll be—I’ll be back to normal with a little bit of training. It just…I couldn’t access my powers for a bit. That’s all.”

And he really hoped that was clear, because fuck no he didn’t want ‘Phantom is a weakling’ to spread across the Ghost Zone.

He felt a light tap on his arm again, and he looked over to see Ember’s glowing fist hovering just above his skin. “Well, you’re back now. Fuck those guys.”

“Right,” he said. “But seriously, you have to tell the ghosts what…I mean, it’s dangerous to be here right now. The Guys in—the government doesn’t—”

“Chill. I know I’m in danger by being here. Jeez, let a girl live a little.”

The only reason why the Guys in White went “easy” on him was because he had a human half at all. The full ghosts? The government didn’t have a reason to cater to their afterlives. If Ember was caught…well, she was disposable enough for the Guys in White to not give a crap about taking her whole core.

But Danny couldn’t say this without sounding like an asshole. “Just tell them. Please.”

“Sure, whatever, babypop.” Ember popped another chip in her mouth. “But don’t expect the others to listen, you know. They’ll probably just think I’m keeping you all to myself or something.”

“I’m not a toy, Ember.”

“But you’ve got the portal.”

“It’s not my portal.”

“But it’s in your territory.”

Yeah, by the unwritten ghost rules, that did actually make it “his” portal. “Even more reason for—for the others to leave me alone.”

Ember shrugged and poked Cujo. “Hey, lazy. If you sleep right now, you won’t be tired later and then you’re going to want to play when I’m tired.”

Cujo blinked up at her with sleep still in his eyes. Then he stuck out his tongue and lapped her fingers.

“Ugh, gross!” Ember shook out her hand. “The chips aren’t for you.”

Now with the taste of chips on his tongue, Cujo perked up and sniffed toward the bag.

“No! Not for you!” Ember scolded him, swiping the chips from the ground before he could make his attempted pounce. “You’ll throw up if you eat these. Hang on…I’ve got…”

Danny smiled absentmindedly, scratching Cujo’s back. Seeing these two interact…yeah, Danny was glad that he’d managed to convince Ember to take in Cujo last year after one of Cujo’s escapades into the Human World landed him too close to being captured by Jack and his Fenton Ghost Catcher. It was clear that Cujo needed an owner, and Ember needed some company other than Skulker.

Ember pulled out a glowing plastic baggie from her pocket. “Carrots! Here you go.”

“Carrots?”

“You never heard of that? Carrots are really good for dogs,” Ember said. She shook the bag, now addressing Cujo. “You want these? You want the carrots?”

Judging by his drooling mouth and the small whine that escaped his lips, Cujo did, in fact, very much want the carrots.

“Hang on, wait…” Danny guffawed, putting a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Wait, wait, wait. Ember, did—did you cut up the carrots?”

“Of course I did!” She said, pelting him with a tiny chunk of carrot.

It rolled off of his head, and he clutched his stomach, rolling into the air in a fit of giggles.

“It makes it easier for him to chew!”

“Oh my god,” he wheezed. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed Ember of all ghosts would be catering to a puppy.

Ember tossed a carrot piece in the air, watching as Cujo leaped up and caught it in his mouth. “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”

“Sure.”

“Whatever.” She turned to Cujo again. “Is babypop jealous of me? What do you think, little guy?”

Danny grabbed the carrot chunk from the ground and threw it back at Ember. Ever the ghost, she turned intangible, letting it sail through her.

Cujo, however, prevented it from hitting the ground again.

“Good boy!” Ember praised him.

Danny rose, stretching. “Anyway, I gotta get home before—before anyone realizes I—I’ve been gone. Uh…thanks for coming.”

“Yeah, nice to see you, dude. I’ll relay your message to the others. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

“And babypop?” she said, her brows knitting together as she studied him once more. Her eyes lingered on his chest.

“Yeah?”

She was silent for a moment longer. Then the spell broke, and her easygoing smile was back on her lips. “Heal up quickly, alright? Skulker’s ego’s too high right now. Someone needs to take him down a notch, if you catch my drift.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Danny gave her a two-fingered salute and flew off into the night, glancing back only once to see their receding forms. Like with most of his rogue gallery, Danny didn’t think any relationship between them would ever become a true friendship. An allyship? Certainly, but there was still too much history combined with a cavern of differences between Danny and the rest of the ghosts to get much closer than a few minutes of awkward conversation. All of them, Ember included, were ghosts—full ghosts. And Danny? Well…he wasn’t.

Even if the media still tried to pin that label on him. When they weren’t calling him a mutant freak, that was.

A few minutes later, he was invisibly crossing through his window. Muscle memory was kind to him, and the motions of closing his curtains and checking his surroundings before popping back into visibility and transforming back into his human form were hardly more than an unremarkable thought in his mind. The government could take away much, but not everything, it seemed.

He settled into bed, his eyes lingering on his nightstand drawer. Maybe he could…

But no.

He was turning a new leaf.

He was the model halfa now. Someone who did well in school, who didn’t fall asleep in class, who was a good son, nice to his family, and wasn’t a failure in every way. He was better, he was going to be better.

He could be even better if he just opened the drawer…peeked at the inside…what’s one more pill, Danny? What are you afraid of?

No, he was better now.

He was better now.

****

Huge thank you to @imekitty for being an amazing beta for this chapter and honestly the voice of reason here. Ended up taking her direction a LOT during the writing process and I'm really glad I did!

****

previous / next

#danny phantom #everything was white #my writing

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klaineharmony · 10 months

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Hello friends,

So . . . it’s been a LONG time since I’ve been here with any regularity. About a year. And that wasn’t intentional at first, and then life got so busy that I didn’t have much bandwidth for anything beyond my Twitter account. And I felt guilty.

I haven’t touched my stories in a year. I haven’t done anything fandom related, except for one of my scholarly projects, in a year. And I miss you all terribly, but life has been a lot as well.

The pandemic was a lot. I was starting to climb out of a tough bout of depression last summer, but it was slow. And I’ve been having menstrual problems, among other things, which I know now are probably perimenopause related, but it has not been fun, to say the least. I had a D & C last fall to make sure there was nothing abnormal or precancerous (there wasn’t, very thankfully!), and it laid me out for a week. My grandmother died, just a few days before her (and my) birthday in November. She was my last remaining grandparent, and that’s been really hard as well.

In January, I was on family medical leave helping my mother-in-law recover from surgery. I was teaching as well, as best I could long distance. I got home after five weeks and had to adjust to being in person all over again. And then April hit in the spring term and everything became a total blur. Spouse and I were both running constantly and totally exhausted. May wasn’t much better until school was over.

And then I was at a conference in Boston, Spouse toured a house, we put in an offer and had it accepted, and the offer and acceptance were both while we were in Maine for our anniversary! Which was great in one way, but trying to do business in a place with very spotty cell coverage is its own sort of stress. We had been looking for over three years for a house we could move into with my mother-in-law, and this house just - appeared, and will really work for us. We’ve been cleared to close, but have no closing date, and we’ve been cleaning like mad and trying to declutter so that our realtor can take pictures and get our current house on the market.

The long and short of it is, I’ve been so busy and so tired that I’ve just been trying to get through. On top of everything else, I have two book projects right now, both of which I am trying to meet short-term deadlines on. Thank the Goddess, I had a sabbatical approved for next year (while still being a Diversity Officer half time), so I will actually have time to deal with final manuscripts and page proofs and marketing and all the rest of that.

But I miss you all. I miss my fandoms. I miss my stories (Goddess, I miss my stories.) I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I’d like to know what’s happening with you all, what you’re into now (besides Klaine, because we will all forever love Klaine). Talk to me, and know that I am sending lots of hugs into the ether, to all of you. <333

#personal #life of an academic #about me

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

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So Long Version 2 Chapter 10

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: The moment we've been waiting for! I hope everyone is as happy with this ending as I am. Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story. It's been a lot of work, but the end result is something I am proud of. They say to write the story you want to read, and I'm definitely looking forward to reading this all the way through now that it's finally finished. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as much as I do! Let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

Ages 24 and 25 August 2004

“That’s… You… I’m…” Dean trailed off, unable to complete a thought. His eyes kept darting back and forth between my eyes and his name. He took a deep, calming breath. “Really?” He questioned like he couldn’t quite believe it. Like he thought he read it wrong or I’d drawn his name on myself in sharpie or something.

I dropped my shirt and shrugged, not entirely sure how to interpret his reaction. Was showing him a mistake after all?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.

“What, you mean like ‘Hey, Dean. As you know, I turned 16 today, and guess who’s name showed up? Yours! I hope that’s not weird since you turned 16 over a year ago and haven’t said anything to me, so even though you’re my soulmate, I must not be yours?’”

“What? You think-” Dean sat on the bed and began unlacing his left boot. I watched, confused.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. He yanked his boot off, pushed his sock down and pulled the leg of his jeans up a little.

“You thought this was one sided?” He asked incredulously. He lifted his foot onto the bed, showing me his ankle.

My breath caught when I saw my name there. This was real, then. I really did belong to him the way he belonged to me. He didn’t have a different soulmate and my gut feeling that we were meant to be together was right, not just the product of longing for someone I could never have.

“You really thought that there was a possibility I could ever have anyone other than you as my soulmate?”

“Well, to be honest I kind of assumed you knew. Maybe not about the soulmate part,” I clarified when he scoffed and raised his eyebrows. “But at least how much I like you.”

He was still staring at me with a mixture of shock and exasperation, so I nervously barreled on.

“I mean, it seems like everywhere we go people immediately pick up on it. And I tried to hide it, but apparently I haven’t done a very good job. So I figured you must know and were just being nice enough not to say anything about it. Besides, you never looked twice at me. What was I supposed to think?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the only one I ever looked at.”

“Tell that to all the girls you’ve been with,” I countered. “And look, I realize we weren’t together so you had the right to be with anyone you wanted. But don’t tell me you only had eyes for me.”

“It’s true,” he argued. I scoffed and he clenched his jaw. “The only reason I ever paid any attention to any of them is because I didn’t think I could have you, the one person I really wanted. And I seem to recall you going on a few dates yourself,” he answered.

“You might also remember that I only went on dates when friends set me up. I usually wasn’t thrilled about it and it never went past the first date. And that’s not even the point.”

“Then what is?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “You knew for a year and a half longer than I did. Why didn’t you say something?” Dean sighed.

“You know, when we were growing up, everywhere we went people knew how I felt about you. At every school the guys would tell me how whipped I was and the girls were always asking if we were dating. It shocked me how I was apparently so obvious and yet you could still be so clueless about it. I mean, you know me better than anyone. How could you of all people not see it? Even now you look surprised to hear it.”

I realized that while I was listening to Dean talk, my eyebrows had wrinkled together.

“Yeah, well. You were protective I guess. But that’s just who you are. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I know you think so,” Dean said. “But everyone else saw it for what it really meant.”

“This doesn’t really answer why-”

“Because,” he interrupted. “I’ve always known I’m not good enough for you, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to be with me because of the soulmate thing. And when you turned 16 and never said anything to me… I figured you just weren’t interested.”

“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know where to start. Uh…” I said, sorting through all the things I wanted to say to pick the most important. “Ok. So what you’re telling me is you knew we were soulmates the whole time?”

“Yeah. Do you know how rare it is for soulmates not to match up? Honestly, I kind of think it’s impossible. I think when that happens it’s just people falling in love with someone with the right name, but it’s the wrong person. It never even crossed my mind that your soulmate could be someone else,” he said.

“Then why did you seem so shocked when you saw my tattoo?” I asked pointedly.

“Oh, right,” Dean said, reminded of how this whole conversation had started. He grabbed the discarded med kit and gestured for me to lift my shirt.

“Dean.” I wasn’t in the mood for him to try avoiding things. We needed to talk about this.

“I’m not ignoring you. I really need to get you fixed up.” I looked at him doubtfully. “I am capable of talking at the same time,” he said.

I looked at him for a few more seconds, weighing the honesty behind the words. I decided he was just as eager to have this discussion as I was. I walked over to stand beside where he was sitting on the bed and lifted my shirt for him.

“So?” I asked. “Why did you seem surprised?”

Dean gently rubbed his thumb over the letters of his name, his eyes soft and a small smile on his lips. I shivered at the contact. Then he got to work on cleaning and stitching my side.

“I wasn’t surprised, exactly,” he told me as he worked. “Although I suppose it was a bit of a shock, seeing it for the first time. Knowing in your mind that something must be true and actually seeing it are two different things.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed, wincing at the first poke of the needle. At least this conversation was as good of a distraction as I could ask for.

“And I just figured if we’ve gone this long without ever seeing or talking about our tattoos, you letting me see it now must mean something.”

“It’s kind of hard to hide it right now,” I pointed out.

“You could’ve kept it hidden if you wanted to. It really wouldn’t have been difficult. Which is why I knew you wanted me to see it. And I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t want me to see it if you weren’t interested.”

I asked my next question. “You honestly thought I wasn’t interested in you?”

“After you turned 16 you never treated me any different,” he shrugged. “I figured there must be a reason for that.”

“There was,” I told him through gritted teeth. I really hated getting stitches. “It was because I was already so in love with you that finding out you were my soulmate didn’t really change things for me.”

He paused his work and looked up at me.

“You’re serious,” he said. “Really? That long?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” I smiled.

He looked away and continued stitching. He was almost done now.

“Why show me now?” He asked.

“Honestly? I was still nervous about it. If I was right about you having a different soulmate, I didn’t want things to be weird between us,” I told him.

“What changed your mind all of a sudden then?”

“What you said. About why you kissed me. It sounded so much like what I would have said if the situations were reversed that for the first time I let myself really consider the possibility that I was your soulmate too.”

I reached out with my right hand and threaded my fingers through his hair. I loved the feel of it. I loved how soft it was and that I was able to touch him like this.

“I don’t know when it happened. I don’t even know when I realized it. I just know I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t in love with you,” I told him. It felt kind of weird to admit it out loud, but also really nice. There was no point in hiding it now anyway. Might as well get it all out.

Dean finished with my side and I dropped my shirt as he stood up, forcing my other hand to fall from his hair. He was a full head taller than me and we were standing so close that I had to crane my neck to look at him.

“I guess that’s a good thing,” he said, putting a hand on my cheek. “It makes me feel better about the fact that I can’t remember ever not being in love with you.” Then he leaned down and kissed me.

This time I was a lot more prepared. This time I wasn’t so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even enjoy it. This time I felt everything. I felt how soft his lips were. I felt the way they moved with mine. I felt when his hand moved from my cheek to my neck and his other hand found its way to my back. I felt it when he leaned a little closer and deepened the kiss.

I lifted my arms up to wrap around his neck and winced at the slight pain it caused in my left side. I was fully prepared to ignore it, too caught up in the whole experience to care, but Dean noticed and immediately started to pull away.

“It’s fine,” I told him. I used my hands around his neck to keep him close and try to reconnect our lips.

“Jenna,” he warned gently. Our foreheads were pressed together and I could feel his warm breath brush over my face. “If you want me to keep kissing you, you’re going to have to keep that arm down.”

I just tried to catch his lips again.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You being in pain is a pretty big turn off.”

“You worry too much,” I huffed. But I obediently and dramatically removed my left arm from his neck. “Happy?”

“Smartass,” he said fondly. He slowly leaned in again. Very slowly. My heart raced in anticipation. Just before his lips touched mine, he pulled back.

“Dean,” I whined. He smiled and finally kissed me.

He moved the hand that had been around my neck to join the other at my back. I moved my left arm to his bicep, loving the strength I could feel there. We found a rhythm quickly, our mouths moving in sync. It was so easy to lose myself in him. In his kiss, in his touch, in the warmth of his body. I would gladly stay here forever.

The kiss was starting to get a little more heated, tongues brushing and Dean lightly nipping at my lower lip once, when his phone rang. He pulled back just the slightest bit, our lips nearly touching. He hesitated for a second, deciding whether or not to answer the phone I guessed. He gave me one last, quick kiss before letting go of me and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open and briefly glanced at the screen before answering.

“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted.

Disappointed about the interruption and slightly out of breath, I sat on the bed, leaning against the wall and listening to Dean’s side of the conversation. He filled Bobby in on everything that had happened. Well. Not everything. But everything regarding finishing the case.

“Alright, Bobby. Yeah, we’ll stop by next time we’re headed your way,” Dean said before hanging up the phone. He sat beside me on the bed. “Well that was good timing,” he grumbled.

“You didn’t have to answer it,” I pointed out. I decided it was probably a good thing we’d been interrupted anyway. We still had a lot to talk about.

“What if someone was dying?” He asked, half joking, half serious.

“Then they should have called an ambulance. You’re not exactly a doctor,” I said.

“Hey, I managed to stitch you up just fine.”

“That wasn’t life or death. You’re good for patching up, but you can’t do everything, Superman.”

“Next time I’ll just let it ring, then.” He held his arm up for me. I accepted the invitation and leaned into his side. His arm settled around me and I let out a content sigh.

“You know it’s been almost a decade since the last time we did this,” I said.

“Did what?” Dean was resting his chin on top of my head. My ear was pressed against his chest and I could feel its slight vibration when he spoke.

“Sat together like this.” I thought back to those days I’d been sick and how much I’d enjoyed being so close to him. Then I remembered what he said about that time during the dumb favorite memory game. “Did you mean what you said? At the hotel?” I turned my face up to look at him.

“Which part?” He asked, looking back at me. I gently elbowed him in the side. He knew what I was asking about.

“Ow!” He protested despite the fact that I definitely hadn’t hurt him. I gave him a look and he chuckled.

“I meant it. I think about it a lot. How good it felt to be able to hold you like that. Like this,” he said, briefly squeezing his arm tighter around me for emphasis. “How right it felt to have you in my arms. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. Well,” he smiled mischievously, “it was. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that kissing you is even better.”

“I won’t disagree with that,” I grinned. My neck was getting tired from the angle I was turned at to see Dean, so I looked away and rested my head back against his chest. I reverted back to an old habit, absentmindedly twisting the bracelet on my wrist as I thought through everything.

“What are you thinking?” Dean asked.

“I’m having a hard time believing this is real. I’m kind of still wrapping my head around that first kiss. Not to mention everything else,” I admitted.

“You know, the way you froze up at the hotel when I kissed you… I thought I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life. I was worried you were pissed at me for crossing that line and that you might want to leave when we finished the hunt,” he told me.

“More like it happened so quickly and took me so much by surprise that my brain stopped working.”

“Freezing up isn’t really a quality you want in a hunting partner. Maybe I should ditch you,” he teased.

“Maybe you should,” I agreed. “But good luck explaining to Bobby how you left me in Idaho to fend for myself. With an injury.”

“Mm, good point. Guess that means I’m stuck with you.”

“Guess so,” I smiled.

We talked for a couple of hours. Up until our stomachs were grumbling and we couldn’t ignore the need for food anymore. We went out to eat and when we got back we curled up together again and stayed up well into the night, mostly talking, but trading a few kisses as well. When I fell asleep that night, I knew I could never be happier than I was at that moment. I finally had everything I’d ever wanted, and it was even better than I could have imagined.

~~~~~

A couple days later we drove out to Bobby’s house. We decided to make a trip out there to see him like Dean had promised before we started looking for a new case. We wanted a few days off to just enjoy our new relationship before we got back into things and we only planned to stay at Bobby’s for the day.

We made it to his house just after noon. The old hunter was happy to see us of course. He hugged us both and then invited us in.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much around for food. I’ve been meaning to make a run to the store,” he said apologetically.

“No problem,” I said, holding up a grocery bag. “We came prepared.”

Bobby wasn’t exactly known for having a well stocked fridge. We knew it was possible he wouldn’t have much around, and we didn’t want to drop in without warning and just expect him to feed us.

“Of course you did. I guess I should expect that from you by now, shouldn’t I?” Bobby said to me.

“C’mon Bobby,” I teased as I headed for the kitchen. “You live in the midwest. You know you can’t just show up to someone’s house at meal time without bringing food.”

“Well, c’mon now,” Bobby said, shooing me out of the way. “You’re the guest and you brought the food. The least I can do is get it ready.”

He unpacked the buns, hamburger, sloppy joe sauce, macaroni salad, and potato chips we’d stopped to buy on our way into town. The three of us chatted while Bobby made the hamburger, just catching up on things since the last time we saw each other.

Over lunch Dean and I told Bobby about some of the more interesting cases we’d been on recently. Bobby told us about the research he was doing for another hunter and about how some guy named Rufus was harassing him to help him on a hunt.

We finished lunch and were heading out to the porch to enjoy some beers when Bobby’s phone rang.

“You two go on and I’ll join you when I’m done,” Bobby instructed.

Dean carried the cooler out and I opened the screen door for him. Bobby had left the main door open to let in some fresh air. It was a beautiful day. The temperature was sitting in the mid 60s, the sun was shining and there was nothing more than a light breeze occasionally drifting through the air.

Dean and I sat together on the rickety old porch swing, leaving the chair for Bobby. Dean put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into his side, enjoying the weather and the gentle rocking of the swing.

“Do you remember the summer our dads dropped us off here for a month?” Dean asked after a couple minutes of peaceful quiet.

“Yeah. Sam was obsessed with magic and spent most of his time trying to learn new tricks,” I recalled. “And you basically spent the whole month elbows deep in whatever car you could get your hands on.”

“And you,” he said accusingly, “did not make it easy for me to concentrate.”

“What?” I asked, pulling away from his side so I could look at him. “What did I do?”

“Nothing in particular. You didn’t have to. It was just the way you would sit close by and watch me work while you sang along to the radio. Or I’d look up and see you sitting right here,” he said, patting the swing, “reading a book. It didn’t matter what you were doing. I just remember thinking how beautiful and distracting you were.”

I blushed a little at the words and wondered how long it would take for that to stop.

“And all I really wanted to do,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Was this.”

He leaned in and caught my lips in a sweet kiss. I smiled into it.

“Well it’s about damn time,” Bobby drawled from the doorway. Dean and I jerked apart, startled by his sudden appearance. “A man could grow old and die waiting for you two idjits to get it together,” he said as he opened the screen door and stepped outside. His voice was as gruff as usual, but there was a twinkle in his eye and a small smile on his mouth.

“Wait, you knew?” I asked. My heart was still racing.

“‘Course I did. I don’t think there’s anybody that’s seen the two of you together and doesn’t know.”

I wanted to object, but then I thought back on all the times people had picked up on my feelings for Dean. And how he had apparently experienced the same thing.

“So I guess we were just the last ones to know,” Dean said a little frustratedly.

“Looks like it,” Bobby smiled. “Congratulations you two. I’m happy for you,” he said.

“Thanks Bobby,” I answered.

He reached into the cooler and pulled out three beers, popping the caps off and handing us each one.

“Here’s to the happy couple,” Bobby said, clinking his bottle against both of ours.

I smiled and took a sip along with the two men.

Here’s to a long and happy life with the man I’m lucky enough to call my soulmate, I thought.

Ages 24 and 25 October 18, 2004

“Do you remember the day we met?” Dean asked one afternoon. We were driving down an empty highway, two hours into a five hour trip.

“Of course,” I answered. I’d been 9 years old. Dean was 11. Dad and John were planning on finishing their hunt that day. They’d already had a little bit of trouble with the police and they wanted us in the same place so they could make a quick getaway when they were done if necessary. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it,” he shrugged. Then, after a second he smiled. “You were so nervous.”

“Yeah, well my dad had never just randomly dropped me off with strangers before. I wasn’t sure what was going on,” I defended.

“I remember seeing you just standing there all shy, staring at your feet. And I thought, ‘Who is this girl? Why is Dad leaving her with us? She’s just another person for me to have to protect if something finds us.’”

I felt a mix of pride and sorrow rush through me at this new piece of information. At the insight it gave into the man Dean was, and really, had always been. Even at such a young age, his first thought was about protecting others.

“But then we played a few rounds of slap jack and I realized how competitive you are. And I figured there must be more to you than the defenseless girl I thought you were.”

I laughed, remembering exactly how that had gone. Dean had started out going easy. I could tell he was trying to make me more comfortable, but I wasn’t having it. If I was going to win the game, it was going to be because I’d actually earned it. So when the next jack was laid down and Dean waited a second before going for it, I waited with him. The second I saw his hand start to move, not quite as fast as he could’ve, I moved too.

As I took the pile of cards I looked up into his wide eyes and smiled. “If you’re just going to let me win, don’t bother playing.”

“Then I saw how sweet you were with Sam,” Dean continued. “And I found out you knew about hunting which is something I could never talk about since Sam didn’t know yet. It was nice to have someone else around who knew.”

He was quiet for a minute, but I could tell he wasn’t done talking yet. I waited for him to sort his thoughts.

“I’ve been trying to figure out when I realized. And I think it was then. The day that I met you, I knew what you were to me,” he said. “Not consciously, of course. But there was a part of me that knew. It’s why I felt so protective of you so quickly. And why I was excited the next time we saw each other. Even though I barely knew you.”

I smiled at him, my heart feeling full enough to burst.

“I love you,” I told him.

“What?” He asked.

“I love you,” I repeated, amused at the surprise in his voice. Not at the words, but that that had been my reply.

“What makes you say that?”

“What makes you say any of the things you just did?” I answered.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about it and I wanted you to know,” he said.

“And I just wanted you to know,” I said. “I spent a lot of time not able to say it. Now that I can… well. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dean glanced at me, eyes soft and smile bright. He held his arm out in invitation. I scooted to the middle seat and leaned into his side as he put his arm around my shoulder.

“Jenna,” he said. I turned my face in his direction and he leaned in for a short kiss. “I love you too.”

Epilogue

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #original female character #bobby singer #soulmates #soulmate!au #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x soulmate!ofc #so long v2

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bardicbeetle · 3 months

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An exercise in old muses and people who don't belong to me.

Welcome to I'm running an RPG and writing fic about plot points that I didn't get to because my players went a different (and equally fucked) route.

“You made it, good.” Christa smiles, easy and practiced. This guy is no different from any of the other desperate fledglings she’s made. “Follow me—we should get started as soon as possible.”

“You uh, you really have a cure for this?”

“I’m working on it,” she clarifies, she’s always found it best not to outright lie about that part. “it’s still experimental but it does help keep you in control and keep the hunger minimal. I’m hoping that I can get to a point where—”

“—What the fuck?”

Ah.

He’s spotted Jonathan.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Christa says, words laced with just a hint of suggestion, just an urge of don’t worry, let it go, he’s not important. “He killed my mother, tried to kill me, I’ve been trying to come up with a worthwhile way of destroying him but—” she stops, mostly for effect, one fist balling up. “—I just, just haven’t thought of anything that holds up to what he did. He’s harmless, and mostly unconscious, he won’t be a problem.”

Thankfully, the little mental push seems to put Aksel at ease.

At least enough that he follows her the rest of the way into the lab.

“I’m sorry about Rissa by the way,” Christa starts again, “she’s the whole reason I’m doing all this—she got turned when we were in high school and I always felt like it was my fault—” She weaves the story about Jonathan and his sister and the death of her mother the same way she always does. About how Rissa was infatuated with Jonathan, and his sister had wanted Christa for herself—and how all of it went to hell in a matter of weeks.

She talks about giving Rissa her blood.

About bleeding herself dry for years just to keep Rissa from hurting anyone because she couldn’t control herself.

Christa tells the story the same way she always does.

About Jonathan coming back.

About him forcing his blood down her throat after nearly killing her.

About him hunting Christa just as much as she was hunting him.

There’s a hypnotic edge to the way she talks.

Something she’d become very good at about two years back.

It made things easier.

Pressing her mind into other peoples.

Willing them to follow her lead.

It does snap when she tightens the first cuff, and Aksel jolts like she’s burnt him.

“It’s okay.” She says softly, “The process can hurt—it hurts less if you don’t thrash around. I’ll undo them as soon as it’s done—you have my word.”

And she would.

He just wouldn’t be alive for that part.

It’s almost a shame this time around. He seems so genuinely lost. As though the whole ordeal has sent him spiraling. It’s not something she’s seen often, but he’s not the first. A lot of the time people call her sooner—bare minimum before they kill. That alone made him a bit of an outlier.

It didn’t matter though.

The last time she’d done this, she had managed to stand outside in the sun for a few hours—but that was on half blood. She wouldn’t get the same result here.

A shame.

The warmth had been nice.

But his blood was new and weak and it would be decent stock to keep in case Jonathan got too skeletal or Rissa stopped providing her own.

Then she could keep going.

Eventually perfect at least the halfway point.

Get Rissa back in the sunlight.

And maybe someday, back to aging like she should.

“How did you… start all this?”

“It was a stupid idea at first,” Christa says, because it was, “the idea that a full transfusion of human blood could reverse the whole process. Drain out all the vampire shit, put human stuff back in, boom, hello sunshine and daytime tv. But it’s not that easy. Even our bodies don’t love being fully drained—it’s delicate keeping the balance right so that you don’t turn into a husk—”

“—a what—”

“—Don’t worry.” She says again, “I’ve done this enough times now that there’s really no risk of that. Besides, that was the first iteration—and like I said, it was a stupid idea and it didn’t work.” She walks away towards the cooler, leaving him tied up, arms legs and chest all fully strapped down to her one little office chair.

The bottom of the cooler is host to a handful of yellowy-clear IV bags, and she picks one out at random.

“Drink this—all of it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“What is it?”

“It’s plasma—dosed up with an alarming amount of painkillers. It’ll keep your hunger down while I take some blood and it’ll stop some of the pain from the next part. The dose has to be high because your body doesn’t respond the same to any kind of influence anymore. Drugs, booze, caffeine, none of it. Unless it’s a lot stronger.” This again, is half true. There are painkillers in there. But there’s also enough tranquilizer to put out a fucking moose. She’s not in the mood to hear screaming today.

The noise Aksel makes says none of these words inspire confidence. But he’s already tied down, so they don’t have to.

The last thing Christa does, as usual, is click on the webcam sitting on top of her monitor, aligning it properly so she can start the log.

“Alright, Aksel. Let’s get started.”

#writeblr #lsdente #the magician cries #my writing #vampire writeblr #this is literally just from page to post no editing no nothin' so it's probably rough #but i do like it

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yersina · 11 months

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Tbh I wanna ask the whole thing but to stick to the realm of reasonability may I ask 7, 10, 14, 23, and 29? And anything else you might want to answer if there's any. 🦭 [decompresses from the lack of pressure]

[weird questions for writers]

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Ohhh what an interesting question! I think what I love most abt writing—why I still write even if it only results in unfinished wips—is… hm how to put this… an execution of an idea? Putting my own spin on a concept? Bringing smth to life from my mind and onto a page? Like I just love thinking about things, and writing gives me a way to share that w other ppl or put it into words, and that’s what’s best about it!

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

LOL uh the first definition that comes to mind for a piece of writing ‘haunting’ me is in the ‘god why did I write this’ sense, in which case I’d probably say my fanfic from my hetalia days……. A full ten years ago at this point…… But I’m also an advocate for not being ashamed of your writing no matter how old or cringy it is bc we all had to start somewhere right? And it still brought me joy at one point even if it doesn’t anymore, so I wouldn’t exactly say that it really does haunt me per se haha

The other sense of ‘haunting’ is probably ‘I think abt it a lot’ in which case—my wips haunt me. OTL

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I do! Not as much (read: at all) anymore bc my friends and I have all diverged in terms of preferences and also physical location, but in high school, sometimes I’d even give my kindle acct in order to share ebooks haha.

But I’ve also always been a library person, and my physical collection is exceedingly small. I also don’t tend to reread anything? So I only buy books if there’s a reason I’d want to display it and/or come back to it. And it’s hard to lend books if you don’t own them haha. I would lend them if I had any though!

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

So. Most often I’m on my bed (full size, cheap, IKEA) and on top of my blankets (cheap, Amazon). I do most of my work in bed and lying down lol and also on my phone bc if I waited until I had my computer I would get nothing done. It’s probably either late at night or very early in the morning (bc I am unfortunately both a night owl and an early bird—no sleep for me!), so the light is rather dim. I have several larger stuffed animals w me on my bed (one is ice bear from CN, one’s a weighted dragon plushie, and one’s a really loooong shiba-dog-thing that’s probably close to my height) that I can prop my head up on or squash beneath me, depending on my mood. I also have an extra pillow to put against the wall for if I do decide to do anything while sitting up (currently cuddling it as I write this). A lot of what I own is a shade of blue or green. There’s a string of white Christmas lights around the wall next to my bed bc I can’t stand the brightness of the overhead light. Currently there’s a half-finished quilt rolled up beside me.

Really tho I write anywhere inspiration strikes me. Once I wrote a decent chunk while sitting in my car in the parking lot of a homegoods lol

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Hm… my inspiration probably comes most often from other people! I had a ton of fun with all the sctir prompts I got a while back :) A lot of my favorite ideas that I’ve executed comes from putting a spin on an existing trope or concept, or from seeing smth around tumblr or twitter and wanting to write my own version.

My inspiration well runs dry very often, actually. I’m a huge binge-writer—most of what you see from me is stuff that I wrote within a couple days, which is why most of my fics tend to be short. I’m definitely not one of those ‘write a little bit every day!!’ kind of people—that would never work for me, and kinda drains my soul. Trust me I’ve tried lol (case in point: I managed to do an entire nanowrimo a couple years ago (the whole 50k!) and never touched or looked at that fic ever again. Was a fantastic exercise, but just not the way I work). Usually if I have an active wip, I do try to go back to it every couple days, just to make sure I don’t forget about it entirely haha. If I’m not actively working on an idea, I try not to let it bother me too much; the waiting is as much a part of my writing process as the actual writing. I’m all for making it easier for yourself—fanfic writing is a hobby, not a job, and I’m here for my own enjoyment more than anything else. I want to lean into it most when I’m happiest, yknow? :)

Bonus question for fun: 11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Yes absolutely!!! This isn’t to say that you should ruthlessly get rid of what you love most in your writing, but definitely don’t be too attached to every single word you write. The writing advice that I’ve found most helpful so far in my writing journey is: if you’re stuck in your writing, the problem isn’t with the current scene or paragraph, it’s what happened before. I’ve also had an English teacher suggest to us once that we should try rewriting something from memory to pare down to what’s most important (bc anything you don’t remember isn’t essential). I start over all the time if smth’s not working for me and I delete and go back if I get stuck. If I’m getting rid of smth that’s longer, I do try to keep it around or move it to a separate doc in case I need to use it later, or to try and incorporate into a different scene so that I’m not dropping it entirely, but I’ve found myself doing that less and less as I go. It’s annoying, maybe, but I don’t grieve haha

Kill your darlings, for sure 🔪

(ALSO the best part abt fanfiction is that even if a scene that you really love doesn’t work in the main sequence, you’re allowed to write spin offs and side stories and extra scenes as much as you want to lol. Like killing your darlings doesn’t have to mean you resign it to never seeing the light of day, maybe you just fake their death and move them to a different neighborhood skdnejcbjdd)

#sina answers #bijoucher #ask meme #sorry this got long!#was definitely fun to think abt :)#a lot of my writing process and habits boil down to ‘make this easy for yourself’ haha

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survey--s · 8 months

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602.

At the moment 1. How are you? I’m doing pretty good apart from having period pains. 2. Are you with anyone? Simba is asleep behind me, Purrlock is on the bookshelf and I think Toby is on the fridge. Mike and Archie are both upstairs. 3. Are you doing anything besides this survey? Watching a re-run of Below Deck. 4. What are you listening to? Below Deck. Simba is also purring right in my ear lol. 5. Are you talking to anyone? Not at the moment, no. 6. What are you wearing? Black leggings and a black and white floral tunic dress/top. 7. Are you eating or drinking anything? Just a can of Pepsi Max. 8. Is there anything going on in the room you’re in? Just the cats sleeping and me doing this survey. 9. How is the weather outside? Windy and getting dark even though it’s not even 8pm yet. 10. What time is it? It’s currently 7.37pm.

Lasts:1. Who is the last person you talked to? Mike. Unless you count the cat, lol. 2. What is the last food you ate? Salt and vinegar crisps. 3. What is the last text asleep? That makes a ton of sense, lol. 4. Where is the person you last hugged? He’s upstairs playing on the xBox. 5. When is the last time you cried? I can’t remember the last time I cried. 6. What did you do for your last birthday? We had a snow day. I had a couple of cat visits to do and then we just chilled at home as most of the roads out were closed. I think we got takeaway too. 7. Where is the last person you kissed? Upstairs in bed. 8. Besides anything computer related, what is the last thing you touched? My nose as it just got really itchy. 9. When is the last time you changed clothes? This morning after I took a shower. 10. What was the last TV show you watched? Below Deck. Before that it was Two and a Half Men.

What’s/Who’s your favorite: 1. Color? Purple. 2. TV show? FRIENDS. 3. Food? Steak, fries or pizza. 4. Season? Autumn as long as it’s not too wet. 5. Movie? Alice in Wonderland. 6. Item of clothing? I don’t really have a specific favourite, it depends on my mood. 7. Band? The Beatles.

8. Place to be kissed? My lips, cheek or neck. 9. Friend? My closest friend is Mike. 10. Sibling? I don’t have any siblings.

Listings:1. List five green things in the room you’re in.There isn’t really much in here that’s green. Uhh…a pair of shorts, some wax melts, a book cover, a DVD box and there’s some green in a painting too. 2. List four best friends. Mike, Susie, Jenn, my mum. 3. List seven things you’ve done today. Had a lie in, had a shower, made a bacon sandwich, binge-watched Below Deck, played “find it” with the dog, took a bunch of surveys and watched Alice in Wonderland. 4. List one place you’d like to visit. Japan. 5. List three holidays you like. Christmas, Halloween and Easter. 6. List two favorite stores. Fat Face and Waterstones. 7. List one reason you and your ex broke up. He lied to me about how many children he had. 8. List four things you like about your appearance. My height, my piercings, my tattoo and my nose. 9. List eight things you like about your best friend. He’s honest, kind, hard-working, loyal, funny, sarcastic, animal-loving and an all-round good egg.

10. List two favorite colors. Purple and grey.

Random questions 1. Would you care if a friend was friends with an enemy of yours? I mean, it’s not up to me who other people are friends with. 2. What was the last book you read? I honestly don’t remember. I’m not really a big reader. 3. Are you looking forward to going back to school? I haven’t been in any kind of education for 12 years now. 4. Was this one of your favorite summers? Why? I mean, it wasn’t a bad summer but I wouldn’t say it was one of my favourites. 5. Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do? Visit Japan. 6. Where is the person that means most to you right now? Upstairs. 7. How many best friends do you have? I wouldn’t really describe anyone as being a best friend. 8. Do you have any cuts or bruises on your body right now? Sure, I always do. I work with animals so it’s kind of part of the job. 9. Are you holding back doing or saying anything? No. 10. What time will you go to sleep tonight? I’ll probably go to bed in about an hour, but I don’t normally go to sleep until closer to midnight.

#survey #surveys

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glycerineclown · 1 year

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WIP Weekend - "the trouble we're in"

Joel smuggles condoms for use at a brothel in the Boston QZ. He gets his needs met on the side, and never has to feel anything, ever.

We all know how that’ll turn out for him. Joel Miller/OFC, pre-canon.

Here's a sneak peek! Current word count: 17,168. Thanks @puddle--wonderful for the tag!

Her apartment is small, but Cameron’s done her best to keep it looking decent. Last winter she stripped off the peeling floral wallpaper and scrubbed the walls until they were as close to white as possible. She has an alarm clock that doubles as a CD player, and a full-size mattress, raised up on cement blocks in lieu of a bedframe. The bookshelf built into the wall is full to bursting with old paperbacks, stacks of overflow spilling onto the floor beside it. In the bathroom, there’s an old-fashioned washing board, and clothes hanging to dry on the shower rod.

She heats up leftover soup on the stove, and eats it with a slice of rosemary bread that she baked herself. For dessert, it’s half a snickerdoodle—they get all sorts of things as tips. One of her regulars likes to bring her fresh aloe from a plant he keeps at his place. Another pays for her to have lunch with him every other Monday.

Joel Miller lives upstairs, so it’s easy enough for him to darken her door long after curfew, when most of the building is asleep. Cameron puts on a pot of tea when ten rolls around, and there’s a soft knocking as her cup is getting cool enough to drink.

Cameron cracks the door, and then swings it wide. “Hey, Red.”

Joel scowls, brushing past her into the apartment. “Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

Cameron sighs, and closes the door, flips the deadbolt. She was a junior in high school when the world ended. Old enough that she knows he’s seen Shawshank. “But you’re the man who knows how to get things.”

Joel takes his pack down from his shoulder. “That may be true, but I sure as shit ain’t Morgan Freeman.” He unsnaps the main pocket, and pulls out a box, handing it off to Cameron. “They’re from February.”

Block letters on the cardboard read, 350 count, large size, ultra thin, latex, lubricated—Marlene’s delivery of condoms, fresh from Atlanta, not expired. A separate order from what’s rationed to everyone else by the military.

Birth control pills haven’t been an option since six women in the Atlanta QZ suffered strokes. It’s not like the FDA is still around.

Joel stands up straight, and slings his bag back over one shoulder. He’s a lifesaver for this, but she’s learned not to lay that on too thick. Cameron sighs, peering up at his face. She just has a lamp on in the living room, but there are street lights outside her window, and it’s bright enough that she can see how dusty and exhausted he is. Smuggling makes ends meet after days of hard labor, so he’s broad and strong, too.

The first time she met him—years ago, now, the fall after he moved in upstairs—she knocked on his door and sold him three onions. He’s always kept to himself. Before she started working for Marlene, the yearly crop constituted all the interaction they’d ever had.

Cameron blinks, and looks away. “I’ve got your payment. Have you eaten?”

Joel opens his mouth like he might refuse her, but then he shakes his head. “Whatcha got?”

“Soup and fresh bread.”

“Tomato?”

“Lentil. And I made ginger tea, but I’ve got whiskey, too. Take a load off.”

Cameron carries the box over to the bed, and bends to slide it under the mattress until tomorrow, before pulling out the bag of ration cards. When she returns, Joel is seated on her sofa, eyes half-open, legs spread wide. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s sucked his cock, but Joel looks about ready to pass out.

She tosses the bag onto the coffee table in front of him. “A hundred and ten. I’ll get you that soup.”

#joel miller #the last of us #the trouble we're in

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sturchling · 3 years

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Based on that salt trope where Marinette gets kicked off the class trip so she decides not to help plan for it or do fundraisers? Then the trip ends up not happening due to not raising the money or not preparing anything? The class always gets angry at Mariette for not helping them, but what if Marinette pointed out that it was Bustier's job to help them, not hers?

Marinette was furious. Lila was up to her old tricks. She had convinced the entire class to kick Marinette off the trip. She had told them that she didn't feel comfortable going on the end of the year trip if Marinette was going too. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cause trouble. But she has been so mean to me, I think I'll just sit this out." The class, however, was quick to offer a different solution. They decided to get Marinette kicked off the trip. They approached Mrs. Bustier and explained everything.

The next day, at the end of the school day, Mrs. Bustier made a very public announcement of her decision. "Class may I have your attention? Marinette, it was brought to my attention that some members of the class aren't comfortable with you being on the end of the year trip with us. With that in mind, I want to ask you to be the bigger person and sit this trip out." Marinette was very upset. This was supposed to be the biggest trip yet. A week long trip to Los Angeles, with a lot of fun activities all over the city. And besides, Marinette is the class rep and Mrs. Bustier would expect her to fundraise for this trip! "But Mrs. Bustier I-"

"No buts Marinette. Now, I am asking nicely and for you to be the bigger person. Be an example for the class, and do the mature thing and skip the trip so everyone else can enjoy it. If you don't, I will just go to Mr. Damocles and have you officially removed from the trip, but I am giving you this chance, please don't make me regret it." Marinette wanted to argue, but knew it wouldn't get her anywhere. So, she just quietly nodded her head. The class snickered as the bell rang and they were dismissed.

Marinette raced home, clearly upset. Her parents saw her face as she rushed in and knew they needed to speak with their daughter. So they finished with the few customers they had, and closed the bakery for a little while to check on her. They found her in her room, crying on her chaise. It didn't take much prodding from them for Marinette to tell them everything. They were livid at how Mrs. Bustier had spoken to their daughter and what she had asked of her. It was completely unfair, and wrong of her to ask that in front of the class. "And the worst part is she is going to expect me to still help with the fundraising even though they won't let me go!" Marinette dissolved into a new round of tears, as her parents thought of what to say. Finally, Sabine spoke up. "Marinette, you don't have to help with anything. If you aren't going, than you aren't helping pay for it, simple as that." Marinette whipped her head up and stared at her mom. "But mom, I'm the class rep, I have to help-" Tom stepped in, "No, you don't have to help. If they don't want you on the trip then they do not deserve your help. Besides, it is your teacher's job to help with fundraising. She will handle it."

After a little more back and forth, where Sabine and Tom learned the extent of the extra work Mrs. Bustier had been giving to Marinette, they finally convinced Marinette not to help with fundraising. So, for the next several weeks, the class went about their lives, thinking they were going to have a great trip. but then they got the shock of their lives.

At the half way point of the year, they had a meeting to go over the trip. Marinette sat in the back, just reading a book and ignoring their conversation, determined to stay out of it. Mrs. Bustier started off the meeting, asking how much money the class had raised. They reported their numbers, which was about the same they had made last year. Of course, now that Marinette wasn't over working herself to make up the difference, they were significantly short of their goal. The class started to worry about money and why they didn't have enough this year. It always worked out and they made the same amount as last year, so why were they so short? "Don't worry class. I am sure that Marinette has gone above and beyond like she always does and can cover the difference. Just like I am sure she has made reservations for everything and has a great trip planned."

The class looked up at her expectantly. They may have kicked her off the trip and think she is a horrible bully, but they had to admit that the girl was the best at fundraising and planning. But they didn't get the reassurances they were hoping for. Instead, Marinette just disinterestedly looked up from her book, and said "No." before returning to her reading. The whole class was stunned. Mrs. Bustier recovered and forced a smile. "What do you mean 'No' Marinette?" Marinette sighed, placing a bookmark in her page before gathering her things to leave. "I mean no. No I haven't raised any money, and no I have made any reservations or plans." The class was horrified and instantly started yelling.

They called Marinette every horrible name they could think of. Saying how selfish she was and she should have been working just as hard as them all this time. Marinette, feeling frustrated, slammed her book down on the desk. "Why should I have done anything for this trip? You all kicked me off of it, remember? Why should I spend my time raising money and planning a trip that I won't be a part of. Besides, that isn't my job. Mrs. Bustier is the one who is supposed to help with fundraising and she is the one who is supposed to make the reservations, not me. I only ever did it, because I knew she wouldn't. But that isn't my problem this year. Good luck getting everything ready. This late in the year and this far behind, you will need all the luck you can get." With that said, Marinette grabbed her things and left, leaving the class in horrified silence.

They hadn't realized that Marinette wouldn't help with fundraising after they told her not to come on the trip. They thought she would be mad, but still help to try and convince them to let her come. They supposed that was a bit naïve of them. But now what are they supposed to do? Mrs. Bustier was just as lost as they were. When Chloe was rep, her father always handled everything. And when Marinette became rep, she took on all the extra responsibilities Mrs. Bustier didn't want, specifically funding and planning the class trip. They would be hard pressed to get everything set up for their trip to LA with the time they had left. The class bombarded Mrs. Bustier with questions, that she had no answers to. Now what would they do?

As Mrs. Bustier predicted, they weren't able to salvage their amazing trip to LA. They tried, and raised a lot more money, but it wasn't enough. They ended up having to settle on spending a few days at Disney World Paris. It was an okay trip, but not nearly as cool as LA would have been. When the class got back to school, they were ready to tear into Marinette for ruining their trip. But when they arrived, they found that Marinette had transferred out of their class and had made a bunch of new friends in her new class. For a long time, anything the class tried became a disaster, as Mrs. Bustier hadn't had to do any of this kind of work in a very long time. Lila was left stewing in her rage. When she got Marinette kicked off the trip, she never expected things to go this wrong. Her dreams of an amazing adventure in LA with Adrien and the class were destroyed, and any dreams she had of amazing future trips were likely going to remain simply dreams. All because she got Marinette kicked off of a trip.

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