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#i swear to god is there one day that goes by without a post about him
atopvisenyashill · 3 days
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I swear if I see one more mind numbing stan post about 'active' and 'passive' women in asoiaf fandom I am going to scream. Like all the 'active' favorites *cough SIs coughs* only get that privilege through the indulgence of a powerful male relative (See Arya or Lyanna learning swordplay) or straight having access to a deus ex machina (see Rhaenyra or Dany), but without one or the other the patriarchy still catches you (see Helaena or any of Jaehaerys's daughters) or it kills you (see every violent death by childbirth like Alyssa, Aemma, or Lyanna).
FRIEND. YES. MY GOD. ITS THE DUMBEST SHIT.
For one thing, a character can fall from active to passive or move from passive to active on the flip of a dime. Lyanna goes from being an active participant in her life to dying alone in a tower of sepsis. Cersei goes from actively politicking in King's Landing and being one of the faces of the War of Five Kings to beaten down and passively accepting what's happening to her (...for now) after her walk of atonement. Arya sends quite a bit of her time at Harrenhal very passive, simply trying to live from day to day before taking action to get herself, Gendry, and Hot Pie out of Harrenhal. Sometimes, a woman is simply put in a dangerous situation where the best thing for her to do is essentially play dead - if she's not actively and literally dying, that is.
Beyond that, the definitions people have of "active" and "passive" is like, just the dumbest shit imaginable. Helaena is often called a "passive" character despite having a relatively active role in keeping King's Landing calm and under control while Aegon is king until B&C, where she becomes quite passive due to, you know, extreme trauma. Sansa is seen as "passive" despite taking an active role in her own escape from King's Landing, from plotting with Dontos to making an alliance with the Tyrells. She is "actively" trying to sabatoge Littlefinger and Joffrey by undercutting their comments, saving people they don't want saved, and drawing attention to herself and her identity but none of that is seen as active because [incomprehensible gibberish]. Similarly, Rhaenyra is seen as an "active" character despite her "active" actions being...really similar to both Cersei and Sansa ie being in charge of "passive" activities like ruling on the Small Council, sending messages instead of fighting herself, planning her own escape, fighting for her own ability to marry who she chooses, etc. Like, people will look at Rhaenyra fighting against her marriage to Laenor and call that "active" but when Sansa refuses to kneel for Tyrion that's "passive" because...*cue fandom wank* Rhaenyra never not once fights in the books nor do we see her actually physically fighting in the show yet she's an active character while other women who rely on playing politics over commanding armies are considered "passive."
It's just the dumbest sort of discourse that is applied in the most lopsided, clearly angling to keep fandom wank going instead of actually engaging with the text imaginable. I am once again directing people to Brienne and Catelyn and asking why only certain types of power are celebrated, why only certain actions are considered "active", and why only certain types of women's stories are allowed to be told, in a series teaming with all sorts of varied women's stories.
"Brienne, I have taken many wellborn ladies into my service over the years, but never one like you. I am no battle commander.” “No, but you have courage. Not battle courage perhaps but … I don’t know … a kind of woman’s courage."
"Fighting is better than this waiting," Brienne said. "You don't feel so helpless when you fight. You have a sword and a horse, sometimes an axe. When you're armored it's hard for anyone to hurt you. "Knights die in battle," Catelyn reminded her. Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. "As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them."
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apomaro-mellow · 5 months
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Every Baby Needs a Daddy
Part 1/?
Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve
Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.
But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.
It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.
Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.
"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.
The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.
"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.
"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."
"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.
"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."
Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"
"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"
Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.
"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."
"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"
"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"
"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"
"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."
Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"
Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.
"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.
"What's your poison, Steve?"
"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.
"Then don't. Order something."
"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.
"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."
"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.
"Really."
Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."
Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"
---------------------------
Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.
Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....
$10.43
And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.
Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.
He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.
Hell would probably freeze over first though.
Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.
It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.
"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."
The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.
"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.
When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.
Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.
"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.
Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.
"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.
Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.
"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."
Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.
"Really?"
"Really."
So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.
--------------------------
Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.
"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."
"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.
"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.
"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"
"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.
Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"
"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.
Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.
"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.
"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.
Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."
"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.
"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."
"Aren't you in a metal band?"
"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."
A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.
"Never?"
"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."
"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.
"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.
After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.
He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.
"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.
"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."
Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.
"Ready to go?"
"Ready", Steve smiled.
The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.
"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."
"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.
Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.
"Well, this is me", Steve said.
"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.
Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"
"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.
"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.
"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.
"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.
Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.
"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.
"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.
"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.
Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.
Part 2
If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.
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bayambii · 3 months
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fontaine hands . . .
warnings: swearing, 4.2 archon quest spoilers, hands, a little steamy in clorinde if you squint
characters: wriothesley, neuvelitte, lyney, lynette, navia, clorinde, furina and freminet
bambis comments: hai cuties!! i have an obsession with hands so i thought it would be a perfect first post LOL
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WRIOTHESLEY
◦ jesus fucking CHRIST, this man has large hands. i mean like second to none in teyvat i would say
◦ his hands are bruised and often dirty. when they’re not inside of his gauntlets, his right is covered with dark bandages. he goes really soft when you take the time to clean his hands or even like his nails
◦just like massaging his hands while he tells you about his day, rubbing his temple with his freehand while he goes on and on about one inmate who always tries to pick a fight
◦speaking of his nails! they’re stubby and not painted. he doesn’t bite them they just like break off naturally due to the nature of his job and his gauntlets
◦he has silver rings for every finger it looks like, and he fidgets with them when he’s talking to anyone, rolling it around his fingers and back again
◦HIS HANDS SMELL LIKE TEA RAAAH
NEUVILLETTE
◦ skinny ass hands, but they’re long.
◦ he almost always wears his gloves, because underneath he has scales on his hands. his hands aren’t fully dragon like, still keeping a human like color, but many teal scales decorate his hands.
◦his fingernails are naturally tinted a little blue, and they’re on the longer side. he keeps them clean and pushes his cuticles back often
◦he’s often writing with his hands, rolling his quill/pen around his fingers when he thinks. his hands are skilled at writing, and can write rather fast.
◦a wrist roller. his wrists get tight from writing for hours on end and always makes sure to roll them out.
LYNEY
◦OH MY GOD. don’t even get me started…
◦another fontainian who’s hands are often concealed in his gloves. a magician never reveals his secrets, does he?
◦he has regular length hands, but they’re on the skinny side.
◦his hands are almost always clean, and have a very soft texture.
◦imagine lyney late at night practicing new card tricks without his gloves, using you as his test audience (he shows you all his tricks first anyway)
◦he has trimmed nails, that he paints black and red, to match his whole theme. they tend to be chipped however, and he needs lynette or you to keep repainting them.
◦his hands are obviously very practiced, and he takes great care of them
LYNETTE
◦she has smaller and skinny hands, very petite and cute
◦ due to her cat-like nature, her hands are very sensitive, and she prefers to keep her gloves on
◦ when she holds your hand she likes to keep her gloves on, just so she doesn’t get overwhelmed
◦ however, she likes taking her gloves off to hold your face, and memorize each and every crevice and dimple with her hands
◦ when she feels comfortable, she’ll let you see her hands, and trusts you to know her comfort level with her sensitivity
◦she keeps her nails long, and painted a teal. she often keeps up with her nail care, and looks after your nails as well
◦her hands smell like tea, like wrio, due to her often drinking and brewing the beverage.
NAVIA
◦ADORABLE HANDS, and very well kept!
◦ skinny and longer, and a little freckled near her wrist.
◦she only keeps a glove on one hand, and she prefers to hold your hand with that one!
◦very well kept nails, with sapphire colored nail polish adorning them. she seems like the type to get like gems and stuff put on her nails.
◦she knows you like her hands, so she always makes sure to put extra time into caring for them
◦her hands are incredibly soft, and don’t really get that clammy
◦navia would only get clammy if you were flustering her, which is not an easy feat
CLORINDE
◦beautiful lady, long skinny hands again however she doesn’t know how to look after her hands
◦ ITS NOT HER FAULT NO ONE TAUGHT HER OKAY!! before starting a relationship with you, she never put much thought into her hands!!
◦she often keeps her gloves on, and like washes her hands when needed but she doesn’t take care of her nails or put lotion on or NOTHING
◦her nails are stubby, and might have leftover polish from the last time you attempted to paint her nails
◦with handling her weapons, she has very tactful hands and is not very clumsy
◦where she puts her hands is very, how do i say, purposeful
◦she might feign oblivion, but she knows exactly what she’s doing with her hands
FURINA DE FONTAINE
◦oh ho ho? you want to see the dear lady furinas hands?
◦only furina would take this much care into something she’s going to just put a glove over but WHATEVER
◦she’s got small hands, with many jewels and rings adorning her fingers
◦she looks after her nails with the upmost pride, and keeps them constantly painted and pristine
◦like clorinde, she is very purposeful where she puts her hands. your dear lady knows you, and knows exactly what makes you flustered (and oh does she love that)
◦she would love to help you look after your hands, and even help you paint a most magnificent nail art on your nails oh ho ho!
FREMINET
◦smaller hands, with larger palms, with FRECKLES!! and i mean freckles .
◦freminet doesn’t necessarily have clumsy hands, due to his work on per and other mechs, but his hands aren’t as practiced as other fontainians
◦his hands can also get clammy due to his shyness, and doesn’t want to bother you with that
◦HOWEVER, you can hold his hand all you want underwater. there’s no risk there, and he’s fully confident. maybe he’ll work up to holding your hand above the sea
◦he is very shy, and earlier on in your relationship, and is careful if he puts his hands on you if he does AT ALL…
◦ often under the water, his nails are always clean but still stubby, and never painted (but he wouldn’t be apposed to you painting them) ((just be prepared for a flustered frem))
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dootdootwriting · 11 months
Text
♡ SLEEPING with the HSR men ♡
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featuring: dan heng; welt; sampo; gepard; jing yuan tw: some light cursing from me, sampo's is a bit suggestive type: fluff, a bit silly pronouns used: none a/n: recreating the genshin version of this post which went viral to announce that i'm now writing & accepting requests for HSR.... and not b*ha that was a moment of weakness sorry everyone LOL
utc for length!
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DAN HENG
naps all the goddamn time
the astral express will be cruising along and he'll let out this giant yawn and march gives you the side-eye and you know. your boyfriend is about to gently grab your hand and sleepily lead you into his... room (?) for a power nap
these can last anywhere from fifteen minutes, where dan will just barely wrap his arms around you and close his eyes for a bit, to three hours, where his head will hit his unfortunately thin pillow, and he won't even have time to give you a kiss before he's down for the count
he's an incredibly heavy sleeper, which works to his benefit and his detriment
he gets nightmares relatively frequently. while they don't happen every time he gets the chance to rest, it's around a third of the time, and sometimes he'll even wake up in a cold sweat and flail around to make sure you're still with him
even if you don't wake easily, seeing your sleeping form nearby calms him down. he knows he's safe.
actually, just having you sleep next to him makes it less likely for the nightmares to appear, and eventually, he makes such a habit of getting you to come with him every time he goes to bed that he can't actually sleep without some part of his body touching you
if you're on a particular stop or for some reason you have to sleep away from him, dan heng gets little to no sleep. he clutches his pillow as a (not very effective) surrogate, and wakes up with a sore neck and less braincells than usual
he needs his beauty sleep.
if dan is asleep next to you, and you wake up before him while he's holding you, don't bother trying to get up. he won't stop you from leaving, but he'll do something even worse: he'll lightly grab your arm as you get up and look at you through one bleary eye with the haziest expression on his face, and he'll ask you to stay, please?
alright fine. after you use the bathroom. needy ass (affectionate)
WELT YANG
"i don't need sleep, i have coffee"
get into bed old man or i swear to god
welt tries to have a sleep schedule, honestly. he's just not very good at it
he's a chronic caffeine drinker, and while he knows it's not good for him, he's also a slight workaholic and when he gets into the groove of working on something, he needs to stay awake to see it through. unfortunately, this means he's often up until the early hours of the morning, and you're fast asleep in bed before he even realizes what time it is.
he makes it up to you. whenever this happens and he finds you conked out how you were waiting for him, he picks you up and puts you in a more comfortable position, and tucks you into the covers next to him once he joins you
he needs to realize that taking a nap with the love of his life is just as refreshing, if not more, than a mug with four shots of espresso is
(you have seen him go to a coffee shop and order a "quad espresso" with the most tired, deadpan expression and have the baristas look at him in awe and fear)
the type to tuck the both of you in and forget that he has his glasses on. luckily at this point pompom is an experienced glasses mender.
he has lost at least six pairs to this plight.
welt is an average sleeper, and he doesn't move around much, so despite his aversiveness to actually getting into bed, he is a good sleeping partner.
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GEPARD LANDAU
gepard enjoys sleeping with you so much that bedtime is his favorite part of the day
well, for multiple reasons, actually. he really likes the intimacy that goes along with washing up together and getting ready for bed
he's one to lie awake with you for a few minutes and read or scroll through your phones or just talk to each other before you go to bed. it's his favorite time to unwind and destress from the duties of being captain.
he tries so hard to let you fall asleep first, but damn if he isn't exhausted. he usually ends up falling asleep before you.
gepard's sleep schedule is very strict and regular. he goes to bed probably between ten and eleven at night and has to wake up for work around five am (rest in peace)
this gives him anywhere between six and seven hours of sleep every night, which is just enough to get him through the day and back to you in the evening.
he's not exactly a light sleeper? he wakes pretty easily but it takes a few buzzes of his alarm before he realizes that he's supposed to be waking up then.
gepard wants so badly to be the partner who stays in bed "five more minutes" with you, or calls in sick from work just to stay in bed for the day. unfortunately, with his position, it just isn't possible, which breaks his heart every morning.
to make up for that, he leaves a note at his spot on the bed -- it's anything from "extra hard day today most likely. i'll miss you <3" to a silly, horrible doodle of him giving you a kiss
and then he's off to smack monsters over the head with his sister's guitar case
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SAMPO KOSKI
"sampo koski always goes to bed on time!"
lies. or, well, he tries? i guess?
he means to, anyway... there's just always something to distract him, whether it be you, or social media, or some brand new business opportunity pinging him
being a traveler, the two of you often sleep in hotels or motels across belobog. it's not bad! sampo always reserves rooms in the nicest area nearby -- he likes to treat you to the nicest sheets and the best room service
i mean, you can't really have any fun if you're not comfortable~
smack him with a pillow please. or a brick!
doesn't have the tiniest bit of a bedtime routine. he decides he's tired, he flops on top of you, and he's out
sleeps like the dead. there is no waking sampo koski until it is time for him to wake up
the morning is when you remind him he has to shower and brush his teeth, to which he reluctantly agrees and smiles at you bashfully
which, actually, is kind of cute
this isn't to say he doesn't care about his appearance -- he DEFINITELY DOES. he just oftentimes forgets to wash up before he fals asleep.
he's another one who has to be touching you at all times while he rests. whether it be a hand, a foot, his head on your chest, your head on his chest... it doesn't matter. he likes the security he feels when he knows you're there with him.
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JING YUAN
jing yuan always goes to sleep on time!
truth. he actually gets agitated when his sleep schedule is thrown off.
he has it written down in his head; his bodily clock is incredibly regimented. his sleeping times, eating times, and self-hygiene times all have to be the same every day, or his whole day feels off
he doesn't need an alarm clock. he wakes up at the same time every day, give or take a half hour. if he wakes up any earlier or later than his usual waking up zone, he goes into a sour mood as if he just knows the rest of the day will be bad.
he's another heavy sleeper. jing yuan prefers to sleep on his back and have you sleep on his chest. or on some occasions, he'll spoon you.
the lion sleeps at the foot of the bed
another part of his nightly routine is goodnight kisses and bedtime meat. he grabs a little chunk of chicken or beef for the kitty and gives each of you a kiss before he turns out the light and goes to sleep
if you prefer to stay up for a while doing your own things, he has no qualms with that, as long as it doesn't disturb his rest. things like having your phone out or a reading lamp on don't bother him -- he can go to sleep regardless of the lighting conditions.
i'm just imagining how fucked up he gets from jet lag. poor guy. aeons forbid he ever travel to a different planet with a separate passage of time
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mo0nfairy · 1 year
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😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.
(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎
part 1. part 2. part 3.
tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.
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⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)
you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.
you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.
it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.
you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.
opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.
you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!
you are supposed to love him! you have to!
and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.
now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.
claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.
leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.
you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.
he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.
he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.
by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.
cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.
you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.
"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.
"you're stuck with me to the end."
your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.
you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.
"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.
"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.
his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.
he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.
"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.
through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.
and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.
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the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.
HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!
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danopdf · 1 month
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Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons
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Notes: Welcome to my Ron X reader headcanons! It goes through everything from Taccoa - post war! Word Count: 13,768
Warnings: Usual Band of Brothers and war stuff, swearing, once you get to the smut part there's too many things to give warnings for (it's not nasty just super smutty and a lil' kinky) Enjoy :D <3
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TOCCOA / NORMANDY
For the first bit you're at Toccoa you think that he HATES you because he’s constantly glaring at you the whole time from afar
It gets to a point where you start getting really nervous whenever you catch him staring, so none of the guys ever leave you completely alone just so they know you’re safe, and because, “we don’t know the guy, he could be crazy.” “Donny, we signed up to jump out of planes, we’re all crazy.”
He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot
Nothing fancy, just something like an extra pair of socks when you get to England, or one day after you’re being teased by Don, Muck, and Penkalla and they accidentally rip the binding of your book there’s a fresh brand new copy packaged neatly on your pillow
All of the boys of course go ‘OOOOOOOOoooOOOOOoo” every time something appears just to tease you
all through the second leg of training in England, he’s still staring at you but now it’s not just from across the training area, it’s also from across the pub, and the meeting rooms, and the mess hall
“If he keeps looking at me I’m gonna start yelling at him-”
“Maybe don’t do that while he’s at the range.”
everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it
“y/n you may wanna ask Doc to check your back out from all of the knives Speirs is glaring into it-“
“MUCK-!”
You notice the stares are starting to happen less and less as it gets closer to D-Day
You honestly get kinda lonely without him hovering constantly, to the point where the rest of the guys start to notice you looking around for him
“Looking ‘round for your guardian angel y/n?”
“Toye I swear to god!”
The day that you were supposed to drop into Normandy comes and gets cancelled, and you’re too anxious to sleep and decide to slip out and go for a walk to clear your head
You’re wandering around the empty streets taking it all in because for all you know, this may be your last night on Earth and goddamn it if you can’t get hammered you’re gonna take a nice fucking walk
You’re 20 minutes into your walk along a few of the random streets and just enjoying a final night of calm, when you see a figure across the street from you smoking
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and notice who it is (it’s Ron obv), and once you do you just pause because for the first time, you’re looking at him before he’s looking at you
When he looks up from lighting his cigarette his eyes go wide and he takes a small step back because you’re looking at him, ‘oh god why are they looking at me like that-’
You just give him a small smile and raise your hand in a wave
He just stares back at you until you turn and walk away, still smiling but just thinking ‘Oh god why did I wave at him? You looked like an idiot in front of Speirs nice going-’
D-Day arrives and you’re sitting with the rest of Easy getting your final mail call before you jump and you’re just pacing waiting and mildly freaking out
By this point, you’ve gotten so much comfort from being able to look around and find Ron to ground you that before you drop your head is on a constant swivel trying to find his eyes in the crowds of soldiers
You finally find them and when he looks at you he can see just how scared you actually are, (as much as you try to hide it)
Ron decided to make his way over to you because ‘they’re scared, I should go comfort them- that’s what you do when you like someone right?’
He walks right up to the small group you’re standing next to and they go completely silent as he does, but he just walks right past them up to you and you’re terrified because he’s never been this close to you before you’ve only seen him from across a room
You both just stand there staring at each other for a moment before Ron says “I’ll see you down there. Good luck.”
You’re just standing there trying to process just how close he is to you finally, and are trying to take in all his features and the sound of his voice because, ‘If I'm going to die the final thing I want to see is a good looking man.’
One of the boys has to cough really loudly to get you to snap back to reality
“Oh-! Yes- Yes Sir, good luck to you too…I hope to see you down there…under different circumstances than I usually see people…” You try and joke, half gesturing to the white medic band across your right bicep
You’re laughing a little awkwardly because ‘God he is good looking up close’ and he’s not laughing because of course he’s not, but he does have the absolute smallest quirk of the corner of his mouth, indicating that he heard your joke at all
One of the boys from the group just leans to another and goes “God that was bad, he’s gonna shoot them the second we get down there-”
You’re all loading up into the planes, and you stop on the last ring of the ladder to take a final look at allied Europe and you catch Speirs getting into his plane across the tarmac
He turns his head and for the second time he makes eye contact with you, rather than the other way around. He just nods and climbs in, hoping that he sees you down there, alive.
Once D-Day hits and rumors start about him killing that group of POWs everyone is like ‘fuck that’ and stays clear of him even more than usual
You hear the rumours and get a little anxious about seeing him again because you don’t really know anything about him, just that he’s handsome and a bit of a badass
For a while you only see him out of the corner of your eye, while you’re either waiting with Easy or while rushing by him trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out on a stretcher
Then the day comes when you have your second conversation and you start to realise that he’s just another man trying to get through this, and that maybe he’s not so bad
it happens when Tab gets stabbed and (as one of the medics for Easy) Joe Liebgott calls for you to come help Tab
your second real “conversation” is you turning to Speirs and demanding his compress bandages to stop the bleeding from his 3 wounds
he’s not used to being given orders, he’s a CO for God's sake, but when you do it he listens like they’re coming straight from the president himself
he’s always just admired from afar (except for your single previous conversation at the airfield), but he’s listening to you like ‘yes ma’am/sir whatever you say’ he is WHIPPED
you grab his hand and press it onto one of the wounds to compress it and his mind just stops for a second, because your hand is so warm and soft and the way you’re talking to Tab telling him that he’s “gonna be okay, don’t you worry Tab, I gotcha’” makes him feel something new
you leave with Tab to take him to the med station behind the line and Ron feels his heart tug at the sight of you walking away from him, (even if it is to help someone)
you come back from the aid station that you brought Tab to about 2 days later, and in those two days Ron is constantly hovering around Easy, whenever he gets a chance to see if you’re back yet
Easy is just like side eyeing him every time he comes over thinking ‘oh god he’s gonna kill us, he’s stalking his prey’
but once you get back and he sees that you’re okay, (just covered in a little more blood from helping at the aid station) he can breathe again and goes back to Dog Company like nothing happened
After a few days of being behind the lines you start to receive a few gifts
Definitely not as many as before you dropped but one every week or so
One day you get handed a letter from a runner and it has nothing it but a simple watch with a leather strap, no note or anything, but it’s convenient because your watch got broken during your last trench raid and have been in need of a new one
he has to suppress a smile each time he catches you checking the watch
Speirs gets a pretty nasty cut on his hand during a raid and instead of being concerned he’s decided it’s his chance to have another conversation with you, so instead of going to his own company's medics he makes a beeline straight for you.
you’re standing with a group of Easy men and he just comes walking right up to you being all like “y/n.” “o-oh! yes Sir- " "need your help.” and then he just wanders away knowing you’ll follow him
the boys you’re standing with just give you a look like you’re a dead man walking. George legit says “it’s been an honour serving with you” like you’re about to die (and honestly you’re so nervous you may just as well)
walks into the makeshift aid station where Gene is working on the shrapnel in Winters leg and Ron just leans against a table and hold his hand out to you, the blood is steadily flowing out of the cut and your eyes go wide and you start to freak out because “Sir this is a serious cut you should have gone to someone sooner! Where's your company medic? They could have helped you faster than coming to me!”
he just stands there staring at you with this blank expression but his eyes are so soft when he looks at you fussing over his cut.
(Gene and Winters are off to the side just giving each other a look, ever the observant ones)
you tell him his hand needs stitches but only a few. He's not been listening to you for the past 20 minutes while you stop the bleeding and disinfect his cut, he’s just staring at you and the way you look in the dirty window light.
he only snaps back when the stitching needle first threads through his skin and he takes a sharp breath in because he’s so caught off guard
your head snaps up to him when he hisses and you look so sad that you’ve hurt him
“Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you, but we gotta get this closed up.”
your hand that is holding his steady moves slightly so you can run your thumb along his palm to sooth him
his whole arm is tingling when you touch him so gently, completely forgetting about you stitching his gash up until you pull your hand back like “alright Sir, you’re good to go. be sure to keep it clean, and in about a week your company medic can take those out for you.”
Just grunts and nods a thanks to you as he walks out the door.
Gene laughs a little and you turn to him all “what? what's it?” “nothin’…” “what do you mean ‘nothing’!” “just funny is all…you’re good to go Sir.” Gene just drops the conversation after that and leaves you spiralling as to what he meant by ‘nothin’’
when you make your way back to the group you were hanging out with, Malarkey just starts yelling “they’re alive!!! you made it, you stayed into the jaws of death and lived to tell the tale!!!”
You all laugh and the guys continue to tease you and you’re just standing there sputtering out excuses and blushing. Ron is just watching from afar through a cloud of smoke and his mouth tilts up just the slightest
You don’t have many conversations with him, but you both try and subtly go out of you ways to be near each other
Even the men start to notice that whenever Speirs has a moment of freetime he’s lingering around Easy or the aid station
You tend to walk around together a lot, (he’s always waiting outside the aid station for you after a long shift), it’s either you both walking in silence or you talking while he smokes
Rarely does he ever talk on your walks and it’s even rarer that it’s about his life outside of the war
The one or two times he slips up and tell you something about himself you feel so warm and hold that so close to your heart that you start a small list of facts about him in your notebook
Nothing huge just small things like, “like peonies”, “got a really bad haircut when he was 10 that he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from”
Ron wants to know everything about you and loves to hear you talk
He also starts a list of facts about you (that you both compare much later in the war)
(After a long while of knowing each other the lists have certain things crossed off like, “favourite colour is green the blue of the lake in his hometown”, and “their favourite song is ‘everybody loves my baby’ ‘sweethearts holiday”)
one day a book you were just talking to Webster about appears at the top of your pack, and sure it’s a little beaten and battered but you like it nonetheless, and all the guys start losing their minds because “WE’RE IN A WAR ZONE AND HE'S FINDING TIME TO GO BOOK SHOPPING FOR YOU???”
At this point you realise that you actually start to like-like him
You spend so much time together that the boys start poking fun at you and the officers start making some subtle remarks at Speirs (looking at you nix and Harry)
Everyone gets taken off the line and has a break pass in Aldbourne and it’s there that Speirs decided that now is the time to make some sort of move on you
Ron is picking you up from a long shift at the aid station with Gene and you look practically dead on your feet as you walk out, your hair is a mess, there’s blood on your clothes and under your nails and you’re pretty sure there may be vomit on your boots but to him you look like an angel with the light from the aid station coming from behind you giving you a halo
You walk up to him and give him a tired smile, already used to the routine of him walking you back to where you’re being billeted in, when he just blurts out
“Will you go dancing with me?"
You freeze, staring into his eyes (which are full of fear, although you’d never tell anyone that) and break out into a huge grin
“yeah…yeah I’d love to go dancing with you.”
Ron lets out the biggest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard and you gently slip your hand into his as he starts to walk
You just have the biggest grin on your face as he drops you off at your door and says “so, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”, “I’ll be waiting.”
This man is at your door 10 minutes early just pacing trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door, and you’re just watching him pace giggling to yourself because this man will jump out of a plane and kill Germans and show no fear, but he gets scared picking someone up for a dance
He finally knocks 2 minutes before he said he would be there and you rush to the door, pulling it open and freezing
Because good god he is in his dress uniform, clean shaven, hair neatly done and he is beautiful
You both stand there looking each other up and down for a few moments, taking the other in, since you’ve never seen each other cleaned up in your dress uniforms before
“Hi-” “You look-”
He takes (steals) one of the jeeps from the base to take you out to a small dance hall that’s just far enough out of the way that none of the regular enlisted men can get to it without a vehicle (perks of being a scary officer), so it’s you, a very small handful of other officers and the locals
This boy can DANCE
I fully believe that he would dance with his sisters and mother and grandmother when he was younger (in the way that you force your youngers to play games with you when you’re kids)
He’s also strong (HIS ARMS IN HIS DRESS UNIFORM ARE MMMMM-) so he can swing and spin you around like nobody’ business
This boy is smiling and laughing like there’s not a single thing wrong in the world, because when you’re in his arms that’s how everything feels
You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly
You spend that last half of your night tucked together at the back of the hall in a booth, nursing lukewarm beers with your legs thrown over his and just whispering and giggling with each other
He is running his fingers up and down your leg!!!! He’s not doing it as any form of proposition, he’s doing it because he genuinely loves to just touch you and finds so much comfort in it
You’re both just talking and telling each other about yourselves and what your lives are like/what you want them to be after the war is over, (“If I knew all it took to get to know you was a few drinks, I would have stolen Nix’ secret stash.”)
You’re just constantly leaning closer and closer to each other throughout the night, to the point that your lips are basically brushing every time you speak
At the end of the night he drops you off at your house (he spins and waltzes you up to your door. Yes he’s tipsy.), and you lean in and give him a kiss, just a quick peck before rushing out a “Good night, I had a wonderful time!” and running through the door
You peek out the window to see him leave but he’s just standing there for a second, in a slightly tipsy daze because, you just kissed him, and he’s pretty sure his heart stopped
The next morning you wake up with a mild hangover and memories of an incredible night
You somehow manage to pull yourself out of bed, strip off the last of your dress uniform from last night and get yourself down to the mess hall in your OD’s
The second you have your food and walk over to Easy the boys lose their minds and are cheering and giving you pats on the back
You’re so confused because “what’s all this for? The war end while I was asleep?”
“Heard you had a little date last night with a certain officer-?”
Your head snaps over to Gene because he was the only other one at the aid station when Ron asked you out
“GENE-!” who looks smug as fuck as you start throwing wadded up napkins at him
Ron is watching from the officers table, smirking at how flushed you become from all the teasing
Nixon just leans over and goes, “You chose a good one Sparky. Those boys might be scared of you, but if you break their heart, they’ll break your fucking neck.”
I don’t think that you put a label on what you are, at least not for a long while since you’re both so scared of losing the other and in war nothing is guaranteed
You both just know that if you need someone to talk to or just are in need of some comfort you go to each other
 You start to seek each other out unconsciously, eyes immediately searching for each other in every room and in every group after every mission
If someone is looking for one of you they know to look for the other because you’re never far behind each other
There’s a joke going around within Easy that you can’t ‘sleep without your teddy bear’ because you can’t sleep very well without Speirs
Sleeping cuddled up with Speirs in a pile of hay, leaves you better rested than sleeping alone on a real bed
You never tell each other you love one another until you go on leave in Paris, up until then you just say, “Come back to me.” “I will. Promise."
And the second you get back from anywhere you make a b-line for each other and say, “You came back to me.” “I promised, didn’t I?”
(You tell him that you love him first though. He doesn’t even hesitate to say it back.)
I don’t think that y’all kiss a lot just because Speirs is a very reserved person with a reputation to keep up
He does love to drag you behind buildings, away from prying eyes to kiss you or make out with you (he LOVES to make out with you against a wall where you can both just keep pushing against each other- we’ll get to this later, this man makes me have many thoughts)
You and Ron are sitting at the back of the room, just holding hands and playing with each others fingers, half watching the movie when some officer comes bursting through the doors turning on all the lights, shutting off the movie and yelling about moving back out
Ron and you look at each other because, “I didn’t buy a scarf in Paris."
BASTOGNE
At first you two are excited because you can have secret foxhole rendezvous, within a week you’re both like, ‘I am freezing and emotionally distraught, do not touch me’
The only person who bring you any comfort when you can’t be near Ron is Gene, but nobody wants to lose both their medics in one blast so you’re either in a foxhole by yourself or a little bit off the front and sitting with Joe Liebgott and/or George Luz
Everytime Ron comes by the foxhole the guys are still scared of him so they tend to stay silent while the two of you talk or they just completely dip and leave the two of you alone
(they realise how little time the two of you get to spend together now that you’re both: a) on the front line again, and b)meant to be on full alert to watch for any stragglers trying to force their way through)
The guys are still weary that you’re with Ron (in what sorta way you’re together the guys still aren’t 100% sure still), but I think that seeing the way he treats you in Bastogne changes that
He’s constantly making rounds, and “mysteriously” ending up at your foxhole
(he blames it on how sparse the line is but everybody knows that’s a lie because that man knows where everything is at all times)
You both don’t talk a lot during Bastogne, finding more comfort in physical closeness and sharing what little warmth you both have with each other
You’re both freezing but somehow Ron never seems to shiver, like he can just will his body not to, whereas you’re just shaking like a leaf as he hold you
On Christmas you’re huddled in your foxhole with Joe and George, and Winters comes crunching through the snow towards you
Being the nicest man ever he just crouches down and tell you
“Go.”
“‘Scuse me Sir?”
“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”
You’re out of the foxhole the second he says ‘Christmas’ with a quick “Thank you Sir-really thank you!” over your shoulder as you’re moving as fast as your frozen legs can carry you
Plopping into his foxhole with your blanket and he’s startled for a second before smiling at you and in just the absolute softest voice
“Hey sweetheart, Merry Christmas.” with the sweetest smile that warms you from the inside out
He got (stole) a gift for you. It’s a non-army-issued scarf that’s your favourite colour.
You gave him a photo of the two of you that you’ve been secretly holding onto since you got them developed 
It’s a photo of the two of you getting ready to have the actual photo of the two of you in your dress uniforms taken, but it's just him looking down at you as you fix his tie
He won’t admit it but he tears up a little when he sees it, because you’ve been getting the shit bombed out of you every day, you’re freezing to death, you don’t have enough of anything and everybody is so tired, but this photo is so domestic and sweet, and it reminds him of when you were anywhere but here and he just loves you so much he can’t fucking stand it
New years eve comes around and you’re in your shared foxhole with Liebgott and about 2 minutes before midnight Ron comes to do “his rounds” and “make sure everybody’s dug in properly”
(at this point everybody knows that if Ron is seen around Easy he’ll say it’s to check on everybody, but they all know he just wants to see you and make sure you’re okay)
He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake
You startle upright and when you realise nobody is hurt you look and see Ron next to where you were sleeping
“Ron!” you’re so sleepy but so excited to see him for the first time since Christmas day, that his heart just about bursts
Just just motions you to follow him which you happily do, he’s a few paces ahead of you and you job a little to catch up to him and slip your freezing fingers into his fingerless glove covered ones
He leads you a little ways away from the other foxholes and behind a few trees (not so far that you couldn’t reach one if you started getting bombed again but here they won’t hear whatever you both say)
“What’s up Ronnie?”
He just holds a finger up for you to wait, after about 20 seconds of silence he whispers
“3…2…1” and gently cradles your face and kisses you so sweetly that you can’t help but sigh into it
It honestly turns into a light makeout before you pull back from him
“Wha-...what was that for? Not that I’m complaining but-”
“Happy new year sweetheart.”
You just beam at him because you may not have remembered but he did (specifically so that he could have an excuse to celebrate and make out with you)
“Happy new year honey.”
The day to take Foy comes finally and you’re sent out onto the field with the boys
You and Gene are not too far away from each other just incase the other needs any assistance
Ron is having the words day of his life, because he’s just stood up on that hill watching the battle take place, and he can’t do anything to help you
You’re hiding behind that building with Lipton when you hear someone calling for a medic on the other side of the street
Ron just got the order to take over and he’s about to start running when he sees you go down
you stuck your head around the corner to get a better look at who was yelling and you get *ping!*’d by a bullet, right off the side of your helmet, throwing you back onto the snow
Ron takes of running through the field because ‘oh god they’ve been hit’ and he needs to get this situation under control because god knows Dike isn’t going to
he takes over for Dike and starts giving out orders before running to “talk to carwood” (check if you’re alive)
he sees you sitting up against the brick wall partially covered by Randleman’s arm comforting the best he can in this situation you as you shake -because, sure you may have been through various war zones in the past year and a bit, but everybody knows that you don’t kill medics- and he can finally breathe a sigh of relief as he realises you’re not hurt just extremely shaken at the close call
When Carwood tells him they need to link up with I company he doesn’t hesitate to start running again, you lean forward trying to grab at his jacket yelling for him to come back
he ignores you, knowing that if he looked back at your terrified face he wouldn’t be able to move forward
Carwood leans over to tell you that he’s made it to I company, but you’re just sitting there shaking because “oh god he’s gonna die, he’s gonna fucking die- Lip why would you tell him that? You know how he is!”
When Lip peaks his head back around the building he sees Ron running back to you and decided against telling you because he knows that’ll just make you worse
the second Ron makes it back to you, you're pounding against his chest with closed fists and yelling at him through tears that he’s “-an asshole! what the fuck were you thinking?! what if you got hit- i can’t fucking stand you!”
Ron isn’t hurt because he knew that was going to terrify you but he had to do it
He’s not even paying attention to you tbh, he’s talking to Lip because he needs to get you safe first, reunions are for after the battle is done
Once the battle is officially over you’re all sitting about, most of the men sitting on the tank in the centre of town, singing and being filmed by the camera men.
you’re standing partially off to the side next to George, practically ignoring Ron -who is lingering nearby talking to Winters- giving you glances every few seconds
He knows you have every right to be frustrated and angry with him because he put his life at risk multiple times without thinking of the consequences other than he ‘needs to end this gotta make sure you’re safe’, but that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less
suddenly a shot rings out from the attic of one of the destroyed houses and a bullet whizzes right by you, everybody scatters, George grabs you and pull you behind the building with Shifty
you’re completely frozen in George’s grip, terrified that you almost got shot again
And “Jesus Christ, don’t they know you’re not supposed to shoot medics, they’ve got a fucking armband for a reason” from George behind you who has an iron grip on your arms
waiting a few moments after Shifty took the shot people nervously start walking back onto the street, but Ron makes a beeline for where George is still gripping onto you (explaining that he “can’t lose another friend he just can’t”)
Ron just grabs you and pulls you into him, you tuck your head right between his shoulder and jaw, your cold nose against his neck causing him to shiver
he just holds you and you hold him
cut to: night in the church and you’re finally warm and able to shed some layers since you’re no longer freezing to death
Ron walks up to you, no jacket on just his sweater with the army-issued suspenders hanging around his waist (‘he looks like such husband material- now is not the time you’re supposed to be mad at him!!!’)
“Can I speak to you…in private…” he leads you through the church to one of the back rooms and closes the door so you can speak freely
You both just stand there staring at each other, both being too stubborn to apologise first
You’re just staring at him in the candlelight for a moment, taking in the way the light flickers off his features and his eyes and you just burst into tears, bringing your hands up to over your face
Ron is so startled it takes a moment for his brain to reboot and realise ‘holy shit they’re crying’ and scoop you into his arms
He rubs the back of your head and you just weep into his chest, crying out run-on sentences like “I’m sorry i was hitting you I was so mad at you- why the fuck would you do that-” as he tries to comfort you between your sobs, “I’m sorry-” “What if you had gotten hit, I couldn’t have gotten to you, I would have just had to watch-” “I’m so sorry” “I don’t hate you I promise, I’m sorry I was so mad-”
Ron just stands there rubbing over your head and back, rocking you in his arms as he lets you cry about everything that’s happened
Once you settle down a little bit so now you’re just hiccupping and the last few tears falling down your cheeks Ron just whispers into the crown of your head “I thought I lost you…”
You pull back a little and tilt your head up to look at him “...what do you mean? Just because you scared the shit outta me doesn’t mean I’m gonna leav-”
“No when you- I saw you get hi-” He closes his eyes to try and calm himself, just imagining what had happened to you and what he thought happened to you brings him to tears, “I saw you fall and lay there and I thought I just watched the love of my life die in front of me-”
“Ron-Ron please look at me…” He has to will his eyes open, ‘I’m here, I’m okay I promise. A little scared, a little dinged up, but I’m safe, and you’re safe- and we’re okay.” you both just lean back into each other and hold each other for a few minutes, both trying to calm yourselves and reassuring each other that you’re okay
Gentle “I thought I lost you” kisses !!!!!!
About an hour after, you and Speirs disappear you come back out to the main room, the choir is still singing and a few of the boys look over, ready to poke fun at you and lighten the mood, but the second they see your face they back out because, you may not let on but you’re just as affected by everything as everyone else is, and you watching the man you’re in love with risk his life was finally your breaking point
You fall asleep in that church cuddled up on one of the pews towards one of the side windows, Ron sitting sideways on the pew with his legs laid out, you’re laying cuddled into him with your back against his chest and holding his arms wrapped around you
You both just whispering to each other how much you love one another between sleepy kisses as you fall asleep
HAGENEAU
Hageneau isn’t much better emotionally, everybody is still cold and miserable, and people keep dying even though you’re covered by houses and roofs
The only saving grace is the single warm shower with no soap, the clean uniform and the uncomfortable squeaky mattresses
Speaking of the showers, the officers get their own shower area away from the other men, that are broken into small cubicles for a bit more privacy
Ron sneaks you into the officers shower so you can have some time for just yourself, instead though you ask Ron to stay with you
He's hesitant because you never get any time to just be alone, constantly surrounded by other soldiers or on occasion being shuttled to the aid station as an extra set of hands
But he takes one look at you, covered in blood and dirt, barely able to keep your eyes open, cold and so so upset, and he folds like a lawn chair, nodding and following you to one of the stalls
When you shower together this time nothing about it is sexual, it’s the complete opposite of your time in Paris, nobody is laughing and making soapy mohawks or having really good shower sex. You’re just standing near each other, sometimes not even touching, just enjoying the warm water and the feeling of weeks of dirt and blood running down the drain
You both stand there a few times, looking at each other and the others body, taking in all the changes that your body has gone through since before Bastogne
You spend some time just running your hands over the others' new scars, some are fresher and some have faded with time. There’s a few scars that were fresh when you were on leave and when you both run your fingers over them for a moment you can imagine you’re back there safe and haven’t yet gone through the hell-on-earth that is that forest
Then the ground rattles with artillery and you decide that’s enough time wishing you were somewhere else.
Ron claims a room in the least destroyed house he can find and is like “I found a room for us :)” and something about the way he says “us” makes you feel warmer than the sun and it lifts your mood so much for such a little thing
The night of the prisoner snatch is stressful and you’re not even going across the river
You’re sat on the edge of the allies bank right where the boats will land, just incase anybody is hurt
You spend the entire time after they launched crouched against the cold dirt hoping that your friends make it out okay
Of course nothing goes right and it’s practically a fist fight as the boat sails across the water
You’re right there the second they land and jump into action
The boys carry Eugene Jackson towards the basement where the rest of the men had been waiting, struggling as he writhed and cried from the pain, limbs flying out every which way, and eventually smacking you right in the face
Your eyes water as Eugene's fist collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back into the wall
There’s yelling and chaos and you holler for someone to “go grab Doc Roe!”
By the time Gene gets to you your fresh uniform has blood smeared on it from trying to cradle Eugene's face to keep him still and your hands are wet with the red liquid
Gene gestures for you to move and allow him to take over which you do willingly, now turning to Babe to try and distract him from the horrible screaming and crying Eugene is letting out
Ron is sitting up on the bed in the he had commandeered for you both when you come shuffling into the room blood soaking your hands and smeared on your fresh uniform
He doesn’t look up from the files he was given, just greeting you with a, “Hey sweetheart, how’d it go?”
You don’t respond, just walking silently into the bathroom attached to the room turning on the tap and scrubbing the blood off your hands
“Baby?”
You’re just scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing and it just ‘won’t come off’ and ‘jesus christ why won’t it come off?’
You’re not even scrubbing anymore you’re just scratching at your hands, your wrists, your arms, and you just want it off “off, off, get it off”
And suddenly rough hands gently grab your wrists and there's a voice speaking to you and telling you that, “it’s okay, we’ll get it off, we’ll get it off…take a deep breath and we’ll get it off”
You’re not even crying you’ve just gone numb and have a thousand yard stare over Ron’ shoulder as he gently washes your hands in his own, he’s watching the red water turn to pink and finally to clear
Ron takes his time, making sure to clean every finger and under every nail until your hands are the cleanest they’ve been since before Bastogne
Ron turns off the tap and just looks at you with the saddest eyes, you don’t even realise he’s finished until he asks you “are you okay?” he knows the answer but knows that’s the only way to get you to tell him what happened
“Eugene died…” his eyes go wide, “Jackson- Eugene Jackson…” his face goes slightly more lax, realising that your fellow medic hadn’t been killed “he was twenty-three…he kept crying he was in so much pain, his face- he was-”
Ron is watching you concerned and gets scared as you just stop talking, like someone suddenly turned off a radio
“You don’t have to talk y/n…can I- can I touch you?” He’s never seen you this small before, you’re like a wounded animal, your eyes are dead and looking straight through him
Not even looking at him you just nod silently. Ron nods back and scoops you into his arms, carrying you back into the main room, gently placing you on the bed
You’re both silent as he unlaces and takes off your boots, and then your dirty jacket and (he asks of course), your pants and shirt too
he’s already making a plan to get you a new uniform before you wake up
he grabs his sweater he was wearing that night in the church and pulls it over you, it covers you well enough since it’s a size too big
You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and Ron gets up for a moment and walks over to his pack and takes out a small bottle and a rag, he tips just a few drops of the liquid onto it and comes back to you, so softly just brushing it over your hands to get rid of the smell of copper blood
Once he’s done you raise your hands to your nose and it just smells like Ron
It takes you a moment because you haven’t smelled it since Paris but it’s the cologne he bought while you were both there, and it just takes you back to the time you spent together, when everything was okay and it felt like you weren’t two soldiers on leave but just two people in love spending time together
you realise that he wiped just enough of the cologne on your hands that you can’t smell the copper anymore and you can just smell him
you just lay down and curl up on the bed as Speirs gets his outer layers and boots off before climbing in behind you and pulling into him, your back to his chest
he just holds you the whole night, letting you cry, or mumble about how “none of this is fair”, and he talks about what you’re going to do together after all this is over, talking to you sleep
“I’ll get you a house with a big old porch that wraps around the entire house. We can drink tea and watch the sun go down.”
(had to throw in a Notebook quote for emotional damage)
GERMANY
When news comes that you’ll be moving in to occupy Germany you can’t tell whether to be excited or terrified because taking Germany means the end of the war, but it also means a final stand on the Germans part
Now that Ron is Easy’ CO that means that you can travel in the same vehicle
So you’re both sitting in the backbed of a truck with some other Easy men when you see something bright flash over your hand
You hold up your hand and see it flash again
Looking over your shoulder you see from behind the thick layer of trees, the sun is shining for the first time in nearly 2 months
You shoot up from your seat, turning to look out the side of the uncovered truck and Ron shoots out to grab your waist to stop you from tumbling over
“Woah-! What are you doing- What is it?”
“The sun!”
He looks up at you like you’re crazy
“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”
You guys break through the trees and the sun just lights you up, and for the time in months the sun is out, and its yellow and it’s warming you from the outside in
Ron is just holding you by the waist and looking up at you like you’re crazy but suddenly the yellow light from the sun is shining on your face, and the wind is blowing through your hair and you are beaming looking at the sun shining overhead
You get so excited at the warmth you’re finally getting and start to stip off your scarf, fingerless gloves, hat and thicker jacket
Joe playfully wolf whistles and the sound of it snaps Ron out of the trance you had unknowingly put him in with a, “Shut it Liebgott!”
Compared to the last town you stayed in Landsberg seems like a dream
Warm homes, real beds, actual fresh food and warm weather
But then you find the camp
And everything seems just hopeless
You all had known the Germans were bad, there’s a reason you’re fighting a war against them
But none of you had really realised just how bad it really was
As you walk through the open gates people are gently grasping at your jacket, your hair, your hands
Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you
You try and comfort them back, saying words of relief in the broken German Joe had been teaching you back in the foxhole in Bastogne
As a medic you and Gene are asked to stay behind to give any attention to anyone you possibly can
Ron has to go back to the battalion HQ to give his report of what they found, and leaving you here, watching you take care of the people who have been through such horrible acts as they close the gates behind him, Nixon, Winters and Welsch, locking you in there is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do
You don’t come home until late that night, reeking of death and alcohol
You and Ron don’t say anything to each other, you just sit on a couch in the house the officers were sharing, and you pull out the random bottle Lewis gave you and just pass it back and forth in silence the whole night, knowing that you had to get up and go back there again in the morning
Leaving the people in the camp behind was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, forming a relationship of trust with the people in there and suddenly having to up and leave them after a week because of some higher-ups orders was one of the most frustrating experiences you’ve ever had
But when Ron told you you’re leaving to Berchtesgaden it felt like the beginning of the end
The drive up through the mountains is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen
“It’s beautiful here. We should come back again one day.”
“You mean like when we’re not getting shot at?”
“Of course I mean when we’re not getting shot at Ron.”
Walking through the small town of completely abandoned high ranking Nazi homes was so eerie and had everyone on guard, until the entire place was swept and cleared the men started drinking like the war was over
(which at this point is basically was)
Ron is looting like it’s his job. He comes back to the room in the house the officers taken over with armfulls of expensive items everytime he comes back from somewhere
You spend most of your time hanging out with the other men of Easy, exploring the area, swimming and looting as well
You and Ron spend one night together where you’re just laying in the large bed in the officers house, with all the windows open and are just talking about what’s going to happen next
“War in Europe’s is over…do you have enough points to go home?”
“No…even if I did you’re not going to the Pacific without me Sparky.”
It’s a difficult conversation to have because you’ve both just barely made it through the war in Europe together and now you’re going to be shipped off to the Pacific where everything is 10x worse, which means it’s 10x more likely that one of you isn’t making it out of there alive
Ron is in his dress uniform watching you play baseball with everyone, just taking in the moment
The second that Dick says that the war is over your eyes snap to each other and you run and jump into his arms
He lifts you up and gives you the biggest kiss, (which has the boys cheering even louder)
You both get HAMMERED that night with everyone (except for Dick who is present but is not drinking lol)
There’s a chugging competition between everyone, (Lewis is a man who sips his drinks so he does not do well, I think that Bill wins, then Joe Toye and Ron is maybe 3d)
By the time 2 am rolls around everyone is blissfully drunk, and you and Ron have migrated out to the balcony and are just slow dancing together silently
since the war has been officially declared over you spend the rest of your time in Germany relaxing, swimming and just having fun and being kids with everyone basically, until you’re given a way to get back to the states
POST WAR
You go back to your families for about 2 months before you realise that you can’t live without each other and yall buy a house
it’s a fixer upper in a nice neighbourhood and it becomes your own project
you buy a camera to document the process of you renovating the house until it becomes your dream home
it takes about 8 months for it to be finished, and after Ron claims the garden as his fixer upper project and he makes it beautiful
I don’t Ron actually proposes I think he just looks up at you one day, the sun shining through the living room window, the radio playing quietly and you just look so ethereal and content, it reminds him of when he asked you to go dancing with him that he just can't help but say
“Will you marry me?”
You’re already smiling before you even look at him, taking your time to put your bookmark in before looking at him with a smile to rival the sun and just say
“Yes. I think I will.”
You guys are married within a year of him asking
I think you would have a small wedding, right in that perfect time where spring turns to summer and it’s not too hot but everything in Ron’s beautiful garden is blooming
You have the ceremony outside of a historical home under a huge willow tree
It’s just you both, your immediate families and Easy, everyone is dressed in their dress uniforms and I think Ron would be too (unless you asked him to wear a proper suit in which case he absolutely would)
Lipton is Ron’s best man, with Lewis being a part of his groomsmen
Dick walks you down the aisle (he is crying the whole way) and hands you off to Ron
The reception is in the backyard of the home, there's a beautiful ceremony setup (i'm legit picturing Bilbo baggins 111th birthday party energy)
The list of people had to be approved before the wedding because everybody wanted to make a speech
The list goes: You and Ron, one of each of your parents, Dick, Eugene, Lewis, Malarkey
You and Ron have a perfect first dance and the second it’s over you’re being spun around the floor by every soldier in Easy, all saying things like “you never danced with us at any of the pubs so we’re making up for lost time!”
He love to garden after the war
The officers come over about every 2 months to catch up and have dinner, and every single time one of them gets roped into hearing about how “I asked for white hydrangeas and do you know what Glenda at the store gave me? Pink hyacinth! Can you believe her? Everybody knows that you can’t put pink hyacinth next to pink peonies, they’d clash!”
“Dick, I’d go save your husband over there before he buries mine in his precious garden.”
I don’t think you have/adopt kids right away, instead you adopt a dog from a shelter that you treat like your kid
I do think Ron would like to be a dad one day though
post war i think he either just had a calm day job like down at a shop or something or he becomes a teacher (elementary school maybe like grade 6? and all the kids love him)
i don’t think he talks a lot about the war once its over, only the happy parts at least
how he sleeps head cannons:
he likes cuddling you in any way possible but he prefers either your back to his front or his head on your chest with his body half sprawled on top of yours
DEATH GRIP ON YOU, you have to pry his arms off you if you need to get up in the night
but he does get nightmares a lot, not ones where he’s kicking and screaming, but he starts to shift and mumble
you usually wake him up by just holding him and quietly talking to him to wake him
he wakes with a start and a jolt and his breathing is rapid and uneven and it takes him a few minutes to remember he’s home and he’s safe
you both just lay there and he silently cries for a few minutes and you comfort him
i think after a night like that he’s up for the rest of the night, he just putters around or sits up and thinks, he always tells you to go back to bed though
you always stay up with him, saying that “I was awake anyways, couldn’t sleep.” through big yawns laying against his side on the couch or big window seat
there was one night a few months after the war ended and everything was still a little too fresh, and Ron is mumbling and shifting
you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around
you lean over to try and wake him up because he’s getting louder and starting to kick his legs
Then his arms start to flail
you ‘re getting scared because he just won’t wake up so you grab him by his shoulders and shake him, begging for him to open his eyes
His eyes shoot open as he’s frantic and lost and you realise that he's not here with you
His hands come up and he grabs your arms so tight you’re pretty sure they’ll bruise and he shoves you off of him, you go tumbling off the bed onto the floor, smacking your head
You lay there dazed for a moment dazed, your head aching
Ron has pushed himself up against the headboard, trying to calm his breathing and come back down from whatever memory he had been trapped in
You both just sit/lie still for a minute, the only sound being your heavy breathing, until Ron whispers
“Y/n?”
And god he just sounds so small, and broken and scared
You haven’t heard him this scared since Bastogne when he thought you died, and it scares you just how defeated he sounds
You push yourself off the floor and crawl on the bed, flicking on the small bedside lamp and illuminating the room just enough that you can see just how messy he looks
His eyes are wet and his hair is a mess, his chest is heaving with shuddering breaths
You don’t touch him, just reach your hand out and place it between you two, giving him the option to take it or not
“Yeah Ron, I’m here…don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe in our home.”
He gently reaches out and tangles your fingers together, slowly shifting closer to you, seeking some comfort but not wanting to touch you, his body still on high alert from his dream
“Wh-what were you doing on the floor? Did- did I-”
“Ron no-”
“Oh god- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to- you know I would never-” He starts to cry. No not cry, he starts to heave and sob, appalled that he could hurt you in any way
He pushes himself back from you and curls up against the headboard
You crawl right up next to him and wrap him in your arms, running a hand through his hair and up and down his back as you whisper to him
“I know Ron- I know baby. You would never hurt me. You didn’t know, you weren’t here with me, you were somewhere else.”
It never happens again this badly, but there are still nights where the one of you has to hold the other when they wake up scared, confused and just lost
The first Easy Company reunion comes around and when you show up everybody is like “Who is this man and what have you done with Captain Speirs?” because this man is giving you regular kisses and ones on the cheek, he’s holding your hand and has his palm on the small of your back, you’re holding hands and basically just being a normal couple, but the boys cannot function because “Where is our scary Captain Speirs, and what did you do with him??”
Is that a SMILE???? The boys have no idea how you’ve done this but you have somehow caused their rough and tumble CO to become so soft and loving they can barely look at the two of you
At one point everyone is dancing and he pulls you out onto the floor and I fully believe that Malarkey passes out because he’s so shocked
this boy can DANCE i’m telling you. he love to slow dance with you
He is pulling out all the moves because he's finally around his friends in a space where they’re not getting shot at constantly and he can finally let go and be himself
The boys are all whooping and hollering because you both look so carefree and in love and they’re so happy for you
when you finally have time to relax you both spend a lot of time reading with your legs thrown over his lap and his hand is just gently rubbing your calf and ankle, it’s a great reminder that you’re both here together and everything is calm and safe now
Only after the war does he actually loosen up in public, and oh boy you better be ready because the second he starts showing how much he loves you in public he refuses to stop
I’m talking: hand holding every second you’re outside because “I don’t want you to get lost…and your hands are soft”, kisses for everything whether it’s kisses as payment for getting something off a shelf for you or kisses just because you look so good that he just can’t help himself
shows you off at every chance he gets: he goes down to the shop (he’s befriended every old lady who works the register) and when he’s at checkout the lady goes “and who’ve you got with you today Ronald?” and he’s so excited and is all like, “this is y/n, my partner!”
This man reads poetry!!!! And he loves to recite it to you while you’re both cooking, or laying in bed late at night while you play with his fingers, and he loves to read it to you while you’re sitting in your backyard with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair gently 
looks at you with his warm gaze so full of love, almost always when you turn to look at him and see him just watching you with his warm brown eyes and you just get so shy and flustered you have to look away (he loves when you get like that he thinks it’s so fucking cute)
EXTRAS
flirts with you all the time!!! (even after you’re married. he just loves to make you swoon)
one may think that Ron would get in to fights when someone disrespects you but you alway tell him “they’re not worth it Ron don’t bother honey.”
but YOU on the other hand, if someone says something about Ron you jump their ass
that actually happened back when everyone was at some small pub one night and you’re walking back to the table with all the boys at it and some guy tries to harass you so Ron steps in with one of those ‘You better back the fuck off my partner’ looks and you start back to your seat when the guy pipes up about Ron and you just swing around and DECK him. All that time training came in handy as you started to beat his ass. All the boys are cheering you on (Bill will say that he’s never been prouder of you, and both Joes and Tab were cheering like they had money on you)
it takes Ron, Winters and a tipsy Nixon to pull you off the poor guy before you kill him
Ron pulls you out of the bar to cool of but you just keep your hands locked and keep walking until you get back to your room and have some fantastic rage induced sex (not mad at each other, just riled up and showing one another how much you love and care for each other)
has a really deep morning voice
and the best bed head, like he makes it look so good and like such boyfriend/husband materal
loves to stare at you when you get happy/excited, it makes him happy!
the second he realises that he can loot he anonymously leaves you gifts that he thinks you’d enjoy
it starts off simple with items like candies and treats
then it becomes more thoughtful like a nice chain or a simple ring band that won’t get in the way of your work as a medic
he absolutely loves seeing you wear or read the gifts he’s left for you, it’s like he’s there protecting you and claiming you as his but from afar, when you play with the ring on your finger when your nervous out bored during briefings it makes him so happy
is a surprisingly good singer?? doesn’t do it very often and NEVER around people (epically the men) but when it’s just you two with a moment alone he loves to sing to you while swaying gently with one hand on your waist and one holding yours
Loves to sing ‘I’ll be seeing you’ by Billie Holiday
everytime he comes back from looting a house he goes “give me your hand.” and pulls out a handful of different sizes, cuts and colours of rings, gently placing each one on your finger, noting each time you say that you like an aspect of it
“I like the cut of the stone in this one, I'm just not sure of the colour though.”
Ron: *quickly grabs his notebook and scribbles something down in it before pocketing the ring*
LOVES when you play with his dog tags (especially when you are laying together post-sex), and loves the way your dog tags look when you’re bouncing on him, and they’re jingling and catching the light perfectly
i think his love languages are;
giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time
receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch
speaking of physical touch:
he is NOT big on PDA, he prefers to keep any intimate moments like kissing just between the two of you (or occasionally quick pecks around the other officers, that causes you to blush so much he has to give you a second one. Even Dick jokes at him, “Jesus Sparky, please keep it in your pants-” “Dick I swear to God-!”)
but when you are in public is more like a gentle hand on the small of your back, brushing hair out of his face and letting your fingers linger there for a little longer than necessary, linking your pinkies together when you’re standing close enough
he also LOVES when you grab the back of his jacket/shirt or his belt loop to not get lost in a crowd, it makes him feel like you trust him
when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out
slow and gentle, just you and him, rubbing your hands along his stubble, pulling back for a moment to giggle and tell him how ticklish it is, (he promises to shave it, you tell him your like to feel it somewhere else before he does)
loves making out with you ANYWHERE but especially his office, like pushing you up onto his desk where his body fits perfectly between your legs, he can trap you between his arms and hold your hands down onto the wooden desk, loves the sense of privacy it gives you both
more than once you’ve been interrupted and you’ve had to fake bringing him some papers he needed
“Speirs- Sergeant L/N! Sorry for interrupting, I didn’t realise you had a… guest.”
“It’s alright Sir, they were just dropping off some paperwork.” Winters is SO EMBARRASSED, but not nearly as much as you are when Nixon points out
“You might wanna fix your hair before you go anywhere else Sergeant.” with a shit eating grin on his face.
your face goes red before you look at Ron guilty, he just smirks back at you causing you to blush an even deeper shade of red.
carries around pictures of you in his OD jacket pocket!!!!! they’re in a tin so they don’t get ruined, he loves to just flip through them and stare when you are a part from each other
there’s a few photos of the two of you when you finally had weekend passes and you went to Paris. There's one of you and him both in your uniforms standing together, his arms wrapped around you as you're mid laugh and he’s looking down at you with eyes like you hung the moon.
You’ve got one really good one you put on your bedside table when you get back, it’s Ron in regular clothes smiling directly into the camera blowing smoke out of his mouth, it’s very domestic and handsome. The first time he sees it he’s all “oh come on you wanna keep that one? It’s so bad-" "I think you look beautiful and handsome, like a leading man.” He sees how you stare at that photo and decides ‘maybe it’s not so bad after all’
Another is of you both in regular civilian clothes, it’s a strip of photo booth pictures, that get progressively more steamy. The first one is just you two looking at each other, you’re sitting on his lap and cradling his face. the second one is you both kissing, it’s sweet (and later he puts that one in his wallet when you get home). Third photo is, you both, still kissing but now your hands are gripping his shirt and his hands are all in your hair (that way that Tab runs his hands through that girl's hair in Holland, you know the gif). the final one in the strip is of him staining at you with loving eyes, having just pulled back from a kiss- hands still in your hair- but you’re staring directly into the camera with this look on your face that he loves seeing, you’re rapidly unbuttoning your shirt
nsfw:
in that tin of photos there are more than a few risqué and sexual ones. You rented a camera to take photos while in Paris and when you finally get the developed images sent to you at the front you and Ron open them and the first photo is of you just sitting against the headboard of the hotel room bed, hugging a pillow against your naked body with the sheets bunched up around your feet, your hair is a controlled beautiful mess and you’re staring directly into the camera with half lidded eyes, (obviously just having settled down enough the push yourself upright). Ron’s breath hitches and he grabs it, immediately placing it in the tin with other photos of you both.
photos of you both mid sex
you have one that you took while riding him, he’s laying down with his head thrown back and his mouth partially open and his eyes are closed and he just looks wrecked. you pocket that one just as quickly as he pocketed yours.
he has one of you doing it in front of a mirror, he’s behind you taking the photos and your head is thrown back and your back is arched. the photo is slightly blurred because of the movement while he was taking it but he love it
the first time you had sex together was when you were back in civilization for a US Open show and we’re billeted on the same block.
he is so gentle that first time and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he slides into you.
“oh fuuuuuck, god-“ he hisses through his teeth to keep himself quiet
says that he’s quiet in bed but occasionally after a long day (or if he’s drunk) will groan and moan, taking deep breaths so loud like a virgin trying not to cum to quickly
Aims to please!!!!!! love going down on you especially when he either needs to let go for a while (lets you ride his face), or if he gets jealous and wants to make sure you know that he’s the only one who can make you feel like that.
if you have a vagina he pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs so you’re completely exposed and fucking goes at it, not stopping until you either; start crying, cum so many times you lose count, squirt or safe-word him. will push your hands away when
you try to grab his hair to either push him away or bring him closer.
if you have a penis he loves sitting you down on a chair or the edge of a bed and holding you down by your thighs so you can’t buck up into his mouth. gets you there then holds tight at your base so you cant cum/pulls back at the last second to ruin it. will dig his short nails into your thighs when you won’t stop moving.
pull his hair please
would never say it but loves when you call him by his rank
you accidentally said it one time when you were on leave and you didn’t come out of the room all day. you had a reservation for dinner at 5 and when that time rolled around you were letting in the bed shaking, coming down from the best orgasm of your life. you tried to get up and have a shower but ended up going twice more around the room and twice in the shower, every time finishing with a cry of “Lieutenant Speirs!”, they got him to just go harder. you showed up for your 5pm reservation at 8:30, still shaking slightly. Ron was a smug s.o.b through all of dinner.
fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻 
had his hand covering your mouth to keep you from screaming so loud everyone could hear you
at one point someone comes and knocks on his door, he slows but doesn’t stop rocking into you as he speaks to them through the door, his hand covering your mouth and you stare at him with wide eyes, as he’s speaking to the poor person on the other side of the door he kisses and nips and sucks at your neck, basically he’s torturing you and expects you to make zero noise
you let out a single squeak and he freezes, glaring at you, you start shaking your head trying to apologize but his hand is still over your mouth
“i’ll come back later sir…”
the SECOND that poor guy is gone Ron tightens his hand on your mouth and goes crazy, rubbing you with his one hand, while moving in and out and fucking whispering into your ear practically degrading you for making so much noise while he’s fucking you and someone is on the other side of the door (this man makes me have many thoughts)
he loves to look up at you while going down on you, the same as earlier, he’s looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars and you can barely look at him because the look in his eyes is just too much for your brain to process through all the stimulation
when he’s jealous or you’re both being rougher he loves to make you look him in his eyes, staring at him as he makes you feel so good and his eyes flutter closed because he’s getting just as much if not more pleasure from this than you are
will finger you under any table, does not matter who is sitting with you
(possibly more than) once Ron has been fingering you under the table and Lewis and Dick know exactly what’s going on and one of them has to fake feeling sick because they know if they don’t leave now yall are gonna end up fucking on the table and they don’t want to see that
once you two are married he LOVES and i means LOVES to finger you and lick your cum off of his ring finger with the wedding band still on it, it’s so possessive and makes him so turned on
you’re the only person who can top him
loves when you take control, especially when you ride him and pull his hair, grab him by the face to make him look at you and are overall rough with him (also loved when you make him cum before you and you just sit with him twitching inside you while he comes down until he can go again because i “I didn’t finish, what did i say was going to happen if you came before I got to?”
lazy, beautiful morning sex in with a warm breeze coming through the windows
defo has fucked you in the back garden; both on the grass (you were bent over on the ground gardening and he just couldn’t help himself because “you know how i feel when you wear those bottoms-“), and him sitting on the wicker seating set with the comfortable cushions you have in the back with you lazily riding him, not really thrusting and jumping as much as just lazily rolling your hips together
loves clothed sex; both of you being clothed (hiumping each other over pants or him pulling your dress/skirt up to push against your underwear), or only one of you being clothed (he loves the way it looks when he’s jumping against your covered ass and you love the way the front of his pants look when you get them wet by rocking against him)
not necessarily risky when it comes to sex but has a bit of a kink for almost getting caught, (would never want you two to get actually caught since he’s “the only one allowed to see you like this”)
you guys have fucked in ever room in your house, just to run through a couple places:
living room: couch, every chair, floor (rug)
kitchen: kitchen table, counter (both over and on top of it), dining room table
bedroom: bed, chair, over the and on top of the dresser, against the door, against ye window (faces the backyard) 
bathrooms: bathtub, shower, lid closed (ya nasty) sitting on the toilet, against the door, tiled floor and the bath mat
office: desk (over it, on top of it, on the edge of it, eating you out/sucking him off leaning against the table/sitting on the edge of the chair), sitting on his lap in the chair, against the bookshelf, window nook, the arm chair
garage: in the car, on the hood of the car, against the door during parties, against the wall (the concrete causing you to arch your back from the cold rough texture)
closets (upstairs ones while guests are over and asking “where tf are our hosts?”
okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo
idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink
you guys love to cockwarm while reading it while one of you is doing work
likes to kiss you while you’re having sex but when you’re in control prefers when you bite and nip at him
has a slight choking kink
within the first 2 times you guys have sex he knows a) exactly what to do to get you going and b) where the most sensitive parts of your body are and WILL use that against you every chance he gets
this man whines when he gets too sensitive, is really calm and comfortable, or when you’re topping him and calling him nicknames
has a choking kink (on either of you)
he’s very vocal with grunts and either praise or degrading you, also moans the first time he’s in you, every time 
calls you: baby, sweetheart, perfect, (when more aggressive): cocksleeveve, slut, good boy/girl
will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor
you call him: baby, lovey, good/perfect boy, daddy occasionally, captain speirs (which will get him to go to a whole other level)
you two have done some sexy medic/patient role play before both during the war and after (mayhaps a little morphine was involved, which was very hard to explain to Gene why you were down a bottle suddenly)
overstimulate each other
loves to watch you touch yourself, the way your body moves is like crack to him
you do this both when you’re trying to torture him (he’s tired to the headboard or a chair) or as a mutual masturbation thing
he is the perfect size, rides that sweet line between “ouch that’s too big” and “a slight stretch” where you tend to need a second when he sinks in for the first time but the stretch is always welcome
you both love when you give him head and when you pull back you’re connected to him with spit and cum
yall definitely had secret foxhole rendezvous (this is where his ‘hand over your mouth to keep you quiet’ kink came from)
after your first time together (on the wonderful Paris leave), you look over at him with watery eyes and just say “i love you so much.” he doesn’t hesitate with a “i love you more than anything.”
that instigates the softest second round of just sweet, loving kisses and quiet “i love you”’s  in between and when you finish
keeps asking you to wear your PT clothes (post war) because he can’t help but watch hot your body and muscles move under the tight shirt and short shorts
after weeks of him asking you surprise him by coming back from a light run in those clothes and he knows that it’s on
after some hot ass sex you ask him if he’ll wear his “your back and muscles look great in that shirt and your ass looks incredible in those shorts.”
within the week he pulls the same scenario of going out for a light run in that outfit and you jump his fucking bones
he likes it why you try to cover your moans and whines by biting your lip or with your hand or in a pillow but you just can’t help it and become so loud
you both like when the other gets watery eyes and starts getting all soft and sensitive and their eyes get wide and submissive
like to talk to you during sex, “you’re doing so good for me-“ “fuck you’re feel good baby-“, “you krio doing that i won’t last long-“, “you look so good when you ride me baby, oh fu—“
when he gets really close after a few rounds and is overstimulated and is almost crying (consensually) he pants and gasps and finishes with a cry and maybe a sob but he feels so good-
loves when you feel too much and you just sort of space out for a second or go silent because your brain just short circuits
maybe you squirt once and tried to do it for a whole night after that
once did it so much that he made you dehydrated (can that even happen? idk, but now it can.)
y’all have aftercare DOWN
you know exactly what the other needs after there are dom/sub roles in play or after just regular (incredible as usual) sex
cleaning each other in the shower or bath gentle, kissing so softly of sometimes just being near each other but not touching because you’re both so sensitive
tea and snacks in bed cuddled up after (or any food and hydration really)
if one of you is particularly tired after, the other reads to them while running their hair through their hair until the person on their lap/shoulder/chest fall asleep
aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit
talks you through it
“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”
“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”
“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!” 
yell tease each other like it’s your job
that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure
slow dancing that just turned to grinding
This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3
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jo-harrington · 1 month
Text
Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 2: Out of Character
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Previous Chapter: Alternate Universe
Summary: Things are starting to get weird in Hawkins. Weird for Eddie, especially. (AKA Eddie Munson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week)
Word Count: 9k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader
Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, mention of virginity, Smut (male masturbation), sexual fantasies, brief Breeding Kink mention (I SWEAR IT WILL MAKE SENSE bear with me), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, jealousy, satire, a Monkey’s Paw type situation, Cliffhanger, Meta Fiction, Eddie acts a little OOC—it’s in the title
Note: Hey everyone, we're back with hopefully some more regularly posted chapters now that my baby SMVerse is complete. Very sorry for how long this chapter is, the next one is admittedly planned to be shorter. There was just a lot of dough to knead here. Thank you to @dr-aculaaa @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for their contribution to some details of the chapter. IYKYK. And they know. Especially how much it means to me.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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It goes without saying that your newfound independence had led to the most fun you’d ever had.
You weren’t afraid to be by yourself; on the contrary, it was almost like you were by yourself for the first time in your life.
That was the thing about living in a small town, everyone knew everyone else and your friends and neighbors always popped in unannounced, usually to a lot of fanfare and excitement.
There was never a dull moment with your friends.
But every aspect of your life in Port Geneva hinged around them, and now you could really focus on you. Realize that you were worth more than what you did to enrich someone else's life. Now you could enrich your own.
You listened to music you'd never heard before. What music had you even listened to before?
You ate foods you'd never eaten before. If you really thought about it, what had you ever eaten but short stacks with strawberries and sandwiches from the deli and cafeteria pizza?
You saw the world; sketched buildings and landscapes that were so different from the ones you were used to. Had you ever seen a house that didn't look like the ones in your cookie-cutter suburb? Or seen grass that wasn't perfectly manicured?
Who knew that wildflowers existed outside of storybooks?
Sometimes you stayed for a while; got a little room at a motel in a town that reminded you a lot of home and nothing like home at all. Too homesick to keep jumping around but not homesick enough to go back. You'd get a job for a few weeks--always lucking out on an opening for a waitressing or babysitting gig or something--pad your pockets, fall in love with the town and sometimes with the people there.
Then the need to leave simmered in your bones once again and you were forced back onto the road.
There was one town you were almost loath to leave. A midwest town and a goofy guy named Ed who made you laugh and called you sweetheart and kissed you shyly; he really understood you, understood the need to march to the beat of your own drum, because his big dream was to get out of his hometown too and make a name of himself.
Which is why he wasn't mad when it was time for you to go.
You'd always remember Stuckeyville.
But it was no matter; the world was yours for the taking. You'd keep going, on and on to the next destination, until you couldn't anymore.
Then one day, a year-or-so into your trip, it happened.
You'd been driving, thinking of the postcards that were burning a hole in your backpack to be sent back home. It was late, and you were tired and ready to make it to your next destination.
That's when you crashed.
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December 1985
"Ed..."
"Hmmm?"
"I've gotta get up."
"Five more minutes."
"You're lying on my arm." He could feel the slight movement of something beneath him. "God, you and your big fat head, my hand is numb!"
Eddie groaned as you pushed at him and before long, your finger--cold and wet with spit--slid into his ear, rendering him fully awake and squirming to get away from you.
"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed as he hopped off his bed and tried to rid himself of the phantom feeling of your invasion. "Gah, ugh, gross!"
"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," you grinned and got up from the bed to stretch. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him playfully. "Especially when she's gonna be late. You should know how Bev is better than anybody."
Violation quickly forgotten, Eddie watched you run back and forth around his room; a satisfied feeling settled in his chest as you picked bits of clothing up to layer back on, fixed your hair, swept the fingers over the corners of your eyes to wipe the sleep from them as you got ready for your shift at the Hideout.
It was a feeling that he was quickly becoming addicted to.
How many weeks had you been dating now?
Not enough to satisfy his rapidly increasing dependence on you.
Dating.
You even called him your boyfriend. God it still seemed like such a dream to him. One he never wanted to wake up from. But it was real. You had dates and you took naps together and talked on the phone; sure it was just easier to cross Forest Hills and sit on one of your porches to chat until it was past midnight and you were dozing off, but as the cold weather rolled in, the phone was the easier bet.
Racked up a bit of a phone bill but who was he to complain?
He always paid Wayne back.
It was worth it.
More often than not he started the call with the obligatory “what are you wearing” despite having most likely seen you earlier in the night. But you, not one to leave a man hanging, would always come up with a comical response: astronaut suit, Princess Leia’s bikini and a clown nose, pajamas made out of the hide of Big Bird himself.
It was ridiculous and nothing less than Eddie expected from his favorite tv character and the one true love of his life.
Thankfully, the two of you decided that sickeningly sweet was not your style. Not like some couples. There was no you hang up first or schmoopsie pet names. More often than not he just called you sweetheart; it rolled off the tongue. And you? Called him your idiot.
Yours.
He'd worried with Paige once upon a time that he didn't know how to be someone's boyfriend. Turned out, he just had to find someone to be a friend first, then the rest just...fell into place.
And aside from some of the nerves he'd had when you first showed up in town, and the ever-present question of just how you came to be in Hawkins--
There was a knock on the door to his bedroom.
"'Right Ed, I'm heading off to work," Wayne said through the door.
"Wait up," you called out to him as you hopped to pull your boots on. "I'm about to leave too."
You stopped briefly to give Eddie a tender kiss, and he chased after you when you tried to pull away. His lips refused to part from yours, his hands found your waist to tug you closer, and his heart soared when you sighed and gave into him a little longer.
--Everything was perfect.
You gave him a dreamy smile when you pulled away, one that quickly turned into a feral grin.
"I'm gonna be late," you whispered conspiratorially. "And the old man is gonna question whether your innocence is still intact or not if we take any more time."
Eddie froze.
Well. Almost perfect.
You took the opportunity to stick your tongue out at him and reached up to honk the tip of his nose, before you bolted from the room to leave.
Once the door to the trailer slammed shut and Eddie was alone, he fell back onto the bed with his hands over his face; his head spun as he wondered how the fuck he'd gotten here. To this point. This moment in time.
Because somehow...some way...you thought he was still a virgin.
"Somehow," he grumbled to himself after a second. "You're the one who told her you were, you idiot!"
And he had.
It was a funny story; it always was with Eddie.
Except this was anything but funny.
It has been the third date and there was just…a natural progression of things on your sofa after a day out at StarCourt. Music was playing, hands were wandering; he’d gotten a bit excited and rocked his hips against you creating a delicious crescendo of moans from both of you.
Then for some reason, Eddie thought back to Port Geneva.
Besides a few sweet kisses you shared with douchebag Mark Fisher, you never engaged in any…physical show of affection. No one did, actually. There had never been anything heavier than hand holding and kissing—maybe the occasional make out—shown on screen. Which, in hindsight he should have rationalized as being obvious; it was a family show on television, after all.
Instead he’d opened his big mouth and asked “hang on, are you a virgin?”
Rather than answer, you got bashful all of a sudden; you turned the question back on him, stuttering all the while.
“Eddie…a-are you a-a virgin?”
What could he say looking into your big wide eyes and kiss-bruised lips, thinking you were nervous and wanting to fix his gaff—especially considering all the blood had rushed from his brain to his cock—but yes?
Next thing he knew you were cuddling him, coddling him, and telling him that you could proceed with whatever next step he wanted, whenever he was ready.
In that moment how could he admit that it was all a lie? That he was an idiot and a liar trying to make you feel better? That he was no bumbling, blushing virgin; he was only saying it because he thought you were.
He knew if he tried to backtrack, you’d either believe he was a jerk or that he tried to lie again to feel less embarrassed.
So he let it slide.
Whatever. Virginity was a bullshit concept anyway.
The truth would come out eventually. It just made everything a little more complicated in the mean time.
“As if everything isn’t complicated enough anyway,” Eddie huffed.
Speaking of complicated, between napping in your comfortable embrace, your kiss, and thinking of the events that led up to the unfortunate virginity confession, he was in a bit of a situation.
Stiff and aching in his jeans, he did what he always did: Eddie took care of himself.
He unbuckled his belt and quickly rid himself of the barriers of denim and flannel, then scrambled to find the bottle of lotion that he unceremoniously shoved into the drawer of the bedside table. Just like all of the other things he tried to hide whenever you came over.
Other things...including the poster of you that he'd cut out of the TV Guide.
There was a spark of desire in him—of need—at the sight of it. Of you.
"I shouldn't," he muttered as his fingers hovered at the edge of the drawer, ready to close it. He'd already found what he needed. Best just close the drawer and crank one out and be a happy camper til the next time the need arose.
"It's just...not right...right?" he tried to convince himself as you stared up at him from inside the drawer.
He weighed the pros and cons, tried to convince himself that it was a normal thing. How many other times had he jacked off to pictures in magazines, or crushes from school. Shit, he'd even done it to the fantasy of you.
But now you were real and his girlfriend. Wasn’t that some kind of moral dilemma?
On the other hand, he would just be using a picture of his girlfriend to get off. That was normal, right?
Except...well...it was you, but not you you. Rosemary Glass you. The real you just left for work. The you in real life and the you in the TV Guide were not the same. You were full of life and energy and affection and not an ultra posed picture on a page.
There was another beat of debate before Eddie made a decision.
"Fuck it," he groaned and grabbed the flimsy magazine page and then slammed the back of his hand against the drawer to shut it. If he spent any more time weighing the moral implications here, he'd lose out on the opportunity.
So, poster in one hand, lotion well-coating the other, Eddie immediately sought out his hard cock and groaned with the brief sense of relief.
"Yeah," he sighed. His tongue traced the seam of his lips and he locked eyes with yours in the poster. "That's it."
Internal debate forgotten, he lost himself to his imagination with every stroke and squeeze and twist.
You kissed on him and your hand replaced his. No, your mouth instead of your hand. His mouth on you? He knew what your mouth tasted like; what about the rest of you? It was a delicious fantasy to explore.
His eyes roamed over the dips and curves of your body; he focused on the way your legs looked in that skirt as he squeezed the base of his cock and moaned.
What he wouldn't give to rip that skirt off of you. No, wait. You deserved better than that. He would undress you carefully, show how much you meant to him, then skink into your warmth. How would you feel? Like Heaven, he was sure.
His hand moved faster now, his toes curled, as he imagined this scenario and that one. What if he fucked you in the backseat of your car? Or shit, what about if he bent you over it? Take a drive out to the quarry and have his way with you.
"Fuck, fuck," he groaned and stilled for a second, savoring the intense build of feelings, before he bucked up into his fist repeatedly. "Yeah sweetheart just like that."
He focused on that sly smile, that tilt of your head.
Would you smile up at him like that when he was buried deep inside you, finding all the ways he could make you whine and keen for him. Shit, finding all the ways he would whine for you, just like he was now. Would you ask him for more?
"I'll give it to you baby," he muttered and bit his lip as the wave of his pleasure began to crest. He closed his eyes again to savor it. Savor the fantasy of you there with him, rocking and riding the wave with him. He couldn't wait for the day. "All of it. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."
Would you let him cum inside? You'd beg for it. Beg for his cum.
"Yeah? You'd let me?" he asked breathlessly.
"Please, please," you'd whine.
"Uh-huh? Yeah?"
"Please." You'd scrunch your eyes tightly, pull him in as deep as he could go. "Put a baby inside of me Eddie."
Eddie's eyes shot open and he choked on air. He let go of the now-crumpled magazine and his throbbing cock with a shout.
Panic gripped him.
"W-what the fuck?" he panted, rapidly coming down from his high like a man plummeting to the earth with a parachute that simply wouldn't open. "What the fuck? Why?"
His mind raced.
How had he thought of that? Where did it come from? He wasn't...he didn't...he'd never fantasized about something like that before. With anyone. Ever. Not alone either. Shit, he'd even accidentally checked out a porno from Family Video once that had a pregnant...
"Blagh," he gagged at the memory and fully lost the edge of his erection. The need to come was now gone; in fact, he suddenly never wanted to come again. Not if it meant that he was going to think thoughts like that?
With intense clarity, he tried to retrace his metaphorical steps. Tried to remember what exactly got him to those thoughts, to that...well, he could hardly call it a fantasy now could he? Nightmare. But he simply couldn't fathom how it had cropped up.
"Fuck," he groaned and looked down at himself. At his softening cock slick with lotion, at the crumpled picture of you with the sparkling eyes and smile. And he was reminded of the moral dilemma that he'd encountered a short while ago.
"No," he shook his head. "Not her. Rosemary Glass. That's all it is. I just...fucked myself up fantasizing about Rosemary Glass and my mind punished me. Haha Eddie, jokes on you, got the girl of your dreams and you'd prefer a picture. That's it."
Yeah, that's all it was.
All it had to be.
Otherwise...what the fuck was wrong with him?
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What the fuck was wrong with Eddie Munson?
That seemed to be the question of the day, every day, for the rest of the week.
Well, that was what everyone seemed to ask Eddie; friends, teachers, bullies. To Eddie, though, it seemed like everything else was wrong.
It all started in O'Donnell's history class the following day after the, uh...fantasy incident.
He was excited to show up to class.
No, that wasn't why things were wrong. He'd been passing History, working hard ever since that first study date, excited to show up and succeed and actually graduate. And that day they were due to get a test back, one that he actually studied and prepared for.
So yes, he was excited.
Imagine his surprise when Mrs. O'Donnell placed the packet face-down on his desk and shook her head at him.
"I don't know what went wrong here Edward," she tutted. "You were making some real improvements. Such a disappointment."
Eddie frowned as she walked away, and he quickly flipped his packet over to the oh-so-familiar sea of red pen scribbles and a big fat F at the top of the page.
Not just an F. A zero.
"What the fuck?" he whispered.
He might not have been a star student but he’s never outright tanked a test before. Especially not one he’s studied for.
He went over every question again and every answer, wracked his brain for the responses he knew to be true—he had several B’s and C’s on quizzes to prove it—and then read the wrong answers on the test for all of them. Written in his obvious chicken scratch with doodles in the margins just like he remembered drawing when he took the test. So it's not like someone just wrote his name on their test.
O’Donnell took pity on him at the end of class and said he could sit for the test again during his study hall, especially since he’d been making some improvement. He’d practically kissed her.
Only for him to fail again.
He burned with self-hatred at first, and then simply turned his rage on O'Donnell, because he knew all of the answers. She must have just been a picky grader.
That was it, right? She just had it in for him.
But then other things just got worse.
Jason Carver might have been a tool bag and an antagonistic bully but he’d never been outright hostile before. Not like some of his predecessors.
Not like Tommy…Tommy H.
On an unrelated note, that bothered Eddie too. He couldn’t remember Tommy’s last name. Tommy who bullied him and his friends viciously. Tommy H…Tommy Hayes? Tommy Hagan? Both existed in his mind. And yeah normally he wouldn't give a shit but what the hell? First the History test and now Tommy H?
Regardless, Jason had been especially brutal lately.
Overly antagonistic, even calling Edde a freak in the middle of class. He and the rest of the basketball team had even begun their physical assault on him and his friends openly. The jocks pushed them into lockers, spit on them, and threw things. Gareth even got a black eye when they "ran into" the jocks after gym on Thursday.
Eddie knew he wasn't well-liked, but it burned him deep inside that no one spoke up, students and teachers alike. It was all out in the open, where everyone could see or report to the faculty. Even his friends kept their mouths shut and endured the abuse.
No one seemed to be bothered though; they kept to the status quo. And Eddie wasn’t gonna try his luck with Higgins on his own.
Cowards.
Friday morning, Eddie thought he had the answer; Chrissy Cunningham—Queen of Hawkins High and Jason’s girlfriend—spoke to him in homeroom. Not only spoke to him, but made moon eyes at him in every class they shared and in the hall between the classes that they didn't.
And it was getting annoying.
“Dude, Chrissy keeps looking over here,” Jeff whispered at lunch.
“I know!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table, startling the others. He took a calming breath and repeated himself, softer, to Jeff.
“What’s her deal? Does she wanna join Hellfire or something?”
“I dunno man, something strange is happening,” he shook his head and picked at his food. “I don’t know if she’s in some…argument with Jason and is trying to make him jealous. Or if she’s just bored and is enjoying his torment of the village idiots or something.”
“Maybe she wants to buy some weed,” Gareth piped up. “Slumber party with the rest of the cheer squad. She is the Captain. It’s her job to score.”
“Nah man,” Dave chortled. “I think it’s more likely that she’s trying to score in a different way. Get Eddie to fall in love with her or something and make a fool out of him.”
The guys all started laughing and making kissy noises, much to Eddie’s growing annoyance. Every puckering noise grated something deep within him. And it only pissed him offs more when the freshman started to get in on the fun, with Mike and Lucas singing about Eddie and Chrissy sitting in a tree—
“K-I-S-S-I-N—”
“Shut up!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table and shouted, voice echoing across the cafeteria, practically silencing everyone at the intrusion.
His shoulders heaved as he glared over at the jock’s table, where a certain someone with a bouncing strawberry ponytail waved hello, even as she sat with her boyfriend’s arm comfortably around her. And said boyfriend was glaring knives at him; if looks could kill, Eddie would be done for.
His thoughts spiraled and his ears started to ring.
What the fuck was going on? Why was everyone trying to fuck with him now? Why was everything suddenly out of control in such a short period of time? Was this karma? He got one thing he desperately needed so everything else was going to shit?
Suddenly he had an out of body experience, or at least…that’s what it felt like. He watched it all happen, felt all the movements and the words fly out of his mouth but he wasn’t in control.
One moment he was sitting at the head of his table, hands tented in front of his face as he contemplated life, and the next he was standing. Standing on top of the table, actually, and while that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, it’s what he did up there that was.
“Hey Carver, you have a fucking problem with me?” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Why don’t you step into my office and file a complaint!”
His arms swept outwards of their own volition and he bowed over to gesture to the table and to his friends.
“Pretty sure my associates have a few choice words for you too.”
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…
Jason was on his feet immediately, with Patrick and Andy quick to follow.
“What’s your damage freak?” He chuckled sardonically through gritted teeth. “Trying to have your own little David and Goliath moment? Prepare to get toppled.”
“Wait, do you think you’re David right now? You think you’re a hero?”Jeff scoffed and got to his feet, spurning the rest of Corroded Coffin to do the same, sending jeers and taunts across the room. The jocks did much of the same, name calling and shouting vicious threats.
“I’m gonna kick your ass Emerson!”
“Kick? How about kiss! Just like your mom likes to do!”
It kept going until Eddie took a few steps down the table, leant down, and scooped his fingers through Mike’s gloopy mashed potatoes, ready to fling a handful towards the enemies.
He was prepared for the worst as he witnessed it all from inside his own body, as he felt the gravy slip down his hand and into the sleeve of his jacket. An all out war, the need to protect his friends again—worse this time with the Freshman—the dread of listening to Gareth’s fingers breaking once more…it would all start once the first shot was fired.
If there was a God—or some fate writing this in the books of the universe who was just really bad at writing a fight sequence—now would be the time for them to make themselves known.
“Munson!”
Eddie inhaled the air greedily as he regained control of himself, and he marveled at Higgins' sudden appearance: standing in the doorway to the cafeteria with Coach Palmer and Nancy Wheeler standing behind him.
He’d never been so happy to see them in his life.
“Munson,” Higgins shouted at him. “Get down from there!”
Jeff, knowing what was good for them all, pulled Eddie down from the table and he stumbled on legs made weak from the rapid loss of adrenaline. Lucas passed a handful of paper napkins for him to clean off his hands as Higgins and Coach crossed the cafeteria, Coach to take care of his little minions, and Higgins to take care of him.
Despite their tenuous truce, Higgins grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him towards the cafeteria doors.
“Detention,” he hissed in Eddie’s face.
“My fucking pleasure,” Eddie replied desperately, suddenly a devout believer in whatever deity he had evoked.
Man, this was getting to be a habit.
As he was escorted out of the cafeteria, Eddie vaguely heard Dustin over the din of classmate whispers.
“Guys, that was weird. What’s wrong with Eddie?”
“What do you mean?” Gareth answered blithely. “He’s always like that.”
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"I can't believe you got detention."
"I mean, Higgins could have expelled me. Or tried to get me to drop out again."
"I really fucking hate that guy," you muttered and reached out to grab a box from the shelf. "How about this one?"
"Seen it, fake blood is obviously fake."
"You're such a horror snob."
"Don't deny it," he whispered in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "That's your favorite thing about me."
You put the movie back on the shelf in a huff and then the two of you shuffled forward down the aisle.
Saturdays were made to be spent together; Saturday mornings specifically. Eddie would take as much time with you as he could, but Hawkins was Hawkins and there was only so much to do. So you designated Saturdays as mornings out before you went to work and Eddie made the rounds to whatever parties he could safely show his face at and make some quick cash.
You traded off on whoever made plans, and today he had pathetically suggested a movie, snacks, and cuddling on the couch, needing to find a respite in your arms after the abject chaos of his week.
He already felt worlds better, more like himself, because you listened and understood.
He ranted and cursed during the drive and you hung onto every word, only interjecting to offer gentle encouragement. You didn't pity him or blame him--well, you blamed him for almost starting a food fight and since he couldn't explain what overcame him in that moment, he accepted it--but you made sure he knew that you had been in his shoes and understood exactly how he felt.
His dependence on you made itself known when you got into the store. As much as you protested his arms latching around you immediately, he knew you secretly enjoyed the proximity and the sweetness that he lavished you with.
Hobbling down the aisles with him practically attached to you; whispered stories, jokes, and terms of endearment; and an occasional raspberry on your neck if and when you had differing opinions about a movie.
Eddie thought The Outsiders was a good movie. You preferred the book. Which was fine. You tried to tell him Rob Lowe was cute, though; that earned you some punishment.
"Oh come on, don't tell me you never had a crush on a celebrity," you snorted and squealed and tried to free yourself from his grasp. Which you did successfully as your words made him freeze. "Or like...a character from a tv show or something."
You didn't know how close to the truth you were.
He felt his world tilt on its axis as you kept browsing and spouting off names and laughing, and with each celebrity or character you named, the more he thought of Port Geneva with intense clarity.
He could hear the theme song, see the neon text of the closing card, and feel his heart skip a beat when you'd show up on screen and greet your friends "Hey guys!"
"Hey guys!" your same voice rang from the other side of the partition of tapes, same emphasis and volume and cheer as you would on tv, as you greeted Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington. "Are those new?"
"Mmhmm," Robin affirmed. "Technically they were supposed to go out yesterday for the weekend, but someone was too busy flirting with Melanie Hartford."
Steve's embarrassed trip-up over a response was overshadowed as you called out.
"Hey Eddie, come here, I think they're putting out some new movies."
Eddie took a breath to compose himself, carefully placed the mask of cool and adoring boyfriend back on, and then rounded the corner to join you.
"If it's Death Wish 3 on tape, it wasn't that goo--" Eddie trailed off as he stopped in his tracks.
He understood why Steve sounded so embarrassed.
Eddie mainly steered clear of Steve Harrington over the years; yeah he was a shithead and a bit of a bully, but especially since the Freshman insisted that Steve was a nice guy, he'd tried to put it all in the past. Best not think of King Steve and all of the opportunities and advantages that he'd gotten, no matter how good of a guy they claimed he was.
Knowing Harrington's reputation and then fall from grace over the past few months though, he wondered if Steve had ever had some unreciprocated crush before.
Because he was certainly acting like he had a crush in front of you.
A crush on you.
Eddie knew what it looked like when someone had a crush; shit, he'd felt that way plenty of times over the years. The shifting eyes, the nervous stuttering. He'd gotten pretty good at hiding it, being able to put on the cool guy front. But Steve was doing it all out in the open.
Steve watched as you and Robin passed tapes back and forth--watched you more than Robin, actually--threw a comment in every now and again. When he cracked a joke, his eyes slid directly to you, and when you laughed, he beamed brightly.
And Eddie didn't know what he was more grateful for: the fact that you seemed oblivious to it all, or that he was there to witness it and put an end to it.
He tamped down the fire that built up inside of him and closed the distance; he threw an arm over your shoulder with a cool greeting to Robin and Steve.
"I've never even heard of some of these movies, have you?" Robin asked with some bewilderment.
"I don't know, this one sounds familiar," you hummed thoughtfully.
"See that's what I told Rob," Steve interjected and Eddie grit his teeth.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Robin scoffed.
"Isn't this the girl from Legend?" You held up a video box to Eddie to show him. He couldn't be bothered to really notice the titles of the movies on display--Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Lost Boys, Lethal Weapon--and instead he chose to press a kiss to the side of your head and continue glaring at Steve.
You turned back to Robin.
"Do you guys have Legend? I saw it when it came out but it'd be nice to see it again."
"I can show you!" Steve jumped at the chance, but Robin rolled her eyes and pushed him away.
"I've got this dingus," she waved at the tapes on the counter. "If you could finish processing these like you should've done yesterday?"
Steve huffed as you and Robin walked away, but Eddie stayed behind. He leaned over the counter, elbows resting against the edge.
"How've things been Harrington?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Uhh," Steve shrugged but pointedly ignored Eddie's eyes. "Good, fine."
"Did I overhear Buckley right? Going on dates? You finally over Nancy Wheeler," Eddie's voice got progressively louder.
"What the--listen keep your voice down, Jesus," Steve laughed nervously, gaze shifting in the direction that you and Robin had disappeared. "A guy's gotta move on. Can't be lovesick over Nance forever."
Eddie plastered a fake smile on his face and laughed heartily.
"Yeah? Gotta find someone else to obsess over?" The smile dropped almost immediately and he became dead-eyed. "Stop making goo-goo eyes at my girlfriend."
"Hey, Munson, I'm sorry--" Steve held his hands out innocently. "She just came in one day and I thought she was cute; I didn't know that you were--"
"I'm sorry," Eddie mimicked Steve, standing stiff and straight with shaking hands. "I didn't know the freak could have a girlfriend."
He reached across the counter and grabbed Steve by the vest and pulled him forward, close enough so he could get in his face.
"Don't look at her again, don't talk to her again," he hissed. "You can have literally any other girl in Hawkins, King Steve. So you better get over your crush fast."
Yeah, it was harsh, and in hindsight he should have been a little nicer about it. But after everything had compounded on him all week, it was nice to just be a raging asshole like everyone expected him to be.
Unfortunately, you had never experienced Eddie The Villain Munson.
"Eddie, what the hell!" you exclaimed as you appeared in his peripheral vision.
Until right that second.
"Let him go, what are you doing?" you rushed forward and slapped at his hands to get him to release Steve. He did, but continued to glare as he backed away and took several calming breaths.
"Hey, in all honesty," Robin laughed nervously as she returned to the counter. "Dudley Do-Right here probably said something dumb and deserved it."
"What's going on?" you ignored her and whispered to Eddie. "I thought we were just gonna have a relaxing day. You were fine two seconds ago. What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he deflected. "Don't worry about it."
"We can just go home and hang out like you wanted; you said Wayne has some Bonanza reruns on tape. We can laugh at Hoss and Little Joe and--"
His eyes went wide; the Bonanza tapes were by the TV, mixed up with the Port Geneva tapes.
"No!" he shouted aggressively...defensively; it startled you. "No Bonanza!"
"Oh...kay."
Then your whole demeanor changed.
You crossed your arms in front of you and your eyes went cold and distant; you frowned, deep enough to create lines on your forehead and around your mouth. You suddenly looked a lot older than you were, aged by disappointment and...guilt maybe? He didn't know. He'd never seen you like that before, and he suddenly felt bad.
"Let's uhh...let's just go," you offered quickly, then apologized to Steve and Robin for taking their time.
"Hey wait, I'm sorry," he tried to apologize. "We can still get a movie and hang out. I just...I don't know...I fucked up. I'm sorry."
"No, I...I forgot Bev said she might need some extra help today. Making some changes, I don't know. I need to go in. It's my fault. I'm sorry."
"Sweetheart wait!" he called out as you walked out of the store and towards your car. He looked back at Robin and Steve, who pointedly avoided looking at him, and then huffed a sigh and followed you.
The ride back to Forest Hills was tense and silent.
Eddie knew he fucked up, knew he hurt you, but didn't know what to say or how to fix it.
"What the fuck is wrong with Eddie Munson?"
That was the question of the week, and now even Eddie was asking it of himself. Especially since he couldn't even control himself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to you when you parked in front of his place. "I don't know...I'm just sorry."
"It's ok," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie, don't worry about it. You just had a bad week. I need to go to work. We'll hang out another time."
"I'll call you tonight," he promised. "After work."
"Sure," you offered a tight-lipped smile. "Just rest today ok? And feel better."
"Yeah."
"Everything's gonna be ok."
"I know."
He leaned over and gave you a kiss and there was something about the way that you kissed him...that made his heart ache, and he didn't know why.
Eddie watched as you drove away, off to the Hideout to help Bev, or whatever else you could do if it ended up being a lie so you could just get away from him.
He'd fix it; he had to. He just got his wish, got you; he couldn't lose you. It would be the last straw.
He climbed up the porch steps, lost in his own thoughts, but when he opened the door--
"What the fuck?"
--all of his worries were forgotten, because the trailer was trashed.
Wayne was blissfully asleep on the fold-out bed, but there were piles of laundry on the couch, dirty dishes piled in the sink in the kitchen. Empty, crushed beer and soda cans littered the floor; honestly, there was just trash everywhere.
Eddie had only left an hour or two ago, and the trailer...well it might have had some clutter but at least it was tidy. It looked like an atomic bomb of trash had exploded in here.
If he had just been wondering what was wrong with him, he was suddenly wondering what was wrong with the universe again.
"What the fuck?"
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The rest of the weekend had been spent cleaning.
Not tidying, literally cleaning.
He'd tried to ask Wayne about it all--maybe some weird trash bandit had come or kids trying to pull a prank, it wasn't like they really locked their doors--but what was even more suspicious was that Wayne didn't blink an eye at the mess.
"I work, you have school," he shook his head and tried to go back to sleep. "Chores pile up kid. That's the way it's always been. We'll get ahead of it again eventually."
And that just made Eddie feel bad; had it actually been this bad all along and he never realized it? Had Wayne done all this cleaning and housework on his own and now the weariness and the years just started to catch up? It must've only gotten worse now that Eddie lived with him.
So Eddie kept his head down and his mouth shut and tried to make it all better.
He cleaned and cleaned, and it seemed that no matter how much he cleaned, everything only got worse. The laundry on the sofa had been put away--more laundry than Eddie or Wayne really even had clothes to be honest. The fridge was somehow both empty--even though he'd just remembered to do a little grocery shopping...or had that been the other day--and full of rotten food at the same time. There was plenty of beer though. The dishes were all cleaned and spotless, only for him to come home from school on Monday afternoon to find them all to be right back again. Has they even used real dishes? Not that he could recall.
Fuck.
He complained to you on the phone late Saturday night--
"I don't know how it happened. It's like suddenly out of the blue it all just...appeared."
"Wayne didn't hold a secret party while we were out?" you asked, although your voice seemed stiff...distant.
"He just rolled right over and went back to sleep."
--but aside from some sympathy, you didn't seem to think anything was weird.
Hell, even his friends didn't seem suspicious.
"The trailer is always dirty," Gareth scoffed at practice on Monday night. "Like...no offense man, it's a trailer park, what do you expect."
It took everything in Eddie not to knock his buddy out right then and there; how many times had he told them how awful and stereotypical that kind of idea was. How hurtful people were when they found out he'd moved in with Wayne. Only for Gare to come back and spit it back at him again?
Instead he put that hateful energy into coming up with some kind of way to make you...forgive him...or love him again or something. He'd floated the idea of a ballad or some kind of love song to the guys at practice, ready to wow you on Tuesday night at the Hideout.
They hemmed and hawed but after he promised they'd all roll with advantage during the following Friday's session, they agreed and even suggested songs to get him back in your good graces.
Now it was Tuesday night. Time had passed by in a flash and he was standing at the door to the Hideout, ready to knock your socks off.
The guys were inside already, setting up, but he'd needed a moment to think of what to say to you.
He paced in the gravel, thought about his apology, thought about the song that he'd picked. The last song of the set, one he'd dedicate to you.
It would be perfect.
He mustered up the courage and walked inside, only to be hit by shock once again.
How many times could someone utter the words "what the fuck" in one week? Eddie had to be going for a world record.
When Eddie had suggested the Hideout when you mentioned looking for jobs, he'd warned you that Bev was a curmudgeon but the nicest curmudgeon you'd meet, and that the bar itself was, affectionately, a shithole. A house turned into a bar on the side of the highway, with a bunch of plywood in the corner that doubled as a stage, a makeshift bartop that was probably older than his uncle, and chipped glasses.
Now, it was almost...nice?
With an actual small, raised stage and a few spotlights hanging from the ceiling, neon signs boasting brands like Old Style and Coors--something Bev had always said was just the glitter and not the gold--and a sleek black bar with a marble top and comfortable-looking barstools. And it all had Eddie wondering if he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.
That was it right? That had to be it. He'd stepped into the Twilight Zone the minute you'd showed up outside of his trailer and he hadn't returned to the real world since.
"Hey, there you are," you approached him from behind the bar with a tense smile. "The guys were wondering when you'd come in. I got them all cherry cokes to shut them up."
"You didn't have to buy them drinks," Eddie shook his head. "They don't deserve it."
"On the house," you reassured him.
"I'm sorry," he choked on air. "On the...on the house? On the house meaning...Bev's treating? Bev who must've secretly won the lottery or something? Look at all of this." He gestured around the bar and then lifted his feet. "The floors aren't even sticky."
"I told you that she was making changes," you shrugged, but refused to meet his eyes.
"Changes, not...a full renovation, wow." He looked around in awe, then squinted when he saw something on one of the tables. "She even sprung for printed napkins too."
"Yeah," you laughed nervously. "Guess she did. It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you. You, uh, better get the guys before they cause too much trouble."
"Yeah I should," he nodded slowly, but grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away. "I know I've said it a million times sweetheart but I'm sorry I scared you."
"You didn't Ed, I promise," you tried to smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes.
"Can we talk maybe? After the set? Like really talk? I'll even wipe the tables off for you." You hesitated but nodded, and he gave you the briefest peck on the cheek before running down the back hallway to the little smokers exit to find the guys.
Only to find them in a legitimate green room in what he was sure used to be the storage room where Bev kept the kegs. His friends were all laid out along leather couches that sat along the perimeter of the room, sipping their cherry cokes and chatting. There was a coffee table right in the center laden with snacks and magazines.
"Man," he commented with a whistle, alerting the guys to his presence. "Can you guys believe this?"
"I know," Jeff giggled maniacally and then reached out to grab a bag of peanut M&M's. "Brand name snacks, and not the generic kind we usually get."
"Makes me feel like we're about to hit it big," Dave agreed.
Eddie tripped over his words for a second, not entirely sure that they were as astounded by the Hideout's transformation as he was, but he shook off the bewilderment to tell them it was time to go perform.
They raced back down the hall to the stage, and although the bar had just been empty when he walked in--save for you and some of the regulars slumped in their seats--there was definitely a crowd. Or the beginnings of one. A couple canoodling at a table, a few college-aged people ordering beers, and a group for a bachelorette party or something at the large booth that had been installed in the corner by the door.
"Wow," Eddie breathed out, nerves suddenly overtaking him. They'd never played a crowd like this before. "Hope they like metal."
And they did. They were head banging and once they were familiar enough with the lyrics a few people were singing along.
It was invigorating. Refreshing. Aside from the handful of people who'd been involved in the whole...record label fiasco, he'd really never experienced this many people who were excited for his sound. Their sound.
He wasn't gonna betray his friends, his band, like that again.
There were a few songs that Jeff and Gareth suggested that weren't originally on their setlist, and they really weren't metal technically, but they all knew the songs and the crowd was excited for them, so he couldn't complain.
Towards the end of the set, he felt his stomach churn with nerves again. Worse now, because it was time.
"Uh," he stepped up to the microphone, a little too close as it squeaked with feedback. "Hey guys, thanks for uh...thanks for coming out. Make sure you...tip your bartender...and her lovely assistant." He gestured over to you and a grumpy-looking Bev at the bar.
The audience clapped, even the handful of drunk regulars.
"Now uh, speaking of the lovely assistant, I...um..." he cleared his throat and looked down at his guitar. "I might have messed some stuff up with her the other day, and I know she's still a little mad at me. So sweetheart, without further ado, this one's for you. Corroded Coffin's rendition of..."
He paused. Froze.
The words were right on the tip of his tongue: All Through The Night.
They'd practiced it for hours, really making the cover theirs. They added all sorts of guitar riffs and a sick solo that ended with him sending a kiss across the bar to you. It was supposed to be perfect.
He cleared his throat and tried again.
"Corroded Coffin's All..." He shook, struggled to get the words out. "All...All My Only Dreams. Enjoy."
What the fuck? What the fuck?
He felt that out of body experience again, just like he had in the cafeteria, as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar and Gareth and Dave set a slow beat.
It felt like some bad knockoff song from the 60's. Maybe something he heard on one of his mom's records. But he couldn't place it.
What was this song? How did the guys know it? Why had he said that? What was All My Only Dreams?
It was certainly not metal. Certainly not music.
"Every night I pray, I'll have you here someday," he felt himself sing. "I'll count the stars tonight, and hope with all my might..."
He stared at you across the bar as the song continued, out of his control; the couple stood from their table and began swaying back and forth and you stood there behind the bar, wide-eyed with a hand covering your mouth. In shock or disbelief or pain he couldn't quite tell.
"Every waking hour it seems, I only have you in my dreams."
All he knew was, this song kept going and going and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Couldn't stop himself from playing or singing, couldn't stop Jeff from harmonizing with him on certain verses.
Until the song was over.
"If I could have just one request, stay with me girl I'll confess, all my only dreams."
He strummed the last few notes, and as soon as the audience started clapping, he felt whatever puppet strings get cut, felt himself in control again.
Eddie panicked. He didn't even wait for the applause to be over, didn't thank the crowd like he usually would. He just swung the guitar over his shoulder and jumped off the stage with the guys hot on his heels.
"What's going on?" Gareth hollered after him.
"Yeah Ed, where are you going?" Jeff caught up to him and tried to put a hand out to stop him, but Eddie just shrugged him away.
"That was our best performance ever," Dave insisted. "And applause on an original song to boot."
Eddie froze as he reached the green room, and then turned on his friends, hackles raised.
"Original song." He parroted. "Original song? That wasn't an original song!"
"Yeah it was," Jeff nodded. "All My Only Dreams. You made us practice it all night last night so it was perfect."
"We practiced All Through the Night," he laughed dryly. "Are you high right now Jeff? Fuck, am I high right now?"
"Are you?" Gareth exclaimed. "Because I didn't just learn that song so you could make it up to your girlfriend just so you could act crazy like this man."
Jeff walked over to the pile of their stuff in the corner of the room, and fished a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his backpack.
"Here I'll prove it to you," he grumbled and unfolded it. "All My Only Dreams. By Eddie Munson."
He shoved the paper into Eddie's hands and Eddie stared at it in disbelief. His handwriting, again, with words that he didn't remember writing. A little heart in the corner with your name scribbled inside of it, just like he did in his school notebook sometimes.
"What the fuck..." he muttered to himself, and then looked up at his friends, suddenly lightheaded and sick.
He felt angry, he felt like crying, he felt like...like everything in the world was turning upside down on him and it was some kind of cruel joke that everyone was in on but him.
He opened his mouth to start yelling, when your head appeared behind the guys.
"Hey, 'scuse me guys," you announced your presence and Dave, Jeff, and Gareth all parted so Eddie had a full view of you.
You looked just as sick as he felt. Your face was crumpled in a terrible pensive frown, hands wrung together in front of you.
"Can you give me and Eddie a few minutes alone? While you all break down your stuff?" you asked softly, and Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach as the others left.
You closed the door to the green room behind you and then took a few deep breaths.
This was it.
You were gonna break up with him.
The universe was cruel to let Eddie have you, only to play these games and lose you in such a short amount of time.
He was so caught up in the panic of possibly losing you that he didn't notice you talking until you were right in front of him. Your hands cradled his face and you stared into his eyes, your own full of worry.
"Eddie, Eddie are you ok?" you asked, voice edged with panic.
"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry...I was..."
"It's ok, don't worry," you reassured him. "It's...fuck...it's ok."
"Did you like the song?" he questioned, dumbly.
You let out a snort of laughter and then squished his face between your hands for a second.
"We need to talk," you whispered. "It's gonna be a lot. And it's not gonna be easy to hear, and I know you're gonna have a lot of questions, and I don't...I...fuck Ed...I'm so sorry."
"Are you breaking up with me?"
"I..." You looked lost for a second. "Eddie, I don't know how to answer that question. No...not really."
"Not really isn't no."
"Alright smartass," you scoffed. "No, I'm not breaking up with you. But that doesn't mean...doesn't mean that this thing we've got going on now isn't over. It's...what I'm gonna tell you right now is gonna change everything."
You helped him to sit down on one of the leather couches and then you paced back and forth, nervously chewing your thumbnail and looking for a way to start.
"This..." you began tentatively. "This isn't...real."
"So I am dreaming," he looked around for a moment. "Makes sense."
"No...you're not dreaming. It's just...well, ok, Ed. It's gonna be really hard to understand. But I'm gonna need you to tap into that big imagination of yours. Ok? Because God damn, if there was anyone I could get to understand, it's honestly you. Making up all sorts of stories and fantasies for Dungeons and Dragons.
“I’m sure you’ve started noticing things happening? Weird things, uncanny things, impossible things. And it’s making you go a little cross-eyed, a little crazy, makes you feel like you’re losing your mind because the only person who notices the changes…well it’s you. But it isn’t only you.
"This..." you waved around. "It's all real. It's a real world and we live in it. I'm real, you're real. I can touch you, kiss you. But it isn't. Not really."
He suddenly felt like you were talking down to him, and felt that irrational anger start to build again. You’d made sense up to a point. This was real, but it wasn't real, but it was real enough so he could kiss you? But somehow not real enough because you were bringing up stories he created for DnD, like it was all part of his imagination. But somehow he was also crazy?
"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.
"Eddie," you took a breath and closed your eyes for a second. "This right now? Everything you see? This room, that song, me, and you?"
"Yeah."
"We're all fictional. We're all...in a fan fiction."
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Next Chapter: Lore Dump
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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months
Note
Batboys watching anime with reader
You know my ass went FULL ON LOCK MODE with Tim. I went crazy- 💀
***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!
Doing requests until 1 Feb! Please see my pinned post and read the request rules on the navi! Thank you!🩷
Batbros watching anime with you
Dick Grayson
He’s watched a few 90s anime before, more the basic ones like One Piece and Pokémon, and he probably still watches them to this day. Boy has old CDs he has and you should probably try finding a Blue Ray (or use his if he can have Tim help fix it because it’s good as dead 💀) because he’s popping in every CD of old anime’s he have lying about.
“Wow, I didn’t know I had cowboy bebop! Or Slam Dunk!” He got a few rare gems, which makes it all the more fun to sit down on the couch under a blanket as you huddle and watch the nostalgic 90s anime shows together while eating popcorn.
He doesn’t mind watching new, modern day animes, just be prepared for when you two watch sad anime shows because he will sob like it’s the end of the world.
“NO, WHY WOULD KAORI DIE LIKE THIS?? AND SHE LOVES ARIMA- OH MY GOD IM SO—”sobs even more. He gets emotional while watching them because it’s so sad that it’s sO GOOD-
Loves dancing to those danceable anime music with you. He goes ALL. OUT. He even sings all of it in Japanese like wow-
I would love to hear him sing Cruel Angel’s Thesis in his Discowing suit and with goth makeup on it because it “sets the mood”, PLEASE-
Overall, great time watching with Dick. <3
Jason Todd
You expect someone like him to like Chainsaw Man, Trigun or something like those grunge-y, guns and knives animes, right? I mean, he does, but only with you and ONLY with you will he let his inner Magical Girl enthusiast ass shine. Because he LOVES Magical Girl animes. That’s probably the reason and one point of time why he wore red ribbons around his arms, he wanted that Sailor Moon experience and Tim might’ve just teased him about that era without knowing his love for Magical Girl animes and Jason might’ve flipped and freaked the fuck out and started chasing him down the manor.
Jason watches Sailor Moon, Madoka when he feels edgier than usual, Cardcaptor Sakura, every Precure series, Tokyo Mew Mew, man has all these shows somehow. He swears they weren’t through illegal means and he just worked very hard to gather all of them. He also might be a shoujo anime fan because if he loves Jane Austen books, you bet his ass would be reading Fruits Basket, Maid Sama or something because of course he would.
Also a Studio Ghibli fan, although watching the Tale of Princess Kaguya might make him feel too much, especially getting pissed off with the dad who forces his daughter into a wealthy life without her input and- yeah, you gotta calm him down as he cries bitterly and sourly with a pout on his face.
The two of you can go on and on about debating about unclear endings of animes all day long. You know the “AND SHE WAS A PRINCESS” video? That’s Jason.
Great man to watch anime with, and he’ll gladly be your Tuxedo Mask to your Sailor Moon (and not the “But you did nothing meme- or the other way around- he don’t mind being the Usagi-). <3
Tim Drake
I’m very convinced this man got into his whole detective shit because he watched Detective Conan and honestly I can’t blame him. Tim has probably the largest vessel of anime knowledge out of all of them. He doesn’t really have a specific genre he likes but he’s pretty fond of old 90s and 80s animes. He can explain the whole lore of One Piece, Fairytale, Pokémon like Jesus Tim, calm down- 💀
I can see him watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, Serial Experiments Lain or Key the Metal Doll because he likes that little bit of horror nature and mystery and thriller in his animes although he really doesn’t mind watching Haikyuu all over again if you want to.
Might introduce you to underrated and/or old animes like Revolutionary Girl Utena, Nadia the Secrets of Blue Water, every Studio Ghibli movie, those kinds of animes that give off the really pretty and aesthetic old anime animations that is just so pretty to watch and with really good storylines that both of you can cuddle on a couch together and watch. I bet he even watches anime with you even before you two got together, so you guys pretty much have “watching anime together” as part of the foundation of your relationship. Owns so much manga that you can’t even count, too.
Just… don’t make him watch those really slow burn, comedy love animes, specifically Love War. Not that he don’t like romance animes, he watches Ouran High School Host Club and Your Name, trust me, but Love War? He is going absolutely insane because of it.
“OH MY GOD- PLEASE JUST KISS ALREADY. ME AND S/O ARE ALREADY TOGETHER FIVE MONTHS AGO ANF YOU TWO ARE STILL TOO PROUD TO ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER WHILE BLUSHING- JUST KISS ALREADY-” <3
Damian Wayne
Damian likes anime. Would 100% go to an anime convention with you as a date if you’re up for it. He doesn’t mind (surprisingly- just for you only-).
He doesn’t necessarily like showmen animes although he has enjoyed a few, but he really loves slice of life, I feel. It just feels like he wants to put himself in a normal life and with a tad bit of drama in it like what the characters go through. The touching ones like Hyouka or Natsume’s Book of Friends.
Also animal related anime maybe except Beastars because he didn’t understand shit-?? He calls that peak anime. Aggretsuko, Chi’s Sweet Home and My Roommate is a Cat?? Damian loves this shit, he watches it intently with his arm around you. Even if he doesn’t smile, you know he loves it by the way his eyes sparkle.
Just don’t tell his brothers. He will seriously feel betrayed if you do so because he only watches these kinds of shows with you: the cute animal ones that are actually wholesome and/or funny.
The whole family is into Studio Ghibli, and he is no exception. He feels like it’s the best kinds of anime to watch with you when you guys just want to turn in for the day and huddle up on the couch. It’s one of the rare times he relaxes and softens and he’s glad to have quality time with you. <3
Duke Thomas
He likes anime! Studio Ghibli is definitely a favourite of his and he would gladly watch it together with you! He also love a fair bit of Shounen animes, the more popular ones like Jujutsu Kaisen, One Piece, Haikyuu, or Spy x Family. He likes them a lot!
A big fan of romance animes too: Ouran High School Host Club and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (if you two are in the mood to huddle on the couch together and cry).
Duke doesn’t mind any kind of anime so long as it doesn’t have too much horror or gore like… Higurashi. He gets chills when that anime is mentioned. D-Don’t watch it for your own sake if you don’t know. And if you do, avoid it with him at all cost because he will.
Duke also like singing some good anime songs with you and you guys can go crazy and dance around, just not as dramatic as Dick.
He would be super excited to spend a date with you watching shounen anime movies like from Jujutsu Kaisen and he would be so hype to spend time with you being a fanboy while also sharing that romantic air for the shared love of anime between you two and the love that you two share, although that love is far stronger. <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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dreamingundone · 10 months
Text
When The Morning Comes
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OFC (could be read as reader-insert, no use of Y/N) Summary: Jake doesn’t do serious. He was really upfront and honest about that. So why is he he one getting really tired of saying goodbye every morning? Rating: PG-13 for swears. Words: 3K+ Author’s Note: Here I am again writing fic in the year 2023 because I haven’t stopped thinking about Jake Seresin since last summer. This is slightly Band of Brothers adjacent because I’m incapable of putting away that particular hyper-fixation but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand this. Disclaimer: I don’t own the character Jake or Top Gun: Maverick. Please don’t re-post or translate my work without my permission. There's probably some inaccuracies here though I did my best to Google a few things, but even so, please be nice.
He watches her as she works out of the corner of his eye. He tells himself that he's not seeking her out every time he wanders the corridors at the hangar, but it just happens.
She's impossible to ignore.
There's a sinking feeling in his gut as she very much doesn't make eye contact with him, and in fact, she brushes by him as she leaves the room without so much as a glance.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
.
Six months earlier
"Listen up!" Maverick calls over the din, and when he can't get anyone's attention except for Dagger Squad, Admiral Bates does the job with a sharp whistle.
The hangar goes quiet, and they sit quietly as they listen to the mission briefing. Three months of training, and then they'll be shipped out to God knows where for God knows how long.
While he's pretty used to this particular way of life by now, he sees some of the other squads he doesn't know sharing nervous looks.
There's a group standing closer to the door that he's never had the pleasure to interact with - the medical staff from Sick Bay. The doctors look bored, but there's a new medic who's caught his eye from the minute he walked into the room.
She's taking notes or something, and Jake smirks as she looks up, meeting his eyes briefly. She rolls her eyes and looks back to her notebook, which only makes him smile wider.
He introduces himself the first time he gets a chance, later at the Hard Deck.
"I'm Jake," he says, holding out a hand.
"Good for you." She says, not looking up from her phone.
"Waiting on someone?"
"Someone else, definitely."
There's something about the way she says it - there's no heat in her words really, even though he knows she's trying to put him off. Look -- everyone thinks Jake is an asshole, and he knows he can be sometimes, but he doesn't want to stick around where he's clearly not wanted, even if all he wants to do is sit here with her and learn everything there is to know about her.
"Enjoy your drink," he says, and leaves her there looking a little surprised, if the crease between her brows is any indication.
.
It's a few days later when he has an excuse to see her again, though not under the circumstances he would have wished.
He's being semi-held up between Javy and Rooster, and he's scowling. "I'm fine," he grumbles.
"Sure, tell that to the control panel you smashed your head off of." Javy says, and Jake would roll his eyes, it's just that he can't really see straight, so he thinks he'd just pass out.
Okay, so he had to emergency land. At least he didn't have to eject.
"Put him here." He hears her voice, kind but authoritative. "Lieutenant Seresin, I thought I told you the other night I wasn't interested."
Javy snorts, and Rooster bites back a grin.
"Desperate times calls for desperate measures." Jake says, groaning as he lies back on the exam table.
Then she's there, looming over him, and the irony isn't lost on him that this is the first time she's looking him directly in the eye. Well, her and her flashlight, anyway.
"Pupils a bit larger than I'd like." She mutters. He finds himself really unable to do anything other than watch her as his vision wavers. "Concussion, obviously." She says. "Is the light bothering you?"
"A little." He answers.
She hums in sympathy. "You need stitches. Give me a minute." She says, and then her warmth is gone, and the bright light overhead is all he can see, making him close his eyes.
He sighs. This really isn't the impression he wanted to make.
Dimly, he registers Javy and Rooster leaving the room, saying they needed to go tell the rest of the Daggers how he was doing. He's sure Phoenix and Bob are pacing somewhere. Mav, too.
"Stupid." He mutters.
"What?" She asks, sounding offended.
"Nothing. Not you." He says, eyes opening as she leans over him again, hissing when she wipes an antiseptic over his forehead. "A little warning would have been nice."
"Don't be a baby." She chides, face full of determination. "Stay still."
He lets her work for a few minutes before he tries again. "I meant that I felt stupid for this."
She meets his eyes quickly. "Sounded like you did what you had to do so you didn't kill yourself."
"You were listening?" He asks, surprised. He feels dumber that he didn't realize that. Of course the medics were on standby.
"It's my job." She says. She pauses for a minute, glancing at her wrist. Her wristwatch is turned the wrong way round, so the face of it is on the inside. It's very military, and it makes him smile. It's how he can spot another Navy guy a mile away.
Hers is different than his, though, the face worn and scratched.
"Is that thing even ticking?" He asks as she gets back to work.
Her tongue is between her teeth as she completes the next few stiches, the sight making him a little distracted.
"It was my great-grandfather's."
He feels like he's bothering her, so he doesn't ask any more questions, but she surprises him by continuing.
"He's the reason I wanted to get into medicine. He was an Army medic."
"And that was his service watch?"
"Made it through the drop to Normandy and back."
Jake's eyebrows rise. "A paratrooper."
She nods. "He died before I was old enough to figure out what I wanted to do, but this watch has kept on ticking. Feels like I've got him over my shoulder advising me on what to do."
"That's really nice." Jake says honestly, and again he catches a surprised look on her face.
"I'm sorry," she says, maybe seeing the way his features droop. "You can sit up," she says off-hand before continuing. "I wasn't really fair to you. I've just-- to be honest, I've heard some things. Made me think..."
Jake nods. He knows what everyone says. And to be fair, he's never given anyone other than his friends any reason to doubt the rumors about him. What's the point? He'd rather let everyone on North Island think what they want than spending time fighting his reputation. It's not worth it, especially when he leaves often for months at a time.
"Anyway. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."
He shakes his head, pasting on a smile he doesn't really feel. "No harm done. I don't really... I don't really do serious. So the rumors aren't far off." He doesn't know why he says it. It's the truth - he's scared of getting attached. He's no good at being someone's boyfriend and he knows it. But still -- it feels weird to say it out loud to her.
"Well. Okay then, Lieutenant. You're going to be grounded for awhile, unfortunately. Come back next week and we'll see how you're doing."
.
Over the next few weeks, they do more mission prep, which means the medical team and the Daggers are together more often than not. They'll all be together as a wing on the carrier, and it's important that everyone knows all the details of every minute of the mission.
They have enough downtime too, and that's where he really finds himself in deep trouble. All because of her.
Phoenix has taking a liking to her, and really, everyone else has too. It's hard not to like her.
He's watching her now, contemplative eyes as he tilts his beer bottle back to his lips, and his heart does a funny little flip at the sound of her laugh.
He's surprised when she makes her way over to him at the end of the night, elbowing him lightly.
"All alone, Hangman?"
He smiles wryly. "Only got room in my heart for one lucky lady, Doc."
The nickname was her great-grandfather's, and it's stuck to her too. The first time Mav called her that, she got a little misty-eyed, and Jake found it so endearing he could barely look at her.
She rolls her eyes. "You get back up in the air tomorrow."
He nods, having been cleared by the medical team earlier that day. He can't wait. He misses the adrenaline and the sound of the engines roaring underneath him.
"Thanks to you," he says, nudging her in return. She'd been like a drill sergeant the last few weeks, watching him like a hawk to make sure he stuck to paperwork and didn't overwork himself while he recovered from his concussion.
"Just doing my job." Her standard answer. He thinks it's interesting that someone so confident has a hard time accepting any praise.
"No, it's something else." He says, taking another pull from his bottle. "You were born to do this, I think. You've got a special touch."
She blinks rapidly, and for a horrifying moment, he thinks she might cry. She clears her throat. "How many of those have you had?" She gestures towards the bottle in his hand. "I said one beer, Seresin."
"Not even a full one." He assures her. "And I mean that, Doc."
The way she's looking at him sends his heart racing. Is she--? No, he's imagining it, that she looks like she's leaning in a little, her lips parted invitingly. That's impossible.
"Thank you, Jake." She says softly, and it's the first time she's ever called him by his first name. It takes everything inside of him to stop from leaning into her a little bit more, and in the end he doesn't fight it.
They sit there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night. And if her pinky brushes his just a little on the bartop, he doesn't draw attention to it. He just lets it happen, enjoying the warmth unfurling inside of him.
.
The briefing where they get their assignments for the mission is tense. This is a dangerous one. Top secret, and not even the medic team is allowed in the room with the Daggers while they get briefed.
There's some speculation that they won't even come along - that this mission is so secret, the fewer eyes on it, the better.
It makes something twist inside him, the thought that he might not see her until he comes home from deployment. He hasn't had that feeling in a really, really long time.
Afterwards, he's wandering the corridors aimlessly when he quite literally runs smack into her.
"Oh!" She says, surprised, and he grabs at her arms instinctively, holding her upright.
"Sorry, Doc."
"Are you okay?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Fine. I--" He looks up, meeting her eyes. "Will you go to dinner with me?"
She swallows. "What?"
"Look, I'm not looking for anything serious. I'm starting to think you aren't either. But I also like you, and I'd like to take you to dinner. If you want." It all comes out in a rush.
"Okay." She says quietly.
"Okay?"
"Okay." She repeats.
.
They don't even make it through dinner.
He's so distracted by the sight of her in civilian clothes that he can barely form a coherent sentence all night.
It must show on his face, and he really feels like an asshole for it, but she also responds to it, so he doesn't stop himself from staring at her, not this time.
Somewhere in the middle of the dinner course, she puts down her fork. "Are you going to take me home now?"
He doesn't think he's ever scribbled his signature on a check so fast in his life.
After that it's all a blur of heated gazes, wandering hands, and finally, mouths meeting. It's all flushed skin and, for Jake, trembling hands. He tries not to examine that particular fact too much.
In the morning, she leaves before he wakes up. He feels a little weird about it, but it's also how it has to be. It's how he's always done things. And if that's good for her too, even better.
.
They go on like that for weeks. He tries not to think about how each morning it's harder and harder to watch her get dressed in the haze when she thinks he's still asleep.
He tries not to think about how she always looks back over her shoulder before she goes, something soft in her eyes.
He tries not to count down the days between now and his deployment date.
On a Friday morning, he's making no show of the fact that he's awake when she slides out from under the sheets and starts dressing.
"You could stay." He says, voice a little hoarse.
She pauses, but pulls her shirt over her head. "Don't do that." She says, voice quiet but firm.
"Just for breakfast."
"This is what you wanted, Jake. I'm just trying to make this easy for both of us."
His face twists. "And I can't change my mind?"
"Actually, no." She says, voice harsh. "Because you've said to me a hundred times that you weren't looking for anything serious. Staying longer, spending days together... that's serious. I'm just doing what you wanted."
Maybe I don't want that anymore. The thought rattles around in his brain, but he doesn't say it.
"It doesn't have to mean anything." He says without thinking, and the look she gives him is withering.
"You've been doing your best not to let any of this mean anything, Seresin."
"We're going by last names now?"
"For fuck's sake, Jake!" She hisses, tugging her pants on. "I should have trusted my instincts with you. I should have listened to my gut."
He sits up straighter now, hurt lacing his tone. "So you've just been miserable for the last few months, right? None of this has been pleasurable for you, and that's my fault."
"I didn't say that."
"You know what? Don't let me keep you. Must have been a moment of insanity." He says, voice hard. "You're right. Keep it simple, keep it meaningless. That's perfect."
She doesn't say anything else as she gathers the rest of her stuff and slams the door behind her.
He doesn't see her again until the final mission briefing before deployment.
They're being deployed to the same carrier. That wasn't supposed to happen. The whole reason he decided to take a chance, to finally act on these feelings that he's afraid to identify... it was spurred on by the idea that he may come back in a year to find her elsewhere.
Their eyes meet across the hangar. There's nothing friendly in them now.
He swallows hard. This is going to be a shit-show.
.
They're out in the middle of the goddamned ocean when he, yet again, has to race to Rooster's rescue. It's not nearly as terrifying as the last time it happened, but he's still furious at his friend for risking his life once again. Rooster skids into the carrier with his landing gear barely hanging on, and the rough landing has him doing his best impression of Jake himself all those months ago when he nearly smashed his face into the control panel.
He has to help Rooster get to the Sick Bay because he can't do it on his own, and no matter how much he wants to avoid seeing her, he needs to get help, and Doc is the best, there's no doubt about it.
They ignore each other, though he watches her. He can't help it. She handles Rooster like he's the most important person in the room, and it twists something inside Jake, though he knows that's what makes her invaluable.
She leaves before he can say anything to her.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
In the corridor outside Sick Bay, she's lingering. Pacing.
Jake stops. He's not sure how to get past her without speaking to her. And truthfully, he knows he owes her an apology. He owes her more than that, but he doesn't know how.
"He's going to be okay," She says. "Just so you know."
"I know. Had you fixing him up, after all."
"You sounded scared on the comms."
He shakes his head. "He's reckless."
"He's your friend. It's okay to worry." It's okay to feel things, she doesn't say, but he hears it like she shouted it.
He puts his hands on his hips. "I worry a lot, actually. I worry about a lot of things."
She's just watching him warily, and he goes on, actually unable to stop rambling.
"I worried from the second I met you that I was going to fall in love with you, and that's exactly what happened."
Her mouth falls open, and he plows on.
"I worried that if I let myself get too close, I'd never recover when inevitably you found someone better than me. I didn't think we were getting deployed together. I thought I'd never see you again, that I'd come home and you'd have found someone that deserves you. So I put a boundary there, and I never should have. Even when you respected it, I got angry with you. Because I did want more."
"Jake, what the fuck?" She breathes, and he laughs.
"I know. I'm an asshole, and I'm sorry. I just-- I couldn't stop myself. With every little thing I learned about you, I just fell a little harder. And that was never the deal. So even when you acted like... like you could've felt the same way, I didn't give you the chance." He smiles, but it's more like a wince. "Call it self preservation, I guess."
"You're so stupid, Lieutenant Seresin." Her voice is shaky. "As if I would have thought about anyone else for a year, even if we were separated."
His head snaps back up to meet her eyes. "Doc?"
"I've been falling for you this whole time too, you idiot. And the only reason I didn't want to stay that morning was because I'd worked so hard to stop myself wanting more than you were willing to give."
"I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that."
"I can keep saying it, if it helps."
She takes two quick strides in his direction while they're alone, and kisses him. Quick and hard, it sets his skin afire and his heart pounding.
"Back to work, Hangman." She says against his lips as she lowers herself down to her feet. "We'll talk about this later." Her thumb presses into the dimple on his cheek.
"If I have to, Doc." He says, and this time when he watches her walk away, he knows it's for the last time.
He's not going to let her out of his sight for a long time, if he can help it.
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schemmentisbranzino · 3 months
Text
A Liking for Riding - Part 1
Note: This is based off an anon i got requesting a story similar to this. I had to delete the original post because it was not showing up on the melissa x reader tag :( if you see this post know i know its not fully fulfilling your request, but i’ll get there! If you would like to keep reading <3
Warnings: None
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You thought you were going to have a pretty chill teacher planning day. Without the kids around, you were going to have time to grade their work and start planning your future lessons. Turns out Ava had other plans. You hear her loud voice over the intercom: “Hello teachers, fortunately for you, you will have to be spending some time with me today. The district is mandating we do some team building exercises. Should be fun. Can’t wait to get all the tea. Meet in the lounge room in 10 mins.”
“Oh no” - you scoff and start putting all your stuff away, you weren’t planning to spend time with anyone today, specially not with that certain redhead you havent been able to stop thinking about since the day you put a foot at Abbott Elementary.
You walk out of your classroom and see Melissa and Barbara making their way to the lounge. Barbara gives you a good morning. As polite as she always is. Melissa says hi with a soft smile, sparkling green eyes meeting yours and making your entire body tingle. God, the power she has over you. One 2 letter word and you are already on cloud 9. She grabs you by the hand in order to direct you in the same direction they are going, she lets go a few seconds later but her fingers keep brushing against yours as you keep walking, you look at her and you swear you can see a smirk forming on her face. It is like she knows what she does to you, like she enjoys teasing you, touching you ever so slightly to get a reaction out of you. Is she doing it on purpose? Is it a game to her? Does it inflate her ego? You don’t know and you don’t ask. You enjoy those little moments when she touches you or compliments you. A little glimpse of hope that your love might be a little requited. Why break your heart with the truth? The reality is that Melissa was just being herself and that she had never seen you as more than a friend… but it feels… nice.
You arrive at the lounge and all the teachers are already seated. You are given a paper with all the activities that are going to be done throughout the day and you get exhausted just by reading them. Are you ready to become this close to all your coworkers? Probably not. Just to one, though. And the possibility of spending time with her was enough to make you excited about the day.
You go through multiple rounds of exercises on how to resolve conflicts among your coworkers. As is if any of them were going to work on your people. You already had your perfect coworker dynamic and no textbook advice would ever make Janine to stop meddling or Ava do her job, etc. But it was fun to be there, to see Melissa roll her eyes at everything Ava said and shoot smiles your way as if you were her Sun in that cloudy and annoying day.
At some point, its time for an exercise that requires the teachers to share what their passions are outside of school.
Everyone hears Barbara talk about how her favorite thing to do when she is not teaching her little kids is to go to church and worship Jesus. Nobody expected any other response from her.
Next goes Melissa and your eyes just watch her in amazement as she talks about how cooking is everything to her and her family. Her delivery is quite aggressive but is just so endearing to you. You could hear that woman talk about lasagna and baked ziti all day.
“You are going to drool, y/n” - Jacob whispers in your ear as he notices the way you are starting at Melissa.
You roll your eyes at him and before he can keep saying anything is your time to share.
“Well, outside of work I like to ride” - you state before you even realize the way it could be interpreted.
“I am sure you do” - Ava says poking fun at you in a flirtatious way and everyone laughs, well everyone but Melissa.
“I mean horses, Ava” - you respond annoyed “I have been riding horses since I was much younger, I even have my own horse, his name is Jasper”
“You ride horses? Hon, that is so cool” - Melissa says to you and you can feel your face blushing.
“Oh come on, Im alright” - you say giving her back the most sincere smile of the day
“You didn’t say I was cool when I shared that i have been taking biking lessons, Melissa”
“Well that would be cool if you were 10, Janine”
The rest of the group laughs at the interaction while Melissa shifts her attention back to you.
“So an equastrian, huh?” - she says as she sits next to you, her thigh pressed against yours, making it difficult to concentrate. - “I have always wanted to learn how to ride, when I was younger I used to want a horse so bad, my favorite plushie was a little brown pony, I took it everywhere, I asked for a pony every Christmas for 5 years till I gave up. And if you tell anyone i had plushies i will deny it.”
You don’t quite know what to respond to such an adorable statement. This woman had so many layers, and discovering more of them was your favorite thing to do. From hardcore take no-shit stubborn woman to the softest one that gives you warm smiles and tells you about her childhood plushies.
“Hon” - noticing that you spaced out, she takes your hand in hers and brings you back to reality.
“Sorry, yes, I love riding, i love horses. They are one of the sweetest most loyal animals and I just love being around them. They truly own my heart. Specially my baby Jasper”
Her eyes soften as she sees you talk with such affection and love about these horses.
“Thats so incredible, sweetheart, you are” - she says before she notices that she might be saying too much
“You got any pictures?” - she asks before you have any time to respond.
At this point everyone has cleared out the room and is just you and Melissa in the lounge. You are showing her pictures of your horse and all the other horses you have had, trained or help rehabilitate. Melissa seems to like the conversation and enthusiastically react to all the pictures you show her. You can’t quite tell if this is about the horses or about you, but you are enjoying it.
“You are really sweet, you know” - you tell her as you put your phone down after showing her the many pictures of horses you have in your phone.
“What do ya mean, hon? I just really like horses”
“Just the horses?” - you say before thinking what is coming out of your mouth and once you realize it, its too late to take it back
"Well," Melissa replied with a shy smile, "to be honest, I am enjoying the time we're spending together." She leaned in closer, her eyes locked on yours, as a hint of a blush spread across her cheeks. She hesitated slightly before saying, "I also like seeing you happy."
Her words sent a spark of electricity through you body, excitement and confusion taking over your body.
“What can i say? Spending time with you makes me happy, Schemmenti” - you said trying to seem confident but the close proximity at which she was standing had you feeling weak in the knees.
Melissa learned in even closer. Is she? Is she going to kiss me? You thought to yourself. Your heart was racing and your body trembled with anticipation as you saw Melissa inches away from you. You could feel her breath on your lips, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss her. The tension in the air was palpable. You closed your eyes, wanting to savor every second of this moment.
As your lips were about to touch, Janine barges into the room, “I - I a forgot my coat, sorry, im so sorry” - she grabs her jacket and runs out of the door.
If looks could kill, Janine wouldn’t have survived the one that Melissa just gave her.
“Just Janine being Janine and ruining things” - you say under your breath, clearly annoyed that your dreams did not came true.
“Don’t worry, hon, there’ll be plenty of time for that” - Melissa says planting a chaste kiss on your forehead.
You don’t respond. Confused as to what that might mean. Sure, you are friends and sure you always flirt with each other, but this is different. Melissa has become increasingly flirty and close to you these past few weeks. Her hands lingering longer on your body, her eyes finding you in every room, her sweet words. You thought nothing of it, but after today’s events the hope in your heart grows.
“How about we go to my house and I make you a late lunch?” - she says caressing your cheek with her fingers, a gesture that makes your heart flutter.
“Actually, I can’t. I had made plans to go see Jasper in the barn today and help my instructor with some things. I-“
“Don’t worry, hon, there will be another time” - Melissa says interrupting you. A wave of sadness clearly taking over her face. Her eyes no longer sparkling.
“You can come with, I’d love for you to meet Jasper”
Her face completely lights up, you could see the excitement in her eyes as she agrees to come with you see your horse.
The car ride is about one hour and you are extremely excited but nervous to be spending so much time in an enclosed space with Melissa after what happened earlier. She insists in driving and you happily sit in the passenger seat. You want to relax and enjoy the ride, but a thousand thoughts are going through your brain. You space out thinking about them while you keep your eyes locked on the redhead at the wheel. She is so beautiful, you feel like you want to look at her forever. Memorize her every freckle, every single one of her wrinkles, the shape of her nose. You think about her lips and what it would be like to taste them, to feel them against yours..
“You are staring, hon. What is in that little head?” - she says as she reaches out to squeeze your hand
“About earlier, you were about to kiss me, weren’t you? and you said there’d be more…”
“And there will be more, hon. Don’t get too impatient”
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locker42 · 1 year
Note
Hey hey what’s up
Just wondering if u could do one where Luke comes back and is furious that jj trashed the pills. After jj has to feel the aftermath of Lukes rage, Y/N finds  him hurt and angry and they get into a really bad  argument.  to which Y/N goes to Lukes place without JJ or the others knowing to confront Luke/ or secretly get Jjs stuff and ends up getting beaten up?
Something into that direction would be great 
Shitty Father
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Warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, injuries.
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!reader.
Word count: 4702.
Masterlist.
Sorry it took me so long, had quite a lot going on. Gonna start posting again!
It wasn’t unlike JJ to disappear for three days but it still worried you every time. Because you knew it had something to do with his dad - it always had. All the times he came to your window, face all bruised up and bloody, holding his tears in. There were too many times. You wanted to go to his house and check on him, however after remembering his warnings about coming anywhere near his house, you hesitated.
As you drove towards the Chateau the only thought in your head was if JJ was alright. You hated the feeling in your stomach, because you knew something was wrong. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in three days, and with every passing hour your worry grew.
After locking your car you walked up the stairs to the porch of the Chateau. What you did not expect to find there was JJ, sitting on the couch with his hands in his hair. You walked towards him slowly, careful not to make any loud noises. “JJ.” You called quietly, but it was enough for him to lift his head up.
You almost gasped when you saw the purple bruised around his swollen eye, the dry blood on his nose and the cut on his lip. There were dry tears on his cheeks and the sight made you want to pull him into your arms and never let go, but you knew better than that.
“Hey,” you started as you slowly knelt in front of him, “can I take care of you?”
He didn’t seem to hear your question as he stared at the floor beneath you. You could hear his rapid breathing and his hands that were gripping his hair to hide the shaking.
“JJ, please.” You tried again, gently bringing your hands to his wrists and pulling them away from his face. He didn’t object and let you lift his head, but his eyes refused to meet yours.
“Let me take care of your injuries. You don’t have to talk to me, just let me help you.”
Still not making eye contact with you he nodded, allowing you to pull him up and lead him towards the bathroom. You already had a first aid kit ready there for when him or John B or any other Pogues would get into a fight. JJ took a seat on the toilet and you knelt on the floor before him. Grabbing the slightly wet gauze you started cleaning his face.
“I’m sorry.”
He whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.
“Sorry for what, love?”
He lifted his eyes and finally met yours. And it hurt. Because you saw how much pain and sadness were in them. And it hurt you, to know that the person you love most in the whole world was treated the way he was. If just you to see him hurt.
“For disappearing on you, again. You don’t deserve the way I treat you, Y/N. God, you’re so good to me and I’m-“
“Im gonna stop you right there.” You cut him off, stopping your work to clear your hands and to cup both sides of his face, careful around the bruises. “I’m gonna stop you right there because whatever more you are going to say is bullshit. JJ, you are everything to me, and that’s not a small amount. You are the light in my life, the laughter, the happiness. Without you, JJ, we’re all doomed. All the Pogues. You don’t need to apologize about this nor do you need to explain yourself. I love you, that’s why I’m good to you. Because love isn’t about deserving, it’s about giving. And I’m choosing to give you everything because you give me the love that matters the most to me.”
He stared at you for a few second before one tear fell from his eye and down his cheek. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb. He leaned in, placing his lips against yours in a soft yet passionate kiss that delivered all the love he felt toward you.
“I love you so fucking much, you know that?”
“I do. I love you, too, JJ.”
After you cleaned him up you laid on the bed beside him, his head on your chest and your hand in his hair, playing with it. His hand was holding your free one, tracing circles on the back of it. You could hear his breathing, no longer fast and panicked but slow and relaxed. His whole body relaxed against yours and you felt relief at that. Relief that your JJ was right there, with you, safe and protected from all harm. You pressed your lips to his forehead, a small smile rising on your face as he hummed to the little act of love. At that moment you knew that no matter what or where, everything was alright as long as he was by your side.
________
As the sun rose, you were already awake, drowning in thoughts. Although JJ was back you were still haunted by the thoughts of what went down with him in those three days. He’s already agreed on staying at John B’s or yours when things got rough so why was he back home? And why did it take him three days to come back?
Before you could drown yourself in your worries, JJ walked into the kitchen. He was shirtless, all the bruising on his torso exposed. His hair was a mess, part of it because you played with it all night. He walked all the way beside you and hugged you from behind. You smiled, leaning back against him and reaching to rub his arms.
“Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” You asked, turning in his arms to face him.
“Good, only because you were beside me all night.” He answered with a soft smile and placed a light kiss to your lips. “What about you? What are you doing awake so early?”
“Noting, just thinking.” You shrugged, placing your head under his chin.
“About?” He asked, running his hand through your hair.
“What happened, JJ? When you were gone, what happened?” You dared ask him, lifting your head to look at him. He sighed, letting go of you and running his hand through his hair, leaning on the counter behind him.
“I came back home to get some clothes, but when I was leaving I saw a bottle of pills on the coffee table and I just- I don’t know what I was thinking but I just knew that I didn’t have the energy to deal with one more relapse of his. So I through the pills away and I walked out of the house when he arrived. He noticed the pills were gone and, well..”
He trailed off, and you didn’t need to guess to know what happened next. But it angered you, it angered you that he was still going back there and looking out for him. But most of all, you were burning with hatred for Luke. What kind of father beats their own child? And then he claims to love him.
“I still can’t understand why are you always going back there.” You said, and he immediately sighed, knowing what conversation was ahead. “No, I mean, seriously, JJ. And why didn’t you tell me? God, I could just kill him.”
“You’re not gonna do anything, okay?” He said sternly, grabbing you when you tried to turn around. “Look, I know it’s fucked up but, he’s my dad, Y/N. I can’t just ignore that.”
“He’s you dad? What has he ever done for you?” You challenged, letting your anger and frustration overflow.
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” He refused, but you were not done.
“Answer me, JJ. You say he’s your father but what kind of father does this? You keep justifying his behavior and standing up for him when any of us say something bad about him. But it’s all true. He’s a no-good, low-life, shifty asshole. I just don’t-“
He didn’t let you finish, grabbing your shoulders tightly.
“Just shut up, okay? You’re not making things better or easier by saying those things. You will never understand it, Y/N.”
You wiggled yourself out of his grip with a frown on your face. “Then help me understand, JJ. Because I can’t stand watching you get hurt all the time, and then you only come back for more.”
“We’re different, okay?” He raised his voice. “You and I,” he pointed, “were different. We come from different worlds. You’re a Kook, as much as you don’t like to admit it, you’re a Kook. You don’t have to deal with this type of shit I deal with. That’s why you will never understand this.”
“Really? You’re pulling the Kook card on me? Why, ‘cause I was born on a different side of the island?” You said, feeling yourself grow angrier.
“Yes!” He yelled. “That’s exactly why. Ever since you’ve been born you’ve been been fed everything with a silver spoon. You have parents who will do anything for you and you have a roof to live under without having to worry about who pays the bills or whether we have water and electricity this month or not. That’s not how people like me live.”
“I know that, JJ.”
At this point, you’ve created a space between you, not wanting to get close to him at the moment.
“I know that there’s an obvious difference between us. But first of all, my parent will not do anything for me, they have proven that the second I started hanging out with you. I’m not saying that we’re the same, I’m saying that I am able to understand what you’re going through-“
“No, you don’t!” He cut you off, making you jump at the raise of his voice. “You don’t understand, Y/N. You know why? Because all your life you’ve been a spoiled Kook who didn’t have a clue that in order to live you have to work. I mean, why would you? Your parents are a pair of arrogant assholes who probably fed you some shit about the low-lifers and about the fact that it’s our fault that we’re living in poverty. Because, admit it, you’ve never really gave a fuck about us Pogues until you met me, is that right?”
You were face to face, closer than you’d like. Your eyes were burning with tears of anger, hurt and frustration. You couldn’t believe he was saying those words. You really thought that he didn’t care about Kook or Pogue, that he cared about your relationship over your status.
���Well, I’m just some spoiled Kook, how would I know?” You said, your voice shaking slightly but you didn’t let it affect the glare you sent him as you moved across to the guest bedroom to get your stuff and get the hell out of there. You were sure John B had heard everything from his room but you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get out of there and far away from JJ.
You walked straight past him as he tried to talk to you, heading to the front door.
“Y/N, please, just let me talk to you.” He continued, but you ignored him. You opened the door and walked to your car, not sparing him a glance as you pulled out of the driveway.
________
You didn’t really believe in hate. You never believed that hating someone would benefit you. It was just intoxicating yourself to the point where you think more about the person you hate than they think about you. You found the whole thing pointless. Luke Maybank, however, was an exception. You hated that man with all your heart. Having witnessed all the pain he had caused to the man you loved most in the world. So when you walked into the small market by your neighborhood, your eyes immediately located Luke. He was standing in front of the alcohol isle, browsing through the different kinds with his eyes. His eyes, that were red from whatever drug he took this time. Unfortunately for you, you needed milk, which was right by the end of that isle. So, instead of going straight you turned right and made a detour to get to the fridge. You opened the glass door and sighed as the coolness seeping from the fridge, which was the total opposite of the weather outside. You picked up one gallon of milk and put it in your basket.
“Y/N L/N, there’s a girl I thought I’ll never see again.”
You heard a hoarse voice from behind you, sending chills down your spine as you immediately recognized it to be Luke’s. You slowly turned around, having no intention of starting a conversation with the man.
“What do you want?” You asked sharply, sending him a glare.
“Well, aren’t you a feisty one?” He said with a smirk, and you felt nauseous just by looking at him.
You moved to walked past him but he was quick to grab your arm, pulling you back.
“Where are you going? I need to ask you something about that little shit.”
You rolled your eyes.
“First let me go or I’ll scream.” You threatened, but the only response you got was a chuckle.
“Where is JJ? He hasn’t been home in a few days.”
You shuddered at the thought of him ever reaching JJ and very much possibly putting his hands on him.
“I don’t know, and even if I did why would I tell you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a shitty excuse of a father, Luke. Or moreover, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t deserve to have JJ as your son because all you do is hurt him. So no, I’m not going to tell you where he is.” You pulled your arm out of his strong grip and pushed past him, leaving him behind as you quickly paid for your things and walked out of there to your car, desperate to get as far away from him as possible.
You prayers weren’t answered, as Luke opened the passenger door and got inside the car. You heart started beating fast and you gasped as you saw a gun in his hand - aimed at you.
“You think you can just talk to me like that and I’ll let it happen? Who do you think I am? Some bitch like your little boyfriend?!” He raised his voice, pressing the gun to your stomach.
“Luke, this is ridiculous. Just get out of the car and I’ll leave, I promise.” You said, trying not to let your fear show.
“No, I got a better idea.” With his free hand, he put the car in drive, forcing you to press on the breaks. “You and I are gonna take a little trip back to my place, and there we’re gonna wait for JJ to come back. I bet he’ll run straight home once he found out you’re with me.”
“Okay,” you said, handing gripping the wheel tightly to prevent your hand from shaking, “I’ll go there, just put down the gun, please.”
“Why, so you could do whatever you want? Nah, this gun stays on you until you’re sitting on my couch in my living room.” He said and pressed the gun even harder against your side, making you clench your jaw. “Now drive, bitch.”
Your drive slowly, trying to stall as much as you could but he quickly noticed and aimed the gun to your head to make you speed up. You have never been more terrified in your life. This was your longest interaction with Luke, and you had no idea what he was capable of, especially under the influence.
After you parked the car in the driveway Luke got out of the car and walked to your side, opening the door and pulling you out of the car. He dragged you up the stairs and opened the front door, pushing you inside the house. You fell onto the floor, trying to get up but he kicked you, pressing his boot down on your back, making you yell out in pain.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?!” He yelled. He then grabbed you from your hair and pulled you to the couch. “Now, you’re gonna sit there and shut up.”
He walked over to the kitchen counter, opening the cupboard and pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey. He poured some into a glass and then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?”
You shook your head, refusing to talk to him.
“Hey, use you goddamn words.” He said sternly, grabbing two glasses from the counter and walking over to you. “You’re almost as bad as JJ.”
As much as you wanted to shut up and not make him even angrier, you had to control your own anger. Because nothing made you angrier than the man that was sitting next to you.
“Here,” he said and handed you a glass of whiskey, “be a good girl and drink.”
“I don’t want to.” You said calmly.
“Well, I didn’t quite ask you. And when I did you didn’t answer.”
You swallowed thickly before taking a small sip from the glass, feeling the burning sensation down your throat.
“That a girl. You know, I will never understand what you see in that boy.” He said and took a sip of his own beverage.
“Maybe that’s ‘cause you spend all your time with him beating him.”
You knew you shouldn’t have said anything the moment he grabbed your neck, but it was too late.
“What did you say to me?!” He asked and tightened his grip on your throat.
“What? That a surprise to you? I saw your knuckles, it’s no secret that you’re an abusive asshole.” You said, voice straining as he choked you.
“Fucking bitch.” He muttered before pushing you down go the floor, the glass falling from your hand and shattering into the wooden floor. He turned you around, and before you could comprehend what was happening he sent a punch to your jaw.
“You don’t talk to me like that, understand?!” He yelled before dragging you up and slamming your body against the wall. “There will be a price to pay.”
The sent another punch to your stomach and you bent forward from the pain, all the air leaving your body.
“Pathetic slut, can’t even take some beatin’.”
His words fueled you and you finally found the power to fight back. You used all your momentum to push him away from you, and then you tried running for the door. But he was too quick and you were too slow. He grabbed you hair and spun you to face him, his face inches from yours.
“You think you can just run away? Well then let me tell you something. You ain’t leavin’ til my son gets here. And when he does I’ll let you go, but he stays here.” He was gripping your face with his hand, making you wince as his nails dug into your skin.
“Why? So you could hit him a little more? You’re just a sad, lonely man who takes his pain out on his son - the only person he has left.” You snapped. “You think I’m pathetic? Just look at your own life, man.”
He laughed, another hand now gripping in by you hair, pulling your face closer to his. “You’re gonna regret that.”
His psychotic smile was the last thing you saw before her dropped you to the floor, slamming your head against the coffee table.
You work up at the sound of glass shuttering and yelling. You sat up, your hand going to the cut you had on the side of your forehead. You winced at the headache, looking down at your hand and seeing blood on it. You looked around the room and figured you were in JJ’s room, on the bed.
“You fucking no-good piece of shit.”
You heard from outside the room. You stood up, leaning on the wall to not fall down from the dizziness that flooded your head. You slowly walked towards the door and opened it, the noises getting louder. You peeked down the hallway, and almost gasped at the sight of JJ pinned down to the floor, Luke above him, delivering punch after punch. You started walking towards them as quietly as you could, picking up a beer bottle from the kitchen and slamming it onto Luke’s head. He stopped his punching, and you took it as an opportunity to push him off JJ. You crouched down next to him, cupping his face in your hands.
“JJ, are you okay?”
He looked at you in utter surprise, clearly not expecting you to be there.
“Y-Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?!” He asked in a panicked voice.
“Long story. Come on, we need to leave.” You said and tried to pull him up with you, but he stopped you. “JJ, come on, we need to-“
You were cut off by two arms pulling you away from JJ and pushing you against the wall.
“No!” JJ yelled, trying to stand up. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
Luke didn’t listen to him and turned to you.
“Well, look who’s awake.” He said with a smile.
“Fuck you.” You spat, trying to get loose of his grip.
“You have a really dirty mouth, sweetheart. Time to clean it up, don’t you think?”
Before you could object he was already punching you, blood running down from your nose. He raised his hand to deliver another one but JJ caught it.
“Let her go.” He said through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck off her or I’ll fucking kill you.”
He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and choked him. You took the opportunity the slid away from his arms. You ducked down and picked up a big piece of glass from the floor and pressed it against Luke’s throat.
“You let us both go, right now.” You demanded, but he only laughed.
“I don’t think you have the guts to kill me, baby girl.”
From behind him, JJ squeezed his throat harder. “Don’t even fucking talk to her.”
He dropped him to the floor and slammed another beer bottle to his head, knocking him out cold. He turned to you, the glass was still in your shaking hand and your face was frozen. He walked to you and took the glass out of your grip, discarding it to the floor. He pulled you into him, whispering ‘you’re okay’ over and over again and you were pretty sure those words were meant for himself. He pulled away and grabbed your hand.
“Let’s go, we can talk about this at the Chateau.”
You both walked out of the house and to your car. You let him drive to John B’s place, knowing you couldn’t drive at the moment. You were both silent the whole drive, however a hand on your thigh kept you calm. He parked the car, but made no move to get out. Instead, he moved his gaze to you. Your gaze was focused on the Chateau rather than on him, hand fiddling in your lap.
“Y/N…” he said quietly, hesitation clear in his voice. “Let’s get you inside so I can take care of you, okay?”
You knew it wasn’t what he wanted to say, your current state was probably the reason he changed his words. You nodded your head, opening the door and getting out of the car. He was by our side after only a second, wrapping his arm around you and telling you that you could lean on him if you needed. As you made your way inside the Chateau, the pain in your stomach and all the other places Luke hit you started to hurt more and more. JJ opened the screen door, stepping aside the let you walk in first. You saw John B sitting on the couch, a questioning look on his face as he saw your face. You didn’t pay him any mind and just kept walking towards the bathroom, JJ right behind you. You sat on top of the counter and waited silently as JJ began taking care of your cuts.
“I know it’s usually you who’s in this position, so I just hope I’ll do a good job.” He tried to joke with half a smile, but you didn’t respond.
He sighed. “Look, Y/N, I know you probably don’t want to talk about this but, baby, I need to know what happened. You had me so fucking worried when I saw you there.”
You took in a breath, trying to find the words to describe what happened.
“I was at the supermarket, and he was there. I tried to avoid him but he saw me anyway. He started talking to me and he mentioned you and I just-“ you paused, running your hand through your hair. “I just couldn’t let him. I got so mad, J. I told him that he was a piece of shut and walked out of there. I got inside the car and he got in after me, a gun pulled out and aimed at me.”
“Fuck.” He cursed, dropping his head low. He couldn’t believe his father did that to you - that he dared aiming a gun at you.
“He told me to drive to your house so I did, and there he told me to sit on the couch. He offered me a drink and told me to ‘be a good girl and drink’.” You quoted, noting how JJ’s face stayed still, jaw clenching in anger and eyes fixed on the wall behind you. “I drank. And then he started talking about you again and how he didn’t see what I saw in you. I muttered some response and then he- well, started hitting me. Then he banged my head against the coffee table and I passed out.”
JJ stepped away from you, running his hands through his hair and down his face, leaning on the opposite wall. He cursed quietly before leaning back and punching the wall.
“JJ.” You tried, but he paid no mind, throwing another punch to the wall. “JJ, stop, you’re just gonna hurt yourself.” You raised your voice a little, standing up and pulling him towards you. His eyes were filled with tears, reflecting the anger behind them. “Calm down, please.”
“I can’t, I can’t, Y/N. I can’t just calm down when I know what he did to you. I’m gonna fucking kill him for even touching you.”
He tried to pull away again but you didn’t let him, cupping his face to make him look at you. “JJ, I’m okay, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me that bad.”
“But he hurt you. He hurt you and he knew how much you fucking mean to me. I can’t just let that go.” He explained, cupping your head, looking at you like you were his life. “I can’t deal with the thought of him hurting you.”
“I know, trust me I know.”
You actually did know. You knew exactly how he felt because you felt the exact same thing whenever you saw the damage Luke did. You felt the same anger and the same urge to kill him for even touching him. But you couldn’t let him spiral out of control - not now.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He said, placing a kiss to your cheek. “And I’m so fucking sorry for what I said to you. I had no right to tell you those things. Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“I know, J. It’s okay, I forgive you. And I love you, too.”
You rose to your tiptoes and kissed him gently. He grabbed your waist and deepened the kiss, running his tongue against yours. You hummed in delight, running your fingers through his soft hair. You were truly lucky to have found someone that you truly love, and that he truly loved you.
“It’s all good now, J.”
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lily-fics-11 · 17 days
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The Girl Next Door: Chapter 5 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)
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Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)
The Girl Next Door
You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes
Chapter 5
Now that you are an official member of the fight club Hazel is ready to teach you everything she knows.
Word count: 4.2k
CW: Profanities. Canon level violence. Car almost crashing. Mention of a bomb.
“You better not kill me Callahan!” The warning comes with a playful smirk as Hazel backs out of her driveway. 
“I swear I’m a good driver!” she laughs. That turned out to be an enormous lie. Hazel nearly gave you a concussion after slamming on the brakes as a yellow light turned red. You could have sworn she almost missed the red because she was looking over at you. But that is the type of wishful thinking that causes trouble. You see her wearing your initial on her wrist and you shake your head, reminding yourself that it doesn’t mean the same thing to her that it does to you.
In all honesty, flirting with death doesn’t sound so bad when sitting next to Hazel and dreaming about flirting with her. 
“I’m not going to let PJ get away with what she pulled yesterday.” Hearing that tugs at your heartstrings. The girl you love being protective? What more could you want?
Without thinking, you put your hand on her thigh when you tell her that she shouldn’t give PJ the satisfaction. Hazel looks over at you, her jaw dropping. You quickly pull your hand away. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…” as you look away to avoid eye contact you realize that there is a stop sign that Hazel does not seem to be aware of. “Hazel the road!” You yell at her in a panic and she slams on the brakes just in time to avoid driving right into a busy intersection. 
She looks over at you, afraid and ready to apologize. But it is just so damn cute and endearing that you start laughing. Her face goes from flustered to concerned. “I literally almost killed you!”
That makes you laugh even more. “What’s a few more bruises? Just drive, Hazel.” She regrips the steering wheel, her knuckles turning  white, proceeding with great caution. 
“I meant what I said about PJ. She’s not worth your time. There are more important things for you to focus on.” You tell Hazel before taking a sip of your coffee.
“Yeah, like you.”
Your heart stops for a second and you nearly spit out your coffee. “Like me!?” You exclaim, completely bewildered.
“I didn’t mean it like- it's just that- the thing about us is…” Hazel trails off for a moment like she has lost her train of thought. She takes a deep breath before continuing on. “I’m the one who introduced you to the club. It’s only fair that I fight you like I said I would. You’re a little behind, but I’ll teach you everything I know.”
“That sounds great Hazel, thank you.”
The rest of the car ride is awkwardly silent. Hazel is a yapper so that doesn’t bode well. Is she already regretting this? After arriving at school the two of you say “see you later” and part ways. 
___________________________
The school day drags on, monotonously and endlessly. Missing Hazel increases exponentially as time passes. The hope that she still wants anything to do with you is the complete opposite. As the hours pass you convince yourself that you’ve royally fucked up. 
Nerves have been building up all day, so when you get to the gym after school you are relieved to see that Hazel is once again talking to Josie and PJ. Hazel is glaring at PJ and she is glaring back, the conversation clearly heated. Josie is looking back and forth between the two like she wants to intervene but doesn’t know how. 
It’s not long before PJ yells “lets get a move on cuntskillets!” Hazel is unfortunately on the opposite side of the gym from you, leaving you unable to get close to her. Instead of stepping into the center like she did yesterday, PJ stands alongside everyone else and says “alright, how about Hazel?” PJ’s eyes scan the group for a moment before landing on you. “Get out there princess!” she orders.
You and Hazel step forwards but keep your distance. Based on your observations of Hazel’s other fights, she seems to be much more calculated then everyone else. She uses moves that seem to be some sort of martial arts, whereas the rest of the girls just start shoving and throwing punches. Unsure of whether or not to make the first move, the two of you begin to circle each other. Hazel seems a little hesitant so it only makes sense to take the offensive position. Without wasting any time you charge forwards. Before making contact as intended, she swiftly turns out of the way and you stumble to the ground to avoid knocking anyone down with the momentum. Expecting Hazel to take advantage of your tumble, you twist up and around as fast as possible. Having said that, she is still choosing to leave a fair amount of space between you. You opt for a slower approach this time, but she flawlessly dodges the punch thrown her way once she is within reach.
After locking in Hazel’s gaze you smirk and roll your eyes. “Defense Callahan? Really?” Her lips part like she is about to say something but she hesitates before sighing. “You don’t know what you are doing, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
Hazel shakes her head. “You need to learn what you are doing first.”
“Then give me a lesson, Haze. I’m a hands-on learner.” The taunt is paired with a wink. Adrenaline is fueling unprecedented confidence.
That earns you a smug look from Hazel. Her eyes are trained on yours when she gives in. “Fine. But I’m not going for your face. Unlike PJ, I know how to treat a pretty girl.” Before you can even process what she has said you are stumbling backwards after taking a jump kick to the chest. You smile, too focused on Hazel to be phased by the pain. She’s true to her word, not going anywhere near your face. All the same, she low key beats the shit out of you. Enjoying every second of it feels wrong. The euphoria is afflicting, but seeing her like this is invigorating. Fighting Hazel only makes you want her more. 
She delivers a punch to the gut followed by a roundhouse kick. Allowing no time for regained footing, Hazel sends you crashing to the ground with a swift leg sweep. Back flat against the ground, Hazel looms over you, straddling your hips. You try to sit up, hands reaching forwards, in an attempt to push Hazel off. But she catches your hands in hers and laces her fingers through yours. She lunges forwards, slamming you into the ground, arms pinned down above your head. A competitive drive is the only thing keeping your thoughts from wandering suggestively. You squirm around and try to break free, but Hazel’s grip is firm and she is a lot stronger than she looks. If you simply tilted your head up your lips would meet hers. You hold your breath and close your eyes, fighting the urge to steal a kiss. When Hazel whispers “so how did I do?” your eyes shoot open, face burning red
“I’m not quite sure I’ve got the hang of this yet,” you murmur. “We should probably do this again sometime.” You long for that moment to last but Hazel pulls away with a cheeky grin. She gets up before helping you to your feet and shaking your hand. There is a dizziness that could be from your head hitting the ground so hard or the inability to come to terms with the feelings brought on by this.
You make it through another fight somewhat successfully. Being matched up with Isabel was more of a level playing field. Sure she has more experience, but she somewhat lacks strength and confidence. The lighthearted nature of wrestling with your close friend was very helpful in taking the edge off after the more intense fight with Hazel. It was all giggles and smiles with Isabel. As much fun as it was, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Hazel. Her watchful gaze was both unnerving and exciting.
Even after cooling down from the second fight your heart was racing thinking about the drive home. This morning had been confusing. It was awkward. But you two had still had a moment. And the fight? It was intense, intimate, and in all honesty, a bit of a mind fuck. You can’t believe how bold you had been or that Hazel had matched your energy. For you the tension had been palpable. Had it been the same for her? For everyone else in the room?
When the meeting is over you scramble to get your things and busy yourself by joking with Isabel about your fight. The distraction is enough to allow a few laughs, but also for you to nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand on the small of your back. Your head snaps around to be met with a concerned look on Hazel’s face. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m so sorry!” She quickly removes her hand and steps away. The loss of contact leaves behind an empty feeling, the yearning to be near her only getting worse.
After saying goodbye you head out with Hazel. She starts talking about how much she is enjoying watching everyone improve and that she is hopeful these girls actually stand a chance at defending themselves if they need to. Although getting the gist of what she is saying, the details are jumbled around, the overwhelming emotions an unavoidable distraction. You slowly start to zone out, unaware and out of it until Hazel asks “are you ok?” after getting into her car.
You shake your head and blink rapidly in an attempt to get grounded back into reality. Without looking over at her you make the excuse. “I’m just feeling a bit dizzy, that's all.” Fortunately you are a much better liar than your neighbor, though you hate giving her anything but the truth. However, these are extenuating circumstances. 
Hazel gasps loudly. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you so hard.”
“That's not it, it's just that you um… you don’t need to apologize. It's all in my…” you stop and clear your throat, giving you enough time to shift your thoughts. Despite the apprehension you turn towards her so that she believes it when you assure her “I was the one who told you not to hold back. Don't worry about it Haze. If anything I should be thanking you, for presenting me with a challenge and politely avoiding my face.”
She bites her lip. “Remember what I said though. Even getting beat up can’t make a difference on a face like yours. But I’m still really sorry.”
You neglect to acknowledge most of what she just said in fear of taking it the wrong way. “Did you know you apologize a lot?”
Hazel takes a deep breath and covers her face with her hands. “I apologize so much because I feel like no matter how many times I say I’m sorry it will never be enough. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for hurting you.”
“Hey, Haze, look at me.” She uncovers her face and there are tears in her hurt, puppy dog eyes.
“I forgive you, I really do. And you said you would make it up to me right? All I want is for things to go back to the way they were.” Thinking about that makes your heart hurt. It’s not your true desire, but it’s the best that you are going to get. She nods her head. “I just want… yeah, that's what I want too.”
“Just be mine,” you nearly choke on the air in your lungs after realizing what just slipped out. You quickly try to recover. “Just be my best friend again.”
“I’ll be whatever you need me to be.” Every last breath gets sucked out of your chest. If only Hazel knew how you really felt, she would show some mercy and be more careful with her words. She would pity you, but spare you any extra heartache. After regaining your composure you tell her “we should get going, I need to ice my whole body.” 
You twiddle your thumbs, afraid of saying the wrong thing. You fear hearing more words that could be romanticized or mean something completely different for you than it does for her. After mustering up the courage, you change the subject.
“You know you actually seem to know what you are doing. When you're fighting. Where did you learn all those moves?” You inquire with genuine curiosity.
“Well I did tae kwon do for a little while but also Mortal Kombat.” Hazel explains.
“What’s Mortal Kombat?”
“It’s a video game.”
You chuckle. “Makes sense why I don’t know it. My gaming knowledge doesn’t go any further than the Sims.”
Hazel bites at her nails. “I play Mortal Kombat all the time. Do you have any plans Friday night? You can come over and we can play it. If you aren’t busy. And only if you want to.”
Your face lights up. “Friday? I'm free friday.”
—————————
The next few days go well. School work wasn’t too bad, no discernable drama, and more time spent with Hazel. You savor every moment with her, all of the car rides and getting up close and personal while fighting. Pinning each other to the ground is always the best part of your day. It is a little odd that all of your fights end that way, but you wouldn’t dare complain. 
On Friday when you get to Hazel’s house Mrs. Callahan is sitting in the room off the foyer. “Is that who I think it is?” she calls, getting up to greet you. “Hazel told me you two were friends again but I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe it.”
“Mom!” Hazel groans. Mrs. Callahan puts her hands on her hips. “What honey? Can you blame me? It’s been years!”
“We are leaving now.” Hazel tells her sternly and grabs your arm to pull you away.
When you get to Hazel’s room you guys get settled. Hazel sits in her gaming chair and you get comfortable in a bean bag. She passes you a PS5 controller. “I’m assuming you don’t know how to use this?” 
“That would be correct.” She angles her own controller towards you and starts pointing to the different buttons. There are some arrows and shapes? It is really hard to pay attention to what she is saying when you are looking at her hands. The silver rings on her fingers. How she effortlessly maneuvers different combos that mean nothing to you, but definitely get your heart racing. You don’t snap out of your daze until Hazel prompts you. “Think you've got it?”
You couldn’t repeat back a single thing she said but couldn’t tell her that. There was no world in which you clued her in on what had been distracting you, and even if she went over it all again the same thing would happen. “Yeah of course!” you lie with an enthusiastic nod.
Hazel loads up the game and a selection of characters come up. “Which one do you play as?” You inquire.
“I like to switch it up,” she explains. “Everyone has different special moves and I like getting to use them all. I haven’t played as Johnny Cage in a while so I think I’ll go with him this time.”
You scan the list of characters and declare “Sonya Blade looks like a baddie I’m playing as her.”
Hazel laughs. “What?” You question a little defensively. “Was that a bad choice? Should I pick someone else?”
“No, no. It’s just funny that you picked Sonya when I’m playing as Johnny. They were married and then got divorced. But they still love each other.” You are silent for a moment after hearing that. You had Hazel, only to a certain extent of course, but then you didn’t. You strayed away from loving her, but never too far.
“What a coincidence.” Your fake laugh is feeble at best. “I’m ready though, we can start the game.” After the game begins you start hitting random buttons, a futile effort. Hazel won rather quickly. She giggles. “I thought you said you were ready?” You roll your eyes with a smile. “I just need some practice, that's all. Start another round!” You demand playfully because you literally do not even know how to start a new round.
A seemingly endless cycle begins. Hazel beats you game after game with little to no effort. She eventually catches on that you might not have been getting everything she had explained earlier. You can only pray she doesn’t figure out why. “It seems like you didn’t get what I taught you before. But you said you are a hands-on learner right? Move over.” You abruptly attempt to shift over as far as you can while the bean bag chair is caving in. After failing to get very far Hazel plops down next to you. The two of you sink further into the middle, pressed up against each other. As much as you always hope to be this close to Hazel, you never actually know what to do when that fantasy becomes a reality. She sighs. “You aren’t even holding the controller right.” She reaches one arm around you and moves your hands into the correct position. This was definitely not how you imagined this evening going but you will be eternally grateful for the divine intervention. Hazel goes over the basics once again and then moves into the combos, guiding your hands into place for each one. 
After going over everything again Hazel takes her arm back from around you. It feels wrong, like you belong in her arms, but you push that thought out of your mind. She puts both of her hands in her lap. Looking down, she fiddles with her rings. Hazel clears her throat and you look over to her and temporarily lose yourself. You desperately search her beautiful blue eyes for something, anything, that might indicate she wants you that way that you want her. But she looks uncomfortable, and even a little nervous. Your hopes and dreams are like waves, rising up only to crash back down, over and over again. Hazel’s lips are so close to yours. It would only take a small slip to bridge the gap between them. “Do you want to try another round?” She asks. “I won’t play, I'll just talk you through it.”
“Um yeah. Let’s try that.”
Over the next couple of games you actually start to get the hang of it, with Hazel’s help of course. Eventually you don’t even need any tips or reminders. After you really think you’ve got it, you announce “alright, I’m ready to beat you now.”
“If you say so,” Hazel laughs and gets up, leaving you regretting your decision, wishing you had played stupid. Damn your competitive nature. Especially because you played for another hour and didn’t even win a single time. Stupid. Stupid! Your ego is hurting when you groan, “ok, I surrender. I can’t do this anymore.” That leaves Hazel looking very smug and amused. “It’s basically dinner time anyway. Is there any chance you would want to, um, stay for that? We could order a pizza or something. Or we could get whatever you want. If you want to stay.” She looks down at the floor before you can answer,
You can’t help the blushing smile on your face. “Pizza sounds great.”
“Really?” she looks back up at you, her posture straightening up.
“Yeah! We could watch a movie or start a tv show,” you suggest with a shy smile.
Hazel blinks rapidly in disbelief. “You would want to start watching a show? With me?”
“Yeah, that way you have a reason to keep hanging out with me,” you tease her
A knowing smile spreads across Hazel’s face. “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
“You say that now,” you begin, voice shaking before pulling yourself together to continue. “Just wait until I’m beating you up in fight club and in Mortal Kombat.”
“That's never going to happen. But I guess that means I’ll never have to lose you again.” Her words hit like a freight train that either came at the best or worst time, you aren’t sure which one.
You bite your lip. “You’re cheesier than this pizza is going to be Callahan. Keep it up though. I’ve missed it.”
Hazel looks away and scratches the back of her head. “Anything for you.” As hesitant as you are to believe her, there is no stopping your heart from nearly exploding.
Hazel orders the pizza and you guys stay hanging out where you were. Until the pizza arrives. 
She puts it on her bed and gets comfortable. There is no point in denying that you’ve imagined this moment, ending up in Hazel’s bed, in your wildest dreams. But the reality of this is terrifying. It’s like reaching out for something but never actually being able to grab it. You are filled to the brim with anxiety when sitting down on the opposite side of the bed, at the very edge. Hazel is lounging comfortably but you are sitting with your knees tucked into your chest, arms wrapped around them to try and provide a sense of security. You are looking at the tv when your hand reaches into the pizza box, only to accidentally graze Hazel’s hand. You don’t even dare look over at her, just at the box, so that you can see when it’s safe to reach over again. 
As time and episodes go on you start to relax. Instead of sitting as far away from Hazel as possible, in a state of disarray, you find yourself sitting with more ease in a spot that doesn’t come with the risk of falling onto the floor. 
Once you are done eating Hazel leaves to put the leftover pizza away. While she’s gone your eyes wander around the room. All the old pictures are still up on the wall, and she has hung up the picture the two of you took the other day. She’s got quite a few completed Lego sets on display. There’s a basket of yarn in the corner, Hazel has always liked to crochet. An extensive collection of trinkets is scattered throughout the room. Movie and video game posters are plastered on the walls. There is something small, with wires sticking out of it, sitting in the middle of her desk. It looks almost like a… bomb? You don’t give it much thought. This is Hazel Callahan: certified sweetheart. She would never do anything to hurt anyone. Well, unless they deserved it.
When Hazel comes back into her room and crawls back into bed she sits much closer than anticipated. Close enough to lean your head on her shoulder and for her to put her arm around you. No matter how badly you want that you can’t let yourself get any closer. Being close and cuddling had always been normal for your guys but that was before you realized you were in love with the girl next door. But your neighbor did sit close to you, and it’s nice to see that she is comfortable with you once again. However, it would only cause agony if the two of you were doing the same thing with completely different intentions. You watch the show, laughing, talking, and overall having the best time, though painfully aware of what you are missing out on. Time does funny things when you’re with Hazel, so when you get a text and see that it’s midnight it makes a ton of sense, but also none at all. It’s a text from your mom. “Are you staying over at Hazel’s?” 
Your face turns bright red. You were most definitely not going to spend the night with Hazel. The two of you are used to sleeping in the same bed but that was then and this is now. Wanting to sleep on the floor or in the guest room could raise suspicion. You clear your throat. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s already midnight. I should probably get going.”
Hazel looks over at you and seems a little disappointed. It pains you to see that look on her face. Unfortunately, you have learned the hard way that you need to protect your feelings before those of other people. She gives you a hug and you pull away rather quickly and get up a little awkwardly. Hazel’s dissatisfaction is evident. “I guess I won’t see you until Monday. Is it ok if I text you before then?” She asks hesitantly. You smile at her. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” 
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eepyuii · 5 months
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frostbite — pt. 1
pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader
content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish
cw ; some swearing, mentions of wounds & medical stuff, dottore warning (?) he doesn’t exactly do anything but y’know- it’s dottore, sort of proofread
note ; i am so scared, i’ve never posted anything like this on tumblr or at all LMFAO this is my first fic ever and very self indulgent. ive already posted 5 chapters of this on ao3 but i was curious as to how the tumblr ajax kissers would react to it. im sorry if this sort of info tab isn’t very descriptive, im just basing it off what i’ve seen from the viewer’s perspective.
ALSO, for context- tetya= aunt and dyadya= uncle in russian!
constructive criticism is appreciated!
next part | masterlist
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“hey, watch your step! snow’s gotten harder and slippier these days…”
“yes, sir!”
“yes, father!”
just as the warning rings out, it’s followed by the dry crunch of heavy boots against snow. it’s not the same soft sound as it was a month or so ago, rather it sounds almost as if the ice gnashes aggressively at the leather boots.
it gnaws at your ears painfully, though you’ve been sensitive to such sounds for as long as you could remember, yet you still flinch.
ajax notices right away. he always does.
“here,” he goes, the cloud of his warm breath visible. turning your head toward the boy, you see that he’s handing you his earmuffs.
a sheepish grin invades your lips as you wordlessly take him up on his offer. mind rid of the god awful crush of the snow, you come up with a brilliant idea.
“last one there’s a rotten catch!” you charge onwards with a laugh.
“ah, n-not again!”
ajax’s father only watches from behind as his son hurries to catch up, a defeated sigh leaves him. “these kids…”
said kids were already reaching the lake clearing at that point. the frozen water already has its own layer of fresh-fallen snow, making it seem like an entire new tundra- that is, until you and ajax brashly create footmarks and snow angels on the surface while his father is still yet to catch up. if he’d been closer you would’ve heard the old man’s grumbles about having to carry all the fishing gear.
thankfully, there were no rotten catches that day.
your best friend’s laughter and your very own echo in your head like bells in an empty chapel, uninvitedly. the entire memory is instead invited by the sight of a father on the street with his own children, he carries a bucket and fishing rods as the youngins run ahead excitedly. you conclude that you should’ve left for zapolyarny palace earlier today.
this morning cannot start off on a bad note, not when the doctor had meticulously scheduled an operation for this very day with your presence prerequisited.
you’re acutely aware of this.
you’re still acutely aware of this when you slam your work bag onto the desk with such force that even the fatui guard monitoring the palace hallway jumps.
and you’re still acutely aware of this when you almost bump into one of your boss’s segments on your way to the operation room, a most certain death that would be if you did bump into him. even as you break your stress fueled stride, the segment blocks the path forward.
“if i didn’t know any better, i would assume this is your first day on your first job. ever.”
you furrow your eyebrows confusedly while the segment coldly scrutinizes you top to bottom.
“even the lowliest of fatui recruits know that the first thing one should do after clocking in is get into the proper uniform.” he indicates with a snark in his tone.
ah- your lab coat.
“yes sir. my apologies.” with a haste in your step previously thought impossible to achieve without actually sprinting, you beeline straight to your office, which is conveniently on the other side of a very long hallway from the operation room. so long, in fact, that it gives enough time for a certain someone to slink into the office room without you even seeing it.
you don’t notice him even as you’re already inside the room. well, how could you with such tunnel vision, powered by your early-morning frustration and innate fear of disappointing the doctor. you’re practically out the door with lab coat in hand when he finally quips.
“uhm, doc?” the voice is shaky but still impossible to not recognize.
god dammit.
the tsaritsa was truly not on your side today. with a deep inhale, you do your best to keep a neutral expression as you turn around to face the head of red hair that haunts your dreams. or rather nightmares.
“how may i help you, lord tartaglia?” you still hated that title.
“well heh… this is the head nurse’s office, i believe you can help me by exerting the very function of this room?” the harbinger puts on a friendly front, acting like he can’t feel your burning glare. within it, you start to gauge at what’s brought him here, few surface-level scratches and even fewer cuts that are ever so slightly deeper present on him.
“i’m afraid i’m running late for an important appointment with the doctor, you’ll have to ask one of my subordinates.” you state matter-of-factly and start turning to leave again.
“w-wait, please!” he reaches out to stop you and the hand lands on your bicep, rather than your wrist which would’ve been a quicker latch. huh. “let me talk to him afterwards, he’ll understand. plus, i’m your boss as much as he is.”
“you’re quite literally not.”
“yeah, i’m not. still your boss though.”
childe is not of as high authority over you as the doctor is, afterall you’re one of the doctor’s assigned assistants, but the way he talks so casually and… playfully makes him seem even less bossy. but you don’t allow yourself anymore time to dwell on it, instead you roll your eyes and give in. your boss almost giddily sits on the examination bed.
the sterilized silk gloves slide snugly onto your palms as you look your patient up and down.
“how did you even manage to get yourself roughed up so early in the morning?”
“it’s never too early in the morning for a spar! though- hah… even i didn’t expect to take this many free hits.”
“who were you sparring?”
“eh, some junior lieutenants at the northwest wing. there were some new recruits there too so i figured i’d set an example for ‘em.”
northwest wing..? you visibly pause at the revelation.“that’s… on the other side of zapolyarny palace.”
“so?”
“so there’s nurses there too.”
childe himself seems to pause then- you were catching onto him. he realizes he must think about his next actions as carefully as humanly possible.
“ahah… a-are there?”
good one, ajax.
you look down at the alcohol-soaked cotton ball sitting snugly between your tweezers and then up to a scratch right above childe’s eyebrow- seems like the perfect time to treat your patient. the sting comes before the harbinger can even react and much to his dismay, you keep the cotton ball on his forehead even as attempts to lean away from it.
“childe tartaglia,” you start, voice menacing and low. “did you orchestrate a sparring session with low-rank officers and get yourself injured on purpose to come see me?”
“a-ah ouch!” childe hisses. “surely you w-wouldn’t commit medical malpractice over something as trivial as this?” clearly he forgets who you work for, or pretends to at least.
“start talking.”
“okay, okay! yes, i did all that…” the red head sulks with a defeated sigh. pleased by the confession, you move away with your alcohol cotton ball of doom and give him space.
you watch the tsaritsa’s weapon of war crumple into himself, looking off into a meaningless corner of the room.
“i… i’m being stationed to liyue tomorrow.” his voice is entirely different from what it was when this entire ordeal began- quiet, hesitant.
“and?” is your response before you can even think about how douchey it sounds. it’s already too late when you see childe deflate even more and feel like you just kicked a puppy.
“and i wanted to come and give you the news.”
really? that’s all he wanted from this?
“then why go through all this effort of sparring newbies at practically the ass crack of dawn and lose? why not just come here and tell me at once?”
he scoffs bitterly. “like you’d talk to me under normal circumstances.”
the regret you were feeling from your cruel response from earlier quickly bleeds out into incredulousness.
“you haven’t talked to me under normal circumstances since we were fourteen.” you stab back and childe bites his tongue, he won’t retaliate this time. the rest of the appointment is spent in the deadliest of silences as you finish tending to his “injuries”. neither of you ever look up to face the other.
you pack up quickly as to haul ass from the office room as soon as possible. but not before you mutter stoically- “have fun in liyue.”
and childe is left to sit pathetically on the bed and contemplate his astronomical failure.
what a wretched week.
the days seem to take a thousand years each to end, the laboratory feels stuffier, the people less tolerable and you swear the pen in your hand feels heavier than a lead ingot.
“are you done sulking?”
oh yeah, there’s also the ruthless fatui harbinger you work under and the equally insulting bajillion copies of him. you know bajillion is a gross overestimation but you also gave up keeping track of how many segments the doctor has a long time ago, they’re bossy all the same.
“not sulking, sir, just… thinking.”
“thinking about the medical records you’re supposed to be overseeing surely?” he taunts and you can only scoff non-committedly.
said medical records were mere reports on several of the doctor’s past experiments and operations, arguably not worth such a commitment of your time or worth a hackling from your boss. either way the words and paragraphs had merged into blurred lines and incomprehensible messes in your eyes about ten minutes ago, you were only pretending to be doing something at this point.
the irresistible force of your boredom drives your gaze to anywhere but the papers in front of you, eventually settling onto a corkboard hung up on a farther wall of the doctor’s laboratory. tired retinas struggle to focus on the blueprints that are stuck onto the corkboard but they seem to have rough sketchings of… body parts? they’re definitely not human, no, instead the drawings indicate they’re robotical. on another blueprint is an unfinished rendering of the full robot body. the shape language is unconventionally stylized, to a point where they almost resemble traditional inazuman patterns or even… the patterns on scaramouches robes-
“l-lord dottore!! i have an u-urgent matter sent by lord pierro himself.”
huh?
“out with it. quick.” the segment doesn’t even bother to face the stammering officer that had bursted through the door right then.
“u-uhm… some of our liyue informants have reported t-that rex lapis suddenly p-perished during the rite of descension,”
huh?
“rex lapis, dying? well,” he drawls amusedly. “that would certainly be a sight. but how exactly does this development concern me? is the banker not available?”
“w-well y-yes… lord pierro specifically requested for your word on the matter a-and perhaps see if one of your s-subordinates could… be on-site?”
dottore’s segment lets out an exasperated sigh while a gloved hand goes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “unfortunately it doesn’t surprise me that the collective surplus amount of agents we have stationed in liyue harbor proves to be utterly incompetent to the point where the jester himself would come to me for help.”
a feeling of dread settles in your chest as you try to digest the insane information you’ve been given-
rex lapis, the oldest of the seven archons of teyvat, is dead.
pierro, the head of the fatui harbingers, is requesting dottore to send one of his subordinates to investigate the scene.
that’s you, you’re dottore’s subordinate.
which means you’ll be sent to investigate an archon’s death. in liyue.
that’s where he is.
your head feels like it’ll explode any second now. the segment, ever so brilliantly clever like his prime version, seems to have the same idea as you and beams a sharp-toothed sadistic grin.
“why my assistant here does seem to be available, wouldn’t you say?” he turns a serpentine stare over to you.
“err… i don’t think i could leave my post here, sir, i am the head nurse after all-“
“nonsense, i doubt the bumbling idiots of this palace will find themselves into anything more troublesome than a papercut while you’re gone.”
oh the irony of hearing that after your… situation the other day. you huff defeatedly, standing up to start packing for your impromptu trip. the mysterious blueprints in the laboratory long forgotten.
morepesok hasn’t changed a bit since you left.
which, as much as you love your hometown, isn’t saying much- morepesok is as uneventful as it gets. in such a small seaside snezhnayan village, the only points of interest are the painfully traditional values of fishing and family.
the visit to your parents’ house is brief but comforting, some teary goodbyes and heartfelt words about how pleased and proud they are of what you’ve accomplished for yourself- achieving such a high position in the fatui ranks by merely helping people. you don’t even consider telling them about the doctor.
but what makes you feel worse is the visit to ajax’s family home. it’s like the house has been frozen in time, the place where you spent years of your childhood is intact and unchanged- except for some newer family pictures, of course.
teucer, tonia and anthon are the ones to greet you first, then ajax’s parents come along. huh… ajax. you hadn’t even noticed the switch your brain does whenever you’re back home. here, he’s ajax but in zapolyarny palace, he’s childe or tartaglia. but there’s no time to dig yourself a deeper hole in that topic because you’re presently being pampered like a very own daughter of the house by his parents.
“my dear, look at you! you look so grown and mature… have you been eating well?” his mother walks up to cup your cheeks with the most genuine parental love. she, like the rest of the environment, looks exactly as you remember her, with a few newer white strands betwixt her bright orange curls. well, remember is a strong word.
“tetya, it’s only been a few months since we’ve seen each other, i’m all the same.” you laugh and she reciprocates.
“yes yes, i know… and- oh! as a matter of fact, we saw ajax just this week, said he was being transferred to a northland bank all the way in liyue!”
and when you thought you could not feel shittier about this.
“it is a shame to have our ajax so far from home so suddenly but at least we still have you, dearest!” she grins, pinching your cheek with more vigor than you’ve seen apparent in fatui sergeants.
“hey!” the three younger siblings call out in unison.
“yeah, a-about that, tetya…” you start hesitantly. “i’m… also being transferred to liyue. there have been some unexpected developments and i’ll just be on field to check up on things.”
ajax’s mother huffs incredulously. “by the tsaritsa’s name! they must hate mothers over at that palace!” she shakes her head with disappointment. “speaking of which, have you gone to see your parents yet?” you only nod. “good good… well anyhow, are you in a hurry, dear? i could make you some hot chocolate and then you’re free to be on your way.”
how could you ever deny your tetya’s hot chocolate?
the rest of your stay in the household is spent chatting with the family and playing games with the younger kids, as well as drinking a cup of hot chocolate so delicious you almost cry. the afternoon is nearing its end when you’re walking out the door and teucer is bawling his eyes out at your departure, or maybe he’s just tuckered out.
“have a safe trip, kiddo.” ajax’s father pats you on the shoulder firmly.
“thanks, dyadya, i will.”
“oh! and take care of ajax, make sure he doesn’t get in over his head.” this time it’s tonia who pipes up and the rest of the family nods in agreement.
“bye bye, everyone!” you’re already at the house’s front fence, waving back as fiercely as you can.
the only thing you don’t notice is the knowing look that is shared between tonia and her mother when she mentions ajax.
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melody22222 · 9 months
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hi, how are you doing? If is not a bother can you make a yandere ex fuckboy x insecure reader, she is insecure of his past and the girls he used to stay with before they start dating and is terrified of him cheating on her, that bothers the yandere a lot and he goes to the extreme to prove to her that he doesn't want anyone else.
Unveiling Love
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Male Yandere x Insecure!Fem reader
A/n: I'M SO SO SO SO SORRY I SWEAR, I was suppose to post your request like a week ago but our WIFI was literally off for A WEEK. I was literally in a living nightmare. Oh my god... but I'm back, and I'll write every request- God, a whole week without WIFI...Just imagine... ugh need Patrick Bateman hands on my neck right now😔.
Word count: 3k
This is like a rip off of Zane's one shot I did, but you never know.... they could be friends, brothers, work friends, hell... (Maybe even Zane's partner in crime.)
---
You find yourself in the bathroom for the third time, splashing cold water on your face in an attempt to calm down. And each time you do it, you hope that the sensation will help ease your racing thoughts and bring a sense of tranquility.
You were worried, scared, anxious. You stepped out of the bathroom, eyeing the bedroom door with growing unease. Your head throbbed, thoughts swirling as fear consumed you.
It’s midnight and your boyfriend still hasn't come home yet. He told you he’s going to be late today which was unusual.
You flopped onto the bed, burying your face in the soft pillow and letting out a sigh. For the past 3 hours, all you did was overthink about your boyfriend, even though you knew he would be late. You couldn't help but worry, so you even called him.
‘Sweetheart, you know I’ll stay at the office till midnight, I’ve told you.’
‘I know, I’m just checking if you are…okay.’
You couldn’t stop thinking about his words. When you were on the call, you pushed the phone closer so you could maybe hear any background noises but there was nothing. That still didn’t reassure you. You were afraid that maybe…just maybe, he’s with someone. 
You’ve been with your boyfriend for almost a year now, everything seemed to be great until you asked him about his past, you were just…curious, that’s all…
When he told you he doesn’t know, that he slept with so many other women in the past that he lost count, your heart sank deep, very deep. Till that day, you slept every night, overthinking. It’s been killing you and you never told your boyfriend about it. You’d ask him questions here and there, but he doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual with you lately.
But you were grateful and truly happy to be with someone who loves and adores you…loves you a little too much. You were still in fear mode.
You laid on the right side of the bed, still thinking. You grab the plushie that was laying next to you, it was a plushie of your boyfriend. Your boyfriend gave it to you so whenever he’s away, you’ll just hug the mini version of him that he gave you. The same hair, the same eye color, the same fashion style. 
You wish that he was never away
You had enough. Your cries burst out of anger, you threw the plushie that you've been hugging for the past 10 minutes across the room.
‘Stupid, stupid. Stupid.’
Your cries slowly escalated, you buried your head on the pillow again. You just wanted all the pain to go away. You suddenly hear the door open fast, making you startle. You immediately knew who it was and quickly wiped your tears away. 
You didn’t want him to know you’ve been crying literally everywhere for god knows how long, the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, the foyer, to a point you couldn’t cry anymore.
“Darling, I’m home.” 
You heard a masculine voice announced. You turn to face him and cheerfully smile, hoping he doesn’t notice your red and sore eyes. You didn’t even hear the front door open, and all that because of your cries.
“Ezra, you’re home.” Still smiling, you’re so glad that he’s back.
Ezra places his brief case carefully on the floor and walks closer to you. He hovered on top of you and began to kiss you, making you giggle in the kiss. You placed your arms on his shoulders.
“God, I missed you so much, princess.” He says between the kiss, he breaks the kiss and goes to your cheek and jaw, planting small pecks.
“I missed you too.” There was still some raspiness in your voice when you spoke. Ezra backed his head a little so he could look at your face clearly.
His smile slowly disappears when he sees your sore eyes, “Why are your eyes so red, baby? Have you been crying?” He brushed his thumb against your eyes, making you deliberately blink.
‘Shit.’ You thought. You didn’t expect him to say that.
“Oh ummm, I- uhh, a lot of… a lot of sand went through my eyes like right now when I opened the balcony before you came, it’s so windy.” You awkwardly laughed, “I’m glad you are home.”
‘God, please let him change the subject. Please.’
Ezra stared at you down with a blunt stare, not convinced at whatever you just blabbered about, he knew something was up and that made you gulp nervously.
He seemed like he wanted to say something, you took the action on your own before he says something. “So, how was work? A lot of work tonight I see.” You said bubbly as if you weren’t just a crying mess a few moments ago.
“Work was great, and I assume everything is great as well with you and your new friend sand, who seems to like your eyes, a lot.” He said in a stern tone.
You knew at that moment that he already found out. You just simply gave him a soft smile and looked down at his chest, avoiding his stare.
“Hmmm…” Ezra hummed as he got off of you. He walks to the desk, opening one of the drawers. He takes out a…CD? You watch him place the CD on the old gramophone that was sitting on the desk. You heard an old 90s song ‘There! I’ve said it again’ By Vaughn Monroe playing in your ears.
“Ezra…what are you doing?” You awkwardly laughed again. He ignored your question and walked towards you again. He stares down at you and smiles. Out of nowhere, he grabs your hand and jerks you up, making you stand up. 
You give him a confused look but he doesn't say anything to your lost expression as he grabs your hand and places it on his shoulder then he puts his hand on your back. 
You both had 2 free hands, they waited for you both to hold them together. He took your hand as both of your free hands finally met, together. He moved his body slowly, he circled you across the room.
You giggled again, “Ezra, you know that I’m very, very terrible at dancing.”
“Shhh,” Ezra silenced you with a finger on your lips. “I got you.”
He turned elegantly with you, his body in tune with the slow music making you stomp on his expensive leather black shoes but he didn’t seem to mind. There was some sort of harshness on him that you couldn’t place your finger at, but you were too busy trying not to stomp him again. You couldn’t feel relaxed. 
The warmth between the two of you grew more powerful by the second. Your heartbeat was growing steadily along with it. You kept your gaze on his muscled chest, averting his strong gaze. Ezra was staring deep into your soul, but still kept a smile on his face.
“You know how much I love you, right?” You suddenly hear him say.
You nodded surely and let out a small, ‘mhm.’
The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking down to your stomach.
Ezra guided you across the room as if you were in a dream. He kept his eyes on you, yet still, he knew exactly where to take you. Every moment, every angle seemed to be planned in advanced
You still couldn’t keep up with him, you stomped him again. You looked up to him, meeting his strong gaze. “Sorry…” Mumbling, you gave him a clumsy smile.
“Let’s go to the balcony, I wanna get some of this wind too.” Ezra spoke.
Your eyes slightly widened, “Umm-”
Ezra didn’t let you continue as he strolled towards the balcony door, hand still around your back. He slowly opened it and led you outside. A gentle breeze of coldness hit your warm skin that made you relax a bit.
“Oh just feel that strong wind, making our hair fly.” He said in a sarcastic tone.
There was no strong wind, there was no sand going through our eyes. There was nothing, just the night sky that was brimming with bright stars and the moon.
The music was still playing from inside but it got muffled as Ezra closed the balcony door. You both stood on the railing, there was some silence but you thanked god that there was some music that interrupted the silence, even if it was muffled.
Ezra placed his arms on the railing, bending over a little. He looked up in the sky, mesmerized by the glowing stars.
“Look at the sand princess, hitting directly in my eyes. I think the sand also likes me too” Another sarcasm escaping from his lips.
You kept your eyes down like a child getting scolded by their mother.
He didn’t say anything afterwards. You turned your head slightly away from him, pretending to look at the tall and thick trees.
“Oh my god princess, so much sand. My eyes are so red.” He put his fingers on his eyes, pretending to get dust out.
“Ezra I-” You turn your head on his side.
“Why did you throw the plushie on the floor, Y/n?” His voice became stern, turning his body in your direction as he removed his arms from the railing.
You didn’t know what to say, you just looked down.
“Look at me.” He came closer to you.
You gave him a quick glance in his eyes and looked back down again.
“Come on, I know something is wrong whenever you throw me away. What is it, baby?”
The moment he said that, your eyes got watery from the tears that started forming in your eyes. 
“E-Ezra..” Your voice quivered when you looked up at him.
You rapidly wrapped your arms around his waist, you buried your face onto his chest as you sobbed louder.
“Oh, baby…” He said in such a soft tone. Ezra followed your action, wrapping his arms around you and placing his hand on the back of your head, “Shhh, it’s okay.” 
Ezra’s comfort relaxed you a bit but still didn’t stop you from crying against his chest. You clutched tighter around him.
You wished that you’d stay like this and feel his warmth forever, you knew you weren’t gonna get out of this. You were scared to confront him, scared to tell him what’s been bothering you lately because you thought it’s childish and it will make him angry.
“Baby, tell me. Tell me what’s wrong.” He removes your head from his chest so he could see your face streamed with tears clearly, which has been wetting his tie and dress shirt with your tears.
“I-...” You couldn’t speak because of the uncontrollable hiccupping. You were a slobbering mess, you felt utterly embarrassed, you felt weak in front of him.
“Come on, sit down.” Ezra breaks the hug and leads you slowly to a chair on the balcony, you sit down on the dark-wooden chair. You didn’t expect him to get on his knees right in front of you. He looks up to you and cups your cheek.
“Deep breaths, princess.” He tries to calm you down. You take 3 heavy breaths, he strokes your thigh with his other hand, helping you a bit.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He repeats his words.
You managed to calm down after a few moments. The hiccupping stopped, but your face was wet with tears. Ezra stops stroking your cheek and begins to wipe all the tears away.
“What’s wrong?” He asks tenderly. You looked down at him. He was still on his knees. You both locked your eyes together.
“Ezra I… I need you to be honest with me.” You licked your chapped lips.
“Honest about what?” He asked, confused.
You took another deep breath. 
“Today, you told me you were going to be late…” You paused a bit.
“Yeah? I was preparing all the papers. Tomorrow, a lot of big and very important clients will be coming.”
He was still confused.
“Did you really…did you really prepare whatever papers, or did you go out with someone?” You slightly bite your lips, growing more nervous.
“What?” He widened his eyes.  “No- no..no? Absolutely not, why would you think like that princess?”
You whined a little, covering your face with your hands, “I’m so sorry.”
“Sweetheart, don’t...” He removes your hands, “It’s okay. Why would you think that?”
“I just- I don’t know I-”
“Is that why your eyes were red when I entered the room? And why you throw the plushie on the floor?”
You gave him no answer, looking down full of embarrassment.
“Sweetheart…I’m madly, insanely, extremely, foolishly in love with you, can’t you see that? I forgot that women existed when I first laid my eyes on you.” He chuckles slowly.
“But… everytime we go out, there are multiple gorgeous women around you.” You spoke down to him
He squeezes your hand, “Really,” Ezra chuckles softly again, “I haven’t noticed.”
“Stop Ezra, you know what I mean. Your…” You slightly groaned, “Your exes.”
“What about them?”
“It’s just… it’s not just the exes Ezra, all the women in the past with you. I feel like…you wanna go back to that.”
“Princess, I do not give a single fuck about any of them anymore, I have only got my eyes on you, darling. 
 He sighs, “Listen to me, listen to me very closely.”
He looked down a bit before speaking, “I know I’ve been a whore in the past. I slept with thousands of women, just sleeping with them. But I’ve never felt a single clear identifiable emotion for them. It was just sex.”
He pauses a bit, turning his head on the left side and licking his lips.
“Love wasn’t something I believed in Y/n, all this Romeo and Juliet lovey goofy shit. All I wanted was just satisfaction from other women. They come in the night, filling my satisfaction. In the morning, they are gone. Just like that.”
“I have never felt any lovey dovey shit before with any women. But god, the moment I laid my eyes on you. I didn’t just fall in love with you Y/n, I flew.”
“You have no idea how much you changed me, like every woman I met, I forgot about all of them because all of my thoughts are filled with just you. “
“I knew I’d make you mine, and only mine when I saw you. You don’t understand how much I love you, that I’d kill for you.”
He stands up, taking both of your hands in his.
“Come here, stand up.”
You followed his order, standing up. His hands were still gripping yours as he led you to the railings. He wraps his arms around you from the back, placing his chin on your shoulder.
You were caught off guard, You didn’t really expect that at all. Your thoughts ran miles around your head, doubting his love. 
Doubts flooded your mind as you questioned whether his words truly reflected his love for you.
“You’re all I can think about… I’d kill every single girl in the past to show you how much I love you.”
You smiled to yourself as soon as he said it, thinking he was just being dramatic like usual.
He gently releases his embrace and steps in front of you, his hands resting on your flushed cheeks.
“I love you so much, I love you so so fucking much, more than anything in this fucking world.”
He leans in, planting tender kisses on your face - your cheeks, nose, lips, and jaw. You can’t help but giggle with your face squished in his palms while he kisses you.
“And there’s that smile that I love to see. You’re so beautiful…” He whispers those last few words, pulling you closer and pressing your body against the balcony railing, his lips trailing down to your neck.
“Ezra-” A muffled whimper escapes your shaky throat as your hand grips the railings tightly.
“I love you...” He gently kisses your neck, “I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you so much.” And another kiss. He kept kissing your neck, saying ‘I love you’ with each one, leaving you all giggly but shocked at the same time.
The crying mess you pulled finally faded away.
“Come on, let’s go shower…” He walks backward, his face still buried in your neck, planting hungry kisses that leave small hickeys. 
The tension was slowly getting hot and steamy. The looped music got unmuffled and ringed through yours and Ezra's ears as he opened the balcony door.
He leads you to the bathroom, opening it. You glanced towards the sink, images of you shedding tears on it flashing in your mind. But You didn’t have any time to think of anything anymore because of Ezra’s distraction.
He closes the door behind you, letting go of you. His voice was low and commanding. “Take your clothes off for me, princess,” He murmurs. 
Reluctantly, you comply, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you slowly remove your shirt. Your gaze drifts downward, avoiding the intensity of the moment, as you become acutely aware of your boyfriend undressing before you.
He took his coat and tie off, along with his dress shirt. You finally took the rest of your clothes except your underwear. Nervousness took over you at how Ezra was staring at your nakedness. You slowly looked down and slid down your underwear, you suddenly heard Ezra’s heavy breath as he took off his belt with his pants.
The atmosphere grew hotter as both of your clothes were discarded, building up an electric tension. The intense stare Ezra giving you amplified the thrill. You could hear his deep breaths and quiet groans because of how silent the bathroom was.
He walks towards you and pulls you closer, his desire fueling his every move. With a passion, he kissed you deeply, evoking a whimper of pleasure from your lips. He leads you to the glass shower backwards, turning on the faucet as water cascades over both of you.
His tongue slipped on your mouth, making you gasp a little. He starts exploring inside you as he grips you tightly. You opened your eyes and were met with his charcoal grey ones, there was some desire filled in his gaze you couldn’t catch.
Suddenly, he pushes you gently into the glass shower wall. You let out another slight gasp at his unexpected action. His mouth was still devouring yours. He smiles blissfully, Ezra’s hand trails down your body, reaching to your sensitive spot.
“Let me show you just how much I love you, princess.”
---------------
Wait...before you go...pick something to do with Ezra while music playing in the background, you have multiple options. (Just an idea I thought it would be cool.)
1- Have a hot and messy make out with Ezra while West Coast by Lana Del Rey playing in the background (Sped up version, best part, Ofcccc)
Song: West Coast - Lana Del Rey
2- Have a slow make out that's filled with passion and love with Ezra while Lovers From The Past By Mareux (Slowed version) is playing in the background.
Song: Lovers From The Past (I WANT TO BE JUST LIKE YOU~ BUT YOU GAVE YOURSELF AWAY~)
3- Have a slow dance with Ezra BUT it's actually very fast, you both have to dance speedily with the music, while Imitadora By Romeo Santos is playing in the background. (Best part, very sped up.)
Song: Imitadora By Romeo Santos
4- Just imagine Ezra in a song edit in his Valentino Couture suit while The Lost Soul Down By NBSPLV (Slowed down version.) playing.
Song: The Lost Soul Down By NVSPLV
5- Just Ezra and you driving around the city as he teases you playfully, dancing smoothly a bit, singing and hitting his steering wheel playfully in his seat with his song blasting on his phone while you are sitting next to him. You are extremely fed up and kept a poker face while he annoyed you and kept laughing with his song called Too Many Nights by Metro Boomin, Don Toliver & Future (Sped up version.)
Song: Too Many Nights by Metro Boomin, Don Toliver & Future
---
Me personally, I just want him to just smash my head endlessly on the wall while Lovers from the past By Mareux is playing.
"All this Romeo and Juliet lovey goofy shit" LMAOOOOO STOP I LOVE EZRA. He definitely listens to Lana.
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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year
Text
Just A Second / Tommy Miller Imagine
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Request: Just saw your post about Tommy requests!! Could you please please please write something with him and Joel doing some construction work for the reader and Tommy’s barely working for flirting with the reader instead? Thank you so much 💜
Awww please this is too sweet I love it!!
Also sorry I’ve included ma’am, if you’d like it to be g/n please let me know and I’ll change it/ post a separate one without it!
If you enjoy this one, please let me know as it really does help to keep me creating, and please send in your own ideas for the Last of Us!! 
Warning: some language and sexual allusions!
(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @acecroft.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
Joel didn’t think his sighs could get any louder, but he was about to prove himself wrong.
From where he’s leaning hands and knees on the floor, pulling up old patches of fraying moth-damaged cream carpet by himself, he has an extraordinarily good view of his brother. He peers underneath the side of his elbow and emits a sigh loud enough to be heard in the high heavens at the state of him. Ever since the two of them had signed onto this minor contract a few days ago, the man had hounded your side like a panting dog every chance he got. Even now, more than six hours into his workday, he was leaning as flirtatiously as he could against your kitchen doorway, letting out one of his ‘charming’ throaty laughs at something you had said. With his boot resting against the frame, and his hips pushed out so the top of his back is slammed awkwardly against the wall, he looks as if he’s holding the whole world in the palms of his hands.
As bitter as Joel wants to feel, the resentment can’t quite reach the inner chords of his heart. The Miller brothers were notoriously terrible when it came to love: with his wife gone, and Tommy often away too often for romance to even come into the picture, most nights usually ended with Sarah sandwiched between uncle Tommy and Joel on the sofa, the three of them watching cheesy 80s action movies and sharing round a carton of ice cream. Tommy had never been one for really getting onto the dating scene, but by god had Joel never seen his brother look so delirious. So giddy. So lovestruck. In all honesty, it kind of scared him. It was the same overjoyed look he had when he held Sarah for the first time: that same hopeful glint that seemed to drown him from the inside out, the kind that promised nothing else in life would ever matter as long as he got to love this person till the end of time. It was thrilling, and electrifying but also overpowering. All consuming.
He supposes he just doesn’t want to see his brother hurt if he ever loses that look.
The sweat beads on his forehead as his face contorts and he comes back to himself, cursing his brother with all the chance words he could think of in his head. He swears to god, he doesn’t think Tommy has even looked anywhere except at your eyes, or down to your lips and back, within the last hour or two. Every single time Joel quickly jogged past to chug some water and get back to it, or to rummage through the tool box to find the right size nail, Tommy would swat his brother in the stomach if he thought his mouth was opening to interrupt him. Joel sighs again when he looks up at the clock hanging up on the wall at the start of the staircase, nestled in between slightly crooked pictures of you, and what he could only guess to be your family, on holiday at some shore. The hands read 3:15.
‘Shit’, he murmurs to himself. He bites his bottom lip as he speeds up, fast enough that his fingers start to shake red with the effort. ‘If I’m late to pick up Sarah one more damn time she might just move in with those nutso neighbours. At least they got cookies. All I’m bringing home is a dumbass.’
Sadly for Joel, you had retreated back towards the front door to collect the mail, leaving Tommy alone and swinging his wrench around in his hand for a moment. For a second, he was too busy smiling giddily to himself and watching the back of your head walking away to notice the fuming sentiments of his brother. Only for a second, though.
‘Hey, I can hear you!’ 
Joel waves a hand at him, leaning back to rest on the heels of his feet. ‘Oh, spare me- if I have to hear one more damn joke about how you spend your days doubled over and ‘drenched in sweat’’, he brandishes the crowbar he’s using generally towards his brother, whose hands are out at his sides in mock outrage, ‘I swear I might just lose my goddamn mind.’
‘Far too late for that’, Tommy manages to mutter to himself. The suave fudger, as soon as he sees you turn back towards him the mockingly bitter look on his face is straight back into the sunniest smile, bright enough to rival the warm glow of a thousand fireflies on a blooming spring night. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand.
‘Well ma’am, as I was saying, this here you see... uh, this one here is a pry bar. If you get it in there it can, uh, it can really remove the trim, but you got to get right there - right in the action. Right down on your knees, down and dirty with it-’
Joel tears up another edge of the carpet a little too roughly, and both your heads swivel round to look at him: yours, a curious glance, as if you’d forgotten he was there. Tommy’s was more of a... well, let’s just say, it was more of a stern glare than a brotherly look. Joel ignores him, shaking his head and leaning back down heavily on his knees to shake his wrists out.
‘Tommy, you wanna give me a hand here?’
‘Uh... yeah, in just a second. Anyway, if you want me to teach you how to use this thing and save a little money in the future with some good ol’ fashioned DIY, I’m sure I have a second or two-’
‘Yeah, just a second is right. Tommy, we gotta go. Excuse us ma’am.’ Joel stands and makes to tap at the watch on his wrist, looking down in confusion at the bare skin, forgetting for a moment that he had left on his bed side table last night as it had begun to run slow. He clicks his tongue, walking over to his brother to grab his arm and nearly haul the poor dopey fool away from your side. He manages to shake him off, not wasting any time in coming to linger in front of you again; his chest puffs out, rising with a sombre breath past the edges of his rust coloured denim shirt, as if he’s about to say something desperate. Yet the words seem to catch him in the back of his throat, jamming up and trying to claw their tendrils out past his teeth, and yet he just freezes. For the first time in his life, he looks terrified as he stands there with mouth agape and whiskey eyes widening in front of your bewildered face. In the end, he seems to droop, and instead resigns himself back to a night of sitting up with Sarah and Joel if he was lucky, or out prowling around the downtown area if he still felt so disconsolate and out of sorts.
‘Well, some other time then ma’am.’ He smiles fondly down at you, wistfulness in every word despite not having even left your line of sight yet. He tips his head down in a courteous, yet sorrow filled half nod before he tries to saunter nonchalantly over to join his brother in collecting up all the tools he had barely even touched that day. Joel manages to stack up his boxes into the cradles of his arms before his brother’s even done talking, and is already heading off towards the door with a final nod goodbye at you; whether he was really done first, or his brother was just lollygagging to spend more time with you, well - oh heck, he knew rightly Tommy was dawdling around, pretending to fiddle with a few wrenches and checking his measuring tape was still extending just because he didn’t want to leave your company. If he couldn’t muster the courage to just ask you out right there and then, well, maybe luck would find some other way for these things to come about.
Eventually, though, he did have to leave, if only to stop Joel from honking the truck horn for the hundredth time. He seems to be leaning on the horn now, and even you were peering anxiously outside and scanning your neighbours’ houses to see if any waving fists had erupted from front doors yet. Taking the queue, he heads to make out, but before his foot can even step onto your porch you’ve run up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. 
‘Mr Miller! Mr Miller! Wait a second- please!’
Joel can’t see much from where he’s leaning against the steering wheel; from what he can gather, you seem to have gripped onto his brother’s shoulder and turned him back around to face you. He looks surprised, but it takes pretty minimal persuasion for hun to be led back to your torso. Without letting go of the bunched fist against his bicep, you seem to be shoving a folded note into his hand, and Joel snickers at the way Tommy pounces on the opportunity to run his pointer finger delicately up and down your open palm. You whisper something, and he nods so enthusiastically Joel’s sure his bobble-head is about to snap off.
Before he can blow the horn again, you really manage to surprise the heck out of both Miller brothers. Stepping up on your tippy toes, you press a quick kiss against Tommy’s cheek, before shyly letting him go and shoving him back out onto the porch. He pretends to trip over his feet, legs crossing as he dreamily parades down the front steps. His eyes roll back in his head as the rest of his body flushes, his hands coming up to rest against his vest where he heart lies: to anybody else, his reaction may look a little ostentatious, but Joel knows it’s as real as day. When Tommy Miller gives his heart away, even past the little teasing and flirting, he really does give his whole damn heart away. And it looks like you’ve got his caged up all nice and tightly, burning to charcoals in your hands.
He clambers into the car, waving a crumpled piece of paper in his hand with your phone number printed on it. As he slides in, bucking his belt up and fidgeting his shoulders back into the seat, he licks his bottom lip and whistles lowly through his teeth.
‘I have a date tomorrow.’ Joel scoffs, busy fiddling with the gears to even notice the flash of anger that quickly passes through his otherwise euphoric looking brother. He looks forward, taking one last glance towards your house and waving cheerfully as he spots you lingering near the front door. ‘On your birthday too. Huh, guess I might be too busy seeing my girlfriend to come to your surprise party’, he jests with a wink at his older brother, clipping in his seat belt and snorting through one nostril.
‘Okay - one, she’s not your girlfriend yet buckaroo, calm down.’ Joel rolls his eyes at the childlike glee that brightens his brother’s face at the word ‘girlfriend’ and turns the ignition. ‘And two, I have a surprise party?’
‘Well I haven’t planned anything, since you’re not five years old, but I’m sure Sarah’s doing something. Poor kid really loves your pissy ass, you know that?’
‘Yeah, I know’, he sighs out, beginning to reverse. He flicks up pieces of gravel from your driveway as the two of them slowly begin to recede into the distance.
‘Damn, that just reminds me, you really are goddamned old now. You’re getting so wrinkled, next year they’re gonna ‘ave to put you on display in some kind of museum for extinct dinosaurs.’
Joel scoffs as he turns his attention away from the road behind his headrest to stare incredulously at his brother. ‘All dinosaurs are extinct, dumbass. You’re pretty god damn stupid, you know that?’
‘Well you only know ‘cause Sarah told you-’
You can’t help but let out a bursting laugh as you watch the two of them go parading off into the wispy tendrils of the auburn sunset; the car has begun to stall as the two respectable workmen are too busy slapping each other’s shoulders across their seats like toddlers to notice.
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dangerkittenclaws · 4 months
Text
plight of pandora
johnny x simon x reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: violence, body trauma/blood, seizure, brain injury, memory loss, eventual poly smut - MDNI +18, swearing
a/n: planning to make this multiple parts! this is my first real fanfic so please be nice but constructive! if i forgot a warning or you have a correction, let a hoe know! ok enjoy, i am screaming, going to hit post now!
“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Gaz was running from around the corner of the hallway to your seemingly lifeless body on the cement floor. He’s on his knees, quickly checking your neck for a pulse. Thank god.
“Gaz, how copy?” Price’s voice buzzed through the com in your ear, unlistening.
“‘M fine. She’s down but breathing. I’m bringing her back. All clear.” Gaz’ voice trembles a little, pushing through.
 He looks down to you, his best friend, a bullet hole through your gear, torn through your abdomen, blood soaking around you. Your arm is bleeding. Your shirt, skin and the muscle of your bicep were sliced into by the knife an enemy had tried to kill you with before you shot him. He lies dead a few feet away. Your face is turned to the side, eyes closed, sweaty remnants on your temples from the intense fight. 
Gaz doesn’t hear Price’s response, too focused on taking the status of you in. 
“Lovey, I’m gonna pick you up, okay? You’re gonna be alright,” he hopes aloud. 
He slides his arms under your knees and around your shoulders and lifts. He makes sure the wound is nearest his body, the more pressure on it, the better. He’s done this before. You’re not the tiniest thing, nearly pure muscle for your body type, but no issue for him. He’s been running on adrenaline since he saw you go down in front of him before he got blindsided with his own round of enemies. 
He makes his way back out of the building, tracking back to the safe house where he knew your two lovers were going insane with worry about you. Would they trust him with you again? He needed to keep you safe and he failed. What would Price say? What verbal whipping would Johnny give him? God, what would Simon do? He didn't want to think about it. He keeps trekking through the streets until he sees a porch light on. 
You come to sometime in the midst, you’re not really sure when. Gaz is carrying you, you think? Your midsection is white hot with pain, regretting any tensing muscle. You can barely make a coherent thought, much less any word come out of your mouth. You end up letting out a loud gasp followed by a tearless sob instead. 
This is your first time getting injured out in the field. You had gone through 7 years of training and service without getting shot, but today was your lucky day. The 141 had looked over your file multiple times; the top of your class, excelled in nearly all physical and mental training, had worked your way up quite quickly with the brains and endurance to back it up. 
You don’t catch Gaz looking back down at you with wide eyes as he starts to murmur reassurances to you, “I know, lovey. I’m sorry. We’re almost there. We’ll get you fixed up.”
What hadn’t occurred to you was that your head had hit the solid cement beneath you, rattling your brain mere seconds after your body fell limp and ichor started flowing out of you. The last combatant had gotten ahold of you briefly, his knife slipping as you threw your weight backwards against him. You turned on your feet, pointing your gun at his head, but didn’t fire quickly enough before he fired his pistol right against your vest first.
Your eyes squinted shut even in the barely there evening light of the desert. Your head was spinning, too many thoughts and not enough at the same time. You try to focus through the searing pain and cloudiness in your thoughts. What had happened?
It’s too much. Your world goes dark.
Simon is the first Gaz sees come through the door of the small one story house. It looks decently well kept considering its near nowhere. Johnny is hot on his heels.
“What happened, Gaz?” 
“What were ye thinking, Panda?”
Gaz keeps his pace towards the door, trying to get you inside as quickly as possible. 
He looks to his side to report, “We got separated. We thought there was only ten in the building, there was double that. They came out of nowhere; cornered her and backed me out. I-“ 
He has to take a breath as he recounts the mission. Price is standing in the living room listening, motioning to put you on the couch, the table full and ready with medical supplies. 
“I heard her around the corner. She needed me to back her up and I couldn’t. If that bitch would’ve gotten her throat-“ Gaz nearly chokes. Johnny put his hand on his shoulder.
“But she didn’t let ‘em. She’ll be ‘right.” Johnny tries, his hands shook instead of his voice.
“I’m so sorry.” Gaz looks at you. His shoulders finally slouch with his head hanging. 
Price hadn’t said a word and got to work, getting the round out of your guts without damaging any other vital organs. 
Simon was already knelt down beside the couch and took your arm in his burly hands. He reached for the alcohol pads and the field sewing kit. It was a wonder he was so good at stitching considering the size of him. Within a few minutes your inner muscle tissue was no longer airing out in the open, closed by one of your boyfriends. 
The sewing kit is passed to Price once he had gotten the split shell out of you with a clink to the table.
Gaz is stuck, looking at your blood quickly turning the beige couch a deep red. Johnny tugs on Gaz’ straps to urge him to take his gear off. 
Unfortunately for you, the unconsciousness of your brain injury had worn off, forcing you back to life. You woke with your eyes dazed and brows drawn in a grimace. Simon looks down to you.
Price is the first to speak from further down, “Welcome back sweet girl. Quite a mess you've made here.” he tries to be lighthearted.
You don't quite understand. Tears start to come and fall over the brim of your eyes, your brain feels like it's been split into two, much less the hot swelling in your belly. 
“Hurts,” you cry, lifting your non-injured arm over your head, trying to block the pain inside of your brain from the outside.
“Panda, look at me baby.” Simon asks with desperation.
You turn your neck towards the voice, unknowing of who is talking. 
“Hm?” You feel fingers drag along your cheeks, wiping tears as they go. Air burns when you breathe.
“Do you know where you are?” Simon asks, noticing the look of confusion crossing your face.
“Shit, her pupils r’dilated.”
“What…?” you manage. Your eyes keep unfocusing no matter how hard you strain.
Simon tries to stay level, “You’re at the safe house. You and Gaz were out clearing that building. You got shot, babygirl. Do you remember that?” 
His hand was rubbing over the back of yours. More frustrated tears roll. You're uncomfortable now. You wrack your brain for information that's vanished.
Soap comes from behind the couch, leaning over you. He’s pretty. 
“Bonnie, you remember my name, love?” 
“Johnny?” you squeak out, feeling embarrassed.
“Good girl. What's his name?” he points next to you.
“I…I don’t….” You feel like you’ve betrayed him somehow. He looks at you concerned, the edge of his mask up and stretched over his nose. His lips look soft.
The room suddenly feels like a spinning ship at sea. Your eyelids contend with your brain. You start to panic, not having control over your body. A whimper comes from your throat. Your eyes roll back to nothingness. Help.
Price swears, hands immediately going to your tense hips to turn you on your side. 
Simon holds your head gently, to try to comfort you or him, he doesn't know.
Gaz watches in near silence as your body convulses in front of him. He could have prevented this. Now look.
Johnny’s eyes couldn't leave your body, watching like you would a train crash. 
You eventually still.
“Babygirl? Panda, open your eyes for me.” Simon almost demands.
You hear his voice far away. Your eyes flutter for what seems like too long. You fight your way to consciousness once again and see wide, brown eyes staring at you.
“Price, Medevac’s landed a block away.”
Taglist: @ohworm-writes, @bjornthebearguy
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