Tumgik
#oh we’re adults now and still torn up about things but oh. oh we are so stupid hahaha
wiitchkins · 2 years
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10 years later ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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strangerquinns · 11 months
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Deadly Reunion| Chapter 12
Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au
summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993
warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues
word count: 2.3k+
⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist
You stood there with the cool breeze moving between the two of you, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Eddie stood before you with his back still facing you. Eddie felt like his heart was in his throat as the silence between you two thickened more and more with each passing second.
“You thought me not coming with you to LA meant I didn’t love you?” You spoke, your voice so soft it was barely over a whisper.
“Why wouldn’t I think that?” Eddie looked over his shoulder at you. His large dark eyes held a sadness that made your chest tighten and ache. “The one person I wanted to come with us the most didn’t. I…Maybe I’d made up everything in my head and you didn’t love me. Instead, you were ok to leave me…like everyone else.”
The ache in your chest changed into complete anguish as you heard his words. You hesitated momentarily before moving across the small space of the roof and wrapping your arms around him. Eddie’s body went stiff for a moment before he relaxed and wrapped one of his arms across your shoulders. You pressed your face into his chest and quickly you were surrounded by his scent. Cigarettes, leather with a hint of mint, and body wash.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You spoke, your voice muffled slightly. “That never even…fuck.”
Eddie bent down, pressed his lips into your hair, and stood there momentarily. Both of you were unmoving, and you stepped back away from him after a long moment. Eddie tucked his head out, but you saw the glisten of unshed tears.
“I’m not mad you didn’t say anything,” You spoke, “I mean…why would you after what I did.”
“The nights I wanted to pick up the phone and just call you, sweetheart, and hear your voice. But I could never bring myself to do it for some reason. It was like any moment it came to dialing your number…I froze.”
You nodded your head, “It was the same with me. It works both ways, Eds, I could’ve called too.”
Eddie nodded his head and took a deep breath “Let’s not dwell on the past too much.”
“The past is why we are here,” You frowned.
Eddie looked back over the barren land that spanned out and seemed to melt in with the dark sky. “Well, we can move forward, right? Cause I have really missed my best friend, I don’t know about you.”
You nodded your head. “I’ve missed him too.”
Eddie looked at you with a smirk, “So I’m forgiven? We’re good?”
You sighed heavily and nodded your head before moving to stand beside him. For the first time in a while, you felt like a little of the pressure that was weighing you down was lifted. But you couldn’t help the small voice in the back of your head telling you to run. That you could possibly be stepping into a much worse danger than you ever have before.
“You’re forgiven,” You spoke, before moving to lean into him slightly, and resting your head on his shoulder. “So weird, still doesn’t feel real that…this is happening. That this is real.”
“I know, I’ve been feeling the same to be honest.” Eddie chuckled softly. Finishing off his cigarette before flicking it over the edge of the roof. “But when we get back to the camp, maybe we can take things slow. Learn to be friends again before anything else?”
“I would really, really like that.”
There was a long pause before Eddie spoke again, “Would it be weird to ask to kiss you again?”
You didn’t have to look up at him to hear the smirk that was across his lips.
“Oh my god, Munson.” You giggled lightly, before soon you felt the callous of Eddie’s hand against your cheek as he pulled you close. His lips press tightly against yours in a soft kiss, before Eddie pulled back.
“Mmm, yeah,” Eddie smiled, “Much better than I imagined.”
You rolled your eyes slightly before pulling back away from him. “Might be the only one you get for a while. Cause we’re taking this slow, slow…we have to build our friendship up first.”
“I agree, sweetheart, I agree,” Eddie spoke with a small nod of his head.
The next couple of hours passed quickly - and soon enough Steve and Robin came and switched out with you and Eddie. Your body was so heavy with fatigue, you barely remembered much after that. Instead, you woke up with a heaviness to your body from sleeping on the uncomfortable, dirty floor. Everyone packed up quickly before slowly leaving out of the station. The day was already heavy and hot with the sun above in the sky.
“Alright, let’s get to our destination today so we can get back to camp. I’m sure we all are ready to be back and safe.” Steve spoke to the entire group.
There was a wave of murmurs of agreement as the group of you started down the road toward Redding. The travels were, thankfully, uneventful. A few straggling Flayed along the road but nothing that anyone could handle within the group. You just were thankful not to run into any more packs. The city limit sign of Redding came into view after a few hours of travel.
Redding was a town that was slightly larger than Hawkins. But as the few of you walked through the abandoned streets of downtown, you saw that it looked to have been hit worse. Windows were broken in storefronts. Holes were blown into the side of the building from what you could only imagine was some sort of bomb.
It was something you never got used to seeing.
Your eyes scanned over the town, not snapping back till you heard your name called.
“…Buckley and Munson, why don’t you hit the two pharmacies. One is here downtown along with another about four blocks over.” Steve spoke while holding a map in his grasp. “I’m going to hit the Urgent Care with the others and then we meet at the hospital.” Everyone nodded their head as he spoke, “Be safe and be vigilant. Don’t want others to be hurt.”
Everyone split up into their respective groups, with you trailing behind Eddie and Robin as they led toward the first pharmacy. The building seemed to be crumbling from the outside in, with bricks falling away from the structure and littering the ground beneath. As the earth began to reclaim it with foliage growing over it.
Eddie approached first and held his arm out, signaling for you and Robin to stop. You paused with her on the street, as Eddie slowly approached the front. His gun was aimed forward as he approached. You and Robin scoped out for anything that would be considered a threat. The sound of the metal door creaking loudly caused you to look back toward Eddie, watching as he disappeared inside.
You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath till he appeared back in the doorway after a while, giving a slight wave to signal it was all clear. A large puff of air passed through your lips as you headed toward the front entrance, your weapon tight in your grasp with Robin following close beside you.
“Building is clear, but the building seems to be falling apart, so step carefully,” Eddie spoke, pulling his bandana back over his mouth and nose.
You grimaced at the smell of mold and dust that was heavy in the air as you walked inside. The floor beneath you creaked loudly with the weight of the three of you, it was enough to make your heart jump slightly with each groan.
“I’ll sweep behind the counter if the two of you want to head into the actual pharmacy part. Seems there might be some bottles still on those shelves.”
“What else are we looking for?” You spoke as you slipped your gun back into its holster and grabbed your flashlight, walking toward the back area.
“Anything that would seem to be good for the medics. Antibiotics, gauze, sutures – you know that kind of stuff.” Eddie spoke, his voice sounding farther and farther away the more you walked away.
“You ever have that uneasy feeling that seems to sit in the pit of your stomach like a lead ball,” Robin spoke as she searched through shelves, reading labels of scattered bottles. “Been feeling it ever since we left that fucking house in the woods.”
“That’s not exactly something I want to be hearing right now,” You spoke with a small chuckle. “For sure don’t wanna be hearing that we’re standing in a building that is obviously falling apart.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve always been an anxious person.” Robin spoke with a nervous chuckle, a weary look on her face as you looked at her.
“Let’s just be quick, ok?” You spoke, moving through to the next aisle of the pharmacy, grabbing nearly any bottle that sounded useful.
You and Robin moved through quickly before leaving back toward the front. Your eyes scanned over the front of the shop looking for Eddie, seeing the dark curls as they seemed to search through the drawers of a counter.
“Found some aspirins and some other prescriptions with words I can’t make out,” You spoke, with Robin following behind you tossing your finds into her bag. “What have you got Munson?”
“Eh, not much really. Found a first aid kit half used.” He shrugged.
“Let’s get out of here, this place is making me feel like we’re gonna fall through the floor any second,” Robin spoke with a rush, before heading out the front door.
Eddie let out a small laugh as he watched her rush out, before quickly moving to hop over the counter, “Buckley’s always been a bit…anxious about things.”
“I am quickly learning that” You spoke, “But she’s right this building is a death trap, let’s go.”
The two of you stepped out and almost instantly you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise s you stepped back into the sunlight. Robin was standing barely outside of the doorway, frozen, with her back facing the two of you.
“Buckley, you…” Eddie began to speak, but Robin’s hand rose up quickly with her palm out, and Eddie fell silent almost instantly.
Quickly you knew that something was wrong.
Your eyes scooped and looked around trying to find what had spooked her.
“Robin, you’re really freaking me the fuck out,” You whispered with your gaze returning to her. Seeing the look on her face, her face fell pale like a ghost.
“Listen…” Robin spoke.
You and Eddie stood there looking at each other as silence came down around the three of you.
And within a few seconds, you heard it. It was faint and honestly, you were impressed that Robin was able to hear it.
Voices, unfamiliar voices.
You might not have spent a lot of time with Steve and the others. But you were confident about whether or not you’d be able to tell his voice from others. And the voices you were hearing were ones you’d never heard before.
“Where the fuck are those coming from,” Eddie spoke with a harsh whisper.
“North, from the distance and echo, I would say roughly four to six blocks,” Robin spoke, turning to look over her shoulder toward Eddie.
“How in the hell…” You began to question but shook your head. “How were you able to hear them?”
“Just good hearing,” Robin shrugged “I think we can make it to the hospital if we move through the back alleys.”
You knew it was wiser to avoid groups whenever possible.
“Too much of a risk, we don’t know how many people are within the group.” You spoke. “As much as you hate it, Robin, we should just go back inside.”
“We should warn Steve and the others,” Robin spoke as the three of you backed back into the pharmacy.
Eddie shuffled through his bag and grabbed the walkie-talkie, turning the volume up quickly before pressing the button. “Harrington, do you copy? Harrington.”
Eddie released the button causing the static of the line to come through. As the three of you sat there, the sound of the voices became louder – meaning they were closer. You all sat against and behind the counter that Eddie had been rifling through only moments ago.
“Harrington, goddamn it,” Eddie whispered screaming into the walkie again.
This time it was only a few seconds before an answer came back through.
“Munson? What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice came through, slightly distorted due to the distance between the groups.
“We have trespassers, not sure how many,” Eddie answered back. “We’re hiding out in the pharmacy.”
“Stay put, we’re gonna get a vantage point, wait for an update. Only engage if needed.”
“Copy,”
Eddie turned the volume back down before moving toward the window at the other side of the counter. The window was dirty with mud caked across most of it, but there were small spots where one could try and look out. Eddie’s eyes scanned through the streets looking for any sign of those they heard.
“Do you see anything?” Robin whispered.
“No.” He spoke with frustration in his voice.
But as he spoke, the loud familiar pop echoed through the streets before a window cracked and broke. Eddie ducked back down and pressed his back against the wall, both you and Robin jumping at the sound. There was a pause, a silence before everything erupted. You next felt Eddie pressing his body down on top of yours and Robins.
This chapter was more minor than others but was mostly a filler. The new conflict will be coming and readers past will be coming back up again. Also...Eddie and Reader made up! The angst will mostly come from zombies, bad guys, and people dying or having near-death experiences. Consider that a warning now hahaha
taglist: (let me know if you ever want to be added)
@mopeymopeymouse / @aris-house / @brxkenartt /@akiratoro420 /@stylesxmunson / @aactuaaltraash / @fandomgirl17 / @ches-86/ @chaoticcancer / @munsonology / @bellamy-barnes / @theonlyh3artbreaker / @idkidknemore / @familyvideowithsteve / @eddiesdingus / @thefemininemystiquee / @the-world-is-a-mess-and-so-am-i / @xdarkcreaturex / @lunr-flwr / @cherry-omi/ @im-emma22@munson-enthusiast / @munsonmecrazy / @jupitar-jul / @katiemrty/ @maddie-luvs-eddie /@eddiemusworld/ @ih3artdanielle / @eddiesguitarskills / @hargrovesswifee /@chaoticcancer / @rh1nestonecowg1rl / @atombombbibunny /@munson-enthusiast / @hellf-1-re / @fangirling-4-ever / @corrcdedcoffin /@sidthedollface2 / @emma77645 / @eddiiiieeee
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years
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Mine
Johnny Knoxville x reader SMUT MINORS DNI
Summary: You and Johnny have to deal with your ex working on the set of Jackass
A/N: So this one really got away from me but it's quickly become my favourite thing that I've written!
Buy me a coffee :)
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Johnny didn’t get jealous often; he was secure enough in our relationship to have no reason to get jealous. However, there was the odd time where he’d let himself get jealous and I can’t lie, it can be incredibly attractive on him.
A new medic joined the crew whilst the boys were filming Jackass 3D and it wasn’t until he turned up on set on his first day that me and Johnny realised that it was my ex, Matt. Me and Matt had been together for three years before we broke up after I walked in on him cheating on me and Johnny knew how much that had torn me up, him being there for the whole time I grieved the loss of my relationship. I had now been dating Johnny for just under a year and I can honestly say that I’ve been happier this past year with Johnny than any of the three years I was with Matt for.
‘You okay doll?’ Johnny asked me when we first saw Matt turn up, ‘I can get Jeff to get rid of him if you don’t want him here, it’s completely your call.’
‘No, don’t get rid of him, he was clearly hired for a reason, he must be good at his job and you need someone who knows how to patch a guy up well. We’re all adults, we can be civil. Plus, I’ve got you now, I’m happy,’ I replied, looking up at him.
‘Okay sweetheart, if you change your mind, you let me or one of the guys know, okay?’
‘Okay. What are you filming today?’ I asked as we walked hand in hand closer to the guys getting ready for the stunt.
‘Me and Dunn are going to try this Blowback thing. It’s such a good idea that I don’t want to waste it.’
‘Please be careful.’
‘Always am,’ he said, kissing me before running off to get set up.
I was standing back, watching the guys go through the motions of how the stunt was supposed to work, loving how passionate Johnny was as he talked about it. I was so wrapped up in watching Johnny that I hadn’t realised Matt approach me.
‘Hey (Y/N).’
‘Oh, hi Matt, welcome to Jackass I guess,’ I laughed, feeling nervous around him. I looked back over at Johnny who had noticed Matt and was keeping an eye on me.
‘You okay?’ He mouthed across the field.
I nodded and smiled at him before motioning for him to get back to work.
‘So how have you been?’ Matt asked, not moving from where he stood next to me.
‘I’ve been really good, thank you. I’m dating Johnny and it’s going really well, how have you been?’
‘Yeah, I’ve seen you two in magazines. I’m alright, not seeing anyone at the moment.’
I didn’t really know how to respond so I smiled but Jeff’s call of action drew my attention back to Johnny and Ryan who were about to start running. They ran at the tree but instead of bouncing back off of the stick, the stick snapped, sending them both to the floor, Johnny’s laughter ringing out from the group. As soon as I heard “cut” I ran over to see how they were doing. Once I reached them, I noticed Johnny holding his hand still and close to his body.
‘Hey, what did you do?’ I asked, pulling his hand towards me. It was then that I saw the huge gash between his thumb and finger, it was bleeding badly.
‘Hey, I’m okay, stings a bit is all, probably need a couple of stiches,’ he said, putting his hand on the side of my face, ‘I’ve had worse remember.’
‘How could I forget,’ I laughed quietly as Matt came over and ushered Johnny towards the medical trailer, me following behind.
‘You don’t need to come in for this, (Y/N), less people in here the better,’ Matt said as I stepped into the trailer, clearly trying to minimise the time me and Johnny were together.
‘She’s stayin’,’ Johnny said, taking my hand in his uninjured hand and rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand, not missing Matt watching the encounter.
---
That evening after filming had wrapped, we all headed out to a bar for a few drinks. After Johnny had his hand stitched up, he carried on filming stunts despite my telling him to be careful. We were sat in the corner of the area the cast had taken over, Johnny arm across the back of my chair and his finger tracing small circles on the back of my shoulder.
‘I’m going to get the next round, you want anything doll?’ He asked, leaning into me so I’d be able to hear him.
In response, I lifted my empty glass and shook it slightly, ‘can I have the same again?’
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said, getting up and making sure to kiss me deeply before he left, knowing Matt was watching from the sofa across from us.
As soon as Johnny had left, Matt moved to take his seat, turning his whole body to face me.
‘Everything okay? How was your first day?’ I asked politely, not wanting to be rude.
‘It’s been alright, everyone seems nice. Would have been better if I’d have been able to have a proper chat with you though.’
‘We spoke earlier.’
‘Not a proper conversation though was it, Knoxville was making sure I didn’t get too close to you.’
‘He is my boyfriend, Matt.’
‘I think he’s just insecure now he’s seen us two together. Seen how good we are together,’ he said, leaning closer into me causing me to lean back.
‘We’ve not been “together” for two years now, Matt, you saw to that remember.’
‘Well yeah, but now we work together, I think we can get back together. Someone like Knoxville doesn’t deserve you, you deserve someone who will treat you right and that’s just not who Knoxville is. I’ve spent a day with the guy and he just seems like the type of guy to mess you around.’
Before I could reply, Johnny’s voice came from behind me, ice cold, ‘Matt, can I talk to you outside?’
Matt looked up at Johnny and smirked, ‘sure thing mate,’ he said, getting up and heading outside, ‘see you out there.’
As soon as he was out of earshot, I jumped up from my seat and grabbed Johnny’s arm.
‘Don’t get stupid.’
‘(Y/N), he was trying to get you to break up with me, he’s lucky if the only thing I do is punch him,’ he said, not quite meeting my eyes.
‘Johnny look at me.’ When he didn’t, I gently took his chin in my hand and tugged his head to face me, his eyes meeting mine, my heart breaking when I saw the mix of emotions playing through his eyes, ‘who cares what he says, I’m not going anywhere, you know that right, I love you and him coming back and spending the day trying to separate us isn’t going to change that.’
Johnny’s expression softened as he kissed me gently and pressed his forehead to mine, ignoring the whoops and cheers from the likes of Steve-O and Pontius. ‘I know and I love you too but I can’t let him get away with what he said,’ he kissed my forehead before gently tugging his arm out of my grip and walking out of the bar, me hot on his heels.
---
We got outside to see Matt leaning against the wall, waiting for us. I grabbed Johnny’s hand, him squeezing it in acknowledgement but not taking his eyes off of Matt.
‘Just talk to him PJ,’ the use of his real name causing him to look down at me and reluctantly nod his head. ‘I love you.’ Johnny wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead again.
‘So what did you want to talk about Knoxville,’ Matt piped up from behind Johnny, making his arm tense around me.
‘I swear doll, if you hadn’t asked so nicely, he’d be on the floor right now,’ Johnny said into my ear, making me giggle and push him slightly.
‘Be nice.’
Johnny sighed and turned to face Matt who was still smirking because he knew how much it pissed Johnny off. He walked closer to him and had a moment of satisfaction as he saw Matts smile falter slightly as he stepped a tiny bit back.
‘Look,’ Johnny said, sighing, trying to reign himself in, ‘you can’t keep doing this man. (Y/N)’s with me now and you can’t keep trying to get in the way of that on set. Yeah, you’re a pretty important crew member and I’m grateful for the good job you did on my hand today but trying to kick (Y/N) out of the trailer? Not on. And then trying to tell her that I’m insecure that she’s going to leave me for you. Dude, you had your chance with her and you blew it, that’s no one’s fault but your own. I love her, and I’m not going to blow my chance with her because she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, you as well, you’re not going to find another girl like her. Just move on and let her be happy okay?’
Silence filled the space between the three of us, tears running down my cheeks as Johnny spoke. Matt hadn’t spoken since Johnny finished. After a while, he leaned around Johnny to look at me.
‘See you tomorrow, (Y/N),’ he said before walking off.
As soon as he rounded the corner, Johnny’s shoulders slumped and he ran his hands over his face as I approached him.
‘That was officially the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I’d taken on 10 bulls before doing that again,’ he said as I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his t-shirt.
‘I’m proud of you,’ I said softly as his arms came up around my body and he squeezed me tightly.
‘Only did it for you doll, now what do you say we go back to mine and I show you just who you belong to?’
---
Johnny pressed me against the front door as soon as it closed behind us, his lips capturing mine in a rough kiss. I felt myself sink into the kiss, knowing that Johnny was in control. He moved his hands down over my ass to the back of my thighs, tapping to let me know to jump up. As soon as my legs were wrapped around his waist, he carried us both into his bedroom whilst I started nipping at his neck, throwing me roughly onto his bed and crawling on top of me.
‘You’re mine, (Y/N), don’t care what he says, you’re mine,’ he growled against my lips as he ripped my top off of my body, groaning when he realised I wasn’t wearing a bra and he leaned down to wrap his lips around my nipple, his hand coming up to play with the other.
‘Yours,’ I gasped, threading my fingers into his hair, holding him against my chest.
He started to kiss down my body, lips connecting with each side of my hips before his lips hit the button of my jeans, smirking as he looked into my eyes as he undid my jeans with his teeth, my head falling back, a groan escaping my throat as he used his hands to pull my jeans and underwear off my body, leaving me completely naked in front of him.
‘God, you’re stunning,’ he said, crawling back up my body, the feel of his jeans and t-shirt against my nipples and clit making me shiver. I moved my hands to the bottom of his t-shirt and started tugging.
‘PJ, need you,’ I panted as he threw his top to his floor and stood to remove his jeans, kissing up my legs before he reached my pussy.
‘Eyes on me sweetheart,’ he said darkly, meeting my eyes as he leaned down and licked a stripe up my pussy before wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking. It wasn’t long until my legs started shaking as I felt my first orgasm wash over me. As I came down, I realised that Johnny hadn’t stopped and he didn’t seem to be planning to anytime soon.
‘Johnny, PJ, can’t,’ I babbled as his tongue kept the same pace on my clit, pushing two of his fingers into me and crooking his fingers, hitting my g-spot which made my legs twitch.
‘Oh I think you can pretty girl, one more, then I’ll fuck you.’ I nodded and threw my head back, letting myself succumb to the please as I soon felt my second orgasm creep up on me. This time, Johnny slowed his pace as I rode the orgasm out, slowing to a stop and crawling up my body.
‘You okay?’ he asked sweetly.
‘Yes, fuck me, please,’ I said, making him laugh as he lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in roughly, not giving me any time to adjust as he started a brutal pace straight away, clearly working out the aggression he’d meant to use on Matt earlier.
‘You’re so good for me, (Y/N),’ he moaned in my ear, sucking a hickey into the skin just below my earlobe, ‘me and no one else, such a good girl.’
His voice combined with the pace of his thrusts were quickly bringing back to the edge, my arms wrapped around his neck and I pulled him down into a rough kiss, our teeth clashing together as his hips sped up and his hand came down to play with my clit. I pulled away from the kiss and held his face in my hands and I looked into his eyes. I’d always thought he had lovely eyes but tonight they were beautiful, a mix of emotions playing through them; love, anger, insecurity.
‘I love you, I’m yours, nothing’s going to change that. I love you PJ Clapp, Johnny Knoxville, whatever you want to call yourself, don’t let him get into your head because he’s just jealous, okay?’
Instead of replying, Johnny slammed his lips back onto mine as he thrust against me three more times before stilling and emptying himself inside of me, my third orgasm rushing over me at the same time. I felt Johnny press his whole weight against me, as he buried his face in my neck before pulling out and rolling to the side. I turned over and propped myself up on my elbow, one hand coming to rest on his face, gently wiping away the tear that he’d let fall.
‘You okay?’
‘I am now,’ he said, taking hold of the hand that was on his face and kissing my palm, ‘I meant everything I said earlier, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not letting you go. Ever.’
I smiled and snuggled into him, ‘well it’s a good thing there’s nowhere else I’d rather be isn’t it.’
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inaramisview · 2 years
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eddie x reader who is just honestly like super smart. like can answer any question in less than 10 seconds
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falling object :: e. munson
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smart!f!reader x eddie munson
summary :: eddie’s girlfriend is a genius.
warnings :: dustin swearing, swearing, female reader, she/her pronouns, pet names (babe, baby, my little psychopath (LMAO), use of y/n, dedicated to bae @lover4st 😜
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“..mkay..so what’s….” eddie’s huge index finger circles around the page, looking for yet another word for his girlfriend to describe. “…whi.. whippersnapper.” eddie giggled into the book as his girlfriend looked up to the sky. “it sounds.. almost like..” “like a word erica sinclair would insult you with?” eddie giggled once more.
“precisely.” she giggled, kicking her feet off of her bed as she did so. “i’m gonna go with noun.. and.. an idiotic person - a young one, too. maybe a young adult.” she nodded in conclusion.
“a-ha! that’s where you’re wrong, miss.” eddie points out as his girlfriend held her breath in defeat. “a whippersnapper as-“ “woah, where’d the british accent come from?”
“the what?”
“the british accent.” she puzzled. eddie had a habit of slipping between accents, but she had no idea why. eddie stared blankly at his girlfriend before continuing.
“a whippersnapper is an insignificant or pretentious young person. the only thing you’re right about is the noun part.” eddie said, matter-of-factly. “babe. say that again, but slowly.”
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“hey, y/n?” dustin piped up. “yes?”
“what is velocity?” the curly-haired boy asked, looking up from his overworked textbook.
“velocity is the rate at which a falling object falls, but it’d be better to just say speed as to not confuse anyone. so speed.” dustin nodded, gasping a small ‘thank you!’ as eddie looked with a face which was hard to read. his eyebrows were knitted together and his lips were torn - half a smile, and half a frown.
“so, i guess when it comes to you..you could call me velocity.” y/n looked up at her boyfriend, who was now smirking. “yeah, why’s that eddie?” dustin asked.
“because im falling..real fast..for y/n.” he smirked. honestly, it looked more like he was trying not to laugh at his own words than be slick. but to eddie, he thought she would think it was smooth.
“eddie, baby, that’s not how it works. i think. is it how it works? what do you think, dustin?”
everyone turned to dustin, who had a disgusted look on his face and was still staring at eddie. “WHAT THE FUCK?” he screamed at eddie, disgusted.
“oh, shit - sorry kid. i forgot you were here.” eddie chuckled.
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skull rock was a dirty place. leaves all over the place, dirt flown everywhere. not to mention the smell-
“hey, nance?” robin asked, making nancy perk her head up from where she was fixating on a spot of dirt. “mhm?”
“how long do we have to walk to get to the lake from here?” robin questions, looking up at the sky. “well, how long did we walk from the car?”
“about half a mile.”
“what?” nancy questioned.
“half a mile. and at the car, we’re half a mile straight away from the lake. so if we go from the car, it’d be all around a mile walk to the lake.” y/n stated, looking up from her spot on the dirt.
“sorry, who are you again?” nancy questioned. she didn’t mean to sound patronising, but she needed to know.
“i’m eddie’s girlfriend.” y/n nodded without any emotion in her face or voice.
“adorable.” nancy sighed sarcastically, “you guys are glued to the hip.”
no they weren’t. they were quite far from eachother, in fact.
“she’s my little psychopath.” eddie joked as y/n shot a glare his way, making him throw his hands up in defeat.
“shit, sorry.” he joked as steve chuckled into his hand.
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masterlist :: inaramisview
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queenofmalkier · 2 years
Text
The Ongoing Egwene Exploration part 2
I pulled the time to do this out of a hat because I was enjoying the adventure and also wanted to read the whole book in one sitting and it was ruining my week.
Part 1 can be found here.
Let’s do this!
While this chapter picks up directly where the last ended, it felt like enough of an “end scene” sort of moment to separate this encounter into an individual observation post. We’ve officially been introduced to Thom, and with this introduction we get to see a bit more about Egwene and how she reacts to others.
She starts off excited - they all are! It’s been a hard winter and a gleeman is sort of the indie-band-entertainment-of-the-year in their village. I like that we have this pocket of a moment, which ends all too quickly, because it shows despite everything else that Egwene is still young. She’s excited about Bel Tine, about the fireworks and dancing around the maypole. Oh Egwene.
But she isn’t excited for long, not once Thom gets going. He immediately jumps into a tirade, inadvertently insulting Egwene’s father,  the neighboring villages that might one day be her people if she becomes a Wisdom, and, worst of all, Nynaeve. Because yes, Thom The Silverest Tongue To Ever Silver is guilty of foot-in-mouth syndrome on occasion.
I’m not sure if I find that encouraging or not, given my own penchant for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Honestly, I very much would have been more than a touch annoyed with him myself. Egwene’s feelings are absolutely justified. Given that she at least knows Fain, that’s more or less the last straw - she’s many things, but cowardly has never been one of them. She’s not going to stand there and listen to Thom disparage anyone else without making it clear she’s not a receptive audience. (In addition to being brave, she’s also very loyal when she can afford to be.)
Good for her.
This next bit feels a bit fumbled. Thom is obviously trying to smooth any ruffled feathers, the boys snicker a bit, but it’s not really clear why. Are they waiting for Egwene to lay into Thom? Or do they think that his flattery is absurd? It remains a bit murky, though I gather we’re supposed to understand that the boys are laughing at the idea of Egwene being pretty and she’s mad about that.
Whatever the case, Egwene is offended and politely accepts the offer.
The conversation moves on but we get another flash of insight - unlike the boys, Egwene is not superstitious. Perhaps because of her mentor, Nynaeve, but perhaps she was always a bit skeptical? It makes me wonder what sort of little adventures she’s gone on, given what the boys have admitted to. Has she tested the strength of her own resolve just yet? Or is she building up to it?
It does embarrass her though, either because she was suppose to mind her tongue about whatever Nynaeve told her or because she knows her dismissiveness would be frowned on in their village. Censure is a powerful tool.
Again, Egwene displays an innate ability to read people and to understand their motivations - she knows Thom is being a dick, but she also feels guilty about calling it out because clearly the three boys haven’t clocked it yet.
More flashes of delight, the mood shifts so quickly. I sort of forgot that. They are all just so bloody young :( Now I’m sad again. She might be playing at being a Wisdom for now, at being an adult with a braid and everything, but Egwene still has her favorite stories, and Rand knows these aren’t those kinds of stories. Another subtle manipulation tactic, perhaps? Rand does think she’s done it intentionally to rattle him, perhaps in retribution for not agreeing she was the prettiest girl in the village. We can’t really say.
We’ve learned she favors comedies though, and, rather on the nose for Egwene “stories about women outwitting people who were supposed to be smarter than everyone else” - can you see my surprised face?
We end this encounter with Egwene on an interesting note - torn between Rand and Nynaeve, who represents a different path, a different future. That something more that Egwene wants in her life.
Egwene follows Nynaeve.
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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years
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The Bakugou Kids - Bakugou Katsuki
(Dad)Bakugou x (Mom)f!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Cursing
Summary: Bakugou and Y/N love their son with their entire beings, but sometimes, parents need a break. Especially when those parents are responsible for creating a literal demon spawn. He is kind, well behaved, and cute of course! But he does have Bakugou blood in him. With Y/N already away on a girls trip, Bakugou has to find out how he’s going to deal with his (now) many, many kids.
A/N: You passed down your duplication quirk down to Katsuo.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked your husband as you stood at the doorway. “Katsumi may be a calm baby but she’s still a baby. And Katsuo’s quirk just kicked in and it is mine. I would know how difficult it can be to manage.”
“Stop worrying, Babe. It’s just a duplication quirk. And he’s only 5, how powerful can it really be?”Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around you. “Just go on your little girl’s trip with Ponytail and Racoon Eyes. I can handle the brat.”
You looked at your husband with a raised brow and smile before rolling your eyes and giving him a kiss. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a few days!”
With that, you walked out of the house and into the cab to meet your friends at the resort. Katsuki chuckled before walking back into the house to find his son napping on the couch. His spiky, blonde locks were all messed up with bed head while his E/C eyes he inherited from you remained shut. Katsuki walked over to his newborn daughter and picked her up while he took a seat next to Katsuo’s sleeping form, rubbing at his soft hair until he woke up.
“Can’t be all that bad, right Katsumi?”
The baby girl merely cooed with sparkling ruby eyes that mimicked her father’s.
Wow. Wrong. He was so wrong! It had only been 2 days since your departure but things had already gone so wrong! When you said your quirk was difficult to manage, Katsuki thought it would be difficult for Katsuo to manage. Not him!
Katsuki should’ve known his son would’ve taken the opportunity to act out while his mother was away. He had always been your little angel while Katsuki saw him as his little gremlin. With Y/N gone, Katsuo has been pushing all kinds of limits. Limits that had Katsuki beat.
Katsuo had been fortunate enough to inherit a quirk. And not just any quirk, but your quirk. Duplication. Basically, he can create copies of himself. When you were his age, you could only create 4, max. Katsuo was different though. He had Bakugou blood flowing through him. He was advanced the second he was born. So now, Katsuki was stuck looking after Katsumi, Katsuo, and Katsuo’s 16 other copies.
“Aye! Number 15, you’re gonna break that lamp! 11 and 8! Don’t wrestle in the mud! Go take a bath! NUMBER 3 GET OFF THE KITCHEN ISLAND! KATSUMI!” The adult blond screamed, looking for his infant daughter, eventually finding her sleeping in her little rocker on the living room floor. “Oh right, you don’t talk yet.”
Katsuki sighed as he slumped down next to his daughter, and leaned his back against the couch. He looked around the room and saw the 17 Katsuo’s making a ruckus around the house. All he could do was question how the hell is 3 month old daughter could possibly sleep through all this.
Katsuki almost lost all hope for humanity until a knock was heard on his front door. Knowing exactly who was there, he quickly got up from his place on the floor and ran to the entrance. “You idiots are finally here!”
Katsuki pulled in his 3 friends, the boys of the Bakusquad, and slammed the door shut. The 3 friends all stood in shock at the sight of the house. Not that it was overly messy or anything. It’s just that there were about 16 more figures in the house that aren’t usually there.
“You gotta help me!” Katsuki said, running infront of them, shaking his best friend’s shoulders. “I love my kids! I do! I love Katsuo, I swear! BUT I DIDNT SIGN UP TO BE A FATHER OF 18 FREAKING DEVILS!”
“Okay! Okay, relax man. We’re here.” Kirishima said, patting his friend’s shoulder as he wept. “How the hell are we gonna take care of 17 little Bakugous?”
“Right? We thought 1 Kacchan was a lot. Then you brought another one into the world, who apparently brought some unannounced friends.” Kaminari joked.
“They’re demons!” Katsuki exclaimed. “This has to be some fucking Karma for the shit I did. I knew I should’ve listened to my old hag better. Now shits came back to bite me in the- HEY! PUT YOUR SISTER DOWN! SHE’S NOT A FOOTBALL!”
Katsuos number 7 and 5 placed a sleeping Katsumi back in her rocker with an annoyed pout before running off to play something else.
“Welllll, there’s nothing that 3 cool uncles can’t fix!” Sero enthusiastically said. “Hey kiddos! Who’s ready to have some fun?”
All the mini blondes stopped their movements, some freezing mid-air, and looked to the slim man. They all shouted in joy at the sight of their uncles and ran to pounce on the 3 men, including their father. From the point of view of the boys in the Bakusquad, it looked like a Bakugou stampede.
“Run, run, RUN, RUN, RUUUNN!!!!” Kaminari screamed as the boys all ran for their lives to escape the herd of Katsuos. This was going to be an interesting day.
Safe to say after the day had passed, the boys of the Bakusquad were completely exhausted. Sero had half his clothes torn, Kirishima’s hair fell from it’s great spikes and even lost some red hues, Katsuki’s eye bags had never been heavier, and Kaminari was just straight knocked the fuck out. They were all thrown across the couch as Katsumi rested in Katsuki’s arms.
“What do we do?” Kirishima exclaimed.
“I don’t know.” Katsuki said, looking at his scrambling son(s). “There’s just too many.”
“And we’ve already lost a soldier.” Sero said pointing to Kaminari’s sleeping form. Katsuki and Kirishima followed his gaze and bowed their heads in respect towards the defeated Kaminari.
“Well now what? Is Bakugou just supposed to live like this for the next 3 days?” Kirishima asked.
“Hell no. If I do, there’s not gonna be anymore Katsuki. I’ll just be some body without a soul because my damn gremlins sucked it outta’ me.” Katsuki said with his head dropped down.
“Well how do we get them to calm down?” Sero questioned.
“I don’t know. They’re all mini me’s. Nobody could get me to relax.” Katsuki said in defeat, but that’s when Kirishima had a lightbulb go off for him.
“Except for Y/N!” The red head said, popping up from his seat on the couch.
“Uh, if you haven’t noticed Shitty Hair, this all started because she’s away on her trip.” Katsuki said with sarcasm as he looked at his friend as if he was an idiot.
“I know that! But Y/N wasn’t the only one to tame you, Bakugou!” Kirishima said in excitement.
“So then who else?” Katsuki asked.
“You know,” Kirishima smirked. “Denki’s favorite person. Y/N and.........”
It took Katsuki a second before his eyes popped when he finally got it. “No!”
“Yes!” Kirishima said.
“No way! We’re not going to her!” Katsuki complained.
“Who?” Sero asked.
“Nobody!” Katsuki screamed.
“Oh it’s somebody alright! Somebody who was able to tame the beast in Bakugou the second he was born!” Kirishima said.
“Who?” Sero asked. Katsuki finally sighed before he gave in, realizing this was his only hope for sanity. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call before explaining to his dark-haired friend.
“The demon of all demons...”
The door opened to reveal a tall standing brunette and an elder feminine blonde.
“...My mother.”
The boys of the Bakusquad all sat lined up on the couch as Mitsuki stood at Katsuki’s end and smacked her son’s head.
“You idiots! Y/N leaves for 2 days and all hell breaks lose?!” Mitsuki screamed at the 3 young men.
“You old hag! Quit hitting me! Ima’ grown man for crying out loud!” Katsuki screamed as he rubbed his head. Masaru simply bounced the sleeping Katsumi in his arms as he watched the scene play out.
“Well if you’re such a grown man then why can’t you manage your own kids without your wife’s help?!” Mitsuki argued, leaving Katsuki silent as he grumbled. The eldest blonde sighed before continuing. “Alright listen, I’ll watch these little devils for the next few days until Y/N comes back. I’d love to spend some time with my grandbrats. Why don’t the 3 of you go take a break and-“
“THANKS! Let’s go losers!” Katsuki said dragging his friends to the exit. Mitsuki and Masaru only laughed at their son’s behavior as they began tending to the kids.
The boys of the Bakusquad all quickly walked out of the house and headed for their cars as they all walked together.
“So, where to?” Sero asked.
“We could go head up that new resort in Tokyo!” Kaminari suggested.
“Naahhh. That’s where Y/N’s having her girl’s trip. Wifey would kill me if she saw me there instead of at home with the kids.” Katsuki said with his hands in his pockets. Kirishima raised his brow at this.
“Oh? So then, maybe we should go back and-“
“You know, on second thought,” Katsuki said with wide eyes once Kirishima made the suggestion. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them behind his friend’s backs to keep them moving. “Maybe she won’t kill me..if I’m lucky..and wish..upon a shooting star....a million times over. Hah.....yeah. TO THE RESORT!”
As they walked, Kaminari attempted to look at the house once more, prompting Katsuki to turn his friend’s head back around. “No, no, no, don’t look back, they can smell fear.”
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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years
Text
Under The Floorboards pt. IIII
(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V
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Whipping the sweat off your brow you placed the honey jars you collected on the ground, Phil really built this farm efficiently. However, that didn’t stop you needing to collect honey pots here and there, now that the vault was complete you could actually use the honey for normal things. Technoblade would never admit it but he loved when you put honey in his tea, contrary to popular belief he wasn’t a fan of plain black tea or coffee. You rolled up your sleeves and adjusted the sunhat that sat lazily on your head against your better judgment you had left your armor inside. The only thing on your person was a netherite ax Techno had enchanted for you, it was an effective weapon but without your armor, you were a bit of a sitting duck. As the bees buzzed and bumped lazily into each other, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. They were just so silly. You picked up the crate of jars and turned around, your eyes narrowed as you saw some movement by the trees, it was still too early for Tommy and Technoblade to be back...so just who was snooping around the property. You felt very naked in your sun hat and overalls, especially if it was Dream himself that you were about to encounter. Your worry only increased as you noticed four men all in netherite armor walking towards the house, their swords were drawn. You had a feeling that these were the men who took Technoblade the day prior. They were like a little gang all dressed the same way, bloody aprons and all they really had the executioner vibes down. 
    “Hello, gentlemen.” You smiled giving them a wave while you adjusted the box of honey, “beautiful day isn’t it?” 
The first to answer was a man who had a scar from the tip of his eyebrow down to the bottom of his lip. He sent you a smile and you noticed a tooth missing from the upper row, a navy blue beanie held his dark hair in place. 
    “Very beautiful, it’s always a good day when the sun is shining.” He mused the sun in question reflected beautifully across all their netherite armor. The one thing you decided to leave inside, you weren’t intimidated nope not at all. “What’s your name sweetheart?”
    “(Y/N).” You responded with a hum, “Is there something that I can help you all with today?” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed two of the men moved to surround you, they thought they were slick. The only one who didn’t move was the tallest of the children there, he looked to be half Enderman. He also looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now poor thing. Drawing your gaze back to the other three men, you noticed one was Tommy’s age and had small horns atop his head, along with goat-like ears. A burn scar also took up half of his face. It made you frown distastefully, what was with these kids getting traumatized? First Tommy and now the half enderman and the goat kid, you couldn’t adopt all of them, well you could but it’d be a lot of work. The other looked to be part fox after all the big orange ears and the fluffy tail was dead give away, wait didn’t Ghostbur say his son was a fox. “Are you Fundy?” You asked, suddenly tilting your head to the side.
    “How do you know my name?” Fundy’s face flushed a little and he shuffled on his feet, his hand twitching to grab the sword that was at his side. 
    “I talked to your father earlier today. I’m assuming that’s how you found me?” You took the hat off your head and rested it on Carl’s stable. The fox gave a reluctant nod of confirmation you licked your lips and put your hands behind your back. “So? Do you have a problem with Technoblade or just me specifically?”
    “Wow, she’s not even a little bit ashamed.” Quackity mused and you frowned, “We’re here because your boyfriend blew up our country. He also disgraced our President right Tubbo? Don’t know if you’re aware of that or not but he escaped his punishment. So we intend to make him repent.” He walked towards you and you took a step away from him. 
    “That’s far enough thank you.” You held up your hand in hopes it would stop his trek towards you, Quackity did pause for a moment. He let out a chuckle and smiled. He thought your tough attitude was cute, but he was clearly mocking you. 
Jackass. 
    “Quackity maybe we should leave her be...she didn’t do anything.” The young goat kid murmured his ears flicking as he looked up at you. 
    “Quiet Tubbo. Let the adults speak,” Quackity snapped at him before clearing his throat and looking back at you. “Listen (Y/N) was it? We’re going to have to ask that you come with us. If you don’t we’ll have to take you by force.”
    “Wait, couldn't Technoblade have trained her?” The half enderman spoke holding up his finger in the air but no one seemed to pay him any attention. 
    “I guess force it is. Although the fight is a little unfair.” You took out your ax and twirled it in your hand, “Something tells me you don’t exactly like fair fights.” Fundy took a hesitant step backward not really wanting to lose a life for this of all things, but he pulled out his sword just in case. Clicking your tongue in distaste you sent a bloodthirsty smile their way, one that rivaled Technoblade, “Come at me.” 
Without hesitation, Quackity charged at you with his sword he didn’t aim to kill, just disarm or injure. You blocked the swing with the wooden part of your ax and spun around just in time to dodge an attack from Tubbo. You managed to elbow him in the back and he stumbled forward into Quackity, the man made a grunting sound before shoving Tubbo off of him and into the snow. Fundy moved next and managed to land a hit on the side of your arm, you hissed loudly glaring daggers at the fox. His ears pressed against his head and he let out a small whimper, “sorry!”
    “Don’t apologize to her!” Quackity groaned, “You guys are the worst gang ever.” He slapped his forehead as you readjusted your posture, “I have to do everything myself.” Quackity snarled charging at you again you sidestepped out of the way. As he stumbled trying to regain himself he knocked over the honey pots and they shattered against the ground. You swung your ax and managed to land a hit on him in the back of the legs, he let out a strangled yelp and fell on his face into the snow like Tubbo had done earlier. Yanking out the ax out of the leader of the gang blood splattered all over the ground and stained the snow. Little red beads dripped off the ax as you held it by your side, the man only let out another scream as it was torn out of him. 
    “Back. Off.” You repeated again baring your teeth with a hiss, “Turn around and go back to L’manburg and I won’t kill you. Got it.”  The ax was pointed at all of them, you saw the half enderman nod vigorously, 
    “Yes ma’am.” He nodded rapidly grabbing Tubbo and Fundy by the arm and pulled them back, the three of them watched as Quackity snarled and backed up to join them. You watched them cower and you dropped your ax on the ground so you could press the palm of your hand into the wound on your arm. You quickly turned and ran back into your home to collect bandages and fix yourself up, blood speckled the floor as you made your way into the bathroom. You tore off your overalls and shirt, washing out the wound before wrapping your arm in bandages. You didn’t know how long you stood there in front of the mirror but you looked worse for wear. 
Technoblade was going to lose his shit.
---
All Technoblade could think about on their way back to his retirement home, was you. He could only put up with Tommy for so many hours until he needed to talk to literally anyone else. He was ready to get your relaxing date night underway; he could already feel your fingers running through his hair braiding his as you went. He hummed fondly listening as the voices called him simp repeatedly, he didn’t mind this time considering he was when it came to you. 
    “That’s still cringe chat.” He murmured to himself as Tommy continued to scream about something in the background, “Yeah, yeah I love her.” He heard the chat flip their shit and he fondly chuckled, intermixed with their happy cries there was a distinct sound of ‘E’ as well as ‘nerd.’ He almost didn’t hear Tommy’s worried shouting. He frowned and rolled his eyes back into his skull, 
    “What Tommy?” 
    “Technoblade! Technoblade!” The teen bumped back into him, Technoblade grunted and looked down at him. He followed Tommy’s eyes and spotted the blood littered snow outside his house. Technoblade paused and his vision went red around the edges, his eyes stayed trained on the bloodstains as the voices began to roar within his skull. His head shot up and he saw the honey box spilled over on the ground, glass littered the snow, your hat hanging loosely on Carl’s old stable. 
     “T-Technoblade.” Tommy stuttered again looking up at the pig-man, seeing how glazed over his eyes looked. He swore steam was coming out of Technoblade’s nose and his hand drew out his pickaxe gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt his tusks grow in size and his face began to shift into his pig form. Tommy’s voice was drowned out by the flood that was the voices in his head: 
‘SHE’S GONE. THEY HAVE HER. KILL THEM ALL. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. WE DEMAND BLOOD. E. SAVE HER. YOU’RE A FAILURE. YOU DIDN’T PROTECT HER. SLAUGHTER ALL OF THEM. SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. SHE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’ 
Technoblade took a step forward to which Tommy rapidly backed up in response. He’s never seen Techno this gone before, oh shit he has it bad for (Y/N). However, Tommy didn’t make a move to stop Technoblade; he didn’t want him to release that rage on him. Technoblade walked into the house, stepping on his glasses that fell off his face. He threw his door open with a loud slam, he needed potions and he needed a new sword. 
Whoever did this all their cannon lives were gone he’d make it long and torturous.
A soft voice broke him out of his stupor his entire body went rigid. 
    “Bubs…” He slowly turned around and came face to face with you, you looked so small, so delicate standing in the doorway. You were wearing your pajamas, soft blue with little sheep all over them. His ears twitched and his shoulders softened considerably seeing you standing safe in the doorway, however, he tensed again the minute he saw the bandages tied around your arm. Blood leaking through them, he growled eyes locking in on the spot as you made soft shushing sounds at him. 
‘SHE’S HURT. SHE’S ALIVE THOUGH. BUT SHE’S HURT, THEY NEED TO PAY. ATONE FOR WHAT THEY DID TO HER. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. SPILL THEIR BLOOD THEN MAKE OUT WITH HER. SHE’LL LOVE YOU MORE IF YOU DO. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’
Technoblade jumped feeling her hand caress his cheek, “Bubs it’s alright I’m okay.” Your voice was smooth and soothing, his eyes dilated as you spoke to him. His face shifting back to normal as he breathed heavily through his nose, “See?” You brought his head down to rest against your chest, it looked uncomfortable the way that he was bending. However, he could feel your heart beating in your chest, he made a soft whimper and grabbed onto your shoulders his pink hair tickled your chin. You brought your hands up to run his fingers through his hair as he finally calmed down enough to ignore the voices for the time being. Right now they were just commenting on how nice and warm her hands were anyway.
    “What happened to you? There was blood everywhere I was so scared.” His voice broke a little bit as he pulled away from you. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest Technoblade had never looked so broken. 
    “The butcher squad came and attacked me. They wanted to use me to get to you but I fought them off just like you taught me.” You couldn’t help but smile proudly at him and he let out a disbelieving laugh. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back as he cradled you gently in his arms, you both stood there rocking back and forth together until Technoblade was satisfied. 
    “That’s my girl.” He finally murmured backing away from you, you flushed at the compliment. Whenever he called you that it made you flush all over, you let out a loud flustered whine and whacked him on the chest. Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression, it was a rare moment the tables were flipped like this and Technoblade was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Princess what’s with that look? Am I, thee Technoblade, making you flustered? I know I’m a lot to handle, I beat Dream once, I never die, I’m not homeless. Guess what?” 
    “What?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he circles you eyeing you up and down. 
    “I’m single.” 
    “Oh really?” You cocked an eyebrow, “I thought you had a girlfriend.” You twirled your hair around your fingers and you felt his strong hands rest on your waist. 
    “Hm I don’t think so. You might need to refresh my memory,” Technoblade mused kissing your neck tenderly. 
    “Well she’s stunningly gorgeous, and tough as nails,” Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned back against him. “She absolutely adores you and how protective you are of her, and how much of a gentle giant you are.” He made a noise of protest and rested his chin on the top of your head. You could tell he was pouting at you, 
    “See, not only is that super cringe but also factually incorrect. I am not a gentle giant, I just committed vast sums of minor terrorism and I also kill orphans so what would my girlfreind say to that huh?” He huffed clicking his tongue distastefully. 
    “She would say that you’re right but also she sees the way you take care of Carl, and how you put up with Tommy. You’re totally brothers. That makes you at least a little bit soft” 
    “Not brothers and I don’t like him.” 
    “Right sure,” You giggled a little and kissed his chin lightly. 
Technoblade let out an indignant sound before muttering, “Oh we should probably tell Tommy you aren’t kidnapped. Also discuss what to do about L’manburg now that they know you exist.” You blocked out that last part and made a beeline outside to find Tommy. The teenager in question was fumbling with his hands over by his cobblestone tower, you ran over to him and engulfed him in a hug. 
    “(Y/N)!” He shouted letting out a disbelieving laugh hugging you back with a childish smile. “You’re okay! Holy fuck I totally thought you were dead and shit! Technoblade was going fucking apeshit! His face went all pig like n’ shit totally thought he was gonna kill everyone for you! Not that I was worried.” He added quickly shoving you away crossing his arms. 
    “Of course you weren’t THE Tommy is never worried.” 
    “Yeah exactly Miss Blade you get me.” You smiled fondly at him and you ruffled his hair and he shouted at you to stop. You did so sensing Technoblade approach the both of you, Techno interlocked your hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. “You chill now Big T?” 
    “I’m always chill Tommy. Only nerds aren’t chill.” He mused with a scoff, “Hence why I always call you a nerd.” 
    “WHAT THE FUCK TECHNOBLADE! I AM ALWAYS CHILL! I’M THE CHILLEST MAN ALIVE I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW!” 
    “Stop shouting,” Technoblade groaned burying his face in your hair as you laughed fondly at their antics. Although L’manburg knew about your existence now, and although you knew Dream probably wasn’t too far behind in learning that knowledge either, you felt everything was going to be okay. 
All you needed was each other, Technoblde, Tommy, Phil and you. Together you four were gonna do great things, you just knew it.
~~~
I do plan on making another part because people seem to be enjoying this story a lot more than I originally thought when I first posted it. Which is amazing thank you for all the love and support! New stuff is also in the works, thanks again for reading and enjoying! Stay safe guys! 🥰✨
1K notes · View notes
taizi · 3 years
Note
Could you write something about natsume getting a hug?? Just, from whoever n for whatever reason. I keep thinking about how no one ever really hugs him n it makes me sad
x
The absolute last person Joji expected to see today was Natsume Takashi.
Joji slows to a stop on the corner of the street, a block away from the train station, and stares shamelessly.
It's been a decade since the last time he saw Natsume, but he recognizes him immediately. Of course he does. His light hair and eyes aside, Joji has thought about him on-and-off since junior high.
Joji remembers that rainy day when he was thirteen, an empty desk in the middle of his eighth grade classroom, Ito leaning over in his chair to whisper, "Did you hear? Natsume was in the ER. He almost died. The police are looking at his foster parents."
It was as if he'd been plunged into a pool of ice water. He sat there, frozen, while their teacher called them to attention for homeroom and announced that Natsume wouldn't be in their class going forward.
What was the last thing Joji had said to him? "It's no wonder your parents didn't want you." Why the hell had he said that? A book, if he remembers right. He'd lent it to Natsume and Natsume gave it back all water-damaged, like he'd gone for a swim with his backpack on. Natsume's eyes were on his hands, on the ruined book, and he'd tried to apologize, said he'd pay for it, but Joji just snatched it away, ticked off.
"This is what I get for trying to help you, I guess. It's no wonder your parents didn't want you."
Joji is almost twenty-four now. He's going into pediatrics. His fiance, Sakura, is a foster parent. She is currently the proud and fiercely protective mother of two beautiful twin girls.
Sora and Miu are terrified of adults and they go everywhere together and sometimes they make up stories. Sometimes they lie, about why their uniforms are torn, why they're home late, why their lunchboxes are covered in dirt. They have this look in their eyes sometimes like they're just waiting to get hurt again.
Sakura has the patience of a saint. She never raises her voice. She stitches their torn uniforms, replaces their lunchboxes, and, on more than one occasion, has marched into their junior high school and threatened the staff with physical violence if her babies come home with bruises one more time.
Needless to say, Sora and Miu adore her. It took them longer to warm up to Joji, but they're there now; no longer flinching when he moves in their direction, greeting him happily when he comes over for breakfast, smiling shyly when he staggers into the apartment underneath the weight of two giant stuffed rabbits that cost nearly half his paycheck, because it's their birthday, Sakura, they need them.
Joji tries to imagine someone telling them "this is why your parents didn't want you" and goes absolutely breathless with rage.
Natsume glances up from his phone to look right at Joji, as if someone had pointed him out. Caught staring, Joji shuffles in place for a moment, and then squares his shoulders and heads over.
He's expecting the Natsume of his memory; he's expecting him to curl his shoulders and duck his head, the way Joji's girls still sometimes do when a stern auntie wants to talk to them.
He's not expecting Natsume to level him with a clear, politely confused gaze. He pockets his phone, and shoves his hands into the front pockets of the cardigan he's wearing; a size too big, like something he borrowed out of someone else's closet, but it's a charming look on him. He's dressed well, in dark-washed jeans and white high-top sneakers, and his silvery hair is long, probably long enough to fall past his shoulders if he didn't have it piled up in a bun. There's a squat calico cat at his feet, glaring up at Joji with judgmental green eyes.
"Can I help you?" Natsume asks kindly. His voice is a shock to the system; Joji remembers him like it was yesterday.
"Oh," Joji says, stymied. It never occurred to him that Natsume might not recognize him in turn. "Um, I'm Watanabe Joji. We were classmates in eighth grade."
"That's right," Natsume says with gratifying quickness. He looks a little embarrassed now and returns Joji's short bow. "Sorry, it's been a long time."
And we weren't exactly friends, he doesn't say, but that common knowledge sits neatly between them.
"Ten years!" Joji replies with some forced enthusiasm. "Is that why you're here?"
"Sorry?"
"The, ah, reunion this weekend? Ito, from our homeroom back then, put together a whole thing. Our whole class is getting together for dinner and drinks."
It occurs to him that Natsume might not have been invited. Joji thinks that's less because he isn't welcome and more because Ito almost certainly didn't have his contact information. The few times his name has come up, Joji's friends have gone quiet and melancholy. A few of them are parents now, or aunts and uncles at least. All of them know better than they did when they were mean, shitty little teenagers.
Joji opens his mouth to assure Natsume that they'd love to have him, but Natsume cuts him off with a laugh.
It's not a mean laugh. It's not unfriendly in the slightest. But it stings anyway, because Natsume is laughing out of pure disbelief.
"No, no," he says, waving a hand, "god, no. Could you imagine?" he adds, glancing down at the cat. The cat huffs, settling a little more solidly against Natsume's ankle. "We're just passing through, actually."
"We?" Joji asks dumbly. Did he mean himself and the cat?
It's Natsume's turn to get cut-off, this time by a long, drawn-out shout of "Takashiiii!"
A short, russet-haired young man around Joji's age comes barreling down the sidewalk toward them at a flat-out run. Joji's first inclination is one of alarm, but Natsume steps forward with his arms outstretched, and the stranger collides with him in an embrace that looks like it hurts.
Natsume is laughing again, but it's softer this time. It's the warmest sound Joji has ever heard him make.
"What's this for?" Natsume is saying, patting him on the back.
"Just missed you," his friend replies.
"You saw him twenty minutes ago, Satoru," comes the exasperated call from further down the road, and Joji glances over to find a small group headed their way, laden with shopping bags.
"Yeah, exactly," Satoru says, leaning back without letting go, just enough to gaze up at Natsume with a cheeky grin. "I'm all Takashi-deficient. It's pretty serious."
"Sounds serious," Natsume replies, and agreeably keeps an arm wrapped around his shoulders as the rest of their group catches up.
A tall, dark-haired man stoops to pick up Natsume's cat, and it settles agreeably in the crook of his arm. The brown-eyed woman beside him lets out a coo, shifting all her bags to one hand so she has one free to scratch it behind the ears.
"We're being rude," the dark-haired man says in a soft, pleasant tone. "Who's this, Takashi?"
Natsume introduces Joji as an old classmate, giving absolutely none of their history away in tone or expression, but somehow all of his friends seem to clue in to something anyway. Their collective demeanor shifts, in an unidentifiable way, even if their polite smiles don't slip an inch as Takashi introduces each of them in turn.
All but Nishimura Satoru, still tucked up against Natsume's side, who gives Joji a positively poisonous look.
"Okay, Satchan, you're going to lose privileges if you can't be nice," Kitamoto says dryly, and extracts him from Natsume's person with a deftness that speaks of years of practice.
"Nooo," Nishimura says, but it's curbed quickly by Shibata shoving a bag at him and snapping, "Carry this! It's that stupid lucky cat statue you just had to have, and it's heavy!"
"It looks just like sensei! Tooru loves it, too!"
"I do," Taki admits.
It's a warm afternoon, right at the end of August, the sky turning golden with the beginnings of dusk. Joji still manages to feel cold.
He grew up, but Natsume did, too. He always regretted what he did, he always wondered if Natsume was okay, wherever he went, but Natsume hasn't seemed to spare him a second thought. He's got his own friends now; bright, kind people who look like they'd raise hell for him. Who run to meet him.
Joji missed the chance to have a place in Natsume's life. He's a footnote, now, and not a very good one.
"Jojojojo!"
The bright voices have him spinning around, forgetting everything else, and he lights up when he spots Sora and Miu waving at him from the other side of the street. Sakura has a firm hold on their jackets so they can't go spilling out into the street until the pedestrian crossing sign lights up, and then she releases them like a couple of eager hunting dogs.
Natsume's friends shuffle to one side politely, and Joji steps forward to catch his girls when they reach him. They're so beautiful and he missed them so much, this weekend they were away to visit Sakura's parents. He kisses them each on the head, and then kisses Sakura on the head in the name of fairness, and it makes all three of them laugh.
Taki coos just like she did with the cat, hands clasped together under her chin.
"What sweet girls!" she says. "Are they yours, Watanabe?"
"Yes," Joji says proudly, putting one arm around each of their shoulders. They've come so far, not hiding behind him from the group of strangers, even if they press into his sides shyly. "This is Miu, and this is Sora. We're adopting them."
Sakura shifts her weight imperceptibly, a barely-there tell. Waiting, he knows, for the surprise, or outright condemnation. She's dealt with a lot of bullshit for taking these kids in, from family and ex-friends and even total strangers. It rolls right off her, and she usually gives as good as she gets, but she hates when Sora and Miu have to hear it. They don't deserve to hear it.
Joji will have to explain it to her, later, why he brought it up. Why he knew it would be safe to bring it up in front of these strangers.
Sure enough, all their faces soften immediately, a gentle transformation. Natsume crouches, gazing at the twins with an expression that Joji remembers from his childhood. The delicate resilience, the willingness to reach out even if he got hurt.
The look on his face ten years ago when he handed back that ruined book, owning up to his mistake and trying to fix it, buying Joji a replacement even after Joji said something unthinking and cruel.
"I was adopted, too," he says.
"Really?" Sora asks quietly.
"Really," Natsume tells her. "My parents died when I was little. I wasn't an easy child to care for, even though it wasn't my fault, so I got passed around a lot. It took me a long time to find my place, but I found it. Did you find yours?"
"I think so," Sora says, glancing around Joji at her sister.
"Me, too," Miu adds.
Sakura clutches Joji's hand hard enough to bruise. She won't cry here and now, but he already knows it's going to be an ice-cream-for-dinner kind of night.
Natsume looks up to meet Joji's eyes when he says, "That's good. I'm glad to hear it."
It's forgiveness. Joji hears it plain as day. He didn't get a chance to ask for it-- isn't sure he deserves it-- but there it is, freely given. And it's reassurance, too.
When Joji's daughters used to curl their shoulders and duck their heads, it would always tug at the memory of a boy he used to know, who was as kind as he was desperate for kindness.
Now, he thinks, when his girls are making a mess of the kitchen trying to follow a pancake recipe with their friends, or dragging a stray cat inside with big, hopeful eyes, it'll remind him of this afternoon. Natsume's clear, bright eyes, and the protective cluster of friends surrounding him.
The world wasn't fair to him; it left a mountain in his life that he had to climb, complete with all its pitfalls and crumbling paths and bad weather.
And here he is on the other side, goodness intact. Smiling. Loved.
He found his place. Sora and Miu found theirs.
And god, if that doesn't give Joji hope for everyone else.
"It was nice to see you," he says thickly, hoping Natsume hears his honesty. "Don't come to the reunion, that was-- a stupid thing to say, but-- would you-- dinner?"
Natsume hears it. He tilts his head, considering, and then says, "We missed our train, anyway."
"And I'm starving," Tanuma says agreeably. Clearly, he says it more to agree with Natsume than anything.
Nishimura is the hardest sell, watching Joji with hard eyes. But then his gaze dips to Sora and Miu, and all his sharp edges go soft, like butter melting in the sun. After a handful of tense seconds, he visibly gives up on his anger with a huff. His friends, watching patiently, all give absurd little cheers when it's clear he's on board.
"Fine, but if you live farther than three feet away, we're getting an Uber," Shibata threatens, rustling the shopping bags in his hands with annoyed fervor.
They drift in the direction of Joji's home, and Kitamoto talks Shibata down from the Uber with the promise of ducking into a 7-Eleven for ice creams instead, and Taki and Sakura are fast friends, rolling their sleeves up to compare tattoos-- Taki's is a strange, occult-looking circle that Joji makes a mental note to ask about-- and Tanuma lets Sora carry the fat cat, while Miu pets it with reverent fingers.
Natsume walks beside Joji, calm and unhurried, with Nishimura on his other side. He grew up with so much grace.
"Can I add you to the class groupchat?" he asks without thinking.
"Good luck with that," Nishimura butts in, not unkindly. "He's the most unreliable texter you've ever met. He left me on read for like two days once, and we live together."
"You'd have better luck with an email," Natsume says apologetically.
It's more than Joji thought he'd get; they exchange contact information, in the middle of this chaotic, noisy group making its way down the street toward the well-lit combini on the corner and then, beyond that, home.
Natsume doesn't seem to have any interest in reconnecting with his old classmates, and Joji doesn't blame him for that. Even though it will certainly piss Ito off to be kept in the dark, even just for a few days, Joji decides it's for the best.
Nishimura's goodwill can't be stretched that far.
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Note
JGY and NMJ post-canon, as fierce corpses sealed up together in that coffin (as per novel), get freed from the coffin and go to Cloud Recesses on Baxia because NMJ is fed with having that little snake around all the time.
ao3
“I can’t believe you actually managed to get us out of there,” Jin Guangyao said when they reached air again.
“I can’t believe you’re still talking,” Nie Mingjue growled, his voice still raspy from the whole decapitated head business, which he was still taking far too personally in Jin Guangyao’s opinion. He’d already been dead at the time! It wasn’t like Jin Guangyao had caused him any additional pain by the dismemberment!
Anyway, Nie Mingjue had unexpectedly turned into a terrifyingly powerful fierce corpse – contrary to everything that should have happened, did he just skip the whole soul-calming rituals that all children of the gentry were supposedly getting? – and there had simply been no other alternative that would keep him from murdering Jin Guangyao right then and there.
Possibly, Jin Guangyao allowed, that was the problem Nie Mingjue had with it.
“Aren’t you tired? You’ve done nothing but talk since we got stuck in there!”
“It’s my finest talent –”
“Lying and deceit are your finest talents.”
“And those require talking!”
Nie Mingjue shoved Jin Guangyao as he tried to climb out of the coffin. He tried to catch himself with one hand, forgot that he didn’t have that arm anymore, and tumbled to the ground.
If it wasn’t for the fact that they’d realized some time ago that their sentience depended on regularly interacting with each other, and that without regular conversation they would both begin to lose their minds and revert to ravening beasts, Jin Guangyao swore that he would have murdered Nie Mingjue and torn apart his body a second time over.
“I should’ve ripped off your tongue instead of your arm,” Nie Mingjue complained. “I’d have had a happier afterlife if I did.”
“Too late now,” Jin Guangyao grumbled, getting up. It was very strange, being a fierce corpse. “I liked you better when you were wholly consumed with rage – oh, wait, that’s what you’ve been like the entire time I’ve known you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you, too.”
The prohibition on the coffin had been broken, but there was still one around the ruined temple to keep people out and evil creatures, a category currently including the two of them, although Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue would argue that Jin Guangyao had always been included in that category. He might even be right, who knew? 
At any rate, they needed to break the prohibition to get out. Jin Guangyao tossed himself down on the ground to wait while Nie Mingjue examined it.
“Why did you start talking?” he asked idly. “I’ve always wondered. When I died, you were completely mindless.”
“Who knows?” Nie Mingjue said distractedly. “Maybe all you need for sentience is to marinate in rage for long enough.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why? Works for the sabers.”
Jin Guangyao opened his mouth, then found he had nothing to say. He supposed that it did.
“Why did you always have so much rage, anyway?” he complained. “I understand the bit about your father being murdered, and of course your stupid cultivation style encourages it, but you always seemed especially irritated about everything.”
Nie Mingjue huffed. “You remember that I’m misaligned, right?”
“So what? Being misaligned makes you more of a shithead?”
“No, dealing with your father made me more of a shithead.”
Jin Guangyao considered the practicalities of having to deal with his father while possessing a physically female body and shuddered. It really wasn’t worth considering, especially since Lanling Jin did not believe in or especially respect Qinghe Nie’s tradition of misaligned souls. “Wait,” he said a moment later. “He knew? Why did he know?! I didn’t know, and I worked for you for years!”
“You worked for me as an adult, you dolt. He met me when I was still young.”
Jin Guangyao thought about it, then grimaced. “I can’t even imagine you as a little girl.”
“That’s because I wasn’t.”
“…I wish you’d have told me,” Jin Guangyao picked at the fraying hem of his robes.
“Why? Would you be less likely to murder me if you knew? Or was it just to spare yourself the unpleasant shock you received when you were dismembering my corpse?”
Jin Guangyao considered it. “Mostly the latter.”
“Good. If you’d said it was the former, I’d take my chances with insanity.”
Jin Guangyao rolled his eyes, then frowned. “Did he ever…?”
“Ever..? Wait, what? No!” Nie Mingjue turned to stare at him, looking scandalized – which was not an expression one really expected to see on a fierce corpse. “Why would you even ask that?”
Jin Guangyao shrugged. “Seemed reasonable, given everything else he did.”
“No,” Nie Mingjue grimaced. “He just thought I was a freak, and it seemed to especially irritate him when I didn’t just submit to whatever he wanted, that’s all. Nothing over the top...still, you clearly know what he was like. This was the man you were so desperate for the approval for?”
“I figured it out eventually,” Jin Guangyao grumbled. “Anyway, who are you to talk about father issues? You, with the whole you-killed-my-father obsession?”
“He did kill my father.”
“Big deal! So did I!” He paused. “Kill my father, that is. Not yours.”
“Did you?” Nie Mingjue snorted. “My desire to kill you went down one notch.”
“It did?”
“From several tens of thousands, but yes.”
Jin Guangyao drummed his fingers on his knee thoughtfully. “Can I kill other people to make it keep going down?”
“The fact that you even asked that made it go back up.”
Useless. Nie Mingjue was just completely useless.
“How long will it take you to get out of this one?” he asked instead, changing the subject. “I’d like to get to the Cloud Recesses to see Lan Xichen before, you know, he dies of old age.”
“Would you like to break through this array?” Nie Mingjue growled.
Lan Xichen had always been very fond of communication. He sincerely believed that almost all the problems in the world were due to miscommunication, that the vast majority of the time people just needed to meet in the middle and talk things over and that they would be able to solve almost everything to their mutual satisfaction.
Communication, Jin Guangyao decided, had not helped things one bit.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to say?” Nie Mingjue asked, poking at one part of the array and not looking at Jin Guangyao in a way that had to be deliberate.
“Say?” Jin Guangyao asked. “When?”
“When we get to the Cloud Recesses. What you’ll say to Xichen.”
Jin Guangyao had thought a lot about that. “It depends,” he hedged. “I mean, what I say to him, there’s a lot of factors – for instance, will you be there?”
“Would you prefer to talk to him as mindless fierce corpse slavering for his blood?”
Jin Guangyao grimaced. “I’m still thinking about it, then.”
“Well, think fast, then. I found a gap.”
“Good!” Jin Guangyao scrambled to his feet. “That was fast. How do we break it?”
“It’s impossible to break from the inside.”
“…you couldn’t have told me that before I got up?!”
“You don’t even have muscles anymore,” Nie Mingjue complained. “Your entire body is powered by resentful energy. Why are you still whining?”
Jin Guangyao wished he had a second arm so that he could cross them over his chest and glare. Or put them on his hips and glare. Or even just use them to make a rude gesture more easily done with two hands. “Are we trapped here forever or not?”
“It can be broken from the outside,” Nie Mingjue clarified, rolling his eyes. “I’ll summon Baxia to break it, and then we can use her to fly to the Cloud Recesses.”
“Fine.” Jin Guangyao frowned. “Wait, won’t that alert Huaisang that we’re back?”
“Probably.”
“He’ll boil me alive!”
“Only pieces of you, probably,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding far too smug about the idea. “As long as he knows that I need some of you alive. Maybe I should be the one to keep your head in my closet, this time?”
“It was a treasure room. I didn’t keep you in a closet.”
“It was a fucking closet.”
“It wasn’t. It was in a mirror and everything, it’s much more sophisticated.”
“You’re the guy that had a murder closet. Accept it.”
“I refuse to be the guy with the murder closet. Anyway, you can’t let him boil me alive, you don’t know what’ll happen if you let him do that.” He thought about it, and specifically about Nie Mingjue’s prioritization between risk and reward. “Please don’t let Huaisang boil me alive.”
“I’ll consider speaking in your favor if you stop being so annoying.”
“On second thought, I don’t have nerves anymore and can’t feel pain. Bring on the boil.”
“Are we really going to have to do this for the rest of our lives?” Nie Mingjue wondered, sounding depressed.
“For the rest of eternity,” Jin Guangyao said, equally grim. “That’s why we have to get to er-ge in time to convince him to cultivate to immortality. If I had to wait alone with you until he reincarnates, I’ll go insane.”
“You’re already insane.”
“I’ll lose the ability to stop talking.”
“…Xichen cultivating to immortality it is.” Nie Mingjue thought about it. “Do you think we could convince Huaisang to…?”
“No,” Jin Guangyao said. “You couldn’t get him to cultivate to competent; who could get him to cultivate to immortality?”
The answer to that, as they discovered when they arrived at the Cloud Recesses, was apparently Lan Xichen.
“Did I need to know this?” Jin Guangyao complained, unable to believe that he’d returned from the dead as a fierce corpse and managed to regain his sanity and even work with Nie Mingjue to get to the Cloud Recesses in order to apologize to his sworn brother for all the wrongs he’d done to him, only to be stuck waiting outside in the rain while said sworn brother finished banging his other sworn brother’s little brother. “I didn’t need to know this.”
“Shut up,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m practicing meditation in order to block out sound from my ears. Maybe I should remove my head again? Do you think that would help?”
“Nothing will help,” Jin Guangyao said as another set of enthusiastic shouting emerged through the too-thing walls. “Ever. My mind is scarred permanently.”
“Maybe that’ll improve it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you, too.”
They stood in silence for a little while, the only sounds the howling of the wind and also the howling from inside the room.
“…how long do you think it’ll take for them to finish and notice we’re here?” Jin Guangyao considered. “Maybe we could throw rocks?”
“It took five years for us to get out of that coffin,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can wait five minutes for them to finish.”
“It’d be funny if we threw rocks and then appeared in the window, dark figures silhouetted by lightning. Like in those scary puppet plays. They might never have sex again.”
“I value my brother’s happiness over your petty desire to ruin his sex life,” Nie Mingjue said, then grimaced at a particularly loud yowl. “As tempting as the thought might be.”
“We’ll wait, then,” Jin Guangyao said. “And then we’re all going to have some words.”
“Of course we are. Because you don’t shut up.”
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nerdzzone · 3 years
Text
Once Bitten - Twice Shy
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Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.
One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.
Chris Evans x OFC
Part One
----
Part Two
25.12.19
When I woke up in the morning, it took me a moment to figure out where I was and why the pillow my head was resting on was so hard and warm. Once I'd figured it out - that my head was not actually on a pillow, but on Chris' chest - I almost had to roll my eyes. Of course it was. Of course we'd ended up all cuddled together. Because life was just one big romantic comedy, right?
I sighed quietly, silently praying that Chris wasn't awake yet as I slowly slid myself away from him. He didn't stir until I was sitting on the edge of the bed so I was hopeful that he hadn't been aware of the position we were in.
"G'morning," he greeted me, rubbing his eyes as the sound of excited children echoed down the hallway. "What time is it?"
I quickly checked my phone on the nightstand before answering.
"Only seven o'clock," I told him before yawning. "But it sounds like everyone is up and bouncing off the walls already."
"I'm not surprised," Chris smiled. "They've probably torn into all the presents by now."
I laughed and nodded my head, knowing it was a good possibility.
"It probably wasn't super smart to leave Scott out there guarding them by himself," I pointed out. "Not after he spent half the night shaking his own presents trying to guess what was inside."
"Oh, it definitely wasn't," Chris agreed. "He was always the one who ruined things by finding his presents early and getting us all in trouble."
"Well, I should go see what they're up to or if anything can be salvaged," I smiled as I pulled a sweater on over my pyjamas. "Are you coming?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he assured me. I headed to the door, but stopped when I heard his voice again. "Hey, Whitney? Merry Christmas."
I smiled even wider as that happy, familiar Christmas morning feeling washed over me.
"Merry Christmas, Chris."
With that, I hurried out the door, trying not to focus too much on how content I felt and how right it seemed to wake up in his arms on Christmas morning.
-
When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see that everyone else was already awake, despite how early it was.
"Good morning," Lisa greeted me as I wandered into the kitchen where all the adults were congregating. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, everyone," I smiled before they all repeated it back to me. "Did I miss all the fun?"
"No, of course not," Carly assured me. "We've managed to keep them away from the presents so far, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."
"We're still waiting for Chris though," Scott pointed out as I grabbed a clean mug and headed to the fresh pot of coffee on the counter. "Have you seen him? He disappeared not long after we went to bed and never came back."
"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," I answered mindlessly as I filled my mug. "We ended up sleeping together last night."
I heard Scott almost choke on his coffee and noticed the sudden silence in the room, but it wasn't until Lisa spoke that I realized what I'd said.
"Whitney, honey," she said, speaking softly. "What do you mean?"
"Oh my god, no! Not like that!" I rushed to explain as my cheeks grew hot. "We literally slept together, like as in slept next to each other. Chris came into his room looking for a sweater because he was cold and had given away all his spare blankets so I offered for him to share the bed with me. That's all, I swear."
There were knowing smiles amongst the group and I wasn't entirely sure that they all believed me which made things even more embarrassing as I wouldn't want them to think I'd talk so candidly about things like that with Chris' mother of all people. Before I had a chance to continue desperately defending myself though, a voice from the doorway interrupted.
"What are you swearing about?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "Why do I feel like I missed something good?"
Again, I was ready to explain, but someone beat me to it.
"Whitney was just giving us the update," Scott informed his older brother as he matched his smirk. "She was telling us how you two slept together."
Chris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he relaxed and let out a chuckle.
"Well, that's not exactly how I would have phrased it," he informed the group with a shrug. "But I suppose it is accurate. We slept and we were together."
"I just misspoke," I groaned. "I haven't had any coffee yet, I wasn't thinking clearly."
"A little Freudian slip?" Carly suggested as she joined in on the teasing, but I simply rolled my eyes.
"Chris probably wishes that was a peak into my subconscious desires, but I'm afraid not. Just a clear sign that I am not a morning person."
"I think we'll all need plenty of coffee to deal with the energy in that living room," Lisa interjected, putting an end to the discussion despite Chris' protests of my claim. "But we should probably go and join them before they open all the presents, whether they belong to them or not."
We all murmured in agreement and everyone topped up whatever beverage they were drinking before we headed to the living room to start the Christmas fun.
-
"Mama!" Grayson shouted as we entered the room. "Look! Santa came!"
"Of course he did," I smiled at the children. "You've all been good this year so it's no surprise."
They all nodded and agreed enthusiastically except Ethan who, now that he was almost ten, had figured out the truth. He was a good kid though and a loving older brother so he kept the secret, quietly watching them with a knowing smile now that he was finally in on the joke with the adults.
"Can we open them?" Stella asked, bouncing up and down from holding in her excitement. "We've been waiting for so long!"
"I wouldn't say so long," Scott chuckled. "Since it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet!"
"But, yes, you can open them," Carly informed her children. "Just be careful and don't rush."
There was a flurry of activity as the kids dove into the presents, organizing whose was whose before settling down next to their little piles. I took a step back and sat on the couch next to Lisa, letting Chris sit on the floor behind Grayson. It was his Christmas after all and it felt right that he should be the one helping him open presents. Plus, this way I got a perfect view of the joyful grin that was plastered on his face. A grin that was perfectly replicated by his father behind him making my heart clench at the sight of them together like this.
I watched from my spot on the couch as the gifts were opened one by one and soaked in every giggle and shriek of glee from the children. Grayson was on top of the world and so grateful for each and every gift, it was delightful to see. Given our financial security, especially for Chris, it would have been easy to spoil him, but it made me incredibly proud to see how gracious he was.
However, one of the last gifts he wasn't so grateful to receive. It was from me and I knew there was a chance it wouldn't be his favourite, but his response was far worse than I could have imagined.
It was a decent sized box and he tore off the wrapping paper eagerly, intrigued by what could be inside. When he revealed that it was a foot and a half tall electronic T-Rex, his first reaction was one of amazement.
"Wow! A dinosaur!"
"Yeah," I smiled. "Take him out and see what he can do."
Chris set to work helping Grayson open the box before glancing up at me.
"Does he need batteries?"
"I put some in already," I assured him. "I knew he'd want to see it right away so I thought it would be easier."
He nodded as Grayson placed the giant T-Rex on the floor and looked at me expectantly.
"There's a button on his back, press it."
Everyone watched as he poked around until he got the right spot and the dinosaur came to life. He roared and his head moved around, but as the older kids cheered and clapped, Grayson burst into tears.
"Oh, dear..." Lisa smiled as she watched her grandson leap into his father's arms.
Everyone was chuckling at his dramatic reaction as Grayson buried his face in Chris' neck.
"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry!" I apologized. "Did it scare you?"
"Yes! He's scary!" Grayson's response was muffled by Chris' body and hard to understand through his sobs. "I don't wike it, Mama!"
I smiled at the little speech impediment that he inherited from his father - much like the one his cousin, Miles, had - but I did feel bad for how genuinely afraid he was.
"I'm sorry, baby. We can take the batteries out, okay? Then he won't be able to move."
The dinosaur had stopped moving on his own before I spoke and Grayson moved his head from where he was hiding his face, nodding as he did so.
"Yes, please."
"I bought it a while ago, thinking it was the perfect gift and then last week, he suddenly decided that T-Rexes were mean and I thought it might not go down so well," I admitted to the adults as I stretched forward to pick up the dinosaur and take the batteries out. "It's such a shame though, I think he's adorable. If you press the button on his tail, a little song plays and he does a little wiggle dance."
Chris smirked at me as he rubbed our still sniffling son's back.
"Why don't you take him home? Sounds like you might enjoy playing with him when Grayson isn't around."
He was making fun of me, I knew he was, but I didn't take the bait.
"You know what? I might just do that."
Chris opened his mouth to most likely make another teasing comment, but Ethan interrupted him.
"If Grayson doesn't want the T-Rex, can I have it?"
"I think you got enough new toys this morning," Ethan's dad warned him. "Don't be greedy."
"We'll let Grayson keep him for now," Chris agreed. "He might get used to him after a while if he plays with him without the batteries."
I passed the toy in question back to Chris and Grayson cowered away, whimpering against his dad's chest.
"Just leave it for now," I suggested. "We can try it again later when the initial shock has worn off."
Chris nodded and put the dinosaur behind his back and out of sight.
-
The rest of the gift opening went by smoothly and no more children were traumatized. Once every gift that was under the tree had been opened, we left the kids to test out their new things while the adults headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was quickly decided that pancakes would be the easiest thing to mass produce for our large group of hungry people and while Lisa, Carly and I started mixing up a few bowls of batter, Chris and Scott whipped out the orange juice and champagne for mimosas.
An hour later everyone was very full and we were two bottles of champagne down.
"So, Whitney," Scott started as he loaded up the dishwasher. "Are you staying here tonight too or are you planning on making us spend half the day shovelling the driveway for you?"
His tone was teasing, but as I looked out the window at the deep blanket of snow that covered the ground outside, I was torn. I didn't want to outstay my welcome by staying another night, but I also didn't want to make the Evans family spend their entire Christmas day shovelling snow and there was no way that I'd be able to do it by myself.
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I wasn't planning on staying another night, but it does look like there's a lot of snow out there..."
"Just stay," Chris shrugged. "Even if we can get your car down the driveway, the roads are probably terrible."
"There's no need for you to rush off," Lisa agreed. "Stay another night and then you can just relax and enjoy the day."
"And you can drink if you're not driving home," Scott pointed out with a grin. "Chris and I stocked up on wine, beer, whiskey and gin, these mimosas were just the start of the party."
I couldn't help, but laugh at Scott's reasoning as I nodded my head.
"Alright, I'll stay. If you really don't mind, Chris?"
"Of course not," Chris assured me. "We're happy to have you."
"Great!" Scott grinned. "I'm glad that's settled, I think this calls for another round of drinks!"
Chris cheered and jumped up to help him while the rest of us smiled and shook our heads at their antics.
-
The day was spent soaking in quality family time, watching the kids enjoy their new toys and indulging in lots of food and drink. We called Chris' dad and my parents and even had an unexpected phone call from my Uncle Rob. He spent more time talking to Chris than me, his own niece, but it was nice to hear his voice even if he made sure to get a dig in about me confessing my supposedly obvious feelings to Chris.
Sitting around the table, eating a delicious meal with Chris' loving and welcoming family was quite a contrast to how I expected to spend the day and I was very grateful that Chris had included me. Grayson seemed to appreciate it too and he made his enjoyment clear as we tucked him into bed once all the fun and feasting was done.
Chris sat on the floor leaning against Grayson's nightstand, reading him his favourite bedtime story while I laid on the bed next to him and rubbed his back. He was drifting off by the time the story was finished, but he was fighting it desperately as he spoke again.
"I'm happy, Mama," he told us, his words muffled as he nuzzled into his pillow.
Chris put his hand over his heart as he mouthed an 'awe' at me and I smiled.
"You're happy?" I clarified quietly, my smile growing as he nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, baby."
"I like that you're here," he mumbled. "Daddy should come home with us too."
My heart clenched at that request as my smile faltered. I knew it was only a matter of time until Grayson paid more attention to the fact that his time was divided between two homes, but I wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.
"Maybe Daddy could come for a sleepover sometime," I suggested, stroking his hair back out of his face, but that wasn't all he wanted.
"He should come all the time."
I was never great at hiding my emotions and from the way Chris was watching me, I assumed my distress at Grayson's comments was written all over my face and I was grateful when he jumped into the conversation.
"But what about Dodger?"
Dodger's ears perked up from his spot at the end of the bed, but he settled again when he realized that Chris wasn't calling for him.
"He can come too," was Grayson's answer to that dilemma, but Chris had a response at the ready.
"C'mon, you think Dodger would have enough space in your Ma's apartment?" He asked. "He needs a big house like this to run around in!"
So then we could all just stay here would be the logical comeback to that, but it seemed our sleepy little guy was too tuckered out from the excitement to argue. He let out a little sigh of defeat, but said no more. We stayed quiet for a few minutes until his breathing shifted and he was soundly asleep.
Chris offered me his hand to help me climb over Grayson without waking him up and, after whispering a quiet request to Dodger to keep our boy safe, he led me out of the room.
"You okay?"
The question came as soon as Grayson's door was pulled to and we were in the hallway.
"Yeah, of course," I nodded, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Chris shot me a look that clearly showed his disbelief.
"You looked pretty downhearted in there."
"I just worry," I shrugged. "I don't want our situation to upset him and I know he's going to notice it more as he gets older."
"He'll be fine," Chris assured me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. "He's got so much love in his life, he won't even notice that his family is a little different."
I wasn't convinced. He was obviously already noticing or he wouldn't have questioned it only moments before. I didn't want to start such a delicate, potentially tense conversation at the end of such a happy day though so I forced a more convincing smile onto my face.
"You're right," I agreed. "But I wouldn't be a mom if I didn't worry."
"Well, there's no time for worryin' on Christmas!" Chris claimed, followed by a grin as he dragged me off towards the kitchen. "What can I get you? Another wine? Maybe some gin? I might have some tequila kickin' around here somewhere..."
"No! No tequila!" I laughed. "Gin would be great, thanks."
Chris nodded and set to work mixing our beverages for the evening before we went to the living room to rejoin his family and I did my best to push any worries about letting Grayson down out of my mind.
-
After the kids were all in bed, the rest of the evening was spent playing games and sharing drinks. It was heartwarming, wholesome family fun and I was so glad that Scott had encouraged me to stay as the thought of rushing home to my cold, empty apartment wasn't at all appealing.
The only strange thing about the evening was Chris. We were teamed up for most of the games and it was quite amazing how in tune with each other we were as we won everything by a landslide. We'd been friends for a long time and knew each other very well so it was unsurprising to me that we had so much success, but the teasing comments that came from a rather drunk Scott implied other reasons than friendship for our harmony. I scoffed and rolled my eyes every time he cracked a joke about us, but Chris seemed to love it. He was a few drinks in and probably just feeling a little goofy, but the grin on his face after every suggestive comment sparked an odd feeling in my stomach.
It was around ten o'clock when everyone except Chris, Scott and I decided to go to bed. We bid them goodnight and Chris went to top up our drinks before settling back onto the couch beside me. By this time, I was definitely feeling it. I wasn't drunk, but I knew this drink would have to be my last as the flush of my cheeks and the happy, fuzzy feeling in my brain was telling me that it was time to wind it down for the night.
However, as Chris handed me another gin and soda, settled on the couch next to me, placed his drink on the end table beside him and pulled my feet into his lap, my mind suddenly felt surprisingly sharp.
"What are you doing?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips.
"Releasing some tension."
As he answered, he began a slow massage of my left foot and I couldn't help, but smile at how wonderful it felt.
"Releasing?" Scott snorted a laugh. "Sure, a foot rub is known for getting rid of tension, not making it worse."
Chris smirked at what Scott was insinuating, but seemed unbothered by it.
"Don't be jealous," he teased, but now it was my turn to smirk.
"Of what?" I questioned. "This foot rub? It's not that great, Scott."
Scott laughed as Chris gasped a tad over dramatically.
"Not that great? I offer you a free foot rub and you can't even be fuckin' grateful?"
Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really offended. He did stop massaging my feet though and I whined in protest as he picked up his drink.
"A mediocre foot rub is better than nothing," I pouted. "Keep going."
Chris sipped his whiskey, the smile on his face morphing back into a smirk as he shook his head again, but he did let his hand rest over my ankles and I was happy for even that tiny bit of contact.
Scott changed the subject to some viral video he saw the other day and Chris laughed and chatted along as he absentmindedly let his hand drift up my shin, underneath the loose pyjama pants that I'd changed into shortly after we put Grayson to bed.
My mind was instantly taken back to another time when we'd shared such gentle touches. A time when his lips followed his fingers as they traced kisses up from my ankle all the way to the lacy edge of my underwear. A time when he'd then proceeded to pull that underwear off with his teeth before returning his face back to a very sensitive area.
"Whitney, have you seen it?"
Scott's question snapped me out of my racy daydream. I felt my cheeks flush with colour as I forced my gaze away from Chris' hand over to Scott, reminding myself that even though the look on Chris' face would make it seem otherwise, he couldn't possibly know what I was just thinking of.
"Uh, no, I haven't," I admitted, sipping my drink to try to cool myself down even though it was becoming apparent to me that I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption. "All I seem to watch these days is Paw Patrol."
Chris barked out a laugh and nodded.
"So much Paw Patrol," he agreed. "The kid's obsessed."
"Chase is on the case!" I giggled before changing my voice slightly. "Rubble on the double!"
"Oh my god," Scott laughed, a horrified look on his face. "We need to get you out more."
I shrugged as Chris continued to trace patterns on my shins.
"That's the life of a mom."
"Yeah, but what about when he's with Chris? You must have some sort of life then."
"Scott."
Chris' voice was harsh and warning as what Scott was implying could be taken as offensive, but I wasn't bothered.
"It's fine," I assured him. "I know I'm lame. I don't have much of my own life, I don't really know anyone around here."
"You have Allison," Chris pointed out. "You've mentioned her a lot. She's your friend, right?"
He was referring to my one and only friend in Massachusetts. She was also a photographer and we'd met at a camera store when I first moved here. She'd asked me a question about a new brand of film and we'd ended up having coffee to exchange tips. She realized quickly that I didn't know many people in town and had taken me under her wing.
"She is," I nodded. "But she has three kids of her own and she's married so she doesn't have weeks where she's child free like I do. We hang out when we can, but usually it's with all the kids, not like quality 'girl time'."
"I didn't know that," Chris frowned. "I'm sorry..."
"Don't feel bad for me." I nudged him with my foot. "I have plenty of friends, they're just in LA. I'm happy here."
"I'll take you out for drinks one day," Scott promised. "Even if you're happy, everyone needs to let their hair down a little bit sometimes."
"That would be fun," I smiled, tossing back the last of my drink. "But for now, I think I've let my hair down enough for today. It's time for me to get to bed before all these drinks go to my head."
I slid my feet off of Chris' lap and slowly stood up as he looked up at me.
"Are you cool if I bunk with you again tonight?"
"Of course," I nodded. "Just sneak in quietly if you two stay up too late."
"I'm ready to crash already," Scott informed us. "So, we won't be up much later."
"Okay. Well, goodnight boys," I waved as I headed towards the door. "Thank you for a lovely day."
They chorused a goodnight back to me before I walked down the hall.
-
I was just coming out of the en suite in Chris' bedroom after brushing my teeth when Chris strolled into the room.
"Hey," I smiled. "Ready for bed already?"
"Scott wasn't lying," he returned my smile. "He was half asleep by the time you made it down the hall."
I laughed as I crawled into bed and settled against the pillows.
"Well, it has been a busy day."
Chris agreed as he grabbed his pyjama pants and headed to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I left it on the nightstand, turned off the lamp on my side of the bed and answered a few text messages from my family, figuring I may as well wait the few minutes it would take Chris to get ready for bed before I attempted to get any sleep. When Chris reappeared, I locked my phone again, put it back on the nightstand and snuggled down under the blankets, trying not to stare too much at his chiselled torso. He wasted no time turning off the lamp on his side as well before slipping in next to me, shivering dramatically as he pulled the blankets up over his chest.
"It's so freakin' cold tonight."
I snorted a laugh, shaking my head even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me until our eyes adjusted to the dark.
"Maybe if you put on a shirt you wouldn't feel it so much."
"Honestly," Chris started, the smirk evident in his tone despite his face still being hidden in shadow. "Usually, I just sleep naked so these pants are for your benefit."
I felt my cheeks flush as the words 'then by all means, take them off' were on the tip of my tongue. I forced them out of my mind as a long forgotten tingle rolled through my body and I focused on answering him.
"My point was that a t-shirt would provide you with extra warmth," I explained. "So, your point that you usually wear less clothing makes no sense."
The bed shifted slightly as Chris chuckled.
"Well, I can think of another thing that could provide some extra warmth."
"What?"
I felt my heart rate pick up, the blood rushing through my ears so fast that I hardly heard myself answer him as I wondered if he could possibly be implying what it seemed like he was implying.
"You." His voice was low, the same seductive tone he'd used all those years ago, and I felt my mouth go dry. "Come give me a cuddle."
For a moment, I thought I was a lot drunker than I'd realized and that I was hallucinating or in some kind of lucid dream, but that thought brought me to a different realization.
"Chris!" I whispered, my tone scolding and accusatory. "You're drunk!"
A burst of laughter came from the other side of the bed and I quickly shushed him, knowing Grayson was asleep in the room above us.
"I'm not drunk, I promise," Chris assured me as his raucous laughter came under control. "I just thought it was worth a shot. It's nice to have a little cuddle with a beautiful woman sometimes."
I felt another flush of heat run through me, but I rolled my eyes and, as I had the night before, I took a pillow and placed it between us, drawing a clear line in the sand even if that hadn't worked out so well the last time.
"Goodnight, Chris."
"Goodnight, Whitney."
I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
I did try. I really, really did.
But after almost ten minutes of thoughts whirring through my head, I knew it was hopeless and I turned back to face Chris. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see well enough to know that he was laying on his back so I carefully moved the pillow that I'd placed between us and slowly slid over towards him. I felt him tense so I knew he was awake, but he didn't question what I was doing so I continued until my head was on his chest and my arm was draped over his stomach. He stayed perfectly still, just long enough for me to start second guessing myself before he shifted slightly to put his arm around me.
We stayed like that, holding each other in silence, and I had to admit that Chris was right. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with. The physical contact was filling a hole in my touch-starved heart and I tried not to think about how fleeting of a moment it was or how things would be back to normal in the light of day. There was a strange ache in my heart at that thought and I knew I needed to get out of my head.
"Chris?" My voice was soft, just in case he'd drifted off in the last few minutes, but when he tightened his grip on me, I knew he was still awake. "Thank you for inviting me today."
"Of course." He squeezed a little tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner."
"It's fine," I assured him, letting my hand lazily trace patterns on his skin. "You're under no obligation, you're allowed your time with Grayson without me."
"It's not about obligation. I'd never want you to spend Christmas alone even if Grayson wasn't in the picture."
"I was really dreading it."
My admission made me feel vulnerable as I'd spent so long trying to pretend that I wasn't bothered by the idea of a lonely holiday, but Chris didn't seem surprised.
"Really?" He questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The crying onto your steering wheel didn't give that away at all."
"Shut up," I mumbled, turning my face into his chest to hide my smile at his teasing. "I'm just trying to express my gratitude for your kindness."
"No gratitude is needed. It's been my pleasure having you here today and Grayson loved it."
He kissed the top of my head after he'd finished speaking and almost reflexively, I found myself stretching up and placing a soft kiss of my own against his collarbone. It felt intimate and the moment hung heavy between us. It felt right to me, but I knew instantly that I'd crossed a line. A comforting kiss on the top of my head was one thing, but what I'd done, kissing his bare chest, was inappropriate. My cheeks burned as I tilted my head up to look at him, meeting his eyes as they looked down at me. His expression was unreadable so I opened my mouth to apologize only to be completely shocked when he pressed his head forward and his lips against mine.
The shock quickly morphed into a feeling that could only be described as euphoria. There was something distantly familiar about the way his mouth moved on mine, but it felt strange and new as it wasn't exactly as I'd remembered - and I had spent more time than I'd want to admit reliving the last time we'd shared a kiss like this.
It wasn't until he pressed his tongue against my lips, in an attempt to deepen the kiss, that I snapped out of my daze.
"Chris, wait," I breathed out as I pulled away and stared up at him, my cheeks now flushed much more from excitement than embarrassment. "We shouldn't do this."
"Says who?"
The little voice in my head telling me that I'm about to ruin everything that we've worked hard to create. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but as he smirked down at me and licked his lips as if he was preparing for what was to come, I found myself incapable of logic and reason.
"Doesn't matter."
Chris hardly had time to acknowledge my answer before I dove back in for another kiss, moving to a more comfortable position as I straddled his waist.
He completely overwhelmed my senses. The inescapable scent of him surrounding me, the feel of his strong body between my thighs and the soft little sighs of enjoyment that he kept making every time our lips parted for us to take a breath. None of it was doing anything to ease the ache that was growing between my legs and my hands gripped into the sheets where they rested just above his shoulders as I pulled back to look down at him. I needed to see his face to remind myself this was really happening and who it was really happening with as it still felt so unreal.
Chris smiled up at me, his lips looking plumper already, and let his hands settle on my hips to keep me steady.
"You okay?"
I nodded and leaned down to peck his lips again before answering.
"I've never been better."
Chris' smile only widened at that confirmation and he moved his hands down to cup my bum, pressing my hips forward and giving me a moment of friction that I'd been desperately craving. I pressed myself up, pulling my upper body away from him as a gasp fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. I was embarrassingly aroused from a few mere minutes of kisses, but it had been a very long time since I'd had any physical contact with a man and my body was already on fire.
I rocked my hips against the toned muscles of his abdomen, soaking in the pleasure that was radiating through me and I was debating whether it would be rude of me to continue until I reached the release that was quickly building inside me. Clearly, Chris was just as intuitive as I remembered as he let out a groan and effortlessly flipped us over so he was on top.
"Not like that," he smirked. "I've been thinking about this for too long, it's not happening like that."
I felt another flush of embarrassment as he could obviously tell what I'd been thinking about doing, but I nodded in agreement.
"But if this is really happening, we need to be quiet," I reminded him. "Everyone's sleeping."
"They're all upstairs, they won't hear," he assured me. "And Scott's on the other side of the house."
He was right, we'd be fine as long as we kept ourselves under control, but it didn't matter anyway as all my doubts disappeared when his lips pressed against my neck. I let my hands slide around his waist, resting on his toned back while his lips continued their trail down my neck and stretched the neck line of my shirt to expose my shoulder. His lips locked onto one spot just above my collarbone, sucking and nipping until I was sure there would be a bruise there in the morning.
"Chris," I gasped out, digging my fingernails into his back. "Don't leave a mark."
He backed off a bit, kissing gently against the now sensitive skin.
"It'll be easy to hide," he assured me. "And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed a few bites here and there..."
He opened his mouth to dig his teeth into my shoulder and an image flashed into my mind. A memory of me, bent over with Chris' thumb on my clit as the two fingers he had inside me stroked a particularly delicate spot. He'd placed a soft kiss on the cheek of my bum before sinking his teeth into my skin, sending me over the edge.
I couldn't help, but moan from the combination of the memory and the sensation of his teeth in my shoulder as my hips pressed up against his. Chris seemed to be spurred on by that action as he ground his hips against mine and quickly let his hands slide down to the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and for a moment I was lost in the bliss of the sensations he was providing, but as my shirt was raised just past my belly button, I froze.
"Wait!"
My voice firm and demanding and he immediately responded, stopping his actions and looking up to meet my eyes.
"What's wrong?"
I bit my bottom lip as I pondered how to voice my concerns. If I didn't say anything, there was a chance that we could get through this without drawing any attention to it, but I couldn't help but think it was better to point it out than have Chris notice on his own.
"I just..." I breathed out, trying to figure out how to articulate my thoughts. "I just look different now."
"What?"
Chris pulled back even further, looking down at me with genuine confusion in his eyes and my cheeks burned as I tried to puzzle out how to explain my feelings in a way that didn't make me look shockingly insecure.
"Since I had Grayson, since the last time we did this," I clarified, my cheeks burning as I brought my flaws to his attention. "I look different. Like, I have stretch marks and my boobs aren't as perky as they used to be."
Even in the dark shadows of the room, I could see Chris' jaw clench as it did when he was annoyed and trying to bite his tongue. Panic flooded through me as I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but his next words astounded me.
"Get outta here," he huffed. "You think I care about that?"
I dropped my gaze to the tattoos on his chest as I regretted ever opening my mouth.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Lots of men probably would."
Chris moved back, slowly sliding his body down, away from mine and I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop him and hold him against me as long as I could, but I was powerless to do anything, but watch. My heart sank, thinking he was going to roll off of me any minute now, but then he stopped. His face was level with my lower stomach and turned his eyes back towards my face.
"This body," he started, placing a kiss on my stomach. "This stomach, these stretch marks." He kissed the faint lines that were now barely visible on my skin despite how vibrant they were in my mind. Then he continued up, lifting my shirt as he went until it was resting above my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill in the air and the anticipation I was feeling. "These boobs." He kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, tracing all the way along until he captured a nipple in his mouth, teasing it briefly with his tongue. "They changed because you gave me my son, the greatest gift you could have given me. I have nothing, but gratitude for that and you're still the most fuckin' beautiful woman I've ever seen."
He was exaggerating. I knew he was exaggerating. He saw and worked with Hollywood's most elite actresses and models, there was no chance that I was even close to the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. But he managed, again, to push all doubts from my mind as his lips set to work, this time focusing on my left nipple while he shifted his weight and freed a hand to stroke and pinch the right.
They were sensitive, they always had been, and the way that Chris was working them right now was almost too much. My head fell back and my hands dropped to the sheets as I tried to focus on enjoying the sensations and not immediately demanding for Chris to move lower, to give me more, to touch me where I wanted to be touched with increasing need. He was always paying attention though and before I even needed to voice my request, he let his mouth slip from my nipple and trail back down my stomach.
He nipped at the skin just above my pyjama pants before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. I tugged my shirt over my head at the same time before laying back against the pillow, completely naked underneath him.
"Beautiful."
He'd muttered the word, almost more to himself than to me, but the sincerity in his voice flooded a new kind of warmth through my body. I tried to push it down, focusing on what we were doing, what this was and all it could be. Because yes, I loved Chris, but this wasn't that. This wasn't making love, this was a simple release of sexual tension. I didn't need my feelings getting in the way and making this complicated or I was going to get myself hurt.
I'd been so lost in my head that I hadn't noticed how my legs had fallen apart for Chris to settle between them or how he'd spread me with his fingers, opening me up for him to enjoy. It wasn't until I felt a slow, gentle lick right over my clit that I snapped back into the moment. With a gasp, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, trying frantically to keep the friction now that it was finally there.
"Easy," Chris warned me, chuckling as he pulled back slightly, earning a whine from me. "We'll get you there, don't worry."
A feeling of desperation was building up inside of me and as he blew gently on the very sensitive parts of me that were in front of him, I was about ready to start begging.
"Please," I whimpered, moving my hand to his hair in case he got any bright ideas about pulling back any further, but I was relieved when he let out a groan and finally gave up on his teasing.
Suddenly I was aware of nothing, but Chris' mouth on me. My back arched as he licked up from the bottom of my core to the top, swirling his tongue around, exploring every little nook and cranny before settling his focus back on my clit. It was like he'd studied me, like he'd committed our previous brief encounter to memory and remembered exactly what I responded to as he licked and sucked with just the right amount of pressure and speed to have me panting as my grip tightened in his hair.
It had only been moments, but I could already feel the pressure building inside me, bubbling closer towards the surface. Chris, as if sensing this, eased off just slightly to slide his tongue a bit lower, pressing it against my entrance, dipping just barely inside, before replacing it with one of his fingers. I felt myself clench at the sensation, my body desperate for relief, desperate for something more inside me and Chris obliged, adding a second finger almost immediately.
"So wet, baby," he hummed, placing a kiss on the inside of my upper thigh.
I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to formulate any kind of response, but Chris didn't bother waiting for one anyway before putting his lips back on my clit. The combination of his fingers and his mouth had me seeing stars and another whimpered plea slipped from my lips as he flicked his tongue against me. He was focused and determined, groaning against me after a particularly sharp tug on his hair when he angled his fingers inside me to find that one particular spot that made me see stars.
He stroked it once. Then twice. And on the third that coil that had been tightening inside me snapped. I covered my mouth with my free hand just in time to bite down and muffle the scream that Chris pulled from me as my hips thrust up towards him and I spasmed around his fingers as I fell over the edge.
Chris coaxed me through it, easing his attentions as I came down from the high I was feeling. He slid his fingers out of me, looking up to meet my eyes before licking them clean. I groaned, feeling myself twitch with arousal at the sight despite my heart still racing from the orgasm I had just had. He flashed me a smirk before crawling up my body and pressing his lips against mine again.
I sighed happily into the kiss, letting my hands slide down his back, just teasing the top of his pants as I reluctantly separated our mouths.
"Take these off."
My tone left little room for argument and Chris looked down at me with a smirk.
"Yes, ma'am."
He lifted his body off of mine just long enough for me to shiver from the loss of the warmth he was providing, but he quickly returned once his pants were discarded. He stayed slightly lower when he returned, turning his attention back to my chest, taking my left nipple in his mouth this time and using his hand to tease the other. My eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but I fought the urge to simply lie back and let him do what he wanted with me. I wanted more, I needed more and I didn't want to wait any longer.
"Chris," I whined. "Please, fuck me."
Looking down, I could see his eyes widen in surprise at my blunt demand. He let his mouth slip off my nipple before giving it one last little nip, just hard enough to make me gasp from the slight twinge of pain.
"As you wish."
He reached down between us, taking a moment to slip his two fingers back inside me. He spread them out, gently stretching me and I was grateful. From my memory, Chris was thick and it had been approximately three years and five months since I last had sex (not that I was counting).
Once Chris was satisfied that I was adequately prepared, he pulled his fingers back and guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance. I tried to relax as he slowly stretched me open, but even as my mind revelled in the bliss I was feeling, a thought hit me that made my eyes widen and body stiffen.
"Chris!" I gasped out, gripping his shoulders to push him away slightly. "Condom!"
His head dropped down and he grunted as if he was using the last of his restraint to pull out of me.
"Shit," he cursed. "How could we forget that again?"
"I guess we don't learn from our mistakes," I smiled, despite the pang in my heart as the voice in my head chimed in again to say 'clearly not or you wouldn't be about to fuck him and break your own heart again'. "Do you have one?"
Chris nodded, rolling off me for just long enough to reach over to the bedside table. He pulled one out of the drawer, ripped it open and slid it on with impressive speed before crawling back over me.
"Now," he smirked. "Where were we?"
He looked down as he guided himself inside me again. The initial stretch wasn't as intense the second time around, but it grew as he pushed deeper and my breath hitched once he was fully inside. Chris stilled, sensing my discomfort as he dropped his head to kiss along my jaw until his lips rested just below my ear.
"You good?"
"Mhmm," I nodded, breathing out and shifting my hips as I started to adjust. We stayed like that, connected but still, for a few moments until I felt the tension ease a bit. "You can move."
"You sure?" Chris looked at me with concern on his face, but I nodded.
That was all the reassurance he needed as he began slowly moving his hips. He pulled his lips back from where they rested near my ear and pressed them against mine.
He kissed me deeply, passionately, as he created a steady rhythm, sliding in and out with his hips pressing hard against mine with each thrust. His biceps bulged and strained to support his weight through the movement and he eventually let his mouth fall away from mine as he could no longer hold back a groan. That noise, and the grunts that followed, made me twitch around him as if my body was doing everything it could to keep him inside me, to keep the pleasure that it had been craving for so long.
I could feel him dragging against every inch inside me, brushing against every nerve and stretching me just enough to keep me constantly impressed by how big he was. It was somehow too much, but not enough all at the same time and I hitched my leg higher up on his waist to help him get closer, deeper, if at all possible.
"Good girl..."
Chris' words hummed encouragingly against my collarbone where he placed another soft kiss before pulling back. He placed his hand on the back of my knee and lifted it even higher, opening me up for him even more.
My head dropped back against the pillow on the next stroke as his cock slid against that delicious spot inside me where his fingers had been only minutes before. He was watching, looking down between us to see me wrapped around him, see me taking him all the way every time he pushed in. I could hear him mumbling praises, compliments about how well I was doing, but I was too far gone, too wrapped up in the pleasure emanating from between my legs to do anything, but moan in response.
He slowed for a moment, leaning down, my leg catching on his shoulder and pressing it even higher as he reminded me to be quiet. He nipped my ear lobe, pulling a whimper from my lips before moving back and picking his pace up again. I knew he was right, but it was hard, next to impossible even, to hold back the noises that were bubbling in my throat.
I bit my lip and dug my nails into his skin as I attempted to control my volume and silently cursed Chris when he shifted his weight just enough to put the pressure of each thrust back on just the right spot. He moved his thumb down to brush over my clit, but it barely took a few strokes for me to fly over the edge.
It felt like my whole world exploded as I clenched around him, a low moan slipping past the lip between my teeth. The tingle ripped through every part of my body, every muscle quivering with pleasure, as Chris picked up the pace even more, with one final burst of speed until he stilled, letting out a deep, rumbling groan of his own before pumping in and out a few final times.
Once he'd stopped his movements completely, he let my leg lower to the bed, collapsing against my chest as he fought to catch his breath. I drifted my hand up to stroke the damp hairs on the back of his neck and soaked in the blissful feeling, a feeling I'd dreamt about since the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying it.
We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris reluctantly pulled back, letting out a soft groan as he slid out of me.
"I'll be right back."
I admired Chris' ability to walk already as all I had the strength to do was nod and shift back to my side of the bed. When Chris reappeared a few minutes later after disposing of the condom in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. He climbed back under the blankets and shifted over towards me until he could pull me right against his chest with our legs intertwined.
"That was nice," I sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms as I nuzzled my nose into his toned pecs.
They shook as he chuckled and a giggle slipped from my lips as well.
"It was," he agreed, kissing the top of my head the same way he had at the start of this little rendezvous.
There was a heaviness in the air, the underlying unspoken words and the conversation that needed to be had hung between us, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. I'd spent so much time thinking about this, what it would be like to be in his arms again, I couldn't bare to say anything that might make him pull away and snap out of the moment of insanity we'd slipped into.
So, I didn't and neither did he. With one final, gentle kiss goodnight, we stayed tightly in our embrace until we drifted off into a contented sleep.
-
Part Three
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doctorstethoscope · 3 years
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Fighting Crime || A. Hotchner & Reader
Back at it again with another one shot for @ssahotchswife ‘s soft Hotch Saturday! No smut this week sorry folks. 
Warnings: alcohol consumption, canon-typical mentions of kidnapping/violence, pregnancy, suggestive content
Word count: 1.7k
You finished your paperwork first, which wasn’t unusual. Gathering up your files, you trekked up the steps and knocked twice on the door to Aaron’s office before letting yourself in. 
“This is done,” you said, extending the folder towards him. “And luckily for you, I left out the logs of what exactly occurred in my hotel room between the hours of 12:38AM and--” 
“Trust me, my memory is plenty fresh on that.” He smirked up at you. 
“JJ and Penelope have called for a celebration of our heroism at the bar tonight,” you informed Aaron, who peeked over your shoulder at the clock hanging on his office wall. It was 4pm.  “We can have a couple drinks and still get Jack for dinner. It’ll be good to have some non-work related adult time.” You told him, 
“I think that if you refer to the log of what happened in your hotel room at 12:38AM, you’ll find my preferred non work related adult---”
“Aaron!” You cut him off with a laugh, and your smile seemed to relieve some of the tension in  his jaw.
“You go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll see what I can do here. Either way, I’ll come pick you up and we can get Jack together.” 
“Okay boss,” you smiled, leaving his office to go check on Spencer, who usually finished around the same time as you. 
“I’m going to be a little while longer,” he sighs. “Why don’t you go to the bar and grab our booth?” He suggested, and you took his advice. 
It had been a long case, but a successful one-- the unsub confessed, and none of the hostages were hurt, so it was one worth celebrating for sure. You walked over to the team’s normal spot, enjoying the warmth of the DC sun on your face. Jimmy, the bartender, spots you as soon as you make your way into the bar. 
“Hey, princess!” He calls out to you with a smile.
“Hi Jimmy,” you greet him as you slide into a barstool 
“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asks as he slides you your usual-- a vodka tonic with lime.
“I’m just getting a headstart. The rest of the team will be here soon, so I’m going to grab our booth before it gets crowded.” You explain to him.
“Okay doll, I’ll be by to check on you in a little bit.”
True to his word, Jimmy swung by with another vodka tonic about fifteen minutes later, and JJ walked in shortly afterwards. 
“Damn, you beat boy genius!” You congratulated her.
“I know, it has to be a new personal best,” she agrees with a laugh as Jimmy reappears, placing two shots on the table for you both. 
“Cheers to a successful case” you smiled, extending your shot glass in her direction. She bit her lip. 
“Oh, I’m not drinking tonight, actually,” she tells you.
“You’re pregnant!” You exclaimed, downing your shot. 
“How did you know?” She asked, laughing as she passes you her shot.
“Well, I didn’t, but it was a good guess.” 
“I’m not really ready to tell the whole team yet.” She tells you shyly, and you’re quick to reassure her. 
“Of course, Jayje. They won’t hear it from me.”
“Thank you. Now take that, because they’re coming and they need to think I drank it.” She says, gesturing to her shot. You downed it quickly before the rest of the team could make it to the table. 
“Ladies, ladies, you started without me?” Derek grinned as he slid into the booth next to JJ. 
You were pleasantly surprised to see Aaron slip in next to you. You took his hand and squeezed it in your own before kissing the back of it. “I thought for sure you’d be holed up in your office to avoid this,” you confessed. 
“Yeah, well, my girlfriend is a cute drunk,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek and taking advantage of the proximity to whisper, “and I caught you drinking for two.”
You and Aaron were coming up on a year of dating, and had told the team a few months back. There was a novelty to being a couple in front of the people you loved most, somehow even more exciting than the sneaking around them, that hadn’t worn off yet. Aaron wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you put a hand on his thigh as Spencer and Emily went to get another round of drinks. 
“No one knows yet,” You whispered back to Aaron, but you knew he would keep JJ’s secret. He was good like that.
You attempt to keep up with the flow of conversation, but between the cocktails and the shots, you’re beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, particularly on your empty stomach. Emily and Spencer return and pass you another vodka tonic, and you make a silent determination to nurse this one more slowly. You tilt your chin up towards Aaron, who is listening to Penelope tell Spencer about the new frozen yogurt place that opened up by her apartment.
“You okay?” He asked, lowly, so no one else would hear. 
“Yeah,” you smiled back up at him.
“You’re drunk.” He states, chuckling at you.
“Noooo,” you argued, drunkenly. Luckily, Derek saves you from yourself. 
“Hotchner, you can’t monopolize her just because she’s your girl now. We all remember who took care of her when she first got here.” He teases Aaron, and you laugh. It was true. Aaron had been hard on you at the beginning, but Morgan took you under his wing. He took good care of you. “Come on pretty thing, we’re dancing.” Derek extends his hand towards you, and you see Emily and Penelope waiting for you as well. 
You sat up, untangling yourself from Aaron before giving him a quick peck, grabbing your drink, and practically racing the three of them to the dance floor. It felt like college, in all the best ways. The job was so stressful, and you didn’t let yourself get away from it nearly enough. Throwing your arms up in the air with Emily, letting Morgan catch you when you stumbled, and laughing with Garcia as she brought you another shot of who-knows-what, it felt like the Friday night after you turned in a term paper. Total bliss, fuck the consequences. 
“Guys, we have a case. It’s urgent, and it’s bad.” JJ came to pull you all off of the dance floor. 
Well, so much for fuck the consequences. You put a hand on Morgan’s wrist, a silent sign for him to support you-- you weren’t even sure if you could make it back to the office without stumbling. He placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the bar, where the team was waiting in the street. You reached for Aaron and linked your arm with his. Even with his support, you stumbled at the brisk pace and the uneven ground of the cobblestones downtown.
“You can’t work like this,” he said once you were back in the elevator at Quantico. He wasn’t judging you or being mean-- but as both your supervisor and your boyfriend, he was concerned. “Maybe Jess can swing by and take you home, you can read Jack his bedtime story and sleep some of this off--” He said, as you all stepped out of the elevator and back into the office.
“Noo, Aaron!” You whined. “I want to fight crime!” You protested, pouting. If there was any doubt that you were drunk before, it was gone now. You heard Emily stifle a laugh from somewhere behind you. 
“Hotch, you’re going to send her home just to have her take a nap to sober up and then meet us out there? That doesn’t make any sense,” Morgan argues, but there’s no bite behind it. 
“Yeah, plus you need me to help you fight crime,” You add helpfully as Aaron directed you to your desk and all but placed you in your chair. 
“It’s a four hour flight. She can sleep on the plane,” JJ suggests as she brings you a cup of coffee, which you sip on gratefully. 
You could tell, even in your drunken state, that Aaron was torn, and you felt bad. As your supervisor, he knew he should send you home. As your boyfriend, he would certainly feel better if you were nearby, not to mention the fact that leaving you here meant you’d have to fly commercial to Montana the next morning, not on the safety of the team’s jet. He took a deep breath before making a determination. 
“You are going to eat something now, when we brief, and then you are going to sleep on the plane. You will not go into the field or to the crime scene until I say so. You will go straight to the police precinct, talk to no one, and start on the geographic profile with Reid. Is that clear?” 
“Yes sir,” you squeaked out, and the team erupted in giggles.
“Good girl,” he whispered for only you to hear.
45 minutes later, you had all but inhaled the fast food that Reid had brought you, and you were following Aaron out to the jet. You were the first ones on, and Aaron led you over to the couch, foregoing his normal spot for one where you’d be more comfortable sleeping. He pulled your favorite throw blanket out of your go-bag and covered you up, your head in his lap and your legs splayed out over the other end of the couch, 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, and he pushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he tells you. “You didn’t know we would be called on another case.” 
“I know. That didn’t make it any easier on you, though.” 
“You shouldn’t worry about me so much,” he’s quick to correct you. 
“Says the man who’s letting me sleep my drunkenness off on an FBI jet so that he doesn’t have to let me out of his sight,” you teased him.
“Well, you wanted to fight crime so badly. How could I say no?” He smiled down at you. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”
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Text
Fathering a Phantom ch2
I just wanna Talk, I swear
Here we have the chapter 2 for that fic from earlier! Once again, here ya go @five-rivers @floralflowerpower and @uwuplasmiusuwu
“Cole I’m going to murder someone,” was the first thing that Toby said to his husband upon arriving once more in their temporary sanctuary. Cole paused mid throw of his javelin, electric sparks crackling up the polearm, and turned to look at his husband. Toby’s wings were ablaze, his nails sharpened into claws, and his eyes a colorful storm, as though he couldn’t decide what to turn into for maximum lethality. Cole set down his javelin and wrapped around Toby in a hug.
“Who are you planning to murder, sunshine? And should I join in? I haven’t gotten into a good fight since we got here, which is a shame.” Cole coalesced from a mass of clouds into something a bit closer to his original body when Toby relaxed in his embrace, running his fingers through shimmering feathers made of embers. “You really do look like a star like this, by the way.”
“There was, I think, a war forged around here who fired a bunch of rockets at a child! You know that liminal kid I told you about?”
“Oh right, we’re rare in this realm, huh?” Cole’s face scrunched up in confusion and he arched a brow. “I thought the liminal around here beat up the tyrant ruling the place when he woke up?”
“I didn’t exactly ask about what must’ve sucked when I half blew up the metalhead.” Toby flew over to the couch and flopped face first into it. “Now I gotta track him down.”
“Why only half? Sounds like someone you’d take out in one go if you had the drop on em.”
“Well, do you wanna traumatize a kid of unknown cultural origins? He’s so small, and his friends were clearly still living humans. I dunno if he’s seen someone die before, let alone a ghost getting Ended. If I recall, committing murder is a bad way to start a friendship with a child.”
Cole snorted and gave Toby a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, fair, Sildar didn’t like me much after that rescue. But hey, now you can put that on your to do list! Murder, the answer to most problems.” Toby laughed, phasing through the couch when Cole sat on him. “There he is, my giggly celestial chandelier.”
“Do you even remember what a chandelier is? I know you broke like three of them over someone’s head, but I forget whose head.” Toby put out the flames in his feathers and stretched, satisfied when his spine popped a few times. “It’s nice to still be able to do that.”
“I’ll be honest, being a cloud has made the sound of your joints popping kinda gross to me. It sounds like you’ve still got a flesh and blood body.” Cole sat up, scratching his head. “Do you still have a humanoid body? With like, meat and bones and stuff?”
“Probably, yeah. We’ll see, cause if so that’ll come in handy with helping out this liminal kid. Said his name is Danny Phantom.” Toby paused, the feeling of his feather being torn an odd and upsetting one. “Speaking of whom, I should go meet up with them. Think you can find this ‘Skulker’ guy while I educate some kids?”
Cole kissed Toby on the cheek and gave him a thumbs up. “Will do! I can’t promise there’ll be much left of him afterward though, I’m not a fan of idiots who attack kids.” Toby smiled and in a flash of light and beat of wings, he was gone. Cole nodded to himself and grabbed his maul, crackling with electric arcs, and opened up the door to their temporary Sanctuary. “Now then, who the fuck is Skulker?”
After having a small debate about where they couldn’t go and why, team Phantom finally ended up at the indoor roller rink that was partially destroyed by a giant ghost crab a while ago, and sat down at a table that Danny cleared of debris with an ectoblast or three. “Ok guys, I think this is a good enough place to call him up.”
“Are we sure it’s a good idea to call him at all?” Sam held up the feather she’d kept in her pocket, turning it about to watch the golden flame dance. “He took down Skulker pretty fast and it usually takes you a good half hour to do that, Danny.”
“Skulker specializes in attacking Danny is all, Sam. We’ve got the weapons to handle pretty much any ghost we normally deal with, and Danny took down the king of ghosts. I’m pretty sure he can handle anyone else.”
“Plus, Toby wrecked Skulker pretty bad. If he wanted to fight, I’m pretty sure he would’ve started a fight.” Danny condensed his ectoblasts into one ball of ectoplasma and stretched it out into a pole. “Imagine all the cool stuff he could show us!”
“Alright, if you say so.” Sam snapped the feather in half, surprised by how easy it was to do, and grabbed her ecto-pistol. For a moment, there was silence. Then the sound of wingbeats filled the room and Toby appeared above the rink as though landing from a long flight.
“That’s a spell I’m not used to casting frequently in a day. Heyo kids!” Toby waved, tucking his wings by his sides while walking closer. “Sorry for the delay, I was talking to my husband. So, names again just to be sure: Sam, Tucker, and Danny, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. What do you mean spell, exactly? Do ghosts have magic ontop of the other ghost powers now?” Tucker spun the lipstick laser around in his fingers, remembering Desiree’s magic and Freakshow’s staff.
“Anyone who can do magic keeps the ability in death, usually. I’m not dead though, I’m Deathless.” He spread his wings and spun around, thumbs pointing to his chest. “I was born awesome like this, and so was Cole. But, based on your faces you weren’t born like this?”
“No,” Sam said, gesturing at Danny. “This is a recent thing, it’s been since about…” Sam paused, her gaze landing on the wall behind Toby. “March of last year, so 14 months.”
“Yeah, god, we’ve been doing this for over a year now, haven’t we?” Tucker, who had held up a camera to record everything Toby was saying, slumped a bit in his seat and sighed. “Feels like it’s been like this forever and like it happened yesterday.”
Toby stared at them all like they’d each grown extra limbs in odd places – Danny even checked to make sure he hadn’t done that while feeling both old and young at the same time due to how little time had actually passed – before zipping over to Danny and holding his hands just over the teen’s face. “Oh my gods, you’re a baby.”
“I am a teenager, thank you.” Danny gently pulled Toby’s hands away from his face, a brow raised. “What, is 14 infantile to angels, feather man?”
“You’re only 14 months dead, Danny, that makes you a baby ghost.” Sam snorted and Tucker covered his mouth to try and hide his laughter. A snap of Toby’s fingers and flowers began growing in Tucker’s hat, and seeds appeared above Sam, growing into flowers as they fell all over her. “If you’ve had regular interactions with that metal head, no wonder your aura’s all aggro.”
“Skulker’s not exactly the worst of the ghosts we’ve had to fight over the months,” Danny said.
“Oh yeah, that’d have to be either Walker, Spectra, or Vlad. It’s really a toss up between Spectra and Vlad, if you ask me.”
“Vlad wants to kill Danny’s dad because he sees his mom as a trophy that was stolen from him, while Spectra tried to kill Jazz just to depress an entire school so she could feed on the misery to look young.” Sam brushed away the flowers and weighed two in her hands. “Yeah, those around the same level of grossly evil.”
Toby’s wings ignited at some point while Sam was talking, and the sunlight streaming in from the hole in the roof grew somewhat brighter. He reached into a bag he had strapped to his waist and pulled out a book and a pen, his smile all teeth. “Tell me, please, a list of all the adult ghosts who have attacked you children? I’d like to have a discussion with each of them.”
“If we give you their names,” Danny said before Tucker could answer, “do you promise not to go slaughtering them all? I don’t need to know ghostly body language at all to know that flaming wings come from a place of anger and imminent violence.”
“When did you read a thesaurus, Danny?”
“Sam, I’m insulted: I know tri-syllabic words. I can even say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
“I promise not to slaughter all of the ghosts you inform me hurt you in the past few months, yes. Names?” When Tucker listed off names, Toby wrote them down with an inhuman speed, and Danny exchanged a look with Sam, worried about how exactly that deal might be loopholed around. “Right,” Toby chirped while slamming his book shut, “I’m here to answer some questions of yours, not just ramble about myself and assemble a… list of people to talk to. Got any?”
“So many that I don’t even know where to start.”
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batsandbugs · 3 years
Text
The Great IKEA Game
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Chapter 5: Vent Shenanigans and Keurig Conversations
AN: Okay, this is the last that anyone is going to hear of me for two weeks. Then I’m out of school and will be ready to crank out some more chaos. Until then, I hope you guys enjoy!
Television shows made navigating through vents appear much easier than it was in real life. Then again, they also made being a superhero look easy too, and Marinette was painfully aware how that was false. 
Her knees and back ached from crawling through the low ceiling vents, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic, she was decidedly cramped. And if that’s how she felt, Damian, at more than half a foot taller, had to be doubly suffering. She asked how he was doing.
“I've crawled through far more pleasant vents before,” he replied seriously. “If we could continue quickly, we’ll come out near another vent gate in about ten or so minutes.”
They continued in silence until they came to a fork in the vent.
“Which way?” asked Marinette.
Damian hesitated. “I didn’t see this on the plans.”
“So, you don’t know.”  
“I did not say that.”
“So which way do we go?”
Silence.
Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, poking for the pooled energy inside herself. Being the Guardian of the Miraculous had helped her innate magic to grow in leaps and bounds, but it was her Ladybug powers she ultimately searched for. After being bonded with Tikki for so long, certain… qualities tended to bleed over. One such ability was making decisions infused with good luck. It wasn’t easy, but it was one she had been working hard to master.  
A glimmer of magic burned in her chest, and a fleeting whispered voice told her to turn left. She smiled in the dark of the vent.
“Left,” she said confidently, “we go left.”
“Why?”
Marinette’s smile turned into a smirk, even though Damian couldn’t see her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“You wouldn’t be the first to try.” The quickness made the reply appear casual, but Marinette could tell by the steel in his tone it told more truth than intended.
‘Who the hell did I team up with?’ her brain once again asked.
“Let’s leave me off the list,” she said, bypassing the dangerous remark with a gymnast's grace. “Come on.”
She crawled around the corner and, after only a moment’s hesitation, heard Damian follow after her.
Silence reigned for another minute or so before far in the distance they spotted light.
“Oh, thank the Kwamis, an exit,” Marinette muttered.
Damian grumbled behind her. “None of this appeared on the plans.”
“Learn to roll with the flow.” The light grew stronger, so she flicked off her phone flashlight. “Chances are it didn’t take your brothers too long to track me back to our hiding spot. They probably know we’re in the vents. If they found the same plan you did…”
“They won’t have any clue about this.” She could hear the pleased smirk in his voice.
“Exactly.”
The light flooded upwards from the vent floor. The slats in between large enough to view the room below. Marinette crawled over it and maneuvered herself around to face Damian.
“Nice to see your face again.”
The dim light from the vent illuminated his face. “N-Nice to see yours too,” he said. It was at that point, it dawned on Marinette that Damian's view the whole way through the vent was an up close look at her butt. From the heat radiating off her cheeks, it was likely her face was as red as his. She was torn between laughing hysterically and curling into mortified ball and never emerging.
Instead of either of those rational actions though, her mouth, her stupid, stupid mouth, decided to betray her.
“Enjoy the view?” she asked with a grin. ''What are you doing?' She yelled at herself, that was the last thing she wanted to utter.
Damian, if it was even possible, turned redder, and coughed lightly. “You have, uh, your bottom is quite shapely.” By the end of his confession, his voice was a high-pitched squeak, more appropriate for a preteen, then an adult. It took every bit of self-control for Marinette to keep from falling apart laughing.
“Thanks, I exercise,” she responded cheekily. A familiar magical hum settled in her breastbone. Her connection to the Kwamis magic. Marinette held back from rolling her eyes, even as her inner panic grew. One of the Kwamis was helping her to flirt. Probably Plagg judging by her cheesy replies.
‘They are the physical embodiments of the powers of the universe, and they choose to help me flirt. What even is my life?’
“It's working well,” replied Damian, with more of a teasing tone than an embarrassed one, although his cheeks still appeared redder than normal.
“Yeah, well…” Marinette sat there struggling for a reply, when noise from below cut off their impromptu flir- teasing session.
“I swear to God, if I find out who caused the mess in the Market Hall, I'll strangle them with my bare hands,” complained a voice from below.
Marinette winced when she saw Damian looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to cause that much damage.
“Oh, come on, Ian, it’s not like it was unscrewed on purpose. A bolt probably loosened and the shelf got bumped into. Blame it on bad luck.”
“Well, can I strangle bad luck then?”
Marinette held back an undainty snort. Plagg's constant whining and complaining coming to mind. ‘There I certain days I definitely want to.’
“I don’t think so. I’m more worried about the giant cart pile up.” At that, Damian raised a second eyebrow, and Marinette shrugged, she didn't controlled what the Bad Luck Balls did. “We’re gonna need to test all the carts to check for any more loose wheels, that’s gonna take forever. Anyway, are you headed home?”
“Yeah, I’m half an hour over the end of my shift,” responded Ian. Marinette could see two people moving around in the room below. “Ooh look, someone brought in doughnuts! You want one Casey?”
“No thanks, still trying to stay on that diet. I just came in here for a drink and then I’m back out on the floor.” The sound of a fridge door opened. “See you next week.”
“Yeah, you too Casey.”
The sound of another door opened leaving the room below silent once more.
“Shopping carts?” Damian asked, half-amused, and half bewildered. “I didn’t hear about that.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Escape was the highest priority, okay?”  
“When would you find the time to accomplish that?”
Marinette hesitated, there was no good explanation to give that would satisfy him. She wouldn’t tell him about the Miraculous or the Kwamis. It was her job, no her duty, to maintain their safety, and after everything she had fought for, bled for, nearly died for... no matter how comfortable he made her, there was no way he'd learn about what she could do. Especially when she had the feeling he was far more than meets the eye. Which didn’t leave much in the way of a good excuse for what she did and how.
Then, as if understanding Marinette’s great need for a distraction, their stomachs rumbled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment before laughing.
Marinette huffed, wiping away a tear of joy from her eye. “Okay, we need to find food to eat.”
Damian nodded. “The food court is a no go now; Drake will monitor it even more closely than before. We could find a vending machine?”
An idea popped into Marinette’s mind. “Or… how about the doughnuts?”
“Huh?”
She pointed down. “This is the breakroom. Ian mentioned doughnuts.”
“That would be stealing.”
“As opposed to the twenty other things we’ve stolen over the course of the past two hours?”
Damian rolled his eyes. “I can back pay those.”
“So, we’ll send them a box of doughnuts once we’ve won. I’m sure the IKEA employees will understand the doughnut's sacrifice to a worthy cause. Besides, breakrooms have coffee machines.”
Damian sneered. “Coffee from a machine will taste will taste like swill.”
“Didn't you say your brother dragged you out of bed at eight this morning? Coffee means caffeine, which means energy.”
He tilted his head and contemplated it for a moment. “Fair point.” He looked at the grate. “It’s probably a ten-foot drop. Can you handle that?”
Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had free fallen off the Eiffel Tower before, she could handle a measly ten-foot drop. But Damian wasn't aware of any of that of course. “Yeah, I can do that.”
He dug into his pocket and pulled out the laser pen. “Back up, it’s going to get hot in here.”
Marinette averted her eyes while Damian cut the grate away with the laser, the heat making the metal vent shaft turn into a furnace. She wiped away at a bead of sweat forming at her brow. The grate gave way and clattered against the floor below. Damian put away the laser and gave her a quick smirk. He slipped his legs into the hole where the grate had been and jumped to the floor, landing with a soft thud.
Breathing a sigh of relief at finally leaving the cramped vent, Marinette maneuvered her legs to dangle over the vent opening and slid out, bracing herself for the landing.
But instead of meeting the floor, she found herself caught in mid-air. Damian had her in his grasp, holding her off the floor by a few inches with his strong arms snug around her waist. Their eyes caught and the air between them grew thick with tension. His bare hands brushed against a sliver of her exposed back, the contact sent shivers up her spine.
Neither of them breathed for a brief moment.
“I told you I could handle the drop,” Marinette said, her words barely above a whisper.
“I know.” Damian’s voice matched hers. The look in his eyes impossible to decipher. His arms tightened for a moment, before letting her slip-free.
Marinette smiled, resting her hands against his arms. “Thanks.”
Damian opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. He stepped back, effectively breaking the bubble around them. Marinette pushed the rapid flutter in her chest away. She could deal with it later when she was far removed from crazy games of hide-and-seek, and dark-skinned boys who made her too comfortable to be safe.
She turned and looked around the room they had dropped into, finding it, thankfully, empty. The last thing they needed was security getting called on them. Spotting the counter with the box of doughnuts on it, Marinette smiled.
She walked over to the box. “Well, it’s no Parisian artisan pastries, but I suppose the chain-restaurant swill will suffice,” she teased, looking back over her shoulder at Damian.  
“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. Heading over to the coffee machine to start a new pot. She turned her attention back to the box, the words Krispy Kreme printed on the front in large green letters, several doughnuts still inside.
“Which one do you want?” she asked.
“Anything with chocolate.”
“You have excellent taste.”
“I strive too.” That made Marinette smile. It was such a Chole-like response. She had to make sure never to introduce the two of them.
Marinette pulled out a few doughnuts and put them in the microwave. They would taste much better warm. After a few seconds, she brought the plate over to Damian staring at the ancient coffee machine with distaste.
“Here, you take this.” She pushed the plate of warm doughnuts into his hands. “And I’ll deal with this.” Grabbing a filter to place the pre-crushed coffee grounds into.
“Tt, why don’t they use a Keurig?” he asked with a sneer.
“Uh… because it’s a breakroom in an IKEA?” Marinette was shocked to find a breakroom at all. She’d figured employees would have to lean against the wall if they wanted a break, before being prodded into moving again by their superior. At least, she thought that was what Americans did.
Damian scoffed. “Everyone uses Keurig.”
“Even you, Mr. Machine coffee tastes like swill?”
“No, Alfred makes our coffee in the morning French press style. I do occasionally steal Drake’s Keurig out of his room when he hasn’t slept in four days to watch him cry though.”
“Damian!” she exclaimed.
“What? It’s for his own good. At that point he’s more likely to make a mistake, he needs sleep, not more caffeine.”
Marinette's thoughts flickered to her own Keurig she bought before she left Paris and the number of times she had played out the exact scenario Damian described. “Coffee is a lifestyle.” She grabbed two paper cups and placed one underneath the machine as the coffee dripped.
“It’s a crutch. Drake is a grown man, and he should, mlph-” Marinette cut him off by shoving a chocolate doughnut into his mouth. He glared at her.
“Getting between a determined person and their coffee is a criminal offense and should be punished.” She grabbed a doughnut for herself taking a bite of the sugary pastry. It tasted nothing like her parents’, but her empty stomach didn't care, so it would do. “Who’s Alfred by the way? Another brother?”
Damian took half the doughnut out of his mouth, swallowing the rest. “Most people wouldn’t dare to take the liberties you do with me.”
“Good thing I’m not most people,” Marinette responded with a smile. “You’re avoiding the question.” She took the cup out, now full to the brim of steaming hot coffee, and replaced it with the second.
“No, fortunately, I have no more brothers. Although my father likes to pick up strays so who knows if we’ll obtain another. Alfred is our butler.”
Thankfully, Marinette hadn’t taken a sip of coffee otherwise she might have done a spit-take. “You have a butler?” She had gotten the impression his family was pretty rich, and she was used to her friends having personal staff, but never failed to shock her when this level of luxury was mentioned so casually.
Damian shrugged. “Tt, butler, pseudo-grandfather, the only reason our family functions even semi-normally; same difference.”
Marinette shook her head in exasperation. “If you say so.” She pulled out the second cup, handing it to Damian. He took a sip.
“If mediocre had a taste…”
“Oh, shut up and drink it.”
They devoured their meager rations in silence, going back for seconds on both doughnuts and coffee. Marinette was by no means full when she finished, but at least her stomach wasn’t threatening to eat itself anymore.
“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.
Damian pulled out his phone. “The store closes at nine, which means we either have to avoid my brothers for eight more hours, or…”
“We have to knock them out of the game completely.”
“Exactly.”
“So, are we gonna actually knock them out, or should we just get them kicked out of the store?” She would normally try to avoid the use of excessive force on civilians, but from the few hints Damian had dropped, Marinette figured his family was used to a higher level of insanity. Living in Gotham must have that effect.
“Effective and vicious,” commented Damian, “I like the way you think. As much fun as it would be to knock them out, getting them kicked out is probably the better method. We have… family plans for this evening that potential concussions would make difficult.”
“Who’s our first target?”
“Drake,” said Damian without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s their eyes and ears. The other two are still good at hacking, but he’s the best. Get rid of him, and Grayson and Todd will be scrambling to recover. Plus, he’s the least likely to put up a fight.”
With a plan made, they erased their presence from the breakroom, hiding the lasered off vent grate and discarding their trash. Once confident the coast was clear they snuck out of the breakroom, and into the bowels of the back hallways, leaving nothing but doughnut crumbs and the smell of coffee in their wake.
It was time for the hunters to become the prey.
Tag List (closed, sorry) 
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I can’t remember if I sent an ask to you or therealvinelle about Bella’s relationships to women outside of Alice and posing the question if she had a sister. I wanted to specifically know what happens to the canon if she has a twin sister (I think I just said sister in the other ask)? Does she and the sister die? Does the sister die? Does Twilight not happen at all? More importantly is Edward also unable to read the sister’s mind and is compelled by her blood?
I can't remember either, but I'm certainly here now.
First, for reference, that one time Bella had a twin brother. Things got weird.
And now, that time Bella had a twin sister. God help us. I have no idea where this will take us. I feel like, after Beauford/Bella, I should be drinking for this.
Bella Has a Twin Sister/Does Twin Sister Have the Same Gift and Smell
First, @farrahda5hy does not specify whether this is a fraternal twin or an identical twin sister. This makes a difference. A fraternal twin is unlikely to have the holy cocktail that's sure to catch Edward's interest and also unlikely to have the same manifestations of her gift (if she is, in fact, gifted at all).
So even though you asked the question last I think it's the one we need to address first: can Edward read sister's mind and is she his singer?
Coin toss. Identical, presumably also a singer due to the biological makeup of the blood. Fraternal, Bella 2.0 (We'll call her Cella for the sake of this post), and she'll just smell pleasant but not L'eau de Murder Biology pleasant. Same with the gift, fraternal, very unlikely to be the same exact gift, might have similar applications but probably not the same amount of power/same manifestations. Identical... more likely.
There's really no definitive answer here, it's very up in the air.
Does Canon Change?
Maybe, maybe not, it depends.
Cella may not want to go to Forks in 2005 as Bella did.
Bella left feeling like she was a burden on her mother and Phil's fledgling marriage. Bella has absolutely no self esteem and felt the best thing she could do was be out of the way, even in a town she hates. Cella... may not go along with that. Cella's likely still messed up from being raised by Renee, but she may have different issues than Bella.
She may be more angry vs. the low self esteem, may have trouble in school, and may not want to go. Why leave her high school for the last year and a half so she can go to Forks. A town she and Bella hate. So what if Renee wants to go hang around Phil, she can go, Cella's seventeen and legally an adult. If Renee wants to leave for weeks at a time then Cella can handle it.
Bella may very well go to Forks alone, in which case, canon happens but with a few extra phone calls to a mysterious sister who goes, "WHAT THE HELL, BELLA?!" every few weeks when something weird happens. Then Bella gets married to some guy who looks like a hot alien, Cella has no words.
Cella may be very similar to Bella, or else be talked into going to Forks. Let Phil and Renee have fun, it's only a few years, and they should probably see Charlie. In which case we're back in the realm of your questions.
Does Cella Get Eaten?
If she's fraternal, no.
I imagine she's treated much like canon treats Charlie. Edward at first is amazed by this girl who is Bella's wonderful twin sister and a part of Bella's wonderful family. Cella, probably thinks Edward's really weird and kind of creepy, but he is hot and when he comes over for dinner does his best to be charming. Like Charlie, she's probably won over for a bit. This falls apart as shit keeps happening and Cella starts disapproving of Edward, then Edward's opinion of her tanks as she becomes yet another obstacle to his and Bella's grand love.
Bella may or may not tell Cella details. I'm going to say she probably doesn't because Cella may tell Bella to stay away from Edward (not an option) or else simply may not understand. More, Bella vowed to keep this secret safe for Edward, that she wouldn't tell anyone, and that anyone includes her sister.
So Cella just gets a front row seat to Bella's concerning and erratic behavior throughout the series including the flight to Phoenix (where she says she hates them both and stomps off), the New Moon depression, the flight to Italy (no explanation is given), and her sudden marriage to Edward Cullen.
And, of course, Cella getting to meet Edward's "niece" who looks a little too much like Bella.
At least Charlie and Cella are in this together.
If Cella's identical, there's a good chance she gets eaten. That's twice the amount of temptation for Edward and twice the chances he might fail. That said, he may also try to induct her and Bella into a harem while not admitting he's making a harem.
The ultimate love triangle ensues. Does Edward love Bella or does he love Cella? Which one will he marry? Oh his heart is torn in two! Such a love cannot be and he can't even pick which one! He flips a coin, either Bella or Cella gets married to Edward and ends up carrying the Renesmee equivalent but... he probably has an emotionally charged affair with the other on the sly. He just can't choose man, never could. Especially after Cella and or Bella get turned (of course, if one gets turned the other probably ends up turned as well, such is life).
The vast majority of Twilight likely doesn't happen, or at least, not in a familiar manner as now the love triangle is which tasty sister does Edward pick. So hard. So many choices.
Do Both Get Eaten?
It's on the table, the odds weren't in Edward's favor with Bella, that means eating both girls is certainly an option (especially if Cella's identical and a singer as well).
TL;DR I think this one was a little too broad to tackle from all the angles you wanted. If you want something more streamlines, you're going to have to set a few more ground rules.
EDIT:  @farrahda5hy pointed out that I had apparently forgotten the legal age was 18. Regardless, Cella could still opt to stay with Renee. Would Renee be happy? No, but then Cella wouldn’t bein Forks.
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I’ve been thinking about this for a while, do you think Charles,Barbara, Eugenia and Anna were close? Anna maybe less because she’s closer in age to the merry thieves set and she probably ghosted Charles after the Ariadne engagement. Would you consider a fic of them all growing up, starting with them 4 as little kids and then slowly becoming teens and adults and then dealing with Barbara’s death. I think it would be a fun idea since nobody ever considers them to be a older merry thieves.
You can thank my social anxiety for this one bc I stress wrote it in school 🙃
TW: panic attacks, death
Title: When we were young
Characters: Barbara Lightwood, Anna Lightwood, Eugenia Lightwood, Cecily Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood, Alexander Lightwood, Sophie Lightwood, Gideon Lightwood
Anna was sitting by the fire when Charles came into the room. She hated him. She truly did. But, somehow, at that moment, she felt strange. He looked at her and it took her many years back, to when they weren’t exactly friends, but  they were far from what they are now to each other.
“And that was how Consul Wentworth fixed the crisis of 1687.” Charles said with a satisfied smile to himself.
The Lightwood girls were his audience. Well, sort of. Eugenia’s cheek was resting on her fist, squishing the right side of her face as her lidded eyes approached shutting completely. Anna was slumped against Eugenia, her lips pressed together tightly and her eyes opened wide, staring at a fixed spot on the floor. Their luminous dark blue glittered in the witchlight, looking exquisitely uncanny. Barbara was mid-yawn, leaning on the leg of a sofa.
“Wow, Charles. Thanks for the history lesson.” Eugenia said, monotonously. It was evident that she’d inherited her mother’s sass from the day she was born, when Barbara had woken her up by exclaiming at the sight of her newborn sister, and Genie responded by pulling her sister’s hair.
“Oh, and in 1690-“
“NO!” All three Lightwood daughters shrieked.
“I’m still not done, though.” Said Charles.
“Yes, you are.” Eugenia said, standing up and settling the matter. “We are positively bored. There is absolutely nothing to do except listen to Charles talk about politics, and if those are the only two options, frankly, I’d rather be bored.” 
Charles crossed his arms. “Being an intellect is not boring.”
Little two year old Anna looked at him with one eyebrow raised. 
“I swear, Thomas is having a better time than we are,” Eugenia said glaring at to where their parents were, with the tiny, almost invisible baby nestled in Gideon’s arms, his fingers wrapped around Sophie's thumb. The parents were all laughing about something, which made Eugenia scowl even more. 
“To be an adult.” Barbara said, with a martyred sigh. 
“We needn’t be adults to have fun.” Charles said.
“I suppose you’re going to torture us with more political trivia.” 
“No,” Charles said. “I was going to suggest we go through the attic.” 
The girls looked up at this and Charles smirked, clearly proud of himself at having come up with a good idea. For once. 
“What is in the attic?” 
Charles shrugged. “I don’t know, but there’s probably strange and obscure things. There’s a lot of that kind of stuff in our house.” 
Barbara and Eugenia exchanged a look before the eldest Lightwood sister turned to him. 
“We shall go and discover this mysterious attic you speak of.”
“What could this even be?” Barbara said, holding up a loose gear-like contraption. 
“Papa sometimes builds things out of clockwork.” Charles said, sitting cross legged. “Or, he used to at least.” 
 “That’s…” 
Genie and Charles looked at Barbara as she trailed off.
“Nevermind, I have no comment.”
Charles nodded as though that was a common reaction people had in terms of his father’s experiments. 
They rummaged through boxes upon boxes, finding momentos they didn’t understand such as papers upon papers of things that said many difficult words. They could distinguish a couple of words such as “infernal” and “devices”, however there were many that made no sense to them.
“What is a Mortmain?” Asked Genie.
“I think it’s an undead horse or something along those lines,” said Charles.
“Oh,” said Eugenia. “That’s disgusting.”
“Quite,” agreed Barbara.
Anna was toddling around the room, giggling. She almost tripped over a loose floorboard, and would have, had Charles not reached out and grabbed a hold of the back of her dress. 
“This is too dangerous for a small child like Anna,” Barbara said, ever the mother-goose. “I shall take her downstairs before she hurts herself.” 
Anna protested at first, but acquiesced once Barbara bribed her with the promise of dessert.
“What are you doing here?” Anna asked.
He looked up, his green eyes meeting her blue ones. 
Charles remembered that day like it was just yesterday. 
He and Eugenia had stayed behind rifling through boxes, which wasn’t unwelcome, as Eugenia and Charles had an easy, lighthearted and, at times, profound, friendship. Despite their age gap, they enjoyed each other’s company, though neither could say why. Perhaps, it was simply because they mocked each other. Or perhaps, it was sometimes they would occasionally talk about things such as philosophy, and whether what they were seeing was true, or the world was just a figment of their imaginations. Or a mixture of the two; they’d never really discussed it. 
Eugenia surprised him when she said, “do you ever feel… different from your parents?” 
Charles furrowed his brows, “in what aspect?”
“Love.” 
“Have you a suitor?” Charles inquired, intrigued.
“No. Actually, that was my question. I find that, sometimes, I don’t only enjoy the idea of a male suitor, but perhaps, I also enjoy the company of a woman. Perhaps.” She pressed her lips together tightly, as if forcing herself to stop speaking.
Charles looked at her, his bright green eyes wide. “I-um-…”
“But I’m not sure, of course.” Eugenia blurted out. “It’s not as if shadowhunters are precisely fond of that particular preference or-“
“Do you really think they wouldn’t like it?” Charles asked, softly. “Do you believe they will reject those who are like that?” 
Eugenia looked down. “I’m afraid I’m most sure of it.”
Charles had then realized that he couldn’t have both. There was no way around it. 
He knew his parents were happy and that love made them complete. However, they didn’t have to choose. They could be married and the idea wouldn’t affect their respective occupations. Charles, on the other hand, couldn’t be Consul and have the kind of love he wanted. He almost resented them because of it. They were able to do what they loved and nobody forced them to pick between one or the other. 
It was unfair. So incredibly unfair.
“I guess you better get rid of your feelings towards women than.” He said simply, “unless you’re willing to let something as simple as love get in the way of your dreams.”
“Dreams?” Eugenia asked, looking confused and a tiny bit hurt. 
 But Charles got up to go back downstairs to his parents, aunts and uncles.
… 
Charles slumped down in a chair and dug his fingers into his hair.
“She was just here.” He said quietly. “Babs, was just here.”
Anna felt sudden rage. “You are not allowed to mourn her.” 
Charles looked up. “Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean I can’t be sad. She was my cousin too. Perhaps not by blood, but she was still a cousin.” He pressed his lips together angrily and stared fixedly at the witchlight stone that was illuminating the room. 
Anna, however, couldn’t find it in her to be diplomatic; she got up and left the room. 
Anna had never seen Eugenia look this way. She was always put together, posh. But now, she looked hollow. Like a shell of who she used to be. Anna wanted to go up to her, to say something, but she felt lost for words. What did you tell someone who lost a dear sister? If Anna felt sorrow, she couldn’t imagine what Eugenia was feeling. 
Her head was tilted upwards, looking up at the pyre where the corpse of her sister lay. Tears were streaming down her face, rolling down her cheeks, throat and chest, leaving streaks on her face that looked like the roots of a tree.
Sophie had her arm around her daughter. The sight of the four of them was very strange. There was a gap missing where Barbara should have been. She suddenly felt a hand take hold of her own. She looked to her right and saw her mother looking straight ahead, squeezing her daughter’s hand. Her father was looking down, holding Alex. Her baby brother was one of the few who looked up at the cousin who’d taught him to play simple songs on the piano, and had always let him sleep in her arms on New Year's eve.  
She didn’t know what he must have been thinking now, staring up at the pyre. 
Though, to be fair, she didn’t quite know what to think herself, as she looked up at the cousin who’s life was cut far too short.
Eugenia’s body didn’t feel like her own. She hadn’t felt this body was her own for a while. Even since Augustus and the secret she’d kept to herself.
This was somehow worse. To be torn away from your best friend, whom you’d shared a room with almost your entire life. Eugenia didn’t know how to live in a world without Barbara. Sometimes, in the rare moments when she forgot about her sadness, she’d call her sister’s name, ready to tell her about what had happened in her novel. Or find herself walking to Barbara’s room without thinking and then staring blankly at the door that has remained shut ever since the day she passed away.
A couple of weeks ago, she’d found a letter Barbara had sent her when she’d been in Idris. It was in between her copy of Jane Eyre. She couldn’t bring herself to read it in its entirety, but she stared at the signature blankly. 
Suddenly, she got the urge to run. So she ran. That’s how, an hour later, she’d gotten a small tattoo under her ankle that said “Sincerely, your favorite sister Babs.” 
It felt right to have Bab’s signature there, we’re only she could see. It made her feel accompanied everywhere she went, even though nobody else could see. 
Now, looking up at the pyre, her face tight from tears she’d left to dry, her mother weeping silently, she could almost imagine that her sister was there, simply caught in a slumber and that she’d wake up at any moment and come tumbling down, throwing herself in Eugenia’s arms.
Any moment now, she thought when the pyre burst into flames. 
“Ave atque vale, Barbara Lightwood.” The crowd said at once.
Eugenia shook her head and swayed on her feet. Her breathing became heavy and her fingers began prickling. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. No nononono. 
She felt a hand on her shoulder, vaguely that it was her father’s. 
Not Barbara.
Not Babs.
“Calm down, Genie.”
Not her sister. Her sister couldn’t possibly be up there.
“Breathe Eugenia.”
She wanted to scream that she couldn’t, that she’d never breathe again, as long as her sister wasn’t breathing with her. Why did she have to live? She would have much preferred that Barbara live in her stead. 
The world was numb and fractured, never to be fixed again. 
(Don’t worry, Gideon was able to help Genie after the fic ends bc he’s the best dad)
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queenmuzz · 3 years
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So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....
So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.
“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”
Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”
“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.
Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.
“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.
--
Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.
Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.
The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.
Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…
Nero
And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.
--
Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.
So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.
“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.
“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”
“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.
“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”
“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”
“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”
--
Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.
Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.
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