#one part of it is my step brother crashing and burning before my very eyes and there's nothing I can do to stop his own destructive actions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bizaar · 1 year

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Cruel Summer - Part 6

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pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 15k (YIKES)

warnings: swearing, mentions/descriptions of child/spousal abuse, death, funerals, grief, ANGST, panic attacks, fluff, allusions to sex and smuttiness towards the end of the chapter

A.N.: Babysitter!reader part six is here! This one is a MAMMOTH you guys I was gonna cut it down but you all gave me some pretty positive feedback about long chapters so... here you go :) Wayne Munson continues to be the best man in Hawkins, meanwhile, Eddie's father is the literal worst -- Eddie has TRAUMA

I'm gonna be sad about the Munsons for the rest of my life

Hellfire met and played at the Munson trailer for the better part of a month before the drama room finally became available again. Eddie could not have been more relieved if Publisher’s Clearing House had shown up on his doorstep with a million-dollar check. It was only three sessions, considering the club only officially met on Fridays, but each and every one of them had been punctuated by a special kind of weirdness that Eddie could not stomach another second of.

He’s never been so happy to be back on school grounds.

First and foremost, Gareth had been correct. Wayne was very clear that he didn’t want them playing D&D in the trailer anymore, not after a particularly rowdy session had seen Jeff and Adam engaging in a wrestling match that ended with them falling over and absolutely decimating an antique coffee table that had belonged to Eddie’s grandmother.

Eddie damn near pulled his hair out over it, considering it was arguably the nicest piece of furniture they owned and something Wayne had been very careful about preserving, scratches and water rings and all. The moment only got worse from there, as before Eddie could even finish saying “oh shit—you guys, my uncle is gonna kill me!”, there was Wayne, stepping in through the door mere seconds after the table collapsed … well, exploded was probably the better word to describe what had happened to it when Jeff and Adam came crashing down with all their collective weight like they thought they were a pair of pro-wrestlers or something.

Pair of assholes, more like.

It would have been hilarious if it had been any other piece of furniture in any other house, but then that was just Eddie’s luck, wasn’t it? That it would be the single piece of furniture they owned that his uncle was precious about.

Eddie never met her, considering his father was all but disowned by everyone but Wayne by the time he was born, but he knew well enough that his uncle was a mama’s boy through and through, and Grandma Munson was revered in that household, even in death. What few remaining heirlooms of hers there were that hadn’t been pawned or lost to time were tantamount to sacred, so needless to say, Eddie was in deep shit.

Wayne stood surveying the scene as the smoke cleared – dice, pages, and character maquettes scattered to the wind, sweaty teen boys still wrapped in the vice of their wrassling, laying amidst the rubble of Munson family heirlooms – and he miraculously did not kill his nephew. He did, however, breathe out hard through his nose and go right back out to chain smoke and try to calm down.

Wayne didn’t get mad easily, his temper was a slow-burning fuse in contrast to his volatile younger brother’s, but still, it made Eddie panicky. Being in trouble with Wayne was an exercise in “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” and arguably worse than any insult or abuse his father could have hurled at him in the same situation. Eddie would have given blood to avoid finding himself in the line of those big, sad eyes as he rushed everyone out and did his best to clean up and piece the table back together. The effort was in vain, there was no saving the table and no amount of apologies could save Eddie from the long tired sigh of disappointment Wayne heaved when he finally came back inside.

Wayne didn’t have many hard rules – respect the space, don’t do anything too stupid while he’s gone, do your damn dishes – but that night he made a new one. No more D&D in the trailer. Eddie promised, though more importantly, they shook on it, which was binding among Munson men. Of course, the nasty little problem there was that Eddie had also sworn to himself that he would never set foot in Benny’s diner ever again, not even if his life depended on it … not even if he thought he was going to find you there.

He honestly didn’t think he could physically make himself go through that door, and he was panicking about it, because how was he supposed to explain that to anyone?

How to explain that even after ten years, the diner was still so stifling with the lingering atmosphere of his mother’s presence that he couldn’t breathe? Too many memories of days after school spent waiting while she moved back and forth behind the counter, hours and hours sitting in the squishy pleather booths doing his homework (when he still did his homework) or perched on his knees on the rickety stools and spinning around and around and around until he couldn’t see straight. Watching the clock and counting the minutes left in her shift, walking home hand in hand, telling her about his day, and enjoying a brief interval of peace before his father got home.

Enough time has passed that those days are fuzzy now, bright little jewels of memory that have turned to sepia-toned shards of glass embedded in his mind. They are still painful enough to keep Eddie away from the diner permanently. How is he supposed to explain that he’s afraid he’ll taint what is left of those memories if he returns as he is now, so far removed from the version of himself that his mother knew? The best version of himself.

He can’t do it. He won’t.

So he swallows his pride and calls Wayne at the plant and begs him – literally begs – to let Hellfire play in the trailer. He doesn’t know precisely what it is that wins his uncle over, maybe he’d blown the whole coffee table thing out of proportion in his mind and Wayne wasn’t actually that upset about it (he was) or maybe it is just because he just thinks Eddie really needs a win after the last few months, with you and what happened that afternoon at Rick’s and not graduating again (he really hopes it isn’t that, despite how stridently true it is) — really what is the harm in letting them play a little D&D? Especially after Eddie’s long, drawn-out spiel about how he swears they will be on their best behavior and they won’t get too rowdy or make a mess and he’ll make sure everyone uses coasters if he wants them to, and Wayne listens to his nephew talk a mile a minute before finally cutting him off mid-stream — because they aren’t the type of people who worry about things like coasters — and he relents.

“Take a breath, Bud, it’s alright. You can bring your friends over.”

And Eddie practically sobs with relief, which is embarrassing, but it had been a very tense few hours fighting off panic attacks and wrestling with the very real thought of canceling Hellfire entirely just to try and avoid ever having to set foot in that diner again.

Somehow he gets the sense that Wayne knows all this because he’s always had that weird sort of omniscience that parents have when it comes to their kids (good parents, at least) even though Wayne is not his dad and Eddie is not his son – Wayne always seems to know exactly what’s wrong with him at any given moment and it would be maddeningly frustrating if Eddie didn’t rely upon it completely.

The Munsons have never been good at talking about their feelings, and Eddie feels so much all the time.

He thanks Wayne profusely and swears he’s going to make it up to him.

“Just don’t let the big guy break any more furniture.” Wayne huffs down the line, wrenching a watery laugh from somewhere deep inside Eddie.

He would have said something smart about how the only thing that’s going to get broken is Jeff’s neck if he doesn’t behave himself, but he’s already too far gone in his memories as he hangs up and switches over to autopilot to go about getting the place ready for guests…

It was late summer, 1977, and Eddie sat on the steps of Wayne’s trailer, back when it was just that, before it was home— sulking because she was leaving him there again.

It wasn’t her fault, and he didn’t blame her, because he knew she didn’t have any other choice.

Still, he did not want her to go.

His father had gotten himself arrested again, for dealing or boosting a car or any number of his other nefarious pastimes, and his mother was preparing to go through the long, arduous process of bailing him out. That meant Eddie would be spending the night on the couch at Uncle Wayne’s, and while those nights were never bad — it was all television and take out and the novelty of being treated like an adult without being scandalized in the process, like when he was nine and his father took him out to a strip club on the interstate (it was the angriest Eddie had ever seen his mother – she’d blown a gasket) – it was always just the circumstances that sent him to Wayne’s that Eddie hated.

His mother sat crouched in front of him on the stairs and pinched and poked and tried to make him smile. She always teased just a bit too much when things were bad, always told him he was too young to be so serious.

He pouted and told her that she ought to just leave his old man there to rot, not for the first time (though unknowingly the last). She’d wrinkled her nose and agreed with him, pulling him forward by his elbows to wrap her arms around him and blow a raspberry into his cheek. He would have told her he was too old to be treated like that, but in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter and let his mother kiss the offended flesh before standing to talk to Wayne.

Eddie felt the brief warmth of humor give way to anxiety tugging at his heart and covered his ears – he didn’t want to hear her say anything too serious. Serious on Eddie’s mother was always too close to sad, and he hated when she was sad (too many mornings sitting and watching her try to mask last night’s bruises with caked on cover-up, biting back tears and doing her best to smile for him.)

Her voice was hushed and thick with emotion as she spoke.

“I’ll be back when I can, but…” he heard her suck in a sharp breath, “I don’t know, Wayne, it just — it took so long the last time –”

Wayne cut her off, patting her on the shoulder and speaking in a soft, reassuring voice.

“I know, Darlin’. You take as long as you need,” and then he made a point to perk up, raise his voice to try and make himself sound chipper, for Eddie’s sake – chipper is an emotion that has never worked on Wayne. “We’re gonna be just fine. It’s gonna be fun. Right, Bud?”

He nudged Eddie gently with the toe of his boot, but the only response he could muster was a dejected sigh, propping his head up with his fists, elbows perched on skinned knees.

He reached down to ruffle his hair and Eddie jerked moodily out of his touch and buried his face in his knees as his mother tut-tutted him.

“Hair’s gettin’ real long…” Wayne mused, sucking his teeth, “Maybe we’ll give you a trim while your mama’s gone,”

The thought of it set Eddie’s heart beating at a pace – his father was always trying to cut his hair, spitting hateful slurs and insults about the “kind of men kept their hair long” – thankfully, his mother spoke up.

“Oh, no, don’t.” She said quickly, reaching down and running her fingers fondly through Eddie's curls, “We like it long, right, Baby?”

He didn’t answer, but he could feel her looking at him, waiting patiently. A sprig of defiance wormed its way up through his midsection, and Eddie decided he would stay quiet for the rest of his life if he had to.

His mother just sighed – she didn’t have time for a tantrum, the one his father was sure to throw was arguably worse than the one Eddie was kicking up. She had to go, so she turned on her heel and started down the gravel drive.

“I’ll be back soon. Love you, Teddy Bear!” She called, waving over her shoulder— her massive collection of keychains jangled loudly as Eddie peeked up from his knees to watch her make her way back to the car.

The Munsons were all packrats in their own way – his mother collected keychains and magnets, Wayne collected novelty mugs and baseball caps, and his father collected felonies and arrests… Eddie supposes now that he collects regrets. He wishes he’d done more to commit her to memory, he wishes he’d done something to make her stay…

“I love you!” She said again, louder, stretching the phrase lyrically and trying to bait him.

He wired his jaw shut – maybe if he didn’t say it back she’d stay until he did. Maybe he’d never say it again and she’d never leave him.

Still, a sudden spike of anxiety flared in his chest as something screamed at him to call out to her, make her turn around and look at him one more time. Just in case.

Just in case what? Just in case you never see her again.

“Don’t let him drive!” Eddie shouted at his mother’s back, pushing up to stand on the steps like if somehow he were a little taller it would help drive the message home.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Please, don’t go.

She stopped as she pulled the driver’s side door open and smiled – a wry, crooked thing that indented her cheeks with dimples.

“I never do.”

She winked, and slipped in behind the wheel and out of his life because no matter what she assured him, she didn’t ultimately have a say in who drove home that night, no matter what his father had taken or how fucked up he was.

He drove. They crashed. She died.

The funeral was open casket, and Eddie refused to move from his seat. He didn’t want to see her, not like that – he wanted her here, smiling and laughing and teasing too much and collecting stupid novelty keychains and breathing, not cold in the fucking coffin his father had put her in.

The son of a bitch had tried to drag him up there to “pay his respects”. He seized him by the scruff and told him not to be a pussy, but his arm was in a sling from the accident and he couldn’t get a good enough grip on Eddie to hold him to the spot when Wayne stepped in and pulled his brother aside for an extremely tense, hushed conversation.

The repast had been at Benny’s because she’d worked there long enough that the staff was like family and their house was too small to host. His father somehow managed to get himself completely blackout drunk, despite the lack of any booze being served, and made a huge scene – like he always did, and Eddie sat there trying to endure the violence of his hatred for the man.

Why couldn’t he have just let her drive? Why did it have to be her? Why hadn’t she been wearing her seatbelt? Why why why…

His grief was too big, he didn’t know what to do with it or where to put it, and it made Eddie so angry. Angrier than he had ever been in his life. It made him brave— or perhaps vitriolic— and when his father shouted and slurred and swatted at him like he always did, Eddie grit his teeth and spat the venom right back.

For all the times he’d sat helpless, for all the times she’d sent him to run and hide, he finally stood up.

He paid for it, of course, with a hard crack to the face that knocked him right back down, and before his brain could stop rattling around his skull enough to catch up to his body, Eddie hit one of the first of many hard limits he would pass with the old man over the next few years.

With a bloodied, broken nose, he bolted from the diner and ran all the way out to the interstate. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he meant to get as far away as humanly possible, from his father, from Hawkins, from his grief and the terrible life he knew he surely faced without his mother to act as a buffer. Even at eleven years old, he knew he didn’t have a chance if he stayed.

This town would kill him if he stayed.

The first and only car to pull up beside him had been a rusty pickup – it was Wayne, because of course it was, and he rolled alongside Eddie in the truck at a glacial pace on the shoulder of the wrong side of the road for the better part of twenty-five minutes as he tried to talk his nephew down.

Eddie continued to walk, wiping blood and tears on the sleeve of his suit jacket and refusing to be coaxed into the cab until he’d learned that the cops had picked his father up and he wouldn’t have to go home that night. When Eddie finally relented and climbed up into the passenger seat, he saw that Wayne’s knuckles were cracked, swollen, and bleeding on the steering wheel.

He didn’t have to ask to know what had happened – he hoped his father hadn’t been too drunk to feel every second of the beating Wayne had given him — Eddie hoped it hurt as bad as it did when Wayne set his broken nose later that night, sitting perched on the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth and biting back tears.

It would be another two and a half years of days like that before the old man would finally go to prison.

With Wayne’s blessing, Hellfire resumed at the Munson trailer, and by 8:30 that Friday in April, everyone was piled into the little living room, huddled around the replacement, decidedly less nice coffee table, and Eddie could finally breathe again.

Except that Jeff was fully committing to the bit of being bizarrely hostile, in his own completely non-threatening way. Eddie thought it was exceedingly strange – and more than a little rude considering he would have been meek as a mouse if he had found himself allowed back into a home where he’d so unceremoniously destroyed a treasured piece of antique furniture, but he couldn’t really kick up the gusto to be angry about it, because Jeff was being hostile no matter where they were.

“Hey, what the fuck is Jeff’s problem?” He’d asked Gareth one day, sitting huddled over his notebook in the back of second-period English Lit while Mrs. Faulkner droned on about some old dead guy.

Proust or some shit.

Gareth had merely shrugged his flannel-clad shoulders in feigned ignorance and done his best to look innocent as the color drained from his face and his eyes went wide. Of course, that reaction suggested he knew exactly what Jeff’s problem was, but the old harpy had screeched a warning at them about cross chatter and threatened detention from the blackboard before Eddie could press him further on it.

The issue with doing everything with the same group of people is that when you have a problem with one of them, you have to see them everywhere you go. Jeff is a member of the Hellfire Club as well as Corroded Coffin, so Eddie has to deal with his snarky, backhanded remarks pretty much wherever he goes.

It is, at best, mildly annoying and at worst, deeply confusing.

Eddie can’t wrap his head around the shift in his attitude, except that once, when you were still very new to each other — the first time he’d ever brought you to hang out with the guys as his officially official girlfriend, in fact — Jeff had pulled him aside at the end of the night and drunkenly warned Eddie that if he ever hurt you, he would kill him.

It had been an intense and slightly off-putting way to end what had been a generally pleasant evening, but Eddie had just chalked that up to Jeff being… well, Jeff. Poor social skills and all too easily impressed by nice girls who showed him even the slightest bit of kindness or attention.

You’d laughed about it on the car ride home, not unkindly, though. You thought his crush on you was sweet, like the crush the kid you babysat had on you. And then you’d sat in the car eating ice cream and discussing life’s most important questions; who would win in a fight – Jeff or Eddie...

Eddie had just been happy to get to share you with his friends and integrate you into the group without it being weird so that he didn’t have to parcel out his time between the band, D&D, and you.

He knows you would have won out over his friends every time, though he’s not sure they could have held it against you.

He used to love how much they loved you until he told everyone about the breakup.

He’d said it was mutual, and maybe he’d let them believe that it had been more your idea than his — he doesn’t know why, maybe he’d thought it would be easier to stomach if he could manage to be pissed at you, but he couldn’t muster it and it didn’t make him feel any better to say it.

Despite everything, Eddie can’t help but shake the feeling that all of his friends have taken your side. Somehow they know he hurt you, and he supposes if Jeff had meant he was going to annoy him to death it’s working marvelously.

And then there’s Dustin.

Dustin Henderson, who spends all his time talking about his babysitter and hangs out with that pretentious douche Steve Harrington when he isn’t following Eddie around like a lovesick puppy.

He can’t deny he has a soft spot for the kid, even if he is annoying as hell, and Eddie does feel bad about biting his head off over the whole situation with the diner. He’d thought it was actually very cool that the kid even tried to find them an alternate place to play, and he’d been sincere in his apology at the campus phone, but he also knows he’d gone a little overboard in the teasing, especially with that bizarre conversation with Dustin’s babysitter that followed.

It hadn’t been Eddie’s fault, not entirely.

He’d already been feeling too manic, his senses dialed up to eleven at the thought of having to go back to Benny’s, but Dustin was also just entirely too easy to tease. He was, perhaps, just a tad too flirtatious with the babysitter on purpose, just to ruffle Dustin’s feathers — Eddie is big enough to admit that that was a fuck up on his part.

The connection over the payphone had not been the greatest, just as much static as voice, and somehow he’d fooled himself into thinking the girl on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like you. So much like you that if he tries very hard, he can convince himself that it had been you on the phone that day. It wasn’t, he knows this, but in his heart of hearts?

The teasing, the cadence of her speech, the specific little phrases she used, her laugh? Christ – the way she’d laughed had been enough to make Eddie weak at the knees because he swears to God, Tiamat, Ozzy Osborne, whoever is out there listening, that it had been you laughing on the other end of that phone call — but then she’d hung up on him, and Eddie knew he’d been deluding himself, projecting you into some random girl he’d probably scandalized.

He imagines some snotty cheerleader on the other line, lying on her bed, twisting her perfectly manicured fingers in the phone cord, popping bubble gum, and kicking her feet —painting the picture of a pretty little fantasy until she realizes who she was talking to, until he tells her his name. Then he pictures her sneering and slamming the phone into the box with a harsh grunt of disgust.

She probably felt like she needed to take a shower after that, to wash the freak off of her.

Eddie still can’t believe how badly he’d let his feelings get hurt over it, all because he’d let himself pretend he was talking to you.

Then there was the way Dustin and Wayne acted towards each during that second Friday playing at the trailer. It was a rare day off, and it had seen his uncle rolling up unexpectedly and coming through the door halfway through their session.

Everyone instantly shut up and mumbled their own overly formal, awkward greetings as Wayne surveyed the group. He greeted the boys he knew, regarded the ones he didn’t with a curt nod as Eddie introduced them – Mike and Lucas, and then he clapped eyes on Dustin, and he got stuck. He stared hard and set his jaw, and Eddie could practically see the gears turning in his uncle’s head as he tried to work something out.

It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t noticed the way Dustin was staring right back at him with the same intensity. Like they recognized each other but they didn’t precisely know where from.

Weird.

And then the moment passed, like fixing a skipping record.

“Y’all been playing long?” Wayne hummed, setting his wallet and keys down on the little dining table shoved against the opposite wall.

His addressing Eddie brought the game to a screeching halt and everyone held their breath and waited to see what he would say.

“Few hours, yeah.” he replied cautiously, “Why?”

There was a tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind that warned him they were about to get kicked out and they would have to finish their session with flashlights in the back of his van, but Wayne just shook his head, like it didn’t matter why he’d asked.

He fished his cigarettes from his pocket and patted himself down in search of his lighter, coming up empty.

“You got a light?”

Eddie tossed him his lighter— he caught it effortlessly.

“Well, don’t stop on my account, gentlemen.” He said, pushing a cigarette up to his lips and going right back outside.

The door clicked shut and a collective sigh passed over the room as everyone turned back to the game board and began chattering amongst themselves.

“You think he’s still pissed about the table?” Adam asked sheepishly.

Jeff and Gareth both began to voice their dissent – no, no way that was so long ago — and Eddie had to grit his teeth to stop himself from saying anything too mean about it because it may have been long ago to them but he still hadn’t heard the end of it.

“Of course, he’s still pissed – you guys, shut up about the table already,” Eddie huffed, flipping through the beat-up Player’s Handbook balanced precariously on his knee.

Of course, that only spurred them on to talk more about it. And when Mike piped up, asking “what table” Gareth was all too happy to launch into the story, much to Eddie’s annoyance as everyone lost interest in the game and began laughing and talking.

He propped his chin up on his hand and heaved a dejected sigh, continuing to flip through the book and waiting for them to be done. He just wanted to play D&D, was that too much to ask?

And then he could feel eyes on him. He glanced up to find Dustin staring at him expectantly from where he sat on the floor like he was waiting for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet.

Eddie waited. Dustin waited, and for a long moment, they both just sat, staring, waiting for the other to speak.

“What?” Eddie finally prompted.

Dustin began slowly.

“So…” He said, giving him a quizzical look and shuffling just a little bit closer to where Eddie sat with his knees up in the lazy boy. “How do you know that Wayne guy?”

Eddie wouldn’t say that the question floored him, but he didn’t quite know how to respond. He supposed he could have just answered the question – he’s my uncle – but he was much too caught on the other end of it.

“How do I–? How do you know Wayne, Dustin?” Eddie snapped, well aware that he was biting the kid’s head off over nothing again. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that.”

He could practically hear you in the back of his mind, reminding him that there were no stupid questions, but Eddie stridently disagreed. That was a very stupid question.

Dustin didn’t have a response. He looked more put out than dejected as he threw up his hands and shook his head, but someone kicked up with a concern about snacks or drinks or something variably more important to a group of teen boys before Eddie could chase the thought any further.

It was another twenty-five minutes of trying to corral the group before they finally resumed their session and when Wayne finally came back in, Eddie spent the rest of the night trying not to get distracted by the way he and Dustin sat glancing at each other as he did his best not to lose his flow.

Wayne didn’t have much to say about it later on.

“Do you and Dustin know each other or something?” Eddie asked after everyone had gone, gathering the last of the books and character sheets, and dice.

Wayne sank heavily into his chair — the lazy boy that had served as a poor substitute for Eddie’s throne — with a sigh and beer. He scratched his stubbly chin and furrowed his brow like he had no idea what his nephew was talking about.

“Who?”

Eddie grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping.

“Dustin— the kid with the hat? Braces?”

“Oh.” Wayne said.

He hummed deep in the hollow of his throat, like he was considering whether or not to tell Eddie something, then he picked up the remote and flicked on the tv.

“Nope.”

That was the end of the conversation, no matter how long Eddie stood there in the living room, waiting for his uncle to elaborate. He didn’t, and Eddie finally had to just turn and stalk back to his room with an agitated sigh.

He can’t help but feel that there is a huge piece of the puzzle missing there, one he isn’t sure has anything to do with all the weirdness that has punctuated his days since school started. He tells himself he doesn’t care, so why does he suddenly feel like there is some kind of big conspiracy between everyone he knows going on behind his back? He racks his brain for what the possible connection could be and comes up empty.

He is so goddamn relieved when they finally get back to playing in the drama room.

+++

The counselor’s office looks the same as it always does, all of Ms. Kim’s pictures, degrees, and personal items are still where they were when Eddie was last here, same time last year.

Christ, has it been a year already?

He knows he’s fidgeting more than usual, bouncing his knee and digging his nails into the arm of the chair as he waits for the guidance counselor to speak.

So far she’s just sitting there, staring at him and it's making him very nervous.

The last time he’d been pulled out of class to see Ms. Kim, she’d told him he wasn’t graduating again… and graduation is only a month away now. He’d be lying if he said his stomach wasn’t in knots.

She is smiling sweetly at him from across her desk, hands clasped neatly in front of her and Eddie is still frantically bouncing his knee.

“How are you doing, Eddie?” She finally asks, tilting her head thoughtfully and leaning forward ever so slightly.

He resists the urge to ask her to just cut to the chase. He would much prefer to rip the band-aid off and get it over with – none of this beating around the bush with mindless pleasantries.

Still, his mother had done her best to raise him right, in spite of it all, and he would be damned if he didn’t at least try to be civil with Ms. Kim. She’s never been anything but kind to him, which is not something he can say about most of his teachers.

“Okay, I guess,” he mumbles.

Her face pinches into a mask of concern.

“I heard you’ve been having a bit of a rough year.”

Eddie clears his throat to cover the bitter snort of laughter that tears itself out of him.

“Yeah well, nothing ever really changes around here, does it?” He says, smirking and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “Same shit different day – sorry.”

The silence that blooms between them is more than a little bit awkward. He hadn't meant to swear.

Ms. Kim straightens the stack of papers set out on the desk in front of her and Eddie’s gaze flicks down to try and discreetly see what they are – he can only make out his name.

“So, I've got your transcripts here,” She begins, “And I wanted to talk to you about your future at Hawkins High School…”

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach – he suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Oh come on, my grades can’t be that bad…” He chuckles. It is a humorless sound.

He is going to be devastated if she tells him he’s not going to graduate again. He doesn’t think he can stand another year of this…

He half expects her to give him a piteous look, scrunch her features and turn her eyebrows up in apology, but instead, they jump up towards her hairline and she shakes her head.

“No, actually, quite the opposite. Your grades are…” she trails off, shrugs, “Well, I’m not going to lie to you, they’re still pretty low, but considering what they were this time last year?” and then her lips quirk up into a big smile, “I think you might be on track to graduate next month.”

Eddie would have been less shocked if she’d pulled a gun on him. He's fully aware of how his mouth has fallen open as he stares at her.

“Shut the fuck up!” He gasps, and then, “Sorry – I’m so sorry – I just… y-you’re serious?”

"I'm serious."

"You're not just bullshitting me, right?" Goddammit, Munson, language, "Ah– sh-shoot – sorry."

Despite his language, Ms. Kim is still smiling and nodding – and Eddie doesn’t think she would lie to him about this. Educational staff wasn’t allowed to pull practical jokes, were they? Prank the guy with the worst grades in school by telling him he was graduating? That would be a major conflict of interest, probably illegal even, which means she’s not kidding, and he’s really – finally – going to graduate if he can keep his shit together.

Holy shit.

“I know it’s a little premature to say, but congratulations.” Ms. Kim says.

Eddie almost doesn’t hear her.

He feels like he’s going to burst, though for the first time in a long time it’s from happiness and not some kind of devastating attempt to hold himself together. Eddie only realizes how broadly he is smiling as his hands come up to clasp either side of his face. Shock is the only word he can think to describe what he feels, elation maybe? Dumbfoundedness?? Mostly, he can’t believe his stupid luck.

No, not luck, hard fucking work is more like, he’s been kicking his own ass all year and it’s finally paying off. He suddenly can’t wait to tell someone, everyone, get up on a table and shout it at the denizens of this wretched place – take a good last look, everybody, Eddie Munson is finally getting out of here.

“That being said–”

God dammit.

“–you’ve got one grade that you need to pull up. Mrs. O’Donnell’s class–”

Eddie's heart sinks a little. He's not sure any one of his teachers hates him more than Mrs. O'Donnell does. She would fail him just to spite him if it didn't mean she would have to endure another year of him in her class.

“– you’re close though, D is a passing grade. I should mention, however, that if you don’t manage it–”

“Oh, Christ – don’t say that!”

Eddie’s not superstitious, but he can’t help but jump forward and wrap his knuckles sharply on her desktop with both hands. It’s made of sheet metal – shit.

Is it bad luck to knock on wood when it’s not made of wood? He doesn’t know.

You would have known because you always had little bits of random information for him like that.

You were a purveyor of secrets and forbidden knowledge – you were Lady Midnight.

God, he wishes he could tell you the news, wrap you up in his arms and spin you around and around until he can't stand up straight.

Ms. Kim carries on about how there’s no shame in getting his GED and how best to stay on track for graduation, but Eddie isn’t listening anymore.

He’s too busy picturing the alternate universe where you still lived in Hawkins. Maybe you had a place together, one of the tiny apartments above or behind or in the basement of one of the buildings on Cherry Street.

He imagines he’d go straight from Ms. Kim’s office to find you at work, wherever that was – maybe you worked at Family Video with that asshole Keith and he’d find you behind the counter, or maybe you had some office job that he’d pick you up from every night at five.

He imagines the way your face would brighten when he told you — Baby, you won’t believe it, I’m finally fucking graduating! — your eyes would go wide and you’d scream and throw your arms around him and jump up and down. Everyone would stare because everyone always stared at the both of you, but you wouldn’t care because Eddie was graduating.

You’d be so excited that he would have to pry you off of him, and then you'd take him by the hand and insist you go out to celebrate immediately.

“Let’s go to Enzo’s and get drunk and eat our weight in breadsticks and lasagna,” You’d say, sidling up and tucking yourself beneath his arm.

And Eddie would scoff because there’s no way either of you could afford Enzo’s, but he would never deny you a good time.

“Sounds great, Sweetheart, we don’t have to pay rent this month,”

Of course, that was never going to happen.

Realistically, he thinks if he had the chance to tell you, your face would scrunch in sadness or maybe even anger, because you’d worked so hard tutoring him last year, all for nothing. All for him to break up with you just because he was jealous that you’d graduated and he didn’t, because you’d promised you weren’t going to leave him behind and he hadn’t believed you.

Maybe this was the start of Eddie finally getting his shit together, but what is the point of moving on if you aren’t going to be there waiting for him?

He’d spent so long imagining the moment when his life would finally jump out of stasis — graduating, moving on, moving out, getting his own place, getting a real job, and maybe – if he was really lucky – even someday getting married. Settling down with someone kind and fun and funny and eventually having a couple of little Munson brats of his own, running around wreaking havoc and living the childhood he always wished he’d been lucky enough to have.

He doesn’t want any of that on his own, he doesn’t want it without you – as cheesy, sappy, rom-com bullshit as that sounds.

He'd spent too long imagining his life with you.

Whatever scenario he drummed up for his future self — whether the band took off and he made it big and became this ridiculously famous rockstar living in a mansion out in LA, or even if he just got a job at a mechanic’s shop somewhere that barely paid him enough to make rent — you were always there with him.

Filthy rich or dirt poor, you were supposed to be hitting those milestones together.

He’s going to graduate next month and you’re not going to be there.

Eddie's heart is hammering against his ribs again, and he flexes his fingers to keep his hands from shaking.

It always hits him in the worst moments...

There is no rhyme or reason to his path after Ms. Kim turns him loose. For lack of anywhere better to go, Eddie heads straight for his locker, because he doesn’t think he can stomach sitting through class — he doesn’t know what he plans to do when he gets there.

Maybe he’ll grab his shit and leave — cutting class is not a good look when you're trying to graduate — maybe he’ll slam his head in the door until the blood stops roaring in his ears or his head falls off or something — can't graduate if you're dead — can't have a panic attack if you're dead either.

He fumbles with the lock until he can get the door open then, for lack of anything better to do, sticks his head inside, hands gripping the metal tightly as he tries to take deep breaths.

It’s nothing compared to a sink full of ice water, and the relative dark is not enough to be calming, but it’s better than nothing.

Calm down calm down calm down calm down calm–

“Are you okay?” he thinks he hears you ask.

Eddie whips back from his locker and cracks the back of his head against the door – ow – and it’s not you standing there, staring at him through your lashes, of course, it’s a cheerleader.

Chrissy Cunningham, he remembers after a moment of static. Red-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, sweet face, heavy blue eye makeup. She’s wearing jeans and a soft white cardigan and Eddie realizes he didn’t recognize her without the greens and golds of her cheer uniform. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her out of it.

The phrasing makes him feel like he could start blushing.

She’s staring up at Eddie with big, wide eyes, filled with concern, and maybe something halfway to fear. It takes him a moment too long to realize she’s waiting for him to answer the question she’d asked.

“What?” He asks a little too loud, swallowing hard.

Her voice is very quiet when she answers.

“I just … asked if you’re okay…?”

“Oh… Yep— I mean — yeah, no. Yes. I’m fine.” Real smooth, keep talking cool guy, “I was just— I was looking for something.”

He gestures nervously to his locker, glancing at its messy contents before reaching out and snatching the first thing he sees. A broken pencil. Great.

Eddie has never been good at thinking on his feet — there is always as good a chance that he’s going to make a complete fool of himself as he is going to come across as smooth. Even when he’s confident that things will go well, his brain has this nasty little habit of betraying him at the last moment and short-circuiting, as had happened that first moment he’d tried to talk to you in the lunchroom.

He may as well have just stabbed himself with the broken pencil for how thinking about that makes his chest hurt.

Still, he holds the pencil up to Chrissy, like he needs to prove that he’s okay. He’s not.

“Found it.” He says.

She stares at him, wide-eyed and blank for what feels like an excruciatingly long moment, and then she smiles — giggles even, in spite of herself, pursing her lips and casting her gaze downward. It’s a soft, shy thing that carries shades of the way you’d looked at him the first time he’d ever spoken to you. It makes Eddie’s heart thump.

In a moment he remembers himself and slams his locker door shut, putting the pencil behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest like he suddenly feels the need to protect himself.

Cheerleaders don’t usually talk to him unless it is to say something nasty or to try and buy from him … or that time in his first senior year when the cheer captain cornered him in the bathroom at a party and tried to coerce him into having sex with her out of some kinky, rebellious fantasy she’d wanted to fulfill before she graduated — you’d thankfully come to his rescue before anything could happen.

Girls like Chrissy Cunningham, who wear their innocence like a veil and date sports stars most certainly don’t talk to guys like Eddie.

It makes him nervous.

“Uh … sorry, did you… want? Something?”

Her eyes grow wide, like she’s been accused of something untoward and she looks away again, scratching nervously at her ankle with the toe of her immaculate white sneaker.

“Oh. Yes… actually.” Chrissy says, “Um, s-so… I was told that you— like … I mean if I wanted to get … something? You would have it.”

It takes him a long moment to untangle the sentence, and he’s a little dumbfounded when it finally comes undone. Maybe he was wrong about her because according to his translations, Chrissy wants one of two things from Eddie: sex or drugs.

Somehow he doesn’t think she’s coming on to him so that just leaves option two, which doesn’t leave him any less flummoxed.

“You wanna buy?”

It sounds much more like an accusation than he intended.

Chrissy twists a delicate finger tightly in the hair at the nape of her neck, garroting the tip of her digit and doing her very best not to look directly at Eddie. Her face is ever so slightly flushed pink as she bites at her lower lip and nods.

In spite of the bizarre situation, Eddie does think she is really very pretty, in a way he’d never noticed before.

He swallows and clears his throat to stop his voice from cracking as he continues.

“…What, uh— what were you in the market for… specifically?” He asks.

Chrissy glances at him from the corner of her eye and twists her sleeves down over her hands. She hesitates like she has absolutely no idea how to answer the question. Suddenly, her eyes are bright and shining, like she is ready to cry, and Eddie’s heart is in his throat.

He can’t stand to see people crying – girls, in particular, it makes him feel helpless, too much like watching his mother put makeup on over the bruises on her face. His hands twitch at his sides as the impulse to somehow try and comfort her becomes nearly overwhelming.

“Hey — hey… it’s okay. I’m not gonna bite you.” He says softly, resisting the urge to take a step toward her.

And do what, hug her?

That’s what he would have done with you, pulled you close and held you tight until you’d calmed down. Eddie doesn’t dare cross that line to touch Chrissy, he’s half convinced she might combust into flames if he did, innocent little bird that she is.

Innocent little bird trying to buy drugs.

He hopes she knows he means no harm as suddenly she becomes very interested in her sneakers, tugging at the hem of her big cardigan.

Eddie dips his head to try and meet her gaze, make her look at him – all she’ll do is glance at him, and he smiles at her when she does, in a way he hopes is reassuring. The moment of emotion thankfully passes quickly and Chrissy comes down again – she’s no longer on the verge of tears and Eddie can relax… at least a little bit.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah— yes. I’m sorry… I’ve — I’ve never done this before.” She mumbles, chewing the inside of her lip.

“That’s okay…” He assures her, shaking his head, “Everybody starts somewhere… I guess – uh – I guess I should’ve asked what kind of results you’re after?”

She blows out a tense breath and purses her lips like she really has to think about it.

“I don’t know… I—um… I've been having …n-nightmares?” She mumbles, then shudders bodily, like a sudden chill has ripped through her. “Terrible nightmares.”

For half a moment, she gets this scary, far-away look in her eye and it’s enough to stop Eddie from thinking about how her admitting that feels a tad too much like oversharing, considering they don’t know each other…

That’s not true, He tells himself, You do know Chrissy… second grade. Project on manatees – she came over and mom helped us work on it…

And then like being struck over the head, he’s reminded of another seriously unhelpful bit of information for the moment Eddie has found himself in.

She came to Mom’s funeral…

Eddie nods sagely, “You wanna sleep better.” he hums, trying to banish the image of black clothes and sorrowful faces standing around as a coffin is lowered into a grave — a much younger Chrissy stealing a shy glance at him before ducking back to hide behind a pair of legs.

Eddie wonders if she remembers any of that.

Chrissy returns the motion, a sharp jerk of her head in affirmation. It’s reassuring. At least he knows what he can sell her now.

“Okay.” He feels himself smiling without really being aware of how it got there, and he shrugs, “Well, hey, I’ve got the cure—“ Eddie stops short and tries to blink the living room at Rick’s place back on its axis — I’ve got the shit for what ails you — he’s quick to correct himself, shaking his head to try and clear the sudden smokey haze from his mind, “I’ve got something for that,”

Chrissy nods again and then brings up a hand Eddie hadn’t realized she’d had clutched in a fist. Slowly, her fingers unfurl to reveal a crumpled hundred-dollar bill.

“How much will this get me?”

Eddie almost laughs out loud at the sight of it. It’s more than he’s ever even paid to refill his whole stash.

Much more than you’re gonna need, Sweetheart, he wants to say, but he can suddenly taste whiskey on the back of his tongue and his head is buzzing with static.

Eddie rubs his hands down his jeans where his palms have become sweaty, and he tries to pass the nervous motion off like he’s searching his pockets.

“Well, I don’t— I don’t have anything on me right now…?”

“Oh!” Chrissy chirps, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates and freezing a moment as her fingers snap closed on the money again. “Sorry–”

“It’s fine, I’ll just...” Eddie makes a show of jerking his thumb over his shoulder, but Chrissy is shaking her head before he can finish the thought.

“No, no that’s okay—I just thought… nevermind, it doesn’t matter…”

She trails off, color bleeding into her cheeks as the interaction suddenly starts to feel like it’s fizzling out.

Eddie is quick to try and smooth things over because strangely he is suddenly very concerned with what Chrissy thinks about him. He suddenly wants so badly for her to think he is nice.

“No, I mean — like, if you wanna come back around tomorrow?”

An awkward silence blooms between them as she considers the offer.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes, a soft, lilting question that has Eddie smiling at her again.

He notices that her two front teeth are ever so slightly crooked in a way that is painfully endearing. She’s much too sweet for this, he shouldn’t be agreeing to deal to her, but he suddenly feels the closest he has felt to his old self in months, standing there in the empty hallway, talking to Chrissy Cunningham — Eddie before you.

“Yeah.” He says gently, “Yeah—we could meet after school…”

She hesitates, worries her lower lip, and continues to avoid looking at Eddie. It doesn’t feel malicious so much as bashful, like maybe it didn’t matter that it was him she was talking to, like she would have been this shy trying to buy drugs from anyone.

Her brows come together, scrunching down over her big pretty eyes.

“Tomorrow’s the pep rally,” Chrissy says softly, like she’s letting him down.

It hits Eddie like a fist to the gut, and darkness begins creeping in at the edges of his vision. He takes a slow, deep breath in through the nose and blinks rapidly.

“You don’t want to go to the pep rally.” He can suddenly hear you saying, somewhere very far away.

Eddie digs his nails into the palm of his hand until it hurts in an attempt to try and banish you.

“Right.” He says, forcing himself to breathe normally.

Chrissy finds the courage to finally look at him then, if only briefly — her eyebrows are turned up apologetically.

“…And the championship game,” she says.

“You just want to go and antagonize the basketball team…”

“That’s also true.” Eddie hums, nodding.

He’d caught you on your way out of class, throwing his arm around your shoulders and trying to steer you towards the gymnasium before you’d shrugged out of his reach.

No, of course, Eddie didn’t want to go to the pep rally, but an injustice had been delivered upon the Hellfire Club by said Hawkins Tigers, and by code of law, action begets action. He didn’t know what he planned to do – make a scene, probably heckle and taunt the players from the bleachers, be generally disruptive – but you wanted absolutely no part of it.

Your refusal was an idle thing, yet dagger sharp.

Eddie staggered, throwing himself back against a row of lockers and gasping dramatically as he pantomimed being stabbed. You hardly reacted, rolling your eyes and leaving him behind as you made your way further down the hall toward your locker. You were used to his antics by now. He watched you go.

“Me? Antagonize the basketball team?” Eddie called, jogging to catch up, “I would never–”

“No, of course not.” You said, the sarcasm oozing off of you thick enough to leave a gooey trail in your wake. “Because you’re just bursting with school spirit, right? – Go sports!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, coming to a sliding stop at your side as you found your locker amidst the row.

“Oh, come on, Sweetheart, give me a little credit here. I’m peppy as hell. I’ve got pep in my step,” The statement was punctuated by Eddie jumping up and down beside you.

Again you rolled your eyes, and turned your attention to fidgeting with the sticky padlock clipped to your locker.

“Look, if we go, it’s gonna be weird that we’re even there in the first place and you’re just gonna push it and push it until one of those meatheads decides he’s offended by something and causes a big scene – because that’s what always happens – and it’s just so much easier not to go and avoid all that drama in the first place.”

You were right, because you were always right, but Eddie didn’t have to tell you that.

“How dare you,” He gasped, feigning offense, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest, clutching phantom pearls, “Here I am, bearing my heart and soul, and you won’t even entertain the idea of being seen in public with me. Heartless – that’s what you are.”

Of course, by then you were openly ignoring him and his antics, which absolutely would not do, so Eddie changed tactics. He reached out and pinched the flesh of your cheek between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hey, can you blame a guy for wanting to support the home team?”

You jerked out of his touch and swatted angrily at him.

And then, perfectly on cue, there came the basketball team. The hallway parted like the sea as people made way for Hawkins’s best and brightest (and most popular) flanked by the ever-present cheerleading squad, like a green and gold cloud of preppy little gnats.

Eddie clenched his teeth as he watched the group pass, feeling judgment rolling off of them in tangible waves, like invisible daggers hurled in his direction – worse still in your direction, because they’d offered you a choice and you’d picked him over them.

He just couldn’t help himself.

“Go Tigers!” Eddie shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

The phrase “if looks could kill” passed briefly through his mind as they turned to regard him. He felt a strange mixture of satisfaction and chagrin as they did their very best to kill him dead, satisfaction for how he’d gotten under their skin without doing basically anything, and then chagrin as he saw how their disdain for him extended to you.

That made it less fun – still, he committed to the bit.

“See?” Eddie said, gesturing down the hall towards the group of fading athletes, “Think about how fun it would be to sit through three whole hours of that.”

You watched them go – your old friends – and turned to look at him. Something fluttered across your face, and for half a moment Eddie was afraid he’d gone too far and hurt your feelings somehow. Then you narrowed your eyes.

“I thought Eddie Munson didn’t do school functions?” You teased, though there was real bite behind it.

Eddie cringed bodily – he understood that reference.

In the weeks before he’d mustered the courage to ask you out, you’d asked him if he was going to that night’s Sadie Hawkins dance. Eddie had scoffed and told you “I don’t really do school functions,” like it was some kind of running joke.

The Hellfire guys had laughed, and you’d tried your best to join in, but he’d seen the look of disappointment flash across your eyes and the way your face fell. You’d mumbled a quiet, “oh, okay, nevermind then” before quickly excusing yourself. It only occurred to him that you’d been asking him to the dance several hours later, while he was sitting on his bed working out the chords to a song you’d said you liked.

Eddie was sure his neighbors must have thought he was being murdered with the way he’d screamed when it hit him. He was a fucking idiot, and he knocked over just about every piece of furniture and clutter they owned in his panic to get to the phone and call you. It was too late for the dance, and he barely let you get a word in edgewise as he stumbled over apologies and excuses and promises to make it up to you somehow – he was still making it up to you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He groaned, thumping his head against the locker beside yours.

You gave him a sly, sidelong glance, your lips quirking at the corners and eyes flashing in triumph as you finally managed to jimmy your locker open.

“Never.” You purred.

Flirting with Chrissy seems like a real funny way of trying to make it up to you, but still, Eddie tries to make himself smile in a way he hopes is reassuring. He hopes it looks a lot more convincing than it feels.

“What if we meet up before the game?”He posits, and Chrissy doesn’t seem convinced, so he keeps talking, “D’you know where that old picnic table is? Out in the woods past the field?”

She nods, still tugging at the sleeves of her cardigan.

There is a soft crease of worry between her eyebrows and Eddie feels a strange combination of warmth blooming in his chest and guilt cramping his stomach as he resists the urge to smooth it away.

She really is very pretty...

“Yeah,” she says, slowly with a newfound sense of surety, “…Okay. Before the game.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. A sigh of relief.

“Okay. So… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

"Okay."

She offers him one more shy smile before turning on her heel and scurrying down the hall.

He watches Chrissy go and very quickly feels the afterglow of talking to a pretty girl give over to guilt as something crumples inside of him.

“Come over tonight?” He’d asked, leaning against the locker beside yours.

You’d cast a sidelong glance his way and offered an apologetic smile as you tucked away your textbooks.

“I can’t – I’m babysitting.”

Ah, the old babysitting excuse – Eddie knew it all too well, and it was not enough to deter him.

“That’s okay, I’ll come to you.” He said, eliciting the expected response, your face scrunching up in the way he loves, brows coming together, eyes narrowing.

“No, you won’t.” you’d huffed, like he’d suggested something positively scandalous.

The suggestion of it was there, of course, a perpetually lingering shadow of arousal that lived between any two people in a consenting adult relationship (particularly if they happened to be a couple of horny teenagers) – still, Eddie couldn’t help but feign innocence.

“Why not?”

“Because.” You pressed, stretching the word, “I’m not gonna be one of those cliche babysitters who sneaks her boyfriend over to make out all night. That’s how you get killed in a horror movie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, hand dropping idly to crook a finger through your belt loop and tug you towards him.

“Oh, come on,” He said, “We’re not gonna make out all night.”

He moved to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear and somehow managed to get lost along the way. Suddenly his hand had come to rest at the curve of your throat, which only went on to suggest a strident contrast to what he’d just said.

No, you weren’t gonna make out all night, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to get you out of your jeans.

“Eddie…” You warned him.

"Ed-die."

You furrowed your brow at his mocking and he just smiled. He knew that tone, it meant “don’t start”, but the way you sighed his name betrayed your steadfastness. It was reminiscent of the way you said it when he had you in a compromising position, with his hands all over you – all whiny and a little desperate, face flushed, lips bitten.

Uh oh, he thought, feeling the stirrings of something in his abdomen that was never so easily banished. Dangerous territory. Proceed with caution.

For the sake of his dignity, and considering you were both still at school, Eddie pivoted – it was a rare act of self-preservation.

“Come on, Babycakes,” he said, sounding perhaps a tad whinier than he’d intended, “I wanna meet the little twerp who’s been trying to steal my girl.”

Your brows came down in stark contrast to the way your face split into a wide grin as your fingers came up to grip the hand that had drifted south to rest over your collarbone.

“Your girl huh?” You purred, tilting your head down to gaze up at him through the thrush of your lashes.

Fuck. He loved it when you looked at him like that, but he knew if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna end up with a raging hard-on – at school, no less – and then what was he gonna do?

Eddie swallowed hard and ran his thumb over the plush spread of your lower lip, despite how it nudged him just a little further down the path of ruin. He had to fight to resist the urge to push the digit past your lips, press down on your tongue.

“Gotta scope out the competition.” He said thickly.

You scoffed then, thankfully cutting the tension with the harsh sound as you jerked your head back, pulling out of his grip.

“He’s not competition, Eds, he’s twelve.”

Eddie shrugged. “Even better, I’ll let the punk know who’s boss.” He could tell you clearly weren’t buying it, so he doubled down, “Hey– hey, I’m great at babysitting — I get those babies flat as a pancake every time.”

Your eyes flashed indignantly and before he could think to move, you jabbed him sharply in the ribs with your knuckle.

“Ah—shit!” he gasped.

“That’s my joke, Munson.”

Eddie hissed a sharp intake of breath and jerked away from the skittering feeling over his ribs as you poked him again and again.

“Baby don’t—ahh!“ He cut himself off with a cry as your hands came down to squeeze at his sides.

The worst thing that had ever happened to him was how you had so unceremoniously discovered just how goddamn ticklish he was, one afternoon when you’d engaged him in a wrestling match. You’d started it, but Eddie had easily flipped you over and pinned you down, holding your hands over your head and ready to torment you until you said “uncle”, but little did he know that you were an incorrigible brat who would not go down without a fight. Not a fair one, at least. Somehow, you’d gotten a hand free and immediately jabbed him in the ribs, pulling an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp from somewhere deep inside of him, startling the both of you. It was all over from there.

Eddie has not known a day of peace since, and today it seemed would be no different.

In some small attempt at self-preservation, he seized you at the wrists and pulled your hands around his back, jerking you forward and forcing you to hug him so that you couldn’t tickle him.

It was not the most ideal solution, considering the growing state of his arousal. You were suddenly pressed flat to him, head forced back so that your chin was resting at the dip of his sternum, gazing up at him with the faintest hint of mischief glinting in your pretty eyes.

If you were a cat, your tail would have been twitching with anticipation.

"Oh good, now that I've got your attention," He started, breathless and a little lightheaded as you tilted your chin down ever so slightly.

And then you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his chest and Eddie yelped. He bit the sound off with a shout of laughter and pushed away from you.

You chased him, because of course you did, vicious harpy that you were – talons extended and reaching to grab at him again. He easily skirted around you in a wide circle, and suddenly you were both laughing and shouting as Eddie proceeded to run up and down the hall, fleeing the threat of your tickling fingers like he was running for his life.

It was an exercise in stamina, as even though he had longer legs, you were the faster runner, and as such, you were on him at every turn, squeezing and poking and pinching.

You really were in rare form that day. Super bratty. Part of him knew he was gonna have to hold you down and teach you a lesson later if you kept it up. That same part of him really hoped you would keep it up.

Your classmates passed you idly in the hall as you played, staring in varying degrees of discomfort as they made their way to the forgotten pep-rally, admonishing your dopey public displays of shouting, laughing affection with sidelong glances and the singular utterance of “get a room.”

In quite the athletic feat, Eddie finally managed to outmaneuver you enough to grab you from behind, pulling your hands across your chest and pinning them there so that you were stuck in a straight jacket of your own body. Once he was certain you were restrained, he walked you back to your locker, compensating for your presence between his legs by taking large awkward steps.

The action was closer to skipping than walking, and by the time Eddie deposited you back to your locker – the both of you noticeably winded from the game – you were giggling hysterically, spinning in his arms and rocking back against the cold metal door. You made no effort to stop him from caging you in there, hands coming up to rest on either side of your head as you lingered a moment, working to catch your breath.

Your face was flushed the prettiest shade of pink from exertion, eyes bright, chest heaving. Eddie watched your tongue poke out to swipe a thin sheen of moisture over your lips, and he swallowed hard.

He had to force himself to drag his gaze up from your mouth.

“So anyway, about me helping you babysit tonight—"

You heaved an overdramatic groan and rolled your eyes as Eddie rushed to continue before you could cut him off.

“Just hear me out— you said he’s a little nerd, right? That’s perfect. Nerds love me,”

“No, they don’t.”

“They do.” He insisted, beaming, “We can play D&D! Like a mini-campaign. Just the three of us – it will be so fun, I promise.”

The corners of your mouth quirked with humor.

“Can I be the Dungeon Master?” You asked.

You were teasing, but Eddie just dipped his head forward to brush his lips against the highest point of your cheekbone.

“Baby, you can be whatever the hell you want if you just say yes.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You hummed thoughtfully and let your head thump back against the hard metal like you were really considering the suggestion.

Eddie pulled back ever so slightly to watch the gears of your mind turning visibly on your face, though he very quickly became distracted as his eyes dipped to the exposed columns of your throat. He had to work very hard to resist the urge to put his mouth on you and suck a bruise into your flesh.

He wondered what the student body would think about that? The Freaky couple going at it in the hallway while the pep rally went on unnoticed? How’s that for school spirit?

Finally, you shrugged your shoulders.

“…I mean… he would love that, actually.”

“Yes!” Eddie cheered, pumping his fist in victory.

He grabbed you by the wrist and jerked your hand up for a high-five, the force of which rang out with a loud clap, echoing through the now-empty hallway and leaving his palm stinging.

You were giggling again, chewing your lower lip like you meant to contain the sound.

“Really though, he’s gonna love you. You guys like all the same nerdy stuff,” you said, rapping your knuckles against his chest. “You’ll be best friends and then I’ll just be that girl from across the street who used to be cool. Last year’s toys —totally lame.”

Eddie caught your hand and held it there, brushing the pad of his thumb across your knuckles and telling himself he didn’t need to tell you just how cool he thought you were, how much he loved you.

He was too caught in the way his heart was suddenly thumping in his chest over the sentiment.

Nobody ever said “oh you should meet Eddie Munson, you’re gonna love him,” — at least not without a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Nobody loved Eddie. Except for you … and the kid you babysat, apparently.

It made him feel like he could burst.

Eddie wanted to linger in the feeling a little longer, bask in its glow, but because he was who he was, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Of course, he’s gonna love me, I’m awesome.”

You snorted with a burst of undainty laughter.

“And so modest!” You teased, eyes growing soft as you walked your fingers up over his chest. “And smart, and funny, and handsome…”

Eddie felt his stomach do a cartoon flip-flop – he was still learning to take compliments like that, and you’d made it perfectly clear that you wouldn’t stand for his self-deprecating comments, which left him standing hopelessly defenseless in moments like this.

He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to hide his face in the crook of your neck, if only to hide the warmth he could feel creeping up into his face.

“Aw, babe…” he mumbled, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Then your hands drifted southward to rest on the buckle of his belt, and Eddie felt something inside of him begin to throb.

He couldn’t tell if it was his heart or his dick.

“Let me come with you.” He suddenly couldn’t stop himself from saying, perhaps a little too earnestly as he did his best to ignore the way your nose wrinkled at the unintended innuendo.

You giggled, and Eddie pushed his lower lip out and pinched his brows in a mock pout.

“No, stop it, I’m trying to be sweet.” He huffed.

You breathed a sigh of soft laughter through your nose and nodded, relenting.

Eddie dropped his chin and nudged your nose with his, glancing up at you through the thrush of his lashes in a gentle mockery of the way you’d looked at him moments before.

“Please?” He pleaded, softly.

At this point, despite how you’d gotten him all worked up, he didn’t even want to have sex with you (that was a bald-faced lie, he would have fully taken you right there against the lockers if this were some kind of cheap porno and if he thought he could get away with it) he just wanted to be near you —always— sit on the couch and watch a movie with you, cuddle you, hold your hand, breathe you in, kiss you, hold you and never let you go.

Truthfully, Eddie just wanted in on the piece of your life that you had yet to share with him, because he was infinitely curious about how you spent your nights entertaining the kid you babysat.

Selfishly, he wanted every part of you to belong solely to him. He was, in fact, more than just a little bit jealous of how much of your time and attention that kid held in his grubby little hands.

It was stupid, he knew that, but you had a knack for making him just a little more stupid than was normal.

You brought your hands up to smooth the wrinkles out of the front of his shirt and drummed your fingers over his heart.

It was a nice prelude to the gentle rejection hanging on your lips.

“Not tonight, Eds.” You mumbled.

Eddie made an unabashedly whiny sound of disappointment in the hollow of his throat and put on a show of pouting as he dropped his head to press his forehead against yours.

“Fine,” He sighed – rather pathetically in the hopes that you would take pity on him enough to reconsider.

You didn’t, but you did surprise him by suddenly fisting your hands in the front of his jacket and tugging him closer, as if that were even possible.

He was fully pressed against you now, pinning you to the lockers, and that little sparkle of mischief was back in your eyes.

“…You should come over after, though.” you breathed against his lips.

Eddie felt heat flaring in his chest, the possibility of “after” dripping down to pool in the pit of his abdomen – he could feel his face splitting in a slow smile as he rocked back on his heels.

“Yeah?”

You nodded slowly, “My parents are in Chicago until next week — and I should be done tonight by eleven-thirty? Then we can hang out, watch a movie, and stuff.”

If he was grinning any wider, his face might have started to peel off, so Eddie bit his lip.

“And stuff, huh?” He echoed, tilting his head in curiosity, “What kinda stuff?”

He knew exactly what kind of stuff you were talking about, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Oh, I dunno.” You hummed innocently, “Maybe play some games?”

“I like games.” Eddie said, nodding emphatically, “What kind of games do you want to play?”

You blew out a breath and rolled your eyes up like you were thinking, even going so far as to tap your chin with your index finger. You were so goddamn cute, Eddie’s fingers twitched with the urge to squish your face.

“Well, there’s Candyland… Twister… Chutes and Ladders?”

It was a stretch, to be sure, but nobody ever accused him of being mature, and in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter.

Chutes and Ladders… Dumb joke. Really trashy. Barely even an innuendo.

Still, he tried and failed to compose himself.

“Sounds good. What next?” Eddie asked, still chuckling.

Your eyebrows jumped, like you couldn’t believe the audacity of him to even think to ask.

“What, and ruin the surprise?”

The surprise was ruined the minute you put your hands on his belt.

It was sex.

You meant sex, but you were too shy to say it outright.

You were the type of person who wasn’t shy about initiating but did so by rolling up with your hands behind your back, eyebrows jumping as you coquettishly asked if he wanted to “fool around”, and it was so incredibly cheesy Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little more madly in love with you for it.

His heart was so full with the feeling, the declaration of it lived perpetually on the tip of his tongue, but how many times a day could a man feasibly tell the object of his affection he loved her before the words started to lose meaning?

The danger of semantic satiation was ever-present.

“You,” he said, taking your face in his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, again and again, each following word punctuated with another chaste peck, “Are,” Kiss. “An incorrigible,” Kiss. “Tease.” Kiss kiss kiss. “And a mean, mean girl. How am I ever supposed to make it to eleven-thirty?”

You stuck him to the spot with a sly look, quirking your brow and pursing your lips.

“You’ve got hands, don’t you?” You said, deadpan.

The boldness of the statement hit him like a slap to the face, and as if it weren’t enough to say it, you punctuated the statement by bringing your fist up and making a slow jerking motion.

“Oh, my God!” Eddie shouted, hands flying down to grip you by the shoulders as he barked out a burst of sharp, incredulous laughter. “Who are you?”

In the distance, he could hear the marching band beginning to play, signifying the start of the pep rally.

You smiled, looking awfully proud of yourself for being so naughty, and then you were serious again, pouting.

“Well?” You prompted, “Edward. I asked you a question.”

Eddie bristled at the sound of his full name and gave you a hard, disapproving look. You just smiled, a cat in cream – you were really gonna pay for that one tonight, and he had to wonder if you knew that.

His fingers scrabbled up to rest at the junction where your shoulders met your neck – because he couldn’t not touch you – fingers gracing the curve of your throat, and he met your gaze.

“Yes.” He said matter-of-factly, “You’re absolutely right, my darling little weirdo. I’ve got hands.”

And then there was that look again. You were pleased as punch and his head was spinning for it.

He bit his tongue to resist the urge to tell you he loved you again.

Eddie had never been this stupid about someone in his entire life – he’d been with other people, had little crushes here and there, some reciprocated, most not, but he had never been in love before, not like this.

Nobody had ever matched his energy the way you did. He knew he could be too much, but his feelings had always been big and unwieldy. Eddie did nothing in small measures, least of all love, and he didn’t know how to parcel it out in manageable bites. Once he was in, he was all in, and he threw everything he had to offer at the object of his affection. You were the first person who had ever accepted it without hesitation, and perhaps most thrilling of all, you’d given it right back.

He could hardly stand it.

He would have married you tomorrow if you’d have him, but that was a secret, something shiny to take out and admire in private moments. That was just for him.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug, and pressed yet another kiss to your temple. He hummed contentedly when he felt your arms snake up around his waist under his jacket and the soft rumble of you sighing against him and he loved loved loved — but still, he just couldn’t help himself.

“I’ve also got a blanket in the back of my van.” He said crudely into the line of your hair.

Then it was your turn to shout with laughter, pushing against his chest. Eddie only held you tighter, deciding he could stand to indulge himself, and you could stand to be squeezed a little.

“Come on, Sweetheart.” He said, teasing a little too much as he hugged you and stretched the words in a singsong way, “Let’s go out to the vaaaan.”

“I don’t have time!” You laughed, the strain of trying to break free of him evident in your voice.

Eddie nuzzled his face into the crown of your head and felt the tickling of static kicking up over his nose and cheeks.

“Sure you do.”

You continued to struggle, and Eddie continued to hold on.

“I don’t want to be late.”

“You can be a little late.”

“No—"

“Yes.”

“Eddie.” You whined, that authoritative warning creeping into your tone again.

Christ, he loved it when you got bossy.

Still, Eddie released you, though only to seize you roughly by the jaw and pull you back to him, slanting his mouth against yours in a forceful kiss. He coaxed you to open up for him just a little more with a swipe of his tongue and the little moan you breathed into him as he licked the roof of your mouth shots all the way down to his balls, kind of like a bolt of lightning, kind of like getting kicked there.

It was not entirely unpleasant.

You were more than just a little bit breathless when Eddie finally released you with a wet, vulgar smack, feeling satisfied enough to start purring, like a cat in cream as he licked his lips. He watched you struggle to open your eyes and hummed contentedly at the sight.

He still had a gentle hold on your jaw, and he was not entirely convinced he wasn’t just going to kiss you again and again, holding you to the spot until you were late to babysit, just because you were that sweet, with your pink lips parted ever so slightly and your face flushed bright red.

Instead, he squished your cheeks in his hand and shook your head back and forth, fondly, before finally releasing you.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” He said, “Begone Succubus! And tempt me no more.”

“Don’t be mean,” you huffed, taking your bag from Eddie as he offered it to you and shouldering it.

Eddie spun you away, and crooked his fingertips to hold on until distance demanded you part. Off you went, looking back at him with a bashful smile and starting down the hall.

He sighed, and watched you go. Eddie pressed his hand to the left side of his chest where he could feel his heart thumping and felt utterly dopey, drunk on your love and lost in the promise of “after”.

Then, he remembered almost too late that he couldn’t just let you go — he had to get you back for biting him— and because you were a brat and he had absolutely no handle on his impulsivity, Eddie took a big step forward and brought his hand down to clap you on the ass with a loud smack.

You yelped and leaped damn near out of your skin, hands flying down to cover the offended spot and face burning as you turned back to glare at him. You stuck your tongue out at him and he could feel the muscles in his face start to hurt from how widely he was grinning.

“See you tonight!” He called, watching you scurry down the hall, shoulders pulled up to your ears because of course —of course— he still wasn’t done, so he raised his voice and shouted, “—you know— FOR THE SEX!”

“Eddie!” You hissed, “Shut up!”

Eddie watches Chrissy go and breathes out a hard, shaky breath to try and banish the way he’s getting dangerously misty-eyed.

When she’s gone, disappeared around the corner, he sinks to the floor to stop his knees from buckling underneath him, and crouches at the foot of the lockers. He groans and crushes his palms into his eyes until he sees bursts of color.

Eddie misses you more than he’s missed anything in his stupid, pathetic life, and he feels guilty for it because he has no right to miss you after he’d so carelessly thrown you away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He can’t shake the feeling that with the perfectly innocent interaction he’d just had with Chrissy, he’s wronged you somehow, betrayed you — more than he already has — and he has to remind himself that flirting isn’t cheating.

You can’t cheat on someone you aren’t with.

He sniffs pathetically and runs the back of his hand under his nose.

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. He wishes he could feel normal again, free from this pervasive guilt, these stupid panic attacks, the crushing vice you still hold on his life after almost a year. He wishes he could be rid of you, and he wishes he would cease to exist for even thinking that.

Nobody’s fault but your own, you fucking loser.

Eddie makes himself think about Chrissy, because that feels easier than missing you. He thinks about her long legs in her short little cheer skirt, the gentle pout of her pink lips, her big wet eyes.

He thinks about how he’s going to see her again tomorrow.

He tells himself he’ll keep on flirting with her if she’s open to it, because she’s nice and she’s pretty and because there’s danger in it.

He knows he’ll definitely end up having sex with her if she comes on to him, because it’s been eight months since he’s felt the gentle press of your body and his hand has been a poor substitute.

Eddie knows Chrissy has a boyfriend, but he doesn’t care, because fuck Jason Carver and the shining white horse he rode in on.

There is a delicious sense of satisfaction in thinking about how goddamn pissed Jason would be to find out Chrissy had been talking to him, let alone soliciting drugs from him.

His perfect little princess.

Eddie thinks he could ruin her and have fun doing it.

No, he wouldn’t. He would do it and feel awful about it afterward because all he seems to manage to do these days is destroy himself a little more.

The thought of using her like that makes him feel sick, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the love you left behind in him. He doesn’t know where to put it. He won’t part with it — it’s all he has left of you — but it’s becoming a weight much too cumbersome to carry.

Eddie tells himself that maybe a rebound is the answer, maybe it’s what he needs to finally start to feel halfway normal again. Maybe it’s time to finally start thinking about moving on… the thought of it breaks his heart all over again.

If he closes his eyes tight enough he can still see you walking down the hall, glancing back at him over your shoulder – sticking your tongue out at him because you think he’s an asshole.

You'd wanted to see him.

He wants to see you so badly it makes his chest hurt… but instead, tomorrow he is going to see Chrissy...

Taglist: @harrys-tittie @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @itsrainingbisexualfrogs @thicksexxualtension @ganseysgff @scoopsr0bin @peanutbutter-y-jams @audhd-dragonaut @clilxlx @alexandriaemily20 @averagestudent03 @but-vanessa @cosmictime45 @timelordfreya @forever-war @munsonzzgf

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #cruel summer #stranger things fic #stranger things #not me hurting my feelings imagining mama munson #and how much of a mama's boy little eddie was #also i'm sad about chrissy #am i just a sad boy like orville peck?#the answer is yes #I’m sorry this is so late getting up it took me literally four hours to edit #cruel summer fic

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thejediandthemandalorian · 1 year

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WIP WEDNESDAY!!!!

I'm in a rush because I thought about doing this earlier and then completely forgot and now there's only...less than thirty minutes left of Wednesday!!! AHHHHHH!!!

Anyways here's an excerpt from my most recent work that I'm very excited to get to a point to share.

He was exhausted and the cold had long since seeped into his bones. More importantly, he had just spent a week and a half with just General Skywalker and Rex and General Kenobi were a sight for sore eyes. Moreso the General than Rex, but he wouldn’t tell his brother that.

General Kenobi looked rather relieved to see both of them, but Cody thought he could still see some concern in his soft blue gaze. He had on a large, warm looking coat that matched Skywalker’s in all but color. The hood was pulled up over his red hair that usually reflected the sun in a way that made him look regal. There was a frown on his face and Cody watched as he glanced at General Skywalker, assessing the damage his former apprentice had taken.

“Rex, would you be so kind as to help Anakin to the medbay, and make sure he doesn’t try to take any detours.” General Kenobi said in a fond voice, a small smile playing at his lips.

A small that Cody dreamed about. It was an image burned into his mind, appearing everytime he closed his eyes. He’d spent so long lying to himself, telling himself he didn’t care what the lips that made that smile felt like. The General’s smile was something he always wanted to see, feel, touch, and taste and he couldn’t take it anymore.

Cody strode forwards towards General Kenobi. There was one thing on his mind and nothing was going to get in his way. With a single motion he ripped off his helmet and tossed it on the ground. When he reached the General, he didn’t stop. Instead he crashed his lips into General Kenobi’s own, finally getting the answer to his question.

“Cody?”

“Obi-Wan?”

The voices were nothing but a whisper in the distance as Cody closed off all his senses to everything but the man before him. He was breaking countless rules right now, but he didn’t care. He was kissing General Kenobi.

The lips under his were soft and slightly chapped. Most importantly they were warm. Oh so warm. Cody could no longer feel the cold in his bones because he was kissing General Kenobi and it warmed every part of him. Fireworks went off in his stomach when unexpectedly, the General began kissing back.

Wrapping his arms around the General he pulled him closer, everything about him was warm. Moments later he felt fingers in his cursedly regulation length hair and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those fingers pulling it to just the right side of painful.

Those thoughts were cut off by General Kenobi tilting his head to the side and deepening the kiss even more. Cody couldn’t tell which one of them moaned but the sound escaped one of them. He felt a warm tongue barely flick against his lips and he wanted nothing more than to indulge this further, but he couldn’t right now. In fact, he needed to come up for air because somewhere along the way he must’ve stopped breathing.

Cody pulled away and inhaled deeply, staring into Kenobi’s soft blue eyes. Those eyes alone could keep him warm even on this icy planet.

“Never leave me alone on a mission with this di’kut ever again.” Cody said before turning and picking up his helmet.

When he chanced a glance at his General and Rex he couldn’t help but smirk. General Skywalker stood there with one arm wrapped around Rex’s shoulders and his mouth agape. Rex still had his helmet on but Cody could tell his jaw was probably hitting the floor right now. He only noticed Rex’s free hand covering General Skywalker’s eyes when the General reached up and tried to move them so he could see.

What a sight they were. Cody held his helmet under one arm and saluted General Skywalker before turning back to General Kenobi. The man was bright red, though he could use the cold as an explanation. Cody took a step forward and the General, who appeared almost dazed, leaned in to try and kiss Cody again. Before he had the chance, Cody held up a hand to stop him and took a side step. General Kenobi stumbled and snapped out of his daze only to look confused as Cody put his helmet back on.

“If you’d all excuse me, I have to go report myself to the GAR.” Cody gave General Kenobi a salute before walking on board the ship.

He was absolutely going to be decommissioned after this.

Anyways hope you enjoyed this little Codywan except. I was gonna add a read more under the cut thing but I forgot how to do that and I'm panicking that it's almost not Wednesday. So sorry not sorry!!

#star wars #commander cody #codywan #obi wan #wip wednesday #wip #anakin skywalker #captain rex #cc 2224 #ct 7567 #rexwalker #rexakin #ahhhh i just love this except so much #its my favorite one right now!!!

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plentyoffandoms · 2 years

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Wheeler Yuta x f/Reader (18+)

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Slow burn, naive reader as she was sheltered. Loss of Virginity. Unprotected sex. Remember to wear protection. Minors do not read.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. Title Photo I got from @allelitewrestlings and they credit: @nkbdpt on instagram

This is over 3000 words. My counter stopped counting for some reason.

Was going to be one part, but got too long.

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Wheeler Yuta Masterlist ♡ Alternate Universe Masterlist

Summary: Wheeler Yuta is a Pirate aboard the infamous Pirate Ship called the Broken Soul. f/Reader is niece of the King. While visiting family in Port Royal, the port is attacked & f/Reader is taken prisoner.

YN'S POV:

My arm felt like it was going to be ripped out of its' socket at any moment as I am practically being pulled behind the man who is trying to save me.

I knew deep down it that I wasn't going to get out of here alive. The guards that I am with are only concerned with getting themselves to safety.

This is not how this night was supposed to go. I came to Port Royal only a week ago to visit my cousin Charles and his new bride, Cicilia.

I wasn't there for their wedding since by the time we got the notice that there was a wedding to be taken place, it already happened, but I was able to convince my Father to allow me to visit his nephew and new bride.

He agreed as he believes that we should always show face, even more so to our family. He is all about his public image. I mean he has to be with being brother-in-law to the King of England.

My Father never wants to step on the toes of my Uncle as my Uncle pays for everything for us.

"Anything for my sister's beautiful daughter." He would always say to me and then he would get sad as he thought about his sister.

My mother passed away two years ago suddenly and it broke not only my Father's heart, but my Uncle's as well. The both of them haven't been the same since.

"Will you move faster?" The guard scowled at me as he looked back at me quickly and then faced forward once more.

"I am going as fast as I can in this ridiculous dress." I told him. Royal fashion is a nuisance in my opinion but I have no say in my choice of clothing. I get handed a box and then the maids squeeze me into the new dress.

He was about to say something else, when we came to a sudden stop. I almost crashed into his back but I was able to catch my footing. I heard the sound of a gun cocking. Before I could even take a peak over the guards shoulder, I heard the sound of a very familiar voice.

"If I was you son, I would put down that sword before you get hurt."

No, it can't be.

I finally saw the man who I was only just dancing with less than an hour ago, Lord William Regal.

The Guard put up a good front and raised his sword higher, but he was shot and killed only a moment later. I felt the blood splatter across my face and chest.

My whole body was trembling with fear as I had tears streaming down my face. I looked around and saw that I was alone and there was no one that was coming to my rescue.

"Now my dear, no need to cry. I am not going to hurt you." The Lord said as he walked towards me. He brought his hand up to wipe away the blood from my face but I flinched. I took a step back and he took a step forward.

This little game happened until I bumped into the hard chest of someone, who wrapped their arms tightly around my body.

I tried to elbow them in the stomach but they were hanging on to me tightly. "Cover her mouth and eyes." A gruff voice said to the right of me and then there was total darkness as my eyes were covered.

I was being carried over someone's shoulder, with my wrists and ankles also tied together. I was wiggling around, hoping that he would drop me, but all the man did was slap my behind and that had me gasping behind the cloth covering my mouth.

"If you don't stop moving, I'm gonna put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours." A new voice said. It wasn't the same as other ones I have heard so far. It had a slight accent to it, but one I have not heard yet.

That had me go still as I did not wish to be killed. It didn't take long to get to where we needed to be, but I knew we were boarding a ship. I could hear the waves hitting the rocks and smell the salty air.

I started to cry once more as I just knew I will end up at the bottom of the ocean after they get what they want from me.

"Put her in the brig and Wheeler, you watch her."

"Yes Captain."

Next thing I knew, I was practically dropped to the floor, crying out in pain. "You gonna be okay there Princess?"

"I'll be fine." Was my muffled response.

"Okay." Came their response and they walked away, their footsteps getting fainter and fainter.

I felt a hand on my head and I flinched away. "Keep still there Princess. I am just trying to take off your blindfold."

The voice for some reason had a calming effect on me and I didn't move as he untied the blindfold.

Once that came off, I had to blink a few times to get used to the light from the latern that was hanging in the corner.

I got a good look at the man, Wheeler as he was called. What a strange and peculiar name, perhaps a nickname?

I reached up with my still bound hands and pulled the cloth down that was in my mouth.

"I am not a Princess." Was my reply and he just smirked at me. "Doesn't matter what your title is, you are the niece to the King, so therefore you are a Princess to us."

I wasn't a Princess, my Uncle never gave my Father a title, so therefore I am not a Princess, but I am not going to argue with someone about such a silly topic.

"Why was I taken?" I asked him.

"You shall see soon Princess."

"Please call me YN. I prefer to be called by my name."

"I do not care what you wish to be called." Wheeler said to me, crossing his arms across his chest. I looked away from him as I couldn't stare at him.

Not because I was scared, no that isn't the reason, but because I could feel myself finding him oddly attractive.

There was no more words spoken between the two of us. He went to sitting on the stool in the corner on the opposite side of the room and I sat in the other corner, crying myself to sleep until I had no more tears left to spill.

I was woken up by someone nudging me with their dirty foot. "Wake up! The Captain wants to speak to you." I looked up and saw a new man standing there. I looked to the corner to see if Wheeler was still there and he wasn't.

"Get up." The man demanded once more.

"I can't. My ankles are still tied together or did you not notice?" My eyes got real wide when I heard myself say that. The man moved so fast, that I didn't even have a chance to do anything.

He hand was around my throat, gripping it. I am gasping for air as he applied pressure. I felt like I was going to black out and then I heard someone say something and he let go of my throat.

"Stop playing around Claudio and lets' go. The Captain is waiting."

"Shut up Jon." The two men started to bicker as I was gasping for air.

Claudio stood and picked me up and placed me over his shoulder and we followed Jon to where the Captain is.

"There she is. Claudio sit her down." I was placed none too gently in a chair. The man gave me one last dirty look and walked out of the room.

"You can leave us too Jon. I am sure that Lady YN and I will be just fine."

"Yes Captain." and the door was closed behind him.

I looked at the man who I knew was Lord William Regal. Last night was not the first time I met him. I met twice before but I had no idea he was a Pirate.

"Did they not untie you? Those men have no idea how to treat a Lady. Wheeler!" The door opened and closed once more and I looked to see the same man from last night standing next to me.

I finally got a good look at him. He had dark black hair, and what looked to be kind eyes, but I knew those eyes have seen and done things that I could only imagine.

"Untie her please. She is not going to cause us any harm."

Wheeler pulled a knife from his belt and I held my hands out to him. He gently gripped my hands and cut through the cloth with ease.

He then got down on one knee and without even asking me, he lifted the layers of my skirt and cut through the cloth that tied around my ankles.

I muttered "thank you" to him as he stood. He gave me a small smile and I couldn't help but return it.

"That is all Wheeler. Thank you." The Captain's voice had me looking at him now and he was looking between Wheeler and myself with an amused smile on his face.

"Eat Lady YN, you must be starving. I know you did not get a chance to eat at last night's feast." I finally noticed all the food that is on the table. My stomach was grumbling but I did not touch the food, having no idea if it is has been tampered with.

"You can eat it, nothing will happen to you. Pick an item and give it to me to eat." I handed him some dried fruit and he winked at me as he popped it in his mouth and chewed. I waited for something to happen but nothing did.

Once I knew I was safe to eat, I dived in and started to eat in such a manner that my own Father would be appalled, but at this moment, I do not care.

"Now you maybe wondering why we have taken you. Now listen and listen closely because this all depends on you my dear Lady." A serious look came across his face.

I listened as he explained I am being held for ransom and that I will be providing the hair pin that my Uncle gave me to add to the ransom note.

"When we dock at the next Port, that is when we will send the letters to both your Father and Uncle. I am sure that both of them will be willing to pay the amounts that will each be asked for."

I had tears that are threatening to fall now. My Father doesn't have much money. He has gambled away most of his inheritance.

That is why he agreed with me going to Port Royal. He wanted me to ask his brother for more money.

When I did ask, my Uncle just laughed in my face. "It is not my problem with what your Father has done with his inheritance my dear niece. He is lucky that the King has not found out."

"Now no need to cry my Lady, no harm will come to you." The Captain said. I am certain his name isn't William Regal.

I didn't say anything as if I told him the truth that may just make him angry and I have no idea what he or his men will do not to me.

Days turned in to weeks and we finally docked at a Port. The ship was running out of food and other necessities.

But I will say over the last few weeks, I have spent most of my time with the one they call Wheeler, who later told me his name was Paul. He is the one who gets the task of watching me the most.

"Paul, do you think it is possible for some water to clean myself?" I asked for the umpteenth time. Every time I ask, the Captain says no.

Paul sighed and said he will try once more.

Wheeler Yuta's POV:

The Captain finally agreed to me bringing her some water to clean herself. I had Bryan help me bring down the biggest basin we have before he and the others left to do what they needed to do.

I put it in the corner of the brig and I had to hide the smile that threatened to show when I heard the happy squeal from her lips.

"It is too hot for a fire, so you will just have to make due YN."

"That is perfectly fine Paul. Thank you once again. When I see the Captain next I must thank him as well."

I turned around the give her a bit of privacy but YN called for me only a few moments later.

"Paul, I need help with the back." I looked down as I walked towards her. YN turned around and I moved her hair to the side. I heard her breath hitch slightly but I tried not to think about that.

A man touching her she is no way used too. From what I know of the King's niece, is that she was very sheltered. So any man even touching her would be a shock to her.

"Thank you Paul." She softly said.

I couldn't stop myself as I leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Anything for you my Lady." I heard her let out a shaky breath as I turned back around, trying to keep myself under control.

I heard her heavy dress fall onto the floor and she got into the bath. I did not wait for her to give the okay as I turned around to look at her.

"I won't be far YN." I sat on my usual stool and watched as she cleaned herself. I didn't even realise I was palming myself through my pants until she asked me what I was doing.

"Nothing."

"You sounded like you were in pain Paul." I closed my eyes at the sound of her concerned voice. I opened them again and she was staring right at me, well at my lap.

"I guess no one told you about masturbing huh?" I felt myself twitch as she shook her head no.

"What is that?"

"It is when one touches themselves to relieve some tension. Have you ever done that?"

"Touch themselves where?" Was her innocent question. She had her arms crossed on the edge of the basin and she was resting her chin atop of them. The innocent expression on her beautiful face had me feeling weak.

"Why don't I show you?" I stood and I slowly walked towards her. "Are you okay if I join you?"

"Yes." My clothes landed on a heap next to hers. She moved forward a bit but there still wasn't enough space as I slid in behind her.

She squealed as I wrapped my arms around her naked waist and had her sit in my lap. I groaned as her ass was resting on my cock.

"Lean back against me YN and just trust me." She did what I asked surprisingly.

I moved my hands from her waist and moved her hair to the side with one. I placed my lips on her neck and gave her a kiss there. With my other hand, I was rubbing her stomach as I worked my up to her breasts.

I started to kiss up and down the column of her neck. I smiled against her skin as YN gasped when I cupped her breasts with both my hands and started to play with them.

"You have such a beautiful body my Lady. It has haunted my dreams for weeks now."

YN's eyes were closed as she enjoyed the sensation of my hands on her body.

I kept my focus on her when I finally moved my hand and slid my hand down her body. Her mouth fell open in a moan and her eyes opened when my fingers found what I was looking for.

I inserted one finger into her pussy and I swore under my breath at how tight she was.

"Paul.."

"Shhh, I got you YN." I whispered into her ear and then I started to kiss and suck at that one spot behind her ear.

I inserted another finger to stretch her out even more. "This is what I mean when I say about touching yourself." I slowly started to move my fingers in and out of her.

Her head was flung back against my shoulder and she was looking up at me, letting out little pants and gasps of air as she experienced all new pleasure for the first time.

"Paul, I feel funny...Like I have to go to the bathroom." She said between each moan and squeal. "You're about to cum YN. Don't hold back. Just relax and let go."

I covered her mouth with mine just in time as she squeezed my fingers with her pussy as she came. She groaned into my mouth as I kissed her for the first time.

Her lower body was shaking slightly as she finally got to experience an orgasm for the first time.

"What about you Paul?" YN asked me as she finally came down from her high.

"Don't worry about me love, I'll be alright." I knew I didn't have much time. The others will be back soon.

YN stood and I groaned loudly at her body dripping with water. She placed her hands on her hips and she scowled at me.

"You helped me, now I want to help you." My cock twitched at the thought of all the different ways she could help me.

"We don't have much time there Princess."

"I asked you not to call me that."

"Yeah, well I like calling you it." I was honest with her.

"Please Paul, I want to help you." I almost said fuck it and pulled her into my lap but then I heard the loud footsteps as the crew boarded the ship.

Part 2 coming soon

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @damnnhausen @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @cashwheelersgirl89 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kawaiikels @auburnwrites @undisputedfandoms

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew x reader smut #aew imagine #aew x reader #aew fanfiction #aew fic #wheeler yuta imagine #wheeler yuta x reader #wheeler yuta #wheeler yuta x reader smut #wheeler yuta x y/n #wheeler yuta x female reader smut #wheeler yuta x female reader #wrestler x reader #wrestler imagine #wrestler x female reader

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t0mcruize123 · 2 months

Text

Stuck with you

Part one🎀🫶

This is the first part to my Charlie Babbitt story which will follow the enemies to lovers trope and have some detailed smut so yeah consider yourselves warned👹 this story was written for @mqverick on her special special birthday so I hope u enjoy the slow burn luv ITS ALL FOR YOU🤭🫶

~Part 1~

My bags weighed down on my shoulders as I stood in line for the plane and regretted packing so much. It was my sisters wedding and I was only flying to Los Angeles for the weekend and yet had five bags. I always brought too much but it was too late to change my mind now - my plane was leaving in a matter of minutes.

“Ray? We’re in an airport, people fly out of airports!” I turned around at the loud voice, “What did you think we were doing this whole time?”

A man dressed in a grey blazer and black shirt stood behind me with a tight jaw. His brow was furrowed and his green eyes were piercing as he glared at his friend. They seemed to be arguing about something and I tried to mind my own business.

“This is very serious Ray,” the man’s voice lowered.

“Very serious,” Ray repeated, his stare fixated on the ground.

“I have to get to Los Angeles alright, so you’re gonna get on that plane.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Figures, the guy loudly arguing in the middle of the crowded airport was going the same way as me.

“You understand me?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to get on the plane.”

“Get on the plane.”

Without a second thought, or rather a first, I spun around to face the man with narrowed eyes. Ray clearly didn’t want to get on the plane, and although I didn’t know him I felt a sudden urge to protect him. He clearly couldn’t defend himself against his friend, so I would.

“Excuse me,” I stepped forward and the man in the grey suit looked at me, “I couldn’t help but overhear your argument-“

“Argument? No we’re not arguing just talking, aren’t we Ray?” His tone was mocking as he turned his head in my direction, “I’m Charlie Babbitt.”

“Charlie,” my nose crinkled, “Your friend doesn’t want to get on the plane.”

His lips parted in surprise before he swallowed hard , “First of all, he’s my brother, and second of all I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping on a private conversation.”

“Private?” My eyes widened, “You’re not exactly being quiet Charlie, I’m sure the whole airport can hear you!”

“We’ll we’re not staying here another second anyway,” Charlie snapped and tugged at Ray’s hand, “Ray wants to go somewhere else where there’s been no crashes, which is impossible because all airlines have crashed at some point or another but that does not mean they’re unsafe.”

“Qantas,” Ray mumbled, rocking from side to side.

“Qantas?” My brow rose.

“Qantas never crashed,” he explained quietly.

“Qantas. Well that’s-“ Charlie threw his hands up in frustration, “I mean that’s gonna do me a lot of good Ray! You see Qantas doesn’t fly out to LA, you’ve got to get to Melbourne!”

“Hey,” people around us were beginning to stare and I didn’t like the way Charlie’s voice was rising, “Here him out-“

“Melbourne Australia in order to get the plane to fly to Los Angeles! Do you hear me?” He bent low so that he was eye level with Ray and I grabbed his arm.

“Stop talking to him like he’s a child!” I argued as Ray began to mumble useless facts to himself. Yes, the situation was awkward and Ray could’ve been a little easier to handle but Charlie was going about this all wrong; yelling was only going to make it worse.

“Look I haven’t got time to be arguing with you and him at the same time!” My face flushed with angered heat as he yelled, “Keep your nose out of other peoples business!”

“It’s kinda hard to when you’re screaming at your brother and making this whole thing difficult,” I snapped back as a muscle in Charlie’s jaw twitched.

“You and I are going to get on this fucking plane!” He turned away from me and grabbed Ray’s arm, “Come on let’s go!”

Ray protested as Charlie dragged him along and I cut in, “Leave him alone! Forcing him isn’t going to-“

Ray let out a screeching cry and slammed his hand against his head. My hands flew to my mouth as people stared in our direction and Ray began to scream louder and louder.

“We’re not going to take the plane,” Charlie murmured quietly as he grabbed Ray’s arm, preventing him from hurting himself, “He’s okay! He’s okay everybody!”

A few people stepped forward and Charlie assured them Ray was fine with a tight lipped smile, “He’s okay. We’re not getting on the plane, just relax.”

I tentatively touched Ray’s shoulder as he calmed down, his breathing regulating as he stared at the floor. My heart was hammering in its cage and I looked back in forth between Charlie and Ray.

Charlie looked at me with a saddened expression, his shoulders tilted in defeat as he murmured, “We’re not getting on the plane Ray, we’re not going to fly. Okay?”

Ray looked up, “We’re not going to fly.”

Charlie bent low to pick up some of the luggage that had fallen, “You tire me Ray.”

“Yeah.”

I shook my head, “Dont blame him, you’re the one who-“

“Will you do us all a favour and shut the hell up?!” Charlie’s fists tightened as he stared down at me, “Who even are you? Why the fuck do you even care so much? Just leave me and my brother the hell alone!”

Fuck. Him.

“All I was trying to do was help because you clearly needed it,” my teeth clenched together, “You have no idea how to take care of someone like-“

“Someone like what?” His head cocked to the side, “Someone like what hm?”

I swallowed and Charlie turned towards his brother, “that’s what I thought. We’re going to drive to Los Angeles, we’re going to drive to LA.”

The two of them were never going to survive in one car together for that journey but there wasn’t much I could do. Charlie began to walk back towards the exit whilst Ray stood still and stared at that same spot on the ground.

“Okay come on Ray,” Charlie spun and slammed his fist against his luggage, creating an echoing bang, “Come on.”

My blood simmered as Charlie offered his brother the bag, “We’re not going to fly just take the fucking bag.”

I Bit back my reply as Charlie and Ray began to make their way out. People were still staring and I knew my face was hot and bothered from all the arguing. God I hated people like Charlie, who always thought they knew best and refused to think otherwise.

“You’re killing me Ray…I just want you to know you are killing me,” Charlie uttered, “We could’ve been in LA in three hours, now it’s going to take me three days.”

My eyes narrowed, “Would it kill you to just shut your mouth for one second and stop complaining?”

Charlie’s body stiffened before he turned his head and spoke over his shoulder, “Fuck. You.”

He spoke in a ridiculing tone as though he was talking to a toddler and my head felt like it was going to explode. Before I could do something I was going to regret, I reclaimed my spot in the line and tried to forget the last five minutes. How could someone like Charlie be looking after Ray? How was it even possible? I sighed heavily and took my spot on the plane, my heart finally calming down as I sat still.

What a way to start my mini holiday - an argument with a random stranger in the airport. I felt a headache growing and pinched the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t let this ruin everything, I hadn’t even left yet.

One of the flight attendants began to make their announcements and I straightened in my seat, “I know this isn’t ideal, but unfortunately all flights to LA have been cancelled as the plane journey has been deemed unsafe.”

Instantly, the people on board erupted into chaos and I felt my own chest burning with annoyance. What did that even mean? Deemed unsafe? The flight attendant tried to speak over the uproar and yelled to get our attention.

“Nobody is able to fly to LA because there’s been a problem with the route pilots usually take,” there was an angry murmur from the crowd and the flight attendant waited for silence before she continued, “however at this airline we understand that some of you had booked hotels and arranged places to stay there in LA already.”

Was I going to get a refund? Charlie had mentioned that the drive to LA would be three days but I didn’t even have a car - could I ask a friend? I had a few in mind but I didn’t want to be a burden to any of them.

“So, we have booked rooms for each and every one of you in a nearby hotel for the week, so you can make new arrangements and cancel your plans. The details have been sent to you and we’ll welcome any questions-“

People began to argue once more and I couldn’t stand the noise, let alone with a growing head ache. Passengers had begun collecting their things and I stood up before the rows got too crowded. Unable to wipe the frown off my face, I stormed past the flight attendant with my luggage and descended the plane.

One week in a crappy hotel? They thought that would make up for me being late to my sisters wedding? I groaned in frustration and tipped my head back. This could not be happening, could this day actually get any worse?!

I unlocked my phone to see the airline had sent an email with directions and information to the new hotel. I had nowhere else to go for the night and if it was free, then I might as well go for it. I’d worry about the wedding and how I was going to get to LA tomorrow, right now I just needed sleep.

Much much needed sleep.

The shower water splattered down onto my face and I closed my eyes to relish in the feeling. I’d checked in at the hotel and my room wasn’t as bad as I’d feared - there were two beds, a desk, and a small tv in the far corner. I only planned on staying here for the night but I appreciated the effort the airline had put in. I could only imagine the cost of booking so many hotel rooms.

I sighed and turned the water off. I needed to shower to clear my head and stop stressing about LA. I was going to get there someday or another, I just had to figure out how. Luckily it was only Tuesday, and the wedding was on Saturday. Even if I drove, I’d make it on time. I just needed a car.

How hard could it be? I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out of the shower, my hair wet and slick against my back. There was a shuffling noise from outside and I turned, but there was nothing there except my reflection in the mirror.

I raked my hand through my tousled hair and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were dark with fatigue and it was a strain to stand still instead of collapsing with exhaustion. I’d changed my whole sleep schedule so I wouldn’t sleep on the plane but now everything was ruined and all my lack of sleep was catching up on me. I feigned a yawn and turned towards the bedroom.

The door swung open and I screamed as a man walked through. He also yelled in confusion and quickly slammed the bathroom door closed again.

What the actual fuck?

I leaned against the bathroom door and listened to the man pacing around outside. Why was he in my hotel room? Wait, how did he even get in my hotel room?

I looked down to see the towel was still hanging loosely on my body and wondered if he’d seen me naked? When id screamed, my hand had slipped but I don’t think I’d flashed him.

God this was so embarrassing. The man knocked on the door and I startled back, heat flaming my cheeks.

“Excuse me miss?” His voice was muffled from the other side of the door, “I’m so sorry to have walked in.”

My brow furrowed, “It’s alright…I’d appreciate it if you’d leave though so I can come out. It is my room.”

There was a moment of silence, “I’m sorry but I think you’re mistaken. I’ve got my message here from the airline, stating that room 101 belongs to me and my brother.”

“And whom would that be?” I rolled my eyes.

“Charlie and Raymond Babbitt.”

I stopped breathing as my hand clamped on the door handle and pushed down. Sure enough Charlie was standing outside my bathroom with his hands flexed on either side of the doorframe, caging me in. His eyes widened as he recognised me from the airport and my own eyes glared up at him in pure hatred.

Was this some kind of joke? A prank to get back at me after our argument? I opened my mouth to yell but he looked just as angry as me, his hands in fists and his face hot.

“Fuck no,” he seethed, “Me. You. Front office. Now.”

#fanfic #tom cruise #rain man #charlie babbitt #part one #romance #enemies to lovers

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moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Burned

Chapter 22 of Moonwalker: The Batch

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{join my taglist!} {crossposted to Wattpad} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: Tipoca City was shot down with Clone Force 99 inside, and in the struggle to get out alive, the squadron must finally face the difficult decisions lying ahead.

Word count: 5.4k

Tags/warnings: Mature. Angst, arguing, more and more angst. An odd mix between fix-it and my own Crosshair bias. No regrets.

Songs: the garden

A/N: THIS IS IT OMG!! Enjoy this first part of the finale!

Tipoca City had gone dark, with only the orange light of the fires from the explosions to illuminate the pathways along certain doom. It wasn’t long before Sarah and the squadron couldn’t even keep themselves standing upright, as the central platforms pillars had finally been shot down by the three venators above it, sending everyone down a fall of terror and debris.

Sarah clung to the walls, watching as Tech and Echo did the same not very far above her, but her worry was placed elsewhere. Somehow, her eyesight allowed her to find Wrecker in the darkness, and he was still holding onto Crosshair for dear life, who was still unconscious from being stunned.

“Sarah!”

Tech’s voice calling her name warned her of an incoming beam that was making its freefall trajectory toward her. Using her almost-healed broken wrist, Sarah manipulated the Force around it and led it away from herself, sending it to fall down the very middle of the tram where it could hurt no one. Relief was short lived, however, when a new and greater danger presented itself in the form of a booming loud crash and the strength of inertia forcing everyone to fall down again.

The platform had reached the ocean floor, and as it settled its own weight under water, everyone was left to their own devices for those eternal few seconds.

When the movement around her stopped, Sarah could hear a high-pitched ringing in her ears. She slowly opened her eyes, groaning more out of misery than of pain; it had been a miracle she hadn’t wounded herself even more after such a fall.

She got up, panting, looking around in hopes of finding everyone safe and sound. She found Tech, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker already standing, all of them still with their helmets on.

Wrecker was no longer holding onto Crosshair; he was nowhere in sight, nor were Omega or Azi, and before all of them was a closed mechanical door.

“Crosshair,” Sarah breathed out as she ran toward the door and rested her palms on it to later bang it with her fists. “Crosshair!”

She could feel Hunter’s eyes on her as she banged the door, calling out his brother’s name; she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let him be taken from her again.

“Sarah!” Omega cried out behind the door.

Sarah stopped her outburst, focusing on the young girl. “Omega, are you okay?!”

“We’re fine,” the kid said, hesitant. “But Crosshair’s still unconscious, and the water level’s rising quick!”

Sarah took a step back and extended both of her arms, trying as hard as she could to get the door open, even if she had to tap into her fear of losing them, her anger at everything that had gone wrong since the war ended. The door began to creak open, but barely, and it wasn’t until Wrecker took one half and Tech took the other that the three of them could finally get the door open enough for the accumulated water to course through, eventually letting Omega, AZI, and Crosshair come through it.

Echo caught Omega securely in his arms while the strength of the water that rushed directly toward her knocked Sarah back, and it wasn’t until she recovered and brought herself to her feet that she saw Hunter stopping Crosshair with a foot on his shoulder, leaving the now conscious sniper to scurry to his feet as well.

He looked around at everyone until his eyes fell on Hunter, anger clouding his gaze. “What have you done?”

“Your precious Empire opened fire on the city,” Hunter snarled. “We weren’t gonna leave you behind.”

Sarah would ignore the irony of that statement. Feeling that they were both getting angrier at one another by the second, Sarah went to stand in between them, keeping them from doing or saying anything rash.

“We have to find a way back to the Marauder, and we’re never going to do that if you two don’t stop arguing,” Sarah said and turned to Tech. “What do you suggest?”

Tech gave a heavy sigh as he looked at his holopad. “I can chart a pathway towards somewhere safer than here, but I am afraid it will only be a temporary solution.”

“We can use it while we think of something else to do,” Hunter agreed and signaled to the squad to move. “If you want to stay here and die, that’s your problem.”

“Hunter!” Sarah glared at him, unbothered by the fact that everyone would see her snap at him.

She couldn’t believe he could talk that way to his own brother.

“Let’s move,” Hunter said and led the way, with everyone following.

Without a second thought, Sarah took Crosshair’s hand and led him down with her; at least it would be a way to guarantee he’d be by her side.

But they all ran down the very platform where that overlooked the cloning facilities, a sight chilling in its alien darkness as it fell apart over itself. It was impossible not to think of the clones that had once been there, so much that everyone came to a stop as they watched the place where their brothers had been created, where Echo himself had been born.

It was only the water breaching through the wall’s creases that made them keep running, but before Sarah could, she felt she had to tug on Crosshair’s wrist.

She could sense his hesitation, and she panicked.

“Crosshair, come,” she looked at him, her worried eyes pleading him to move.

He looked like he was doubting as he looked past her at his brothers running off, leaving her and him behind. Sarah could sense his sorrow, his fear of not being wanted, but it only made her wrist tighten around him.

“Crosshair, I’m here with you. I want you with us,” she spoke above the mayhem. “I refuse to leave you behind, and you’re not getting rid of me. Now please, come with me.”

Crosshair’s brown eyes landed on her, and they flashed as though he were coming to his senses. Finally, the two of them followed after the squad down the rumbling halls. Oblivious to where exactly she and the others were heading, Sarah didn’t make out a good sense of direction until she was inside the quiet room with the others.

As she looked around, her heart sank when she realized they were in the old barracks.

And everyone else seemed to be looking around with the same melancholy, no doubt flooded with memories of better days when the place would be a mess, wreak of testosterone, and house them all like the family they were.

Sarah caught Crosshair looking at Wrecker’s wall, wondering if perhaps he’d found himself looking at it more times than he’d dare to admit when he still slept there with his elite squad. He then looked up, realizing it wasn’t only Sarah who looked at him, but everyone else as well.

Everyone except Hunter.

“All those missions together,” Crosshair said quietly, finding Hunter with his gaze, “and you threw it away.”

Hunter’s anger was evident through his helmet; Sarah didn’t need their bond to feel it.

“We made a choice and so did you,” Hunter said back.

“I think you chose for everyone,” Crosshair taunted.

“None of us wanted to march ourselves into a deathtrap,” Hunter growled. “Seems it would have been a waste anyway.”

“One of you did make the attempt,” Crosshair looked at Sarah and then back at Hunter.

“That was when you shot her,” Hunter chose to hit the sore spot. “Just like you’ve probably done the same to countless other people in the name of your Empire.”

“Soldiers follow orders,” Crosshair said.

“Pawns follow orders, and that’s what you’ve reduced yourself to,” Hunter stepped closer to Crosshair. “You think yourself a big shot commander when really you’re one of the Empire’s tools, and they’re gonna get rid of you next. They already left you for dead here. You’re not a leader, a leader protects their squad.”

“Like you’ve protected them?” Crosshair eyed the others. “Like you protected Sarah?”

“Don’t speak of her like that,” Hunter fumed.

“They’re going to die because of you,” Crosshair smirked, proud that he was getting to Hunter. “Because of your failed leadership.”

“Okay, stop,” Sarah walked up to them and took Hunter’s forearm, pulling him away from the others and to the very edge of the barracks. Hunter took his helmet off to look at her, and she could see he was still angry.

“I wish you’d stop talking to each other like that,” Sarah whispered as calmly as she could manage. “I’m trying, Hunter, I’m really trying to see both sides here. But I’m not going to keep letting you talk to him like that.”

“How can you be defending him?” Hunter asked her lowly. “You heard him, he doesn’t have the chip. He wants to be with the Empire, he’s no better than the rest of them. I figured you’d be on my side.”

“This isn’t about picking sides, it’s about getting us back together and getting out of here alive,” Sarah said as she took his hands in hers, squeezing them as she looked directly into his gorgeous brown eyes.

“I don’t think he has it out,” she whispered finally.

Hunter sighed, evidently disappointed. “Open your eyes, Sarah. He’s gone.”

“Hunter,” Omega’s bright little voice traveled across the room, catching his and Sarah’s attention onto her as she paced over to them. “We landed over the tunnel that leads to Nala Se’s lab, and AZI thinks that he can open a pathway for us to travel through it.”

Sarah looked out the window at the glass tunnel that in fact remained in one piece, even if it was cracked.

“It looks incredibly risky,” Sarah said as she looked at Hunter.

Hunter sighed, clearly upset at Sarah despite her change of subject. “We don’t have much choice. Are you sure AZI can do it, Omega?”

“I calculate a 99.034% chance of success,” Azi hovered over. “I must warn you, the remaining percentage of uncertainty could be considered quite high given the risks that are implied.”

“It’s that or we stay here and run out of air, and I’m not willing to condemn us to that,” Hunter looked over at Crosshair, and then at Sarah. “I don’t care what he says.”

Hunter put his helmet back on and walked back to the center of the room with Omega and AZI, and Sarah’s heart squeezed for a moment, wanting to reach out to him, but she remembered he had no memory of her.

AZI managed to successfully open a passage to the glass tunnel. One by one, Sarah helped each member fall safely onto the tunnel until she was the last one to hop in, using the Force to break her own fall. She squatted back up to standing, finding Crosshair’s gaze already on her, and she smiled to let him know she was okay. They slowly walked side by side, following the others, with their steps featherlight and cautious.

Crosshair looked up at the cracks in the glass, finding droplets of water traveling along them. He reached for Sarah’s hand to bring her attention to the subject, after which he faced her and the others.

“We need to go back,” he said.

“I told you to stay if you wanted to,” Hunter replied without looking back at Crosshair. “If you’re here, deal with it.”

“The tunnel’s going to burst at any moment,” Crosshair protested.

“Will you quit complaining?” Hunter turned around, aiming his lantern directly at Crosshair’s face.

“Stop it, both of you,” Wrecker surprised everyone by speaking up, his tone nostalgic. “I can’t stand to hear you fighting all the time.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Wrecker, including Crosshair’s, whose gaze seemed to soften at his brother.

And it took Sarah’s whole willpower not to cry when memories of them engaging in friendly competitions on the battlefield or provoking other clones together flooded her mind; she didn’t doubt they were thinking the same thing.

But as much as Wrecker wanted everything to go alright, he still had a wall up between him and Crosshair, with his helmet only put on halfway and balancing over his head.

“Why didn’t you try to come back?” Wrecker asked. “If you don’t have the chip anymore, why didn’t you try to come back to us?”

“Wrecker…” Crosshair trailed off.

“I know we screwed up in not coming back for you either,” Wrecker averted his gaze. “I’m sorry, little brother… but just keep coming with us. Just a little further, okay?”

“Wrecker’s right, darling,” Sarah walked up to Crosshair and rested her hand on his forearm. “A lot of things happened to us while we were apart too. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t miss you, or that we don’t want you with us now.”

“I stand by my point that this tunnel isn’t safe,” Crosshair looked away, not daring to meet her or Wrecker’s gaze.

“It’s our only way back to the Marauder,” Sarah cupped his cheek with her hand, making him look at her. “None of us can survive a swim that long, and we have no other cover. This is it.”

Crosshair seemed to look for Hunter with his gaze, but the former sergeant seemed to be avoiding him. Crosshair finally looked away, resigning himself to the opinion he and possibly the rest of his brothers had formed of him, and slowly, he slid himself from Sarah’s grip and walked forth until he passed Hunter.

“Let’s go, then,” Crosshair crooned, and the rest finally followed the way down the rest of the tunnel.

Sarah deemed it a miracle that the tunnel had held long enough for them to arrive at the tract made of durasteel, but the climb up was a challenge. With everyone helping each other, they eventually made it into a different section, a laboratory Sarah had never seen nor had she heard of.

She took notice of Omega walking into it as if she knew her way by heart, even if the look on her eyes was more grim than of relief. As the others scattered around the lab, Sarah walked behind the child as she made her way to the large window on the other side, but just before Sarah could arrive, she heard Omega letting out a gasp.

“What is it?” Sarah ran over the rest of the way until she could finally get a visual outside the window, her heart sinking at the sight.

“The rest of the tunnel’s gone…” Omega spoke. “And that was our only way out.”

“So that means…” Sarah trailed off.

“Yes,” Omega looked down in dismay. “We’re trapped here.”

The lab was eerily silent as the discovery fell on everyone’s shoulders; it was somehow darker than any other spot they’ve been in despite the lanterns, but what was most unsettling was the division. Hunter and Crosshair were on opposite sides of the laboratory, while Tech, Echo, and Wrecker were on another corner, uncertain as to which side to go to.

Sarah then noticed Omega was also looking at the others, but she got the feeling Omega’s mood was due to something else. She knelt to be at Omega’s height and looked at the child trying to muster as much comfort as she could.

“Omega,” Sarah said. “What else is on your mind? What is this place?”

Omega raised her gaze to switch among the troopers. “This is where they were created, all except Echo, of course. I was much younger, but I remember seeing them in their pods, watching as they got their mutations enhanced, but they don’t remember any of it.”

Sarah smiled. “You’ve been with them since the beginning.”

Omega gave a little pout. “Not as much as I would have liked to.”

“Is that why you were following us? Back when the war ended?”

Finally, the child smiled softly. “Yes. And when I heard you and Echo had joined the squad, I was so excited to meet you.”

Silently, Sarah’s smile widened at Omega’s remark, finding it sweet that she’d truly loved Clone Force 99 all of their life. But both of their smiles would fade when the two looked at Crosshair as he watched out the lab’s window at the darkness of the ocean.

He stopped only for a moment to bend forward, his hand clutching the front of his head as he grimaced in pain.

Sarah found no other explanation for it.

“I used to think the chip made him that way,” Omega commented quietly.

“It did,” Sarah insisted, looking back at Omega with worry. “We just—we can’t lose hope or faith in him.”

“You think so?” Omega asked.

“Look, Hunter brushed me off immediately, but you were a medical assistant and knew about the chips before any of us,” Sarah said. “And I really don’t think he had his chip removed.”

Omega looked at Sarah with remorse. “I think he did, Sarah…”

Her dim, nebulous eyes looked downwards at her hands, only to see Omega reaching out for them.

“I know why you doubt,” Omega said. “And it’s probably good that you do, but… I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Sarah smiled in irony. “You sound like Hunter. Just… nicer.”

“He’ll come around,” Omega comforted.

The sound of glass being moved around caught Sarah and Omega’s attention back to the center of the lab; it belonged to Tech moving large glass pods closer to where the others could see, until with his gaze he looked around for Sarah and Hunter.

“I have an idea,” Tech began as the rest rounded up in front of him. “There are just enough pods for all of us, and if we distribute our weight evenly, the pod should still have enough buoyancy to float all the way from the surface, after which we should be able to manually row our way to the platform where we landed the Marauder.”

“We have enough explosives to blow that window,” Wrecker commented.

“But there’s too much debris out there,” Echo protested. “And a glass pod isn’t going to hold against the durasteel floating around.”

“I can move it,” Sarah said. “If we can position whatever pod I’m in at the front, I should be able to use the Force and clear our path.”

“And I can assist with directing the pods from the outside,” AZI added.

“But AZI, your battery’s running low,” Omega looked at the little droid with worry.

“My duty and programming make my sole objective to be that of delivering you all to safety,” AZI replied. “My battery power should not be of consequence so long as I can aid you in getting to the surface.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sarah said. “AZI will control the direction while I clear the path. Tech, you’re the expert, tell us how to distribute ourselves.”

“Echo, with me,” Tech said. “Wrecker will have to go alone, and Sarah, since we need you to float quicker then you should be by yourself as well. That leaves Hunter and Crosshair in another pod and Omega alone as well.”

Sarah looked over at Hunter and Crosshair, worried they’d fight so much on the way that they’d put themselves in danger.

“You two will just have to deal with it,” Tech told them as they glared at one another, oddly mimicking Hunter’s words from earlier. “Wrecker, help me with the explosives before you get in your pod, the rest of you get ready.”

Sarah stepped into her pod and got ready, and she couldn’t help looking over at Hunter and Crosshair, thinking of what things would be like once they made it out of Kamino. She sighed and tried her best to trust in the Force and in their bond as brothers; whatever differences they had, she knew they had to be able to work them out.

Finally, Tech and Wrecker went over to their pods; everyone gave a thumbs up of confirmation and Tech held up the switch, nodding over at Sarah before he pressed it.

The window exploded, and the strength pulling the pod caught Sarah off guard—it was far more than she anticipated. But so far, it was all going as planned. Sarah struggled more with the Force given that wielding it underwater had never been something she did often, particularly not given her origins on Jedha, but she successfully moved most of the debris away from the path, being careful not to send it backwards.

Her pod was the first one to emerge, and she opened it as soon as it naturally came to a horizontal position to watch the others emerge one by one. Echo and Tech sat up form theirs, then Wrecker, then Hunter and Crosshair, but there was one pod still missing.

“Omega!” Sarah called, her worried eyes finding Hunter.

In a hurry, Hunter looked over the side of his pod. Sarah tried to get a visual into the water, but it was difficult to see. She dipped her hand into the water to try and feel for Omega, and she felt herself freezing when she realized Omega wasn’t making her way upwards.

She was sinking, and to add to her alarm, Sarah then caught sight of Hunter ready to dive into the water.

“Hunter, don’t! You won’t make it!” She yelled.

“I have to get to her!” Hunter called.

“Hunter,” Crosshair said as he stood up and aimed his rifle just past Hunter with the string and hook attachments ready.

Hunter looked back at Crosshair, wary, until Crosshair aimed wider and shot the hook into the water. The seconds that transpired after that felt endless; they all felt their hearts stopping for that short while before Omega finally emerged from the water, clutching a deactivated AZI in her arms as Hunter scurred to bring her to safety.

When Sarah sighed in relief, she looked around at the others, who had their weapons pulled and aimed at Crosshair. The marksman looked back at them, wounded.

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked the others.

“Did you not see him pull his rifle?” Echo said.

“Did you conveniently not see him assemble the hook?” Sarah called. “Put your weapons down!”

“Don’t worry, Sarah, I know how they feel about me,” Crosshair dove from the pod he was on and swam over to Sarah’s, and she reached down to help him into her arms when he emerged.

“Hey,” Sarah looked at him, her hand brushing his cheek. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

Crosshair’s silence was a confirmation.

“Is it enough?” She asked him, her voice hushed.

Crosshair’s eyes were sadder than she’d ever seen them, and he quickly looked away, only opting to then pull her in for a kiss. Shameless, Sarah returned it out of spite, out of fear of losing him, the relief that they were all miraculously alive and out of the rubble. Then, Sarah finished pulling Crosshair into the pod with them and, without looking at anyone else, she began to row her way in the direction of the platform with the Marauder, visible in the distance.

The sun had just started rising when they arrived at the platform and the clouds had cleared up, granting Kamino a rare and ironic sunny day. The sun made its way farther up in the sky in the time it took everyone to climb up the ladder of the platform, but eventually they all made it up, with only the wind howling among them in the midst of their silence.

It was impossible not to look at the ruins of Tipoca City when they were all on the platform, each with a different set of thoughts racing through their minds, but one shared feeling of sorrow at everything they’d just lived.

Then, with a soft clear of his throat, Wrecker broke the silence, looking at Crosshair.

“You’re coming with us, right?”

Standing at the side of the formation, Crosshair turned around to look at all of them. Dismal, his gaze brushed everyone, including Hunter, but Sarah sensed Crosshair’s hesitation, his own sadness pushing him to decide.

“I’ve made my decision,” Crosshair said. “This doesn’t change anything?”

“You offered us a chance, Crosshair,” Hunter spoke up. “This one’s yours.”

Crosshair looked at Hunter intensely trying to appear angry, but Sarah knew he was more heartbroken than anything else. In the end, Crosshair settled for looking away, his watchful eyes falling on the ruins of Tipoca City, and one by one, the rest of the squadron dissipated and made their way back to the ship.

“What?” Sarah asked in disbelief. “No, where are you going?”

“Sarah…” Hunter said, his voice low. “Come.”

“No,” she shook her head and looked at Crosshair, alarmed, who looked at her with his expression unchanged.

“Crosshair,” Sarah began again, approaching him only for him to turn his back on her. “Crosshair, come with us.”

“I want to stay, Sarah,” he spoke. “Please, go with them.”

“Sarah,” Hunter called to her.

“No!” Sarah sobbed. “Hunter, let me.”

She could feel Hunter’s pain, but ultimately, he let her try to get to Crosshair.

“I am not leaving you,” Sarah said. “Not this time, not ever again.”

“I belong with the Empire,” Crosshair spoke. “I can be a commander here, shape the Empire, do something worthwhile. I’d rather do this than drift around, unstable, living by the day. It isn’t for me, Sarah.”

There was little she could do to understand the words he was saying, each of them an extra dagger straight into her heart. In times past, Crosshair never would have cared about any of that. He would have been fine lying under the shadow of a tree on a sunny day, napping, chewing on a toothpick, maybe playing an instrument. He would have valued his family over anything else, done anything for them.

The chip had to be in there still.

Then again, if it wasn’t, Sarah wouldn’t blame him for wanting to stay. If the roles were switched, she wouldn’t have wanted to choose to stay in a group where she was doubted, where she wasn’t trusted, where she’d been treated like shit just as Crosshair had been.

Sarah intended to keep her promise.

She looked at the smoking ruins of the city and her heart clenched. Tipoca City had been a home to the clones, and it had been important to her too. It was where she’d met Echo and Fives, where she’d later lose Fives to the chancellor’s schemes. It was where she’d feared to return, and where she’d found a new home thanks to Crosshair, to Hunter, Tech, Wrecker.

All of that was now in flames, and now, more than ever, it was important to her that they stay together. But if that wasn’t going to happen, Sarah knew she had to choose.

Crosshair stood in front of her, his back turned on her as he stared at the ruins of his old home as well, and Sarah could feel it. Sarah knew she didn’t want to be away from him, she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him to his own devices in such a terrible Empire, she couldn’t abandon him again.

“Then I’m staying with you,” Sarah walked up to him and, firmly, set her feet on the ground of that platform.

“No, you’re not,” Crosshair slurred. “Get on the ship.”

“If they want to leave you here, so be it—”

“I’m choosing to remain here, Sarah,” Crosshair corrected.

“So am I.”

“Sarah,” Crosshair turned to face her.

She turned too, and her big, nebulous eyes stared into him. Short and fierce as she was, and though no one was to doubt her determination to remain with Crosshair, her gaze was pleading. She was afraid to lose him, afraid to not see him again, afraid he’d be all alone in that heartless empire, with no one to look out for him.

If she let him be alone, she would never forgive herself.

She heard steps coming up behind her, and even Crosshair’s gaze went from her to the person behind her. Sarah didn’t need eyes to know it was Hunter; she could feel him anywhere, anytime.

And when she turned around, she noticed Hunter carrying his hand blaster, its blast mode still set to stun.

“Good,” Sarah took a step back, giving him an opening to aim at Crosshair. “We should have done this a long time ago.”

Hunter and Crosshair looked each other in the eyes. No words were spoken between the two brothers who used to tell each other everything, who used to rule the worlds they stepped in. Anger, resentment, a lack of understanding, all of these clouded their vision of one another, a vision that would only ever overlap again in their mutual love for the woman standing between them.

Hunter had a clear intention, and Crosshair knew what it was. His ever watchful eyes landed on the blaster before they met Hunter’s again.

Crosshair wouldn’t try to stop him.

Sarah looked intently at the marksman, clearly having no intention to leave him to his luck in the hands of the empire, no matter how much he claimed he wanted to be a part of it. She deemed it bullshit. She wouldn’t let it happen.

All she had to do was wait for Hunter to pull the trigger.

And when Hunter finally pulled the trigger, Sarah felt the stun bolt hitting her body, slowly feeling as her muscles went limp and her vision went black.

Crosshair

He hurried over to catch her before her body could hit the floor, and in his arms, her eyes fully fluttered closed until she was off in a slumber.

Crosshair tried to keep himself from shedding a tear that begged to come out at the notion of not being there when she woke up.

Before he could bring himself to let her go, Crosshair tightened his grip around Sarah, needing to feel her warmth and her embrace one more time—he doubted it was the last time he’d see her, but he knew there was no turning back for him now. There was no salvation, no redemption.

He was a monster. Hunter saw it. Tech, Wrecker, Echo, they could all see it. Crosshair saw it too.

Sarah would have to come to terms with it.

But he didn’t want to let her go, not just yet.

“Crosshair.”

The marksman looked up at his brother, who had holstered the blaster away and didn’t want to see him holding Sarah any longer than was necessary.

Crosshair stood up, carrying Sarah in his arms until he let Hunter hold her, hesitant to let go of the one person who’d ever loved him unconditionally. His heart squeezed; some corner of him was certain that Sarah could have witnessed him killing Gerrera’s fighters, the civilians, even his own comrade, and yet she’d still have faith in him.

She was the one who would never give up on him.

“At least you still know what’s good for her,” Hunter said as he took Sarah in his arms.

“She’s not going to be happy with you,” Crosshair barked back, a futile attempt to hide his heartache.

“She’s my problem now,” Hunter said, a hint of possession in his tone.

Their gazes met, and the silence grew thicker than the smoke emerging from the very ashes of Tipoca City. Crosshair knew there were many things he could say, but there were many more he wanted Hunter to speak. Perhaps a last minute change of heart to ask Crosshair to go with them after all, or the reassurance that if he ever changed his mind, he knew how to reach them, or even a thank you for saving the kid from drowning.

Crosshair would have given everything, from his strength to his voice to his eyesight to his ability to breathe, if only it meant hearing Hunter say those words, to hear his oldest brother say that he wanted him back.

But Hunter didn’t say anything. He just held Sarah in his arms, turned around, and left.

And with that, Crosshair convinced himself he’d made the right choice.

He belonged in the Empire, and he repeated that to himself as he heard the whirring of the Havoc Marauder gradually grow quieter the further it got, and even his will of iron couldn’t keep him from turning around to get one last look at the ship before it disappeared beyond the atmosphere.

At last, Crosshair finally let the tears stream from his eyes, stifling his own sobs as he felt Sarah’s presence leaving the planet.

Taglist: @nunanuggets @sageislostinspring @rexandechosandwich @purgetrooperfox @redheadgirl @coffeyorky @zoeykallus @dangerousstrawberrypie @salaminus @ladykatakuri @whore4rex @seriowan @kimageddon @rain-on-kamino @prozacspice @eyecandyeoz

#the moonwalker series #moonstrider writes #oc sarah adhara #tbb hunter x oc #tbb crosshair x oc #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars tbb #clone force 99

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 2 years

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First Rule of Game Night

Summary: This is Part Seven of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Part One was Oopsie Baby which you can read here.

Part Two was Promises Kept which you can read here.

Part Three was Stop Adopting My Friends which you can read here.

Part Four was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie which you can read here.

Part Five was Now Kiss! which you can read here.

Part Six was Where There's a Will which you can read here.

Part Seven is a little slice of life fic that I thought would be a good follow up after how emotional Part Six was. Bex brings Will to his first game night and there are shenanigans.

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz, Jay Halstead/Erin Lindsay,

Warnings: Competitive game play??

A/N: I'll post the link to the ao3 page at the bottom. This story has not only an OC character, but some quirky elements which may or may not be everyone's jam. Just FYI. Also - this is going to be the last update for a bit, but I will definitely be returning to add to this series.

First Rule of Game Night

Will

Will and Bex were stopped in front of Jay’s door when Bex put a hand on his arm.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Bex, why do you keep asking me that?” he laughed. “It’s a game night. How bad can it be?”

“First rule of game night,” Bex said solemnly. “Never underestimate how bad it can be.”

“Really selling it here,” he rolled his eyes at her. “Why do you guys keep having one if it always gets so crazy?”

“Half of them are too competitive to ever give up trying to win a game,” she said. “Not that we’ve ever finished one.”

“Wait, what—”

“And the rest of us just…can’t look away when it all crashes and burns,” she shrugged. “You want to look away. But you can’t.”

Will readjusted the pile of snack containers she’d loaded into his arms before they came upstairs. “Okay, I feel like this was important information before—”

The door swung open and Erin popped her head out. “Why are you guys standing out here? Come on already! It’s game night. Ooh, snacks.” She plucked the first container off the top of Will’s pile and headed back inside, leaving the door open for them to follow.

“Last chance,” Bex said to him, waggling her eyebrows.

Will stepped forward. “Seriously, how bad could it be?”

***

Bex

Everything had started out okay. Will was settled in and joking around with Mouse and Kevin while Adam and Kim got the table ready. Bex, Jay, and Erin were setting out the snacks.

Bex thought, maybe tonight, we’ll finish a game! Crazier things have happened.

They were trying out UNO. It was good for a larger group. There were no tiny, sharp pieces to throw. It felt like safe bet.

Until they started playing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Adam held up a hand as Will went to place a second plus two card down.

“Playing my card,” Will said, pausing, card in hand. “It’s a plus two on a plus two. It matches.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Erin nodded at him and he dropped the card on the pile.

“No, you can’t,” Adam said. “That’s only for the regular number cards.”

“Since when?” Will asked. “Everyone stacks the plus twos.”

“Pretty sure it’s in the rules—” Adam began, but was cut off by Erin’s booing.

“We play by the universally understood rules,” she declared and then she and Will high fived without even looking at each other. “Pick up four, Ruzek.”

It went downhill from there when somehow every hand ended up with Adam having to pick up more cards and Erin and Will citing more ‘universally understood’ rules that they were definitely making up on the fly. Kim and Kevin abandoned the game four hands in for snacks and a movie in the living room.

Jay and Bex and Mouse backed away from the table when the cards started flying.

“You were hoping they would get along,” Bex shrugged at Jay as they watched a cackling Erin and Will pelt Adam with cards with the kind of fascinated horror well associated with game night.

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

She turned to Mouse on her other side. “So, we should probably add UNO to the no play list—”

“Already on it,” Mouse said, tapping away on his phone. “Although I think we could file it as a solid maybe. This is still better than what happened during Hedbanz.”

They both shuddered at the memory.

“Okay, yeah,” she agreed. “Put it on the maybe list.”

“No,” Jay yelled. “No. Put down the dip.”

“We should—” Mouse gestured at the melee in the kitchen.

“Join Kim and Kevin on the couch?”

“Yup.”

Click here to read Part Eight of the series: A Fun Fair, an Alleged Flirtation, and a New Living Arrangement

(Here is the link to read First Rule of Game Night on ao3.)

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lesbiancolumbo · 2 years

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James Dean

It is sad for any moviegoer to have no great star burning during his or her most impressionable years. Many stars, no matter how well they survive passing time, are only eminent because of the way they first mark consciousness. Once penetrated, we never forget the scar. And knowing what Dean meant in 1955 and 1956 makes it possible to understand how Valentino once moved viewers to the quick. It is reasonable to say that Dean and I came in together. Eight years earlier, Montgomery Clift in Red River had seemed a possible older brother; but Dean was oneself and, at first, one marveled in the way a savage might be awed by a mirror.

I first saw Dean in Rebel Without a Cause (55, Nicholas Ray) at the Granada, Tooting. That is relevant because it was a huge and fabulously decorated cinema, the most beautiful I have ever known, modeled on a Venetian palace. It had mirrored corridors, the softest of carpets, and an interior so spacious that it was possible to evade the usherettes. Especially in the dark. I arrived early, some ten minutes before the end of the previous showing. As I stepped into the auditorium, my feet pushing through the pile, so, on the screen, Dean edged into the planetarium, doing what he could to talk Sal Mineo into surrendering to the police. Even then, it was apparent how far the moment drew upon Ray’s use of color and composition. But so much also depended on Dean. He made it clear that he wanted Mineo’s safety, but guessed already that the cause was perilous. Dean’s cry of anguish when Mineo is shot down was the very antithesis of the film’s inadequate title.

No matter that it was seized on at the time, Dean’s potency was not that of a rebel without a cause. Although he was vulnerable and sensitive, he never suggested youthfulness or callowness. On the contrary, he seemed older, sadder, and more experienced than the adults in his films. More than that, he seemed to sense his own extra intuition and to see that it was of no use. His resignation and fatalism showed up the restricted personality of the world he inhabited. Occasionally driven to anger or violence, Dean was not a rebel, but a disenchanted romantic, as brooding and knowing as the darkest Bogart—the Bogart of In a Lonely Place. Dean’s isolation is that of profound understanding; and his dislike of the world, far from being causeless, was based on the extent to which the world had fallen away from its proper nobility, into vulgarity, materialism, and self-deception. America today is broken apart. But in 1955 it seemed whole, tight, and solid, except when Dean’s tragic eyes surveyed it. He appealed to the young because he understood that youth knew some truths about the world that adults had looked away from: about the unfriendly cities, the instinct for violence, and forsaken emotional sensibility. The parents in Rebel are trite, hollow people: Ray signaled that by casting Jim Backus (Mr. Magoo) as the father. And in East of Eden (55, Elia Kazan), it is Dean alone who is prepared to make the trip from Salinas to Monterey, who bridges the worlds of his arrogant, puritan father and his resentful, unprincipled mother. It was through Dean’s eyes and Kazan’s dramatic skill that we saw no need to condemn either and no prospect of their ever living together. Thus he had a kind of bastard robustness, horribly caricatured in his Jet Rink in Giant (56, George Stevens), too plain a film to sense Dean’s depth. Nevertheless Dean was lucky with directors. Kazan gave him a charge, confidence, patience, and Julie Harris. But only Nicholas Ray could have given him a part that guessed at the looming alienation in America.

Dean died in a car crash as Giant finished shooting. He was set next to play in Somebody Up There Likes Me, proof that he could not always have expected parts or directors as good as Rebel and Ray. He might have faltered, as often as Brando has done. Equally, he might have become the man in Last Tango.

When Dean died, Valentino had been gone just thirty years. Now, Dean is over fifty years dead. But Dean is not dated yet. New kids, without great movie theatres to find him in, still fall under his sway. It’s easier now to see Dean’s intelligence, his dismay, and his sexual ambiguity. But he changed so much, in such a short time.

#asks #thomson meme #i find the comparison to bogart in in a lonely place fucking fascinating

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silvergolddraco28 · 1 month

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Hazbin Hotel Part 3 Past and Present

Open RP, comment or reblog if interested.

()()()()()

A hand twitched followed by a low groan as the slumbering angel finally woke blinking open bright veridian red eyes floating in golden sclera. The eyes looked at the two brothers before the being sat up rater fast with a very long string of angelic curses flowing from his lips.

“Why in the seven realms am I in Heaven!?!” he asked with a slight tone of panic in his voice.

Samuel raised his hands to the being before him. “Easy, you crash landed with burns from a crack in the sky.” Samuel replied. The being looked eyes with him before an eye twitched.

“This better not be a cruel joke Michael or so help me.” the one in the bed growled with ash like steam coming from the corners of his mouth.

Samuel took a step back in complete shock. That voice, that voice was his own, only older. He had also seen the wickedly sharp teeth the other had. A hand rested on Samuel's shoulder. “I think you might be confused. I've never met you before today.” Michael replied while the other growled.

“Really? You don't remember burning my wings off with your sword. Or Gabriel tearing off my forearms and shins before tosing me off the edge of Heaven into Hell as the First Fallen Angel defied the Council of Elders?” the male snapped at Michael. “You dont recognize your youngest and most hated brother in all of Creation. Father’s Greatest Mistake and Most Hated Child, Lucifer Morningstar.”

Samuel felt his heart nearly stop at this unintentional dump of information. ‘Metal burns, torn limbs, sky burns, forced adaptation to a harsher environment… Lightbringer Morningstar…’ “…your me…” Samuel spoke keeping his eye on the long black tail that had slipped free and swayed like a cat’s tail slightly curled up. ‘…He’s terrified of us…’

“Michael, Samuel, please give our guest room.” a kind and benevolent voice spoke as a tall woman with four gold and silver rings forming a crisscrossing crown around their head with floating crystals stepped inside dressed in a simple white dress that faded to resemble the glittering night sky, her hair was long and intricately braided looking just as bright as the rays of the very sun.

“Yes, Mother.” the two spoke as one quickly scampering out of the room while Lucifer looked at the woman before him, hurt and longing mixed with betrayal and greif swimming in his eyes.

Gently the woman cupped Lucifer’s face brushing away the golden tears that were trickling down his face. “Shush… shush… oh my baby boy… let it out my little Star…” she softly cooed as Lucifer gripped tightly to her and let out a long wail filled with pain, greif, longing, and regret that seemed to shake the very air as if experiencing these emotions for the very first time in such a raw state.

”Mama.” Lucifer choked as he pressed his face into her shoulder with so many raw emotions racing through him as he continued to simply cry and break down, his tail curling around the woman’s arm on his back while a hand brushed through his hair.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel rp #hazbin lucifer #archangel michael #samuel morningstar #intersex god #god goes by both mom and dad

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mividacamilo · 2 years

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“𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑑𝑖𝑚“

Part two<3

Camilo x reader

Warnings- small angst at the start then followed by fluff

Authors note- Hello my lovely doves, this is part two of “ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑑𝑖𝑚“ if you haven’t already read the first part, please if you could that would be lovely, it’s linked up at the top☝︎︎. Besides that please enjoy!<3 Camilo has he/they and reader has she/her pronouns.

The words that Camilo spoke seemed to ring in Dolores’s ears,

“𝐼’𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑢𝑝“

Dolores’s heart strung painfully in her chest.

Too familiar with those words almost feeling it on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t stop herself as the memory’s flooded her mind.

The time she first heard Mariano’s poetry he had written, it was so beautiful she couldn’t stop her hand from clutching her chest so painfully.

She would stay standing so very stiffly, afraid if she moved she wouldn’t hear him. Bashfully she’d ears drop wanting to hear every little word he’d say.

Finding her self slowly fall in love by just the way he spoke.

The words gently rolling of his tongue so smoothly she felt as if she was practically swimming in it. Since that day on she would always carefully listen, waiting till she hears him once again.

For so long she kept her love quiet but it grew every time Mariano spoke.

The way she heard him treating his mother so very sweetly, almost made her feel as if her teeth would rot.

And when she had heard Mariano talk about her cousin; Isabela, with so much joy and love, Was the same as how Dolores felt now.

Hearing her beloved brother suffering the same feelings she had felt once before, felt unbearably more painful then she would of thought.

Dolores dropped her head low catching her eyes on her feet that peeked out from under her skirt. Dolores knew she had to help Camilo, exactly how Mirabel had once done for her and Mariano.

With tears burning against her eyelids Dolores puffed up her chest, inhaling strongly, as she listened carefully. Waiting till she heard you.

As if you had heard what she thought on cue you spoke. Dolores made sure to catch what you said. With a grin on her face Dolores quickly bent down to her brothers ear, hiding her mouth with her palm as she said;

“ Camilo! Escúchame, Y/n is coming over to the kitchen for a drink I suggest you get up and have one for yourself. Better yet offer her a drink! If you want her, you better take action”

Dolores spilled out her words faster then she thought was possible.

Camilo sat in is seat shocked at his sisters words. Mouth agape, his eyes flickering from his sister back to you, Camilo watched as you bowed to your dancing partner, to which they where pretending to be himself just a little while ago.

Dolores’s heart picked up as she heard you stepping towards the kitchen, her breathing trying to calm down from the rush of words she had just spoke.

Forcibly Dolores pushed Camilo out his chair, to which he groaned in pain and annoyance.

Camilo stood up from the floor confusion surfacing on his face as he looked at Dolores, rubbing is throbbing head.

“Dolores why’d you-”

“Oops! Sorry”

She cut him of quickly with an apologetic smile. Hurriedly Dolores pushed against Camilo’s back shoving him to walk towards the kitchen.

“No time for chit chat Camilo,”

Camilo filled of worry as Dolores rushed them into the kitchen. All the interactions they had with you; failed he would add, brimming it’s way to the forefront of his brain.

Those moments replaying in his mind in a loop, showing just how terribly they ended. The waves of anxiety crashing into Camilo so harshly his breathing becoming rabid and uncontrollable the feeling leaving him with uncertainty and doubt.

“But- I need to prepare myself Dolores, i don’t know what to say to her!”

They so badly wanted to run away, yes he wanted nothing then to talk to you but this pressure on his chest was just too heavy to carry.

As they entered the kitchen Dolores spun Camilo around bracing her hands on his forearms tightly. As she looked down at them her eyes softened.

The emotions that where sprayed all over his face just like paint on a canvas, was something Dolores hadn’t seen in so long.

The doubt, the worry and so much more she couldn’t decipher she hadn’t seen since his gift ceremony.

Dolores softened her voice hoping the words she said would soothe him.

“Camilo, I know this is scary. Trust me I felt the same for so long towards Mariano, but you shouldn’t sacrifice what you could have with Y/n for being able to just see her. Strive for more then that, your not as unloveable as you think. Just show her the real you and I’m sure she’d love you just as much as you love her”

Camilo blinked astonished by the heartfelt words his sister whispered, they could barely remember the last time she had said such heartwarming things to him.

To used too the teasing banter they shared. Camilo felt lost for words opening his mouth then quickly shutting it.

“Oh Dolores! Hola! And Camilo, how has your nights been?”

You cheerfully spoke, your words seeping into Camilo’s skin leaving them with goosebumps.

Dolores only gave him a sweet closed-lip smile patting his back lightly before walking away with a;

“My nights been well, thank you Y/n,”

With a shared smile to Dolores You looked towards Camilo softly greeting him.

“Hola Camilo”

“Hola-ahem, hola Y/n”

Tag list;

@camiloenthusiast

@digital-dingo

@madrigalfics

@disneysencanto

@camiloamor

I hope you enjoyed my lovely doves<3

#encanto #camilo angst #camilo fluff #camilo imagine #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo x y/n #camilo x reader #camilo madrigal x reader

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Text

Crosshair – My Beloved Enemy 13 – A Helping Hand

Crosshair x Female!Reader (FF)

Warning: A little Angst, I guess. Slight Fluff and Comfort.

Author's Comment:

------

Okay, I know that the clones have been provided with an acceleration of aging. But! I just imagine that as soon as they are no longer treated, fed, etc. by the Kaminoans, the effect wears off. That means our boys age normally, as a human being should. In other words, they're not old men in this fic, just a few years older than they were at the time of Order 66. And even though I'm crossing timelines here, I don't really care. If any of you are itching, I'll gladly scratch your back, but Crosshair and co are not old men in my fic. Sue me :P -------

What Happened Before:

Part 1 - Crash Landing

Part 2 - Hot And Cold

Part 3 - Hello Kitten

Part 4 - Look Who’s Back

Part 5 - Rebel Darling

Part 6 - Burning Anger

Part 7 - Love And Pain

Part 8 - A Difficult Reunion

Part 9 - The Bitter Taste Of Blood And Failure

Part 10 - Where The Dead Ships Dwell

Part 11 - A Lonely Firefly In Space

Part 12 - Broken Wings

Part 13 - A Helping Hand

In artificial gravity, the pain seemed even worse and you kept drifting in and out of a kind of unconsciousness that your body was trying to force on you. Rex carried you very carefully, yet every step while he carried you was like someone trying to break the ribs out of your body.

Whining softly, you bit your lower lip to keep from being too loud. You didn't want to seem snivelly.

"It's okay ad'ika, I know how painful broken ribs are," he said quietly, laying you down very carefully on his bunk in his little converted gunship.

"I wish Kix was here," he spoke softly, more to himself than to you.

Dazed with pain, you asked, "Who is Kix?"

Rex smiled sadly as he answered, "One of my brothers, he was a medic."

You wanted to ask him more questions about this, but you needed your concentration at the moment to keep from screaming as he carefully cut you out of the suit. He couldn't take the suit into consideration and he couldn't take it off you normally without torturing you, so he cut the thing open without further ado.

He had already taken the helmet off of you. Rex cut the suit with a knife he was carrying from your collar to your crotch carefully so as not to hurt you and folded the material aside like a pelt. Carefully he reached for your shirt and pushed it up a bit.

The right side of your rib cage was already turning dark blue.

"That looks bad"

"We can treat that later, we need to get the boys out of here or they'll run out of oxygen," you said seriously.

"But-"

"Rex" you looked at him pleadingly "Please. That's the only reason I was out there in the first place. We need to save your brothers, there's probably not much you can do for me right now anyway."

Rex sighed, but nodded. He gave you another painkiller before hurrying into the cockpit.

As the painkiller began to take effect, you fell asleep, for the moment finally largely relieved of the pain, at least temporarily. You were with Rex, you knew you were safe, you could rely on him.

You heard voices talking softly to each other as you slowly regained consciousness. You opened your eyes and saw Crosshair sitting next to you. He was holding your hand and looking at you with concern.

"Hey, Kitten, how are you feeling?"

It took a brief moment before you could speak.

"Broken, but alive," you said softly.

He sighed, more or less relieved.

"For a moment I thought I had lost you when you were suddenly torn from my sight. I saw the wreckage coming too late, tangled with your line," he spoke, lowering his gaze.

You gently squeezed his hand that was holding yours and said, "It wasn't your fault."

Hunter and Rex appeared in your field of vision.

"Thank God" you said so relieved that you almost cried when you saw Hunter "So you made it".

The sergeant nodded.

"A civilian freighter was kind enough to pick us up and take us to Bespin, where we are for the moment."

You looked around and only now really realized that you seemed to be in a well-lit sickbay.

"We had a little help from someone who was supplied by said freighter" Rex noted.

"Thanks Rex, none of us could have done it without you," you said with a smile.

Rex was about to wave you off with a smile when Tech said from the background, "Theoretically, Crosshair could have made it, but he would have dragged your dead body through space with him, and in the event of an atmospheric entry, you would have burned up and burnt to dust."

You frowned.

"Even if I didn't know that voice, I would know immediately who made that macabre remark" you said dryly.

"Sorry," he said meekly.

Crosshair, stroked your hair gently, he still looked worried, what had happened seemed to have affected him more than you had thought. He must have really thought he was going to lose you, you'd never seen him like that, at least not when others were around.

"So who helped us?" you asked, trying to sit up.

Crosshair gently but firmly pushed you back onto the pillow.

"Lie still Kitten, your treatment isn't over yet".

"I did that," you heard the answer to your question.

Hunter and Rex took a step to the side and a young man came into your field of vision. His skin was dark as chocolate, his clothes looked expensive and classy. He had a winning, mischievous smile on his lips and a saucy glint in his eye.

"Lando Calrissian, always at your service, lovely lady".

You could see Crosshair biting his tongue, this man had saved your life and his brothers, which was the only reason he didn't give in to his jealousy when Lando cheekily took your hand from his to give you a kiss on the hand.

With a surprised blink you introduced yourself "Y/N, very pleased to make your acquaintance. We are very grateful for your help."

He waved you off and said, "It's nothing".

Lando escorted you and Crosshair to another room in the infirmary where you would spend the next two days mainly in a bacta tank to heal the broken ribs. You had been changed by the sickbay staff earlier, for the tank. A medical droid helped you into the tank while Crosshair watched with wary eyes.

Lando who was standing next to him and saw how tense he seemed to be said, "She is in good hands and safe here my friend, if you wish you can join your brothers and help them with the repairs."

Tech and Echo were in a private hangar owned by Lando, they were trying to get the Marauder up to shape again in there.

"Tech and Echo got this covered, I'm staying here".

Lando raised a brow and finally asked, "Are you two um... together?"

Crosshair growled, "My name is Crosshair, like my tattoo and the necklace Y/N wears around her neck. Take a wild guess."

Lando chuckled unperturbed.

"That you have feelings for her I could tell right away, I just wasn't sure if you were really a couple".

"We are," Crosshair returned curtly.

He sighed and said, "Thank you for treating her here, she was in a lot of pain".

Lando nodded and said quietly, "It's hard to see the ones we love suffer pain."

Crosshair nodded, and saw you lying in the tank, your eyes were closed, probably you were still tired from the painkillers he thought. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the tank, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting his eyes roam the room as if he were the gatekeeper of your bacta tank.

Lando smiled and said, "Let me know if you need anything," and left the infirmary.

Hunter, Rex and Wrecker were off with Rex's ship to get spare parts while Tech and Echo took another look at the damage and started fixing the things that could be fixed without spare parts.

The Marauder looked bad, in fact it had never looked that bad before and it hurt Tech's soul to see it like that.

This ship was more than just a ship, it was practically his home, his refuge, a weapon and an escape vehicle. It was so much more than the naked eye could see. To each of them, but especially to Tech, the Marauder was practically part of the family.

Echo said thoughtfully, "I still don't understand what happened. The connection between the two ships should not have broken, everything was maintained and connected correctly, I'm sure of it."

Tech nodded slowly and replied, "Actually, I was sure of that too. But it did indeed tear open, however I wonder why. The material was fine, no signs of exhaustion, neither technical nor human failure makes sense. Y/N didn't try to disconnect while we were in hyperspace, she wouldn't do something that stupid."

Echo shrugged uncertainly and interjected, "Ever thought of Crosshair?"

Tech looked at him critically.

"Crosshair may be a lot of things, but he's not a saboteur. Besides, he would never put himself or Y/N in danger. Did you see how upset he was when he saw her so motionless and badly injured?"

Echo nodded.

"I know," he said quietly " I have to say I'm surprised at how open he is with her. Usually Crosshair was very closed off. But the thought just came up anyway"

Tech sighed. He knew that the past with Crosshair would stay in their memory for a long time, but he was sure, Crosshair would never put you in danger like that.

He picked up his scanner to do another analysis, this time an even more thorough one, and looked intently at the data that was gradually appearing on the display.

"This doesn't look good," Tech said suddenly, very seriously.

He pored over an evaluation of his scanner, vigorously and thoughtfully adjusting his goggles. What he had just found was troubling, to say the least.

"What exactly do you mean?" asked Echo who was in the process of fixing a cable connection for him.

Tech held out his scanner to him with a somber look and said, "I found traces of purposefully placed explosives in the damage scan. The accident we had was notan accident."

Echo looked up from the scanner into his brother's face.

"But who would sabotage us in this way?"

Tech sighed, "I don't know, we've made a few enemies over the years that probably wouldn't back down from something like that. But I honestly can't tell you who specifically that might have done."

Echo said seriously, "We should let Crosshair know right away, maybe whoever did this followed us."

Tech nodded.

"I'll go to Crosshair and you send a message to Hunter".

"I'm sure he won't get it right away, probably on the way back" Echo noted.

Tech said seriously, "Let's hope that by then it might not be too late."

@twinkofthedink

@tazmbc1

@kristinainspace

@ladykatakuri @inthemoshpitt

@whore4rex

@rexandechosandwich @anndraco0523

@revan-posting

@dwarfnip

@ben-is-a-hoe

@ttzamara

@ilikemymendarkandfictional

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likeitloveitblogit · 3 years

Text

Just Hold Me

I had a dream that got stuck in my brain, so I decided to turn it into a Loki x fem!reader fanfic. Here it is. Please be gentle this is the first but of my writing I've shared.

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Summary: After a rough battle fighting with the Avengers you skip the party to recover in your room at the Avengers tower. There you're visited by a drunk Thor and a comforting Loki.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: non consensual kissing, mention of assault, pain, mention of death, they all need therapy

What to expect: Me turning a dream into a Loki fluff therapy session.

From your room in the Avengers tower you could still hear the sounds of the party. Another victory for the team meant another raging party to celebrate. You loved a good party, but you had taken a few too many hits during the mission and had chosen to head back to your room.

A knock sounded at your door, "Y/N, are you there?" You heard the gruff voice of Thor.

The god of thunder and his brother Loki had become members of the team after defeating the Dark Elves in London. There had been a drunken night when Loki confessed to you he had considered faking his own death and stealing the throne of Asgard. But Loki had chosen to help fight, winning the battle and the approval of the Avengers. Not everyone had accepted them completely, but you understand that people were capable of change and had become friends with the pair.

"Y/N?!?" Thor called again, pounding a little harder on the door.

You rise from your bed and walk to the door, opening it you find a very clearly drunk Thor. It took a great deal of drinking to get the god drunk. You chuckle thinking about how much he must have consumed, but then notice that his eyes are full of tears.

"Thor, what's wrong?"

"Can I come in?"

Normally you didn't let anyone into your room. You were a fairly open person, happy to share, but your room was your safe place to get away and recharge. Standing there, leaning slightly against your door frame Thor looked completely broken, so you open the door and gesture for him to enter. Leaving the door open you follow Thor into the room.

You weren't sure how to handle having a guest in your room. But Thor walked over and sat on your bed, like he owned the place. "I'm sorry to bother you, I just, I was at that party and everything was good. You know we had that Asgardian wine brought in, so much better than anything here on Midgard. But then I saw a woman in the crowd that looked just like her. And I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe she had only faked it, maybe she'd just been lost and now she'd come to find me. I ran over to her, but the woman was just some stranger."

From your spot learning against the wall you asked, "Who do you mean? Jane?"

"Ha, I've lost her too. I seem to lose everyone I care about. But no. I thought I saw my mother"

That broke your heart. That same drunken night when Loki had confessed thinking of faking his own death, you two had also talked about Frigga's death. Unsure how to comfort the god then you had sat with Loki, holding his hand while he cried. Loki had been so close with Frigga, a part of Loki had changed when the guard had delivered the news of her death. Being in prison unable to even attend the funeral had stirred a desire to be a better person in Loki.

Even though you had seen Loki's grief, somehow Thor had seemed stronger, less affected, but Frigga was his mother, too. The loss of a parent is a terrible thing to deal with no matter how strong of a person you might appear to be. And clearly alcohol made the Asgardians emotional wrecks, because here now was the god of thunder sitting on your bed, body racking with sobs.

You sat down next to Thor, reaching to take his hand. Instead Thor pulled you into a crushing hug. Your first instinct was to pull away from the pain, you had really taken a beating in that fight. But Thor was your friend and he was hurting inside, so you relaxed. Rubbing circles on his back, you whispered "it's ok, you're ok" while you let him cry on your shoulder. The two of you sat like that for a long while before Thor released his hold on you.

You were about to ask Thor if he was feeling better, when he looked down at you and leaned in to kiss you. A million thoughts ran through your brain all at once. Fear struck you the strongest, and you scrambled away, backing up until your back was against the headboard. "What are you doing?"

"Um, kissing you," Thor said as he crawled toward you, hovering over you he leaned to try and kiss you.

"Well, stop it" you put your arms in front of your face trying to push him away. "Stop it, stop it, stop it"

Thor's strong arms easily push your own hands out of the way. But just as Thor leaned in towards you, he was ripped from on top of you.

Frightened, you look up to see Loki shoving Thor away, placing himself between you and Thor. "The lady told you to stop. What has gotten into you brother?"

"You don't know anything stupid brother, just leave us alone" Thor lunges for Loki, but Thor is still far too intoxicated to stand a chance in a fight. Loki easily pushes back and Thor nearly crashes into the wall.

Before Thor can lunge again Loki summons a pair of daggers and points then at Thor. "Brother you're drunk. You need to calm down. I don't want to hurt you, but if you try to hurt Y/N, I'll have no choice."

"Brother you wouldn't dare."

Loki points the daggers more directly at Thor "I don't know what is happening here but you know that I will do anything to defend a lady's honor."

"Oh, so you're just such a hero now? A perfect little prince charming? You're not defending anything. You're just jealous because Y/N invited me into her room and not you."

You stand up, careful to stay behind Loki. "Thor, nothing was going to happen between us. You came to me, crying and I offered you a hand to hold because I knew you missed your mother. You hugged me and I let you because you are my friend. But that's it. You are my friend and I don't want any more than that. You should thank Loki for keeping you from doing something you'd have regretted."

"You think I'd regret kissing you?"

"No, I think you'd regret kissing someone who didn't want to be kissed. You'd regret taking advantage of someone you cared about."

"I, I thought you'd want to kiss me"

"You buffoon, not everyone wants to have their face crushed in by your giant head."

"Hush Loki," you walk toward Thor, Loki tries to pull you back behind him but you touch his arm gently, and step forward. "Thor you know I do care about you, but I don't feel that way about you. Look, I know you have had a lot to drink tonight. And you have a lot of emotions running through you. I mean you thought you saw your mother, that has to be really hard to deal with. But you made a mistake."

"I thought, I just. Uh, I'm sorry"

"I know. Right now I think it is best if you go back to your room, get some sleep, and we can talk more in the morning, once you're sober."

"But,"

"You heard her brother. She is giving you a very generous offer. If you don't accept and leave now, I will make you. And I won't be nice about it."

With a final look at you, Thor leaves your room.

Once Loki is sure that Thor is gone, he sets his daggers down and turns to you. You register that he chose to set them down rather than magic then away, but chart it away as a question for later.

Approaching you, hands raised like you are an animal he is afraid to spook Loki asks, "Y/N, are you ok?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." Which is a lie, you're anything but ok. Unsteady on your feet, you nearly collapse.

Loki reaches to catch you and leads you to sit on the bed, "oh Y/N, what did he do to you? I'll kill him if he has hurt you."

"Thank you, but I'm actually just a little worse off than I thought from that fight today. All this has just made me extra aware of how tired I am."

"I'll go get Banner or Strange, or one of the others."

"No," you reach and grab onto his arm.

He looks down at the way your hands tremble as they hold onto his arm. "But, Y/N, you are unwell."

"I'm not sick. I'm not injured, well not more than normal after a fight. I'm just tired. Honest."

"Well then I'll leave you to rest"

But you only hold more tightly, "please don't"

"Don't what?" His breath catches as he looks down into your eyes.

"Please don't leave me. I don't, I don't want to be alone right now."

"Ok, I'll stay." Loki sits next to you, shifting his arm to take your hand. You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the interlocking of your fingers with his.

"Thank you."

"Thor is a buffoon, but I don't think he meant to harm you. He's not used to anyone not wanting him. Not that what he did was ok. I'm not trying to say it was ok."

"Loki, I know. I understand that he was hurting. And I guess I'm a beacon of comfort and he mistook that for romantic attraction. Honestly I think he would have stopped once he realized what he was doing. But I'm still so glad you were there."

Despite Loki's comforting hold, and the circles he was tracing with his long thumb, your hands still shook. "Y/N is there something more bothering you?"

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. "When I saw your brother crawling towards me, I got so scared. I didn't see Thor, my friend. I saw that crazy guy from the factory today."

You could feel the moment the switch clicked and rage burned in Loki, "Wait did something happen? I don't remember a guy. Did this guy…, did he …, do something to you? I will end him."

"Oh Loki, my sweet murderous Loki. You actually already did."

"What?"

"You probably don't even remember, it was the heat of the battle. I'd gone in to clear the next room when I got knocked down and bumped my head. When I woke up, one of the baddies was dragging me by my ankle into the office, muttering about a sweet reward. How much fun he was going to have with me. He was reaching for me when you stormed in. I don't think you even saw me behind the desk, but you grabbed the guy before he could touch me. I didn't see what you did to him, but I heard it and it sounded very bloody."

"Oh gods, Y/N, I had no idea you were there in the back office. That guy looked deranged, even if we hadn't all been given orders to kill on sight I would have killed that man. If I'd known you were there I'd have made sure you were ok."

"I hid under the desk until you'd left and then I ran straight back to the jet. I felt so bad for not helping more with the fight, but…"

"Y/N, no one would ever blame you for running. That's not something anyone should have to face. Oh gods, and then my stupid brother had to come in and loom over you."

"He didn't know."

"No but that doesn't mean it wasn't terrifying, just the same."

You can't find the right words, and simply give a small nod. After a second of silence the question pops back into your brain. "Why did you leave your daggers on my nightstand? Why didn't you magic then away like you normally do?"

"Oh, uh, I was going to offer to let you borrow them. Just in case Thor tried to come back and visit."

"That's really sweet, but I've never been good with knives. I don't know if I'd even know what to do with them."

"Hmm well is there anything I can do to make you feel safer?"

There was a moment when you thought about saying, no. Telling Loki you'd be safe with his daggers, and sending him back to his room. But you couldn't do it. You could not send Loki away. Not when he felt like the only safe thing in the world. A breath of air after you'd been drowning all night. So you asked what you really wanted, not caring that it made you feel vulnerable.

"Can you hold me?"

"Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes I'm sure. I mean if you don't want to, I won't make you."

Loki gingerly wraps his arms around you, until you squeeze him half to death and he returns with a proper hug. Still holding you he says "I just didn't know if you'd want to be touched after… today and then my brother"

"You are not a brutish villain and you are not your brother. Do not take this as anything but a compliment, but right now the fact that you're not a big oversized muscle man is really comforting. And well neither men got the chance to do anything because of you."

"Y/N, I am so sorry you had to go through all of this. But I'm really happy that you find me comforting. I have done some terrible things that I deeply regret. And I've been afraid for so long that I'd never be able to find someone who felt safe around me."

"Everyone in this tower has done things that they can't take back. Things they regret. Including myself." You breathe in the scent of Loki, winter frost mixed with leather and metal, wondering when that scent had become so comforting to you. "But for right now, your arms feel like home and I don't want to ever leave."

"I will be here to hold you as long as you need."

"I'm going to take you up on that offer, because I might have a concussion, so you're going to have to watch me to make sure I don't die while I sleep."

"Humans are far too fragile."

"That we are. But that's an issue to deal with another day. Right now I just need you to hold me." You whisper as you lie yourself down, pulling Loki down with you. Carefully he wraps his arms around you pulling your little spoon body against his own big spoon body. Listening intently to your breathing as you drift asleep, Loki decides that he never wants to stop holding you.

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onlymexsarah · 3 years

Text

Peaceful || Azriel

Pairing: Azriel x Ancheron!reader

Warnings: my english, minor mention of sex ;)

She was sit on a stool with her feet on the tub before her. Her bare legs bent and a book rested on her knees while her fingers caressed the pages, the words and the characters she was reading about.

Azriel had just finished his bath, only his pants on. His Illyrians tattooes covered his chest, his hair a bit wet and his eyes fixed on the gorgeous woman in front of him. His mate. The Cauldron had the sense of humor. It had made mates three of the four Ancheron sisters of the three bat brothers.

The woman sit before him was probably the one who remained more human in her look, and he loved it, because it reminded him when he started falling for her even before the Cauldron Made her and her sisters. She was the same girl, without need to be more beautiful.

She looked at him while the shadowsinger, her shadowsinger, approached with feline steps. "How are you?"

Her peaceful voice was a song to his shadows that found relaxing and entertaining dancing around her and on her. A thousands answers came in his mind: fine; when i'm with you marvelous; good but if we'd stay in bed for a week living of just sex then I would be better.

Instead he chose to put his right hand on her neck, with his long fingers caressing her cheek raising her face. There was a time when he was ashamed of touching her with his hands, worried of the disgust she might have felt, but that girl had never seemed to notice the different texture that his hands had. Instead, she had the habit to kiss all his scars every now and then just to remind him that there was no part of him that she didn't love.

He kissed her. Once, twice, thrice...he was addicted to her mouth as much as she was addicted to his.

Nothing could separated them. They had spent their mating alone in the cottage, a full week of lips crashing and bodies merging. They had barely eaten, satiated by the taste of each other. There was no wall, no table nor surface that they had not used.

Her legs trembled. Azriel had always had this effect on her body. Even after such long time she still looked at him, in his all glorious beauty, wondering how the Cauldron could value them as equal if he looked like The Mother had sculpted him herself.

She opened her eyes finding his little sly smile few inches from her mouth.

"Ask me again." He whispered.

'How are you, my love?" She said this time sweeter.

That sweetness drove him crazy everytime. It was the sound of the pure innocence that ran in her blood. The same innocence he corrupted long time ago but still filled her body wherever she was. His favourite thing was when that sweetness and innocence showed up in bed, shy to see how much she enjoyed their sex.

He kissed her again, more intensely this time. He tried to voice in that kiss all the gratitude, all the love and all the devotion he felt for her since the day they met. The Mother didn't created enough words to esprime what she was to him, what she made him feel.

"I take it as a 'very good, my gorgeous, goodness mate, but now that you are here even better.'" She mused on his lips. Her book had been forgotten on the floor leaving her hands free to caress his hair whil his right hand stayed firm on her neck. He brought his other hand in her hair, swiping them away from her face for a moment, chuckling at her words.

"You have no idea...let me show you how good I am thanks to you." His seductive voice melted her. His right arm went under her knees, his left one embraced her back lifting her in a perfect bridal style.

She gripped his shoulders with her hands while her cheeks turned of a deep pink. The girl kissed him on the walk toward the huge bed. He squeezed her body in his arms burning his fingers in her skin, his swings wide open.

It was a pure mix of passion and love the one they shared that night. He didn't hold his smirk at the sight at her blushed cheeks, her eyes shone with lust ans devotion while he lied her back on their bed with his body towering hers.

His hungry eyes held the promise of all the things he was going to do with her, all the things he was going to whisper in her ears, with the only intention of hearing just one thing coming out from her mouth.

His name.

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #batboys #night court #rhysand #cassian #feyre archeron #acotar imagine #acotar masterlist #shadowsinger #velaris #nesta Ancheron #elain ancheron #ancheron reader

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bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt:

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will) and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone. He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it. They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. + The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy.

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands.

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?"

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps.

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate."

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came.

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached. The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage. --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him. Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though. As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again. + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel. "We need to make sure she's okay before we move." Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened. You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw. Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-" "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice. Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring. Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother. + "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better." Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him. "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards.

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand. Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way.

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin.

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow.

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now. "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared.

#acotar fic #azriel x reader #cassian x reader

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king-star · 3 years

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hii! can you please make a natasha x reader fic where they both have been dating for a while and it's natasha's birthday and the reader surprises her with a brand new suit that she made herself and nat cries bc she never got a meaningful gift and the reader also surprises her with cake and more romantic gifts. you could make the reader tony's sister so it would make more sense that she's good at making suits but you don't have to!! thank you sm i need sum cute natty 😫

Birthday Suit

Warning: Use of the pet name Sunflower,

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: So this one was fun. I hate my birthday but this actually was cute. I’m trying a new way of presenting the dialogue. aesthetically it looks better but I’m not sure how it reads. I've seen other authors do the dialogue on completely seperate lines so just lmk if this is good.

Word Count: ~2.5 k

Summary: It’s Natasha's birthday, and despite her acting like she hates it you shower her with love.

The smell of cooking cake fills the compound. Even from the workshop, where you are, the sweet scent permeates the air. You have been baking for long enough to know what that smell means, the cake is almost done.

You check the clock on the wall. 2:44. Nat would be home at 5.

“Shit. I need to get this done,”

You shake your head and set down your wire cutters. The list of everything you need to get done before she arrives rolls through your mind.

It was her birthday. She didn’t know her actual birthday so years ago she made one up. The chosen date was a closely guarded secret she only shared with those she trusted most. For the most part the assassin didn’t even celebrate. When you had asked a week prior what she wanted to do she had brushed you off claiming,

“I don’t really care. As long as I get to be with my love.”

She had kissed you, hoping the kiss would fog your mind from any further planning. Unfortunately for her you were a big schemer, always going as big as you could for your friend’s birthdays.

You walked out of the workshop, making one last longing look at her unfinished gift on your messy work table. No one was around today. The one Saturday everyone had off a month. Natasha had gone shopping with Wanda, a plan conncocted to give you plenty of time to get everything ready.

“Friday do you mind turing the oven off?”

you asked the A.I. as you headed down the hallway.

“Of course Agent Y/L/N,”

entering the kitchen you picked up a discarded list of everything that needed to be done. Two items were crossed off “Bake the cake, movie fort.” The unmarked items looked at you teasingly and you felt anxiety rise in your chest. What if you didn’t get everything done and this birthday made Natasha hate birthdays even more? You shook your head trying to chase off the thoughts and went to the oven.

“One perfectly baked chocolate cake coming up,”

grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter. Carefully you coerced the cake from the pan and set it on the cooling rack.

Back when Wanda and you ventured into the baking realm you had begged Tony to put in a floor to ceiling blast chiller. The kind that was always on baking competitions. He reluctantly agreed, with the price of always having to give him a taste of your creations. The freezer was immensely helpful in tight circumstances. You were more than grateful for it now.

You set your cake into the freezer and went to the pantry to pull out all the ingredients you needed for icing. You poured the powdered sugar and placed the butter into the bowl. When you turned on the mixer a cloud of sugary powder exploded in the kitchen. You blinked and licked your lips. Bringing a hand up to wipe your face, you laughed hard. Sugar covered the entire counter and floor beneath you, not to mention your already grease stained clothes.

“Wow, is my little sibling doing coke in here? And without me!”

a snarky voice sounded from across the room. You opened your eyes and squinted at your older brother with a scrunched nose.

“Can it Tony,”

You growled, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off the counter. Tony laughed at you and opened the freezer to look at what sweet treats awaited him tonight.

“A cake? Are we celebrating?”

He laughed and made a teasing face. You rolled your eyes and called out to Friday.

“Can you order me four containers of icing from the store to be delivered?”

“You got it!”

her chipper accented voice came over the audio. You threw the towel in the sink and landed a punch in Tony’s arm as you left to go change.

“You better not eat any of that cake until Nat has had at least one slice. I know where you keep those rare magic cards you think no one knows about and I will not hesitate to cut them all in half,”

He looked at you in shock. Whether it was because you knew about the secret stash or because you would dare cut them you weren’t sure. The only way to get Tony mad was to go for something he couldn’t replace with money.

“YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING DARE,”

You run away as he climbs out of his chair and chases after you. You run into your room and lay on the door to push back a Tony who was only a few steps behind you. When you finally force the door into the frame you turn the lock and fall to the floor laughing.

Angry mumbling came from the other side. Tony pounded on the door twice before, defeated. walking away. After catching your breath you pulled your sugar stained clothes off and changed into the outfit you’d set aside that morning.

“Y/N the man just arrived with the icing,”

Friday called out to your room and you nodded.

“Thank you Friday. Have him set the bags in the kitchen,”

Friday hummed in agreement. You stood up and looked in the mirror checking yourself out. When you were satisfied with the look you unlocked the door and turned to the right. You really needed to finish Natasha’s present. You wouldn’t even have time to test it properly. You really hoped the phrase “it’s the thought that counts,” was true. Her gift could be something that got you endless kisses or a real crash and burn.

Making it to the lab you set your hand on your head and groaned. You really hoped it worked. It was so pretty. You grabbed the wrapping paper and box and set it in with a kiss.

“Natty, I hope you like it,”

The gift finished the fort built, and cake baked, there was only one thing left to do, ice the damn cake. You could bake sure, but only Wanda ever mastered the art of making it look beautiful.

When you made it to the kitchen Tony was nowhere in sight and a plastic bag with what you assumed was icing was set on the counter. You pulled out a butter knife and dug in, hoping this looked somewhat edible. Wanda was the one who was skilled at decorating. You could make the elaborate pastry chef treats, but you could never handle the finer details of making it look pretty.

You were in the workshop when Friday alerted you that Wanda and Natasha were home. A feeling similar to anxiety or excitement fluttered in your chest. This was the first time you’d celebrated her birthday with your girlfriend. You wanted her to like birthdays again. To feel as special and loved as you can pour out for her.

“Thank you Friday. Please tell them I’m in the workshop and will be heading to the game room shortly,”

You set down the gauntlet you’d been fixing while waiting for them and brushed off your outfit. Your eyes searched over the shirt for stains, and when you were satisfied you were clean you headed to your “party”.

Wanda was the first to come in. She threw her hands to her face and “oood” and “aweeed” over the spread you had out.

“Y/N your cake! it’s…. adorable,”

you punched her in the shoulder with a frown. She fell over laughing.

“I TRIED! and I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

you crossed your arms and pouted. She sat back up still laughing and patted your back.

“She’ll love it Y/N. Even if it had ‘fuck you Nat’ written on top she’d love it,”

you smiled at the complement and stopped pouting. You were explaining the technology behind Nat’s present when the woman of the hour finally walked in.

“What is all this? Are y’all having a party? and didn’t invite me,”

she sat down next to you intertwining your fingers with hers and kissing your shoulder. You smiled as the excitement anxiety mix returned.

“Actually…. it’s for you,”

You smiled and kissed her hands. She looked genuinely surprised. You really hoped the feeling was happy excitement.

“oh- Y/N y-you remembered? and you didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I told you i didn’t care to celebrate,”

you felt Wanda stand up to leave with a pat on your shoulder. You smiled up at her and turned back to Natasha.

“I know I know, but I wanted to do something special. You love me so well and work so hard all the time. You deserve a day that’s unapologetically about you,”

You knew if Natasha didn’t have such complete control of her emotions she would be crying. The agape mouth gave that away. You smiled and leaned forward pulling her into a deep, intimate kiss. Feeling her smile against your lips you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you Natashka. I will do anything to make you feel like Queen of the world,”

with that she started crying. You frowned and wiped away the tears.

“I really hope those are happy tears,”

she nodded quickly and smiled, sniffling a little.

“Very very happy tears. happy ‘I don’t know what on Earth i did to deserve you’ tears,”

“It is I who does not deserve you. The Great Black Widow. I’m just here to make you smile, it’s my life goal,”

you bowed as much as you could sitting down. Placing a peck on her lips you turned back to the presents and pointed.

“Which one should we open first?”

she pondered and then picked up a small box. Nimble fingers unwrapped the box and pulled out a Ring. You had managed to get her size weeks earlier fitting one of your own on her finger when hanging out. She looked at the little silver band with a carved sunflower at the head. A smile bloomed across her face and she hugged you.

“Oh my goodness Y/N, it’s so pretty…,”

she slid it onto her fingers, finding the one it fit best and stared at it. You hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Well, you are my sunflower. It’s just a reminder when we are away,”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname. It wasn’t as common for you to use it as baby or sweetheart, but sunflower had always been her favourite.

She looked at the other boxes realising they were also for her. You picked up the next box, a medium sized one and handed it to her. You were saving the biggest for last.

She was just in awe and set it down before unwrapping it. Her hands snaked around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her soft lips pressed kisses to your jaw and she set her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I- no one has done something like this for me ever,”

She hugged you tight again and then let go picking back up the present. You nodded and kissed her head. Pushing some hair out of her face you stroked her hair softly. Her hands once again unwrapped the gift. She squeaked at the sight of the book underneath the paper.

Natasha never got to read much on her own accord growing up. The red room picked out books for her education but never anything she would actually enjoy. Long ago Natasha had told you the first book she read after getting out of the red room was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and since then she adored the book. You had found, and paid for with Tony’s credit card, a first edition of the book. The auction was rough but you needed that book for Natasha.

Natasha stared at the book once, again jaw hanging open. She wiped her hands on her pants before handingly the book with utmost care. She flipped it over and ran her fingertips over the indented letters and gold illustration on the front.

“Y-you like it? I know you said you like Alice in Wonderland. It’s uh… actually a first edition copy. Tony was about ready to kill me when he saw me pay for the bid,”

You laughed nervously. She turned the book around again and then set it on the coffee table. She tackled you and pushed you back on the couch kissing all over your face. You yelped in surprise then grabbed her hips, catching her lips and kissing her roughly. She melted into the kiss but you pulled away.

“As much as I love this Natty, let’s open your last gift and eat some cake,”

You sat up and pulled her so she was in your lap. You placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck as she reached for the last gift. It was heavy but the assassin had no trouble lifting it.

“After that we can makeout in the fort I made. yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you, rubbing circles on her thigh. She laughed and nodded, blushing profusely.

“I like that idea Y/N,”

She opened the box and pulled out the gift you put months of effort into. This time her reaction wasn’t as instantaneous. You helped her pull all the pieces out and set it on the coffee table. She looked at it slightly perplexed.

“I’m sorry… I’m not exactly sure what it is,”

She pouted and looked at you. You smiled and nodded knowing she wouldn’t. You set it out so she could see all the parts.

“Well… uh it’s a new suit. You always say that you don’t like how tight and revealing your other ones are so I kinda beefed this one up so it focuses on functionality,”

She nodded along as you explained. A look of understanding crossed her face as she pulled at the sleeves.

“ohhhhhhhh. That makes so much sense. I- Y/N what the fuck. I can’t express it enough. You are the best, you listened to me and used it to give me the best gifts i’ve ever gotten. You are the most thoughtful partner,”

You beamed. The feeling you knew she was struggling to express, it was exactly what you’d wanted her to feel. Loved, heard, appreciated, and cared for.

“I’m glad sunflower. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel as good as you deserve. D-do you mind if I tell you a bit about the features? I didn’t have time to test some of them so I will need to do that before you take it into combat,”

She nodded and slid off your lap to look at you. You patted her legs and squeezed then held at the sleeve first.

“Well of course it wouldn’t be a suit for the Black widow without gauntlets. These can change through three different modes for different levels and types of stuns also a laser if you need that for aiming,”

You flipped on the laser and pointed it at a pot then turned it back off.

“Also I made it so the suit can suction to your body but be limp to put it on. a lot easier to slip on ya know. And there is mobile but thick padding on all major points of contact for falling. Shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, the like.”

Natasha ran her hands over the surprisingly thin padding and smiled.

“Wow baby that’s… amazing,”

You nodded and picked up the bag attached to the back.

“And uh there’s a parachute built in as well as pockets up the legs, arms and boots so you don’t have to have the belts. They are sorta magnetic so you can like open them easily but when they are closed everything stays in. OH AND THE BOOTS,”

You started to ramble on about the energy absorbing boots you worked with Shuri on that would allow Nat to drop from double the height of a normal human with no damage to her knees or feet. Nat just stared at you hungirly.

“Hey baby, I seriously appreciate the gift. It’s honestly the best thing I've ever gotten. Why don’t we try it out tomorrow and you can show me EVERYTHING. For now we can… sit in the fort like you said,”

She had a cocky smile and you blushed at her antics. You nodded quickly, cutting off your rambling. Her hands found your waist and she pulled you off the couch and into the pillow fort you had built.

“I uh- got a movie for us to watch. Do you want to?”

She nodded and smiled. A look that very much meant “Yes. That's sweet, but I doubt we will be watching it.” You pulled her into your lap, setting your hands on her waist. She draped hers over your shoulders and rubbed light circles on the back of your neck. You leaned forward and trapped her lips in a kiss. Soft but full of passion.

The rest of that night was spent watching the movie and kissing. When you finally remembered the cake a slice had been taken out of it, with

“You were busy with Romanoff so I took what I was owed. The package has been moved, try getting me now little sibling.”

On a sticky note beside it. Natasha had laughed, unsure exactly what had happened but sure it was a story she would much enjoy hearing.

She had moaned over how good the cake was after laughing at how “Adorably” it was decorated.

“So Nat… did I make this birthday worth celebrating?”

She smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes Y/N, if every birthday was like this I would never want to stop celebrating.”

Tag List:

@xburningbluex @zoeyserpentluck @iamgaiiiuwu @natasharomanoffswife @fleurlovesbucky @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @lostandsearching

Natasha Tag list:

@basiclesbianbitch @stephanieromanoff @sapphicshots @madamevirgo @choni-trimberly@wlwlovesreading @i-just-like-storage @screamsin-gay @ymzki-haruki

#black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff #black widow fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #avengers #mcu #marvel #my fic #king-star

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