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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

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Big Brown Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re a single mom and when you drop your son off at Dustin’s while you go to work, you meet his new friend Eddie.

Note: So, this really just came about because I wanted cute interactions between both Eddie and Steve with a little boy. I might write more in this verse if people like this?

Warnings: single mom, reader x ex steve, stancy is together, mechanic!eddie, i think that’s it?

Words: 5.6k

[Part 2 | Big Brown Eyes masterlist]

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hendersons. Sorry we missed your call-.”

“Shit,” you mutter. You sigh and rub a hand over your face. You purse your lips in thought and tilt your head from side to side before picking up the phone again. Thankfully, this time there’s a response.

“Hello?”

“Max, hey! Do you know where the goonies are hanging out today? I’m trying to find Dustin,” you say.

“They’re all at his house. None of them would shut up about the campaign at school yesterday. Why? Everything okay?” Max asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just have to head to work and need someone to watch Ev. I know you have the evening shift at the diner tonight or I would’ve asked you.”

“Where’s Steve?” Max asks.

“Out of town for the day with the Wheelers. Holly had a dance recital somewhere near Indianapolis,” you tell her.

“Mike didn’t go,” she says with a snort. “He’s at Dustin’s with the rest of them.”

“What a loving brother,” you deadpan.

“One of the guys can watch Ev. I know for a fact Lucas has no plans tonight so don’t let him try to make any excuses.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say. “Alright, I’ll try the house again. Thanks, Max.”

“No problem.”

With a sigh, you hang up and pick up the receiver again, your finger jamming into the familiar numbers for Dustin’s house.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

“Hey! Hello?” An out of breath Dustin gasps on the other line.

“You all good there?” you ask.

“Oh, hey. Yeah. I’m fine. Was that you who called before? Sorry, it was the final roll of the dice,” he explains, as if that makes it evident why he wouldn’t answer the phone. You can hear the others shouting in the background. You can’t tell if it’s in happiness that they won the campaign, or anger because they failed.

“Uh huh,” you say. “Listen, one of the girls at work called in sick and I said I’d come help out. Could you or one of the boys watch Everett for me, pretty please? It’ll just be for a few hours.”

“Sure, bring him on by. We all know I’m his favorite.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. There’s no way to deny it, Everett always lights up when he sees his Uncle Dusty Buns.

“Okay, we’ll be there in ten. Thanks, Dustin,” you say.

“Don’t thank me until you get him back in one piece. Bye.”

You chuckle to yourself as you hang up the phone. A squeak sounds behind you and you smirk to yourself at the familiar sound of Everett’s little sneakers hitting the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor. Slowly spinning around on your heel, you catch a pair of big brown eyes staring at you from around the corner. Out of the many things Everett had inherited from Steve, his eyes were what people noticed first. They were nearly identical to his father’s. His hair was also growing similarly, but Everett was still too young to tell if it would be quite as high as Steve’s.

“Is someone spying on me?” you ask.

“Nooooo,” you hear as his tiny head hides back around the corner. His giggling would be enough to give him away even if it weren’t for the scuffling of his feet against the floor.

“I think someone is. I think I was being watched,” you say. You creep around the corner and snatch him up in your arms. The muscles in your arms and back protest at how big and heavy he’s getting.

“By who?” Everett asks innocently. Those damn doe eyes look up at you under thick lashes. It was truly uncanny.

“You, mister!” You dig your fingers into his side, knowing his left is the most ticklish. He squeals and struggles in your grip, trying to break free.

“Mommy, no!” he calls between bouts of laughter.

“Everett, yes!” you answer before peppering kisses all over his face.

He pulls away from your kisses and the two of you look at each other, similar smiles reflecting each other. At least that’s something he got from you. He reaches up to move some hair that’s fallen into your face. It’s more of a smack than a gentle motion, but you know the intention was sweet.

“You’re silly,” he says fondly.

“Oh yeah? Well guess where silly mommy is taking you, Mr. Troublemaker?” you say.

“Toys?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. As if this kid wasn’t spoiled enough by his parents, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who knows him. His obsession with the toy store has stuck with him ever since Karen Wheeler took him there for his third birthday a few months back. You were thankful she watched him as often as she did, and that she spoiled him like her own grandchild, but this obsession was wearing on both your nerves and bank account.

“No,” you say. “Don’t you think you have enough toys? Never mind, don’t answer that, you. Nope, I’m taking you to Uncle Dusty Bun’s.”

Everett’s eyes lit up and he began to bounce in your arms. “Dusty! Dusty!”

More often than not, he called Dustin “Uncle Dusty Bun” in full, but he often reverted to “Dusty” when he was excited or angry. Dustin was never referred to by his actual name by you or Steve when Everett was born, both of you thinking it would be hilarious to give him the nickname instead. Dustin was less than thrilled at first, but the nickname didn’t seem so bad once you asked him to be Everett’s God father as well.

“Yep, come on.” You set Everett down so he can get his little backpack from his room. Whenever Everett went to somebody’s house he packed his favorite toy dinosaur, one of his coloring books, and a handful of crayons with him in his bag.

He runs off, most likely giving the family that lived in the apartment underneath yours a ceiling rattling boom, and you step into the bathroom. Working at the library meant that you didn’t have a uniform you needed to wear. As long as your clothes looked somewhat professional, your hair was neat, and your makeup wasn’t wild, you were good to go. You fix the hair that Everett had swatted and neaten up the rest of it.

Everett jumps into the doorway of the bathroom, blue backpack on and ready to go. “Let’s gooooo!”

“Can’t wait to get away from your mom, huh?” you tease him. You ruffle his dark hair as you pass him, grabbing your purse and keys from the kitchen counter. His loud footsteps echo behind you as you walk to the front door.

“Daddy home?” Everett asks as you’re locking the door behind you.

“Hmm?” you look to Everett who is gazing across the parking lot at the adjoining apartment building where Steve lives. “Oh, no, Daddy isn’t home right now. But he’ll be back by dinner time.”

“Will he make me take a bath?” Everett wrinkles his nose up in distaste as he slips his hand into yours.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” you tell him. You lead him down the stairs to the first floor, Everett jumping with two feet down each step. He hums a song to himself as you walk to the car. Though he hates sitting in it, Everett has become adept at securing his own car seat, which has saved you countless minutes over the past few weeks. “All buckled in?”

He nods to you in your rear-view mirror, and you pull out of the parking lot. It’s not a long ride to Dustin’s but Everett insists on the radio anyway. You weren’t sure when he developed such a love of music, but you’re pretty sure he recognizes more songs on the radio than you do. Love Shack comes on and Everett begins to wiggle in his seat, dancing along to the beat. You were glad the meaning of the song went over his head, and he just enjoys the silly sounds the song makes.

Everett knows the way to Dustin’s and gets more excited the closer you get to his house. He begins to look out the window, straining his neck as if that will help him see his favorite uncle sooner. As you pull up to the Henderson house, you notice a number of cars parked out front. So, the guys were still here.

“Looks like you’re seeing more than just Uncle Dusty Bun,” you tell him as you swing your car into the driveway. You would only be here five minutes; it doesn’t matter if you’re blocking anyone in.

“Who?” Everett asks.

“Let’s go see,” you say, pulling the key out of the ignition.

While your son has no issues getting into his car seat, he hasn’t gotten the hang of unbuckling it yet. He’s grateful when you free him from the confines, hopping out of the car with his little backpack, and running up to the front door. Even on his tiptoes he can’t quite reach the doorbell, so he settles on banging on the door with his little fists instead.

“Easy, Ev,” you say as you come up next to him. You go to press the doorbell but the front door swings open before you get the chance.

“Hey, I thought I heard the little monster out here!” Dustin grins and bends down, letting Everett run into his arms. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” Everett says as he wraps his arms around Dustin’s neck. “Got my dino.”

“Well, of course you do!” Dustin says. He lets go of the boy, who rushes past him into the living room. The loud hum of boys talking reaches you at the door and you nod your head inside.

“Whole crew here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dustin replies. “Oh, wait! Come here, you haven’t met everyone who’s here.”

Dustin closes the door behind you as you step inside. Your brow furrows in confusion as you slip your hands into your back pockets. The house smells like microwaved pizza and like one of the boys is wearing cheap cologne. It’s dark in the house, which makes you roll your eyes, because the boys always insist the room must be dark when playing DND.

“What do you mean? Not just Lucas, Mike, and Will?” you ask.

“We made a new friend,” Dustin says.

“A nerdy friend, I’m guessing,” you mumble under your breath as you follow Dustin into the living room. You can hear Everett babbling to someone, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Besides you and Steve, his favorite people in the world are in this room.

“My sister!” Will cries as he throws his arm over your shoulders. You chuckle to yourself, forgetting when the joke that you were Will’s older sister even started. He’d always been like a little brother to you, so it came naturally enough. You turn your head to look at him and frown when you have to tilt your head up.

“Why are you still growing? You’re already taller than me,” you say.

“Have been for a few years now,” he says with a wink, and you playfully push him off you.

You expect to find Everett either clinging to Mike’s legs or being held in Lucas’s arms, but the two are arguing with each other on the opposite side of the room with no toddler in sight. Everett is never quiet, however, so you just have to turn yourself in the direction of his voice.

“M’not afraid of spiders!” he’s saying. “Spider-man is my favorite!”

Everett is leaning against a fluffy maroon couch cushion, his backpack at his feet, and his eyes focused on the boy sitting next to him. But he is not a boy. He’s a man, your age or maybe a year older. He’s grinning down at your son, the smile knocking the breath from you. You don’t think you’ve ever once swooned in your life, but that’s the best word you think of to describe the feeling. Dark curls fell just past his shoulders and his dark eyes – why did dark eyes haunt you everywhere? – crinkled in the corners as he listened to Everett.

“Yeah? I like spiders, too,” the man says. He adjusts his hand on his lap and the glinting of one of his rings catches Everett’s attention.

“S’pretty,” Everett says. He takes the man’s hand in his own little ones and inspects the different rings he’s wearing. You’re shocked. Everett is usually shy with new people. He’ll barely say hello to a stranger, let alone hold someone’s hand.

“Thank you,” he tells your son. He’s smiling so adoringly at Everett that it quickens your heartbeat even further.

“Eddie,” Dustin calls from behind you. The man picks his head up and looks at Dustin, before turning his gaze on you. He smiles again and you feel pinned in place.

“You must be this wonderful little boy’s mother,” he says. Everett lets go of his hand and walks over to you, hugging one of your legs. Eddie stands up from the couch and steps right in front of you, offering you his hand. “I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Everett repeats down by your legs, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Y/N,” you tell Eddie. You slip your hand in his and notice the roughness of callouses and the coolness of the rings as he shakes it.

“Eddie works down at the garage,” Dustin says, coming up alongside you. “He noticed the DND bumper sticker on my car when I brought it in the other day. Needless to say, we became fast friends. This was his first campaign with us.”

“You have far more patience than I do,” you tell Eddie. “When I try to play with them, they just yell at me.”

“Well, he actually knows what he’s doing,” Mike quips with a smirk as he walks by you.

“When’s that English paper due, Michael? You know, the one on Pride and Prejudice, which you haven’t even read? Didn’t you want me to help you with that?”

“I take it back!” Mike calls from the kitchen. “I love you!”

You smile to yourself and look back to Eddie, who’s smiling at you the same way he smiled at Everett. It should feel patronizing, to be smiled at the same way that a baby was, but it’s flattering. It’s an adoring smile which floods heat to your cheeks.

“I was going to ask how you put up with these guys, but I see you can handle them no problem,” Eddie says.

“Well, when you work at the library and they come there to study and beg you for help, you tend to have the upper hand,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie chuckles. He pats Dustin on the arm. “I’m heading out. Next Saturday, right?”

“Yeah! Look forward to you being the DM. Mike’s been doing it forever,” Dustin says.

“Heard that!” Mike calls.

Eddie crouches down to be on eyelevel with Everett. “It was nice to meet you, little dude. Can I get a high five?” Everett grins and slaps his hand against Eddie’s. It hardly could have hurt but Eddie shakes his hand out as if stung. “Wow! You’re a strong boy. You must eat all your vegetables.”

Everett looks up at you and grins, proud.

“That he does,” you say, petting along his hair. You crouch down as Eddie stands back up. “You’re going to be good for Uncle Dusty Bun, right?” Out of your peripheral vision you can see the smirk Eddie gives Dustin at the nickname.

“Mhmm,” Everett nods.

“Okay, good. I love you,” you press a kiss to his cheek and pull him into your arms.

He squeezes you back tightly and mumbles a “love you too” against your neck. You stand up and Everett takes Dustin’s hand, already dragging him back to the couch.

“Walk you out?” Eddie asks. He motions for you to head out first, so you do. You open the front door, and he steps out behind you. “He’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. The two of you walk to the driveway together and Eddie leans against the van that your car is parked behind.

“But it makes sense, though,” Eddie says. “With a beautiful mom and all.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out from your chest and you look at the ground shyly. You feel the heat go all the way up to the tips of your ears. You’re about to respond by saying he looks more like his dad than he does you, but that might sound like you’re trying to interject Everett’s dad into the conversation as if the two of you are still together.

“Well, thanks,” you say again. You were never particularly good at flirting or being flirted with. Steve often used this to his advantage by flustering you on purpose and the look on Eddie’s face says he might be the kind of guy to do the same thing. “I guess I’m blocking you in. I should get going.”

“Do you often come by here on Saturdays?” Eddie asks as you start to turn away from him. You turn back and give him a smile.

“I’m not here for their DND days. Like I said, I get yelled at. But sometimes Dustin will watch him on Saturdays when I’ve got to head to work. Like today.”

“Libraries are open on the weekends?” Eddie asks.

“Saturday until three, Sunday closed,” you tell him with a shrug. “So, I only have to be there for a little while today.”

“You know, you don’t look like a librarian,” Eddie tells you with a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I’m not a librarian. I just work there. But out of curiosity, what do librarians look like?” You know you need to leave for work, but you walk over and lean next to Eddie against the van.

He shrugs, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. “You know. Usually old. Hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of their head. Glasses hanging from a chain around their neck. Old lady sweaters and a permanent scowl on their face.”

You laugh and rest your head back against the van. “You just described my boss pretty well, so you may have a point.” With a sigh, you push yourself off the van. You didn’t want to head to work before, but now you really wish you didn’t have to go. “Um,” you say. You didn’t intend to say anything, but your mouth opened anyway. A lightbulb goes off in your head and you look at Eddie. “Dustin said you work at the garage, right?”

“Sure do.” Eddie nods in confirmation. “The one on Blossom Trail off Highway Eight. Or is it eighteen? I’m new to Hawkins.”

“Oh yeah? Where from?” you ask.

“Over near Evansville. My uncle lives out here, so I thought I’d see what Hawkins is all about,” he says.

“And are you sorely disappointed so far?” you ask with a laugh, gesturing to the quiet, empty street around you.

“Definitely not.” He grins at you again and the butterflies feel as if they may actually bust out of you this time. Eddie watches you get flustered again and you lick over your lips, remembering your initial question for him.

“So, what days do you work this week? I need to bring my car in for an oil change. The light keeps flashing and one of these days the car’s just gonna stop on me altogether.”

“For an oil change?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, then shakes his head. “Sweetheart, don’t bring your car in for that. I can do that for free. Save your money.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say. Handouts were one thing you consistently tried to avoid since you’d found out you were pregnant. You hated feeling like people felt sorry for you when they didn’t need to. Was being a young mom hard? Yeah, but worth it.

“No, come on,” Eddie says. “They’ll charge you fees and taxes and for the labor when I’ve got the oil sitting right in my shed at home. Really, it’s just sitting there. It’ll go bad if it isn’t used.”

You had no idea if that was actually true or not, but Eddie was gambling that you didn’t have the knowledge to call his bluff one way or the other. Eddie’s pleading eyes are what push you over the edge. It seems impossible that here was another man with beautiful brown eyes who knew how to use them against you.

“Okay,” you finally cave. “Sure. I can bring it by your place.”

“Don’t be silly, I can swing by after work one day. You’re a mom, I’m not going to make you come to me and take time away from your kid.”

The thoughtfulness makes you smile. You motion for Eddie to follow you over to your car. He watches as you bend over into the car – his eyes taking their time – to grab your purse. After rifling through it, you pull out a pen.

“I don’t think I have any paper,” you say. Eddie grins and offers you his hand. You chuckle and take his hand in one of yours. There’s the slightest bit of grease stains under his short nails and his fingers are long, his palm large. You scribble your number onto his palm and stick the pen back in your purse. “I usually get home from work about six-thirty on weekdays and Ev goes to bed around eight.”

“I get home around seven, so that’s perfect timing. I’ll call you soon,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Monday if you want,” he says. “Or tomorrow. Hell, I’d call you tonight.”

The bashful grin on your face only makes Eddie want to flirt with and tease you more. It’s addictive in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I’m not sure what my plans are for tomorrow, so Monday works.”

“Monday it is,” Eddie confirms. “Have fun at work.”

“Bye.” You give him a small wave before getting in your car.

Steve had called you at work to say he was picking up Everett from Dustin’s and they’d be home for dinner. So, when you got home you had a precious hour that could have been spent relaxing, but one look around the apartment and you knew it needed to be used for cleaning. Action figures littered the living room carpet, colored pencils scattered about the coffee table, blocks with numbers and letters on them led down the hallway practically waiting for someone to step on them. It had been a while since you had last vacuumed so you figured you might as well get it over with.

It's in the middle of vacuuming Everett’s room that the front door opened and three people entered. Steve puts his finger to his lips to encourage Everett to be quiet as they creep down the hallway towards you. Nancy reaches out and smacks Steve on the back, telling him not to scare you. He shrugs and pretends that he can’t hear her over the vacuum as he follows Everett towards his room.

Normally, it was hard to sneak up on you. Steve had made it his mission to try and scare you way back before you even started dating. He, evidently, passed this trait along to his son as well. Even the vacuum wasn’t enough to keep you from hearing someone coming up behind you. But your mind was wandering as you pushed and pulled the appliance over the blue carpet. Was Eddie just a flirt in general? Or did he like you? Would he actually call on Monday? Was it a big deal if he didn’t? It was just an oil change, after all.

“Rawr!” Little hands grip your thigh, making you jump and let out a squeal. You cut the power to the vacuum and hear Everett giggling madly to himself and he holds your leg even tighter. “Scared you!” There’s laughter coming from the doorway as well and you turn to find Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms casually across his chest, as if he had nothing to do with this sneak attack.

“What the f-,” you stutter, “fudge, Steve?”

“How did he get away with that when I never could?” Steve asks, referring to the successful scaring.

“Where’s your babysitter?” you snap back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy says, popping in the doorway behind Steve. “I tried to stop him but I think Everett is more mature.”

You smile at Nancy as you scoop Everett up into your arms. “I don’t blame you one bit, Nancy. You’re the only one around here who doesn’t drive me crazy.”

“Hey!” Steve and Everett say at the same time.

“You,” you say, looking at Everett. “It’s dinner time. What would you like?”

“Daddy wants pizza,” he says.

All eyes turn to Steve as he shrugs innocently. “I have no idea how he knows that.”

“You’re paying.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. You set Everett down to follow his father into the kitchen to call for pizza.

Nancy walks into the room and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “You know he’s never going to let it go that he finally scared you?”

“I know.” You sigh and rest your head against hers.

Nancy was always a friend in high school, but never a close one. After Steve and Nancy broke up and Nancy moved on with Jonathan, Steve eventually found you. Becoming friends to more was easy with Steve, but it came with a catch. It was easy to go on fun dates and spend hours talking with Steve. It was easy to drive the younger teens around Hawkins with him, becoming the “mom” to his “dad” in the group – little did you know that those official titles were soon to come. It was easy to trust Steve because you already had as a friend. It was easy to fall into bed with him because you had always found him attractive and kind. What was hard, though, for both of you, was to fall in love. Being together for almost a year, most people assumed you two were madly in love. You definitely loved each other, but both of you knew deep inside it wasn’t the kind of love you should feel for someone you’re in a relationship with.

It was hard, deciding that the two of you should go back to being friends. You were in agreement that it wasn’t fair to one another to stay in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. Two weeks after the breakup, in which you two still remained the best of friends, you discovered you were pregnant. Telling Steve was one of the most terrifying moments of your life, though you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t let you do this alone. What you didn’t expect was how helpful Steve’s mom would be. Not only was she supportive of you and Steve deciding to raise the baby as friends, but she used her connections as the most well-known real estate agent in Hawkins to get you and Steve apartments in the same complex.

Nancy had been away at college while you were pregnant, hearing about the news from her brother who was stunned at there being someone who would be referring to him as “Uncle Mike.” When Nancy came home for summer break, she was elated to meet baby Everett. You were still pretty sure Nancy seeing how gentle and sweet Steve was with the newborn is what led them to getting back together – even battling long distance.

Steve was a little worried this might put tension between the two of you girls, but it was the opposite. Nancy became your closest friend, talking to you on the phone almost as much as she talked to Steve. She loved and cared about Everett but never tried to insert herself as a mother figure in his life. Everett loved playing with Nancy, especially when he saw how well she shot a water gun at his dad. Nancy was now home for the summer, having one more year to go at Emerson. Everett had been a little shy around her when she first came home, having not seen her since Spring Break, but he quickly warmed up and showed her every new toy he had gotten since she’d last seen him.

Everett was thrilled that Nancy was staying just in the next building with his dad. It meant they could go outside and play with his water guns anytime he wanted to. It was sweet to see Steve and Nancy with Everett, but it always left a melancholy taste in your mouth. It just reminded you that Nancy was the only person Steve had ever been in love with, and you had never been in love ever.

“You good?” Nancy asks you, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. She pulls back and gives you a quizzical look. “What?”

“What is that smile on your face?” she asks. You didn’t even realize you had been smiling and immediately wipe it off your face.

“What, I can’t smile?” But you could feel your cheeks turning pink.

“Not like that,” Nancy says. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it sounds unconvincing to both of you. Nancy watches as you unplug the vacuum and wind up the cord. You walk past her to put the vacuum back in the hall closet and she follows behind.

“Something happen at work?” she asks with a smirk. Nancy was never nosey, but she could tell something was going on and she knew she could get you to spill.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” You turn to her and shrug, not quite meeting her eyes.

She smiles at you and reaches out to poke you in the ribs. “Oh, come on. You know you want to tell me.”

Glancing down the hallway to make sure the guys were still in the kitchen, you lean in towards Nancy and speak quietly. “Has Mike mentioned a new friend at their DND games?”

Nancy pulls back with a frown, that being far from what she thought would come out of your mouth. “Um, no. But to be fair, Mike doesn’t tell me a whole lot about his life. Why?”

You avoid her eyes as you lean back against the wall, head barely avoiding the framed pictures that hung there. “Well,” you start. “The guys have a new friend who plays DND with them.”

“Like a kid?” Nancy asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head, keeping your eyes on the kitchen doorway down the hall. “Like a guy. About our age.”

“Oh,” Nancy hums in understanding. “And you met him when you dropped by Dustin’s, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you confirm, still not looking at her. Nancy scoffs and grabs your arm, dragging you into your bedroom. She closes the door and rests her back against it.

“Spill,” she says.

You sit down on your bed and can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. “His name is Eddie. He’s going to come by this week and change the oil in my car.”

“Oh, is he now?” Nancy’s eyebrows raise and your face blooms red at the smirk on her face.

“Actual oil in my actual car!” You huff a laugh and rub your hands over your face. “He’s a mechanic. Dustin met him at the garage.”

“Is he cute?” Nancy moves from her spot against the door and sits down next to you on the bed. You bunch the yellow floral blanket in your fingers as you bite back an even bigger grin.

“Very,” you confirm. It feels nice to have a friend to talk about these things with. Yeah, there were girls in high school with you that you talked about boys with, but you were in a very different spot in your life than they were now. And Nancy was here and knew your life well. She’d become the best friend you’d ever had.

“When’s he coming by?”

“I gave him my number and he said he’d call Monday,” you say. You were about to tell her more about the conversation you’d had with Eddie but pounding started raining down on your bedroom door.

“Moooooooommy!”

“What’s up, buttercup?” you call through the door.

“Lemme in!”

“Excuse me?” you ask.

A tiny huff. “Can I come in pleeeease?”

You stand and open the door to find a little boy with a big smile staring up at you.

“Yes, sir?”

“Pizza’s coming!”

“Good. Know what you can do while we wait for it?” you ask.

“What?” he asks.

“Tell your daddy he needs to give you a bath.”

“Huh?” Steve asks, coming up behind Everett. He’s holding an apple with a bite missing and you remember why your son is constantly asking for snacks before dinner. “What do I have to do?” he asks through a mouthful of apple.

“Bath,” Everett says with a sigh.

“What?” Steve says as he looks down at Everett. “Why’d you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Boring,” Everett says.

“Nothing’s boring with me, you know that,” Steve tells him. He leans down and throws Everett over his shoulder. The little boy giggles and kicks his legs as Steve carries him to the bathroom.

“Please keep my bathroom dry!” you shout down the hall.

“No promises!” Steve answers.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #bbe

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xbomboi · 14 days

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yapping about Briar. fellow Briar enjoyers assemble.

okay okay i don’t make it too obvious (or maybe i do, i wouldn’t know) but briar is my personal favorite character. i think about where the stories of all the characters would go and what their arcs would be a lot, but hers in particular is really important to me.

so i wanna talk about it.

first of all, she’s narcoleptic coded, right. we all know that. but her mom on the other hand reads to me, like, an alcoholic mother? and her dad is just willfully ignorant. either way, there’s a huge sense of neglect going on in that family. i mean go figure why briar would be the one doing most of the work raising her brothers. and of course she’s a party girl, because who’s gonna stop her? her parents? see yeah exactly.

so i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say she doesn’t have very strong parental figures in her life, at least not at home. but, and now you have to really hear me out about this one, i think baba yaga could take up a parental role in her life.

i know it isn’t much, but the seeds for her having at least a hint of a connection with baba yaga are there.

in the webisode “Stark Raven Mad”, baba yaga scolds briar for rambling about her party, and then as the commotion picks up she’s still exercising authority over briar in particular.

then there’s thronecoming, wherein, when briar is sulking at the dance, upon noticing the picture on the projector, she asks baba yaga for answers, who provides them.

and then skipping all the way to epic winter, after the girls become a little creeped out by her mannerisms and book it, briar is the one who makes sure to peak back in and give a parting remark.

so i think there’s potential there to be explored. her feeling neglected at home and then finding solace in another adult at school would be neat.

but the fact that it’s baba yaga is important, so just put a pin in that and we’ll circle back to it.

now, i think out of the core four, she was (at least at first) the hardest to actually pin-point what the future of her story could look like. with raven, i think it’s pretty clear her journey is just continuing to combat the prejudices of the world as she fights for change, apple is now pretty much on a path to figuring out her own future as ruler of a kingdom and what that’s going to entail, and maddie is the goofball that’s there to have fun and be supportive along the way.

then there’s briar. and, let me be clear, no, in my mind that girl is not sleeping for 100 years with where things are heading; in the main universe of the story, briar will be free of the sleeping beauty destiny.

but it’s like, if she’s not gonna sleep, what more is there to actually do with her? what direction COULD her life go in? because if she’s no longer fated to sleep 100 years of her life away, then she can’t just party like there’s no tomorrow anymore. she’d need to decide what she actually wants to do with her life.

and i think i have an idea.

i mentioned her narcoleptic coding at the start with intent to bring it up again. see, you might notice that a lot of the fairytale aspects of ever after high can be read as allegories for real-world problems. for example, hunter and ashlynn’s relationship is treated in their world the same way society may look at queer couples or biracial couples. or how raven’s mom being trapped in a mirror is their world equivalent to not paying child support.

with that kind of correlation in mind, i think treating briar’s curse as a condition could open up an interesting opportunity. i think, in their world, curses as a whole could be viewed as a separate branch of medical specialization, with briar spearheading this notion of thought.

we know briar is well-versed in chemythstry already. in the webisode “Briar’s Study Party” she makes note of the fact that she’s been studying forever-after, and she demonstrates enough knowledge in the subject to enthusiastically teach it to her friends, who all end up acing their tests on it as a result.

i think this is something she could potentially make a career out of. i think she could come to the conclusion that she wants to be able to help break curses for people everywhere, and could pursue learning to develop potions and elixirs to do so.

which could happen under baba yaga’s tutelage.

picture this: briar declares her newfound goal, to which baba yaga offers to teach briar all she knows in order to achieve what she’s set her sights on. briar—with an ounce of hesitance—accepts, and baba yaga officially takes her under her wing with the intent of mastering sorcery.

obviously, she wouldn’t lose who she is in this. she’s still gonna be an impulsive, adrenaline junkie who desperately needs a screentime limit on her mirrorphone. but in this process, she’d be rounded out by baba yaga and would in turn mature a bit from the experience. she’d get serious about life, but she wouldn’t let go of who she is at heart.

this could lead to her becoming the resourceful one in the main group. like on adventures, she’d be able to pull out a potion or whip something up (because i’m not going to let raven’s magic make her too o.p. she’s gotta have limitations) as a solution to problems. she could really have a role that proves useful and important to the story.

that’s my ideal pitch for where to take briar’s character.

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igotanidea · 1 year

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that damn gala: Jason todd x fem!reader

the graphic is not mine, found it on Pinterest, all credit goes to the author.

Summary: credit for the idea goes to @p4inis: Can someone write a fanfic of “wear whatever u want, I know how to fight” Jason x fem reader???? Like they’re going to a gala and reader can’t choose which dress she should wear and Jay is her biggest hype man.

hope you'll like it: )

A/N: this is part of my Cheshire!reader!verse. You can find another story of it here in the post: Cheshire cat. And there will be more coming for sure since I'm having a lot of fun writing this verse.

Warning: cursing, a bit of sexual innuendo, but nothing explicit, Jason being a warning of himself :D

„Please, remind me why did I even agree to this?”

“Because you truly had no other option?”

“I hate you.”

“We both know you don’t.”

“Really? Do we?” Y/N smirked. Dick Grayson was her longtime friend and it gave her one privilege no one else had. She was resistant to him charm. So when he asked her to come over the annual Wayne gala it took a lot more than a pretty please and a nice smile to actually convince her to do so. Unlike many girls, she hated having to get all dressed up, putting on make-up and heels and acting like someone different than she really was only to win over some potential investors. Honestly, for a long time she couldn’t understand why was it her business. That lasted until Bruce offered her a job, an old RD position of her late father. Of course, the numbers were tempting but the thing was finally made her say yes was the opportunity to work with the latest technology and to put her ideas into work. And use them on patrols later on. So she gave in.

And soon one thing led to another, when she was forced to get involved into those stupid galas. Dick hated them equally as much, but at least he would be accompanied by Babs and they definitely would keep each other entertained. Unlike her friends, Y/N was going to be there by herself since for obvious reasons her beloved anti-hero boyfriend could not attend. So, she would either join Tim in deep conversation concerning Wayne Enterprises, sulk in the corner with Damian scaring people away with only look or spend the night getting drunk from all the expensive alcohol. One way or another it was going to be a loooong night.

“Yeah, we do. Come on Y/N, please, I’m gonna need your help you know it.”

“My help? Dick you are making zero sense. You will have your girl to dance with, Tim to take the duties and Damian for a security system. Why do you need me?”

“Because out of everyone you just mentioned, you are the only person that is actually fun.”

“Should I tell Babs about what you just said?” the girl laughed and heard Dick do the same on the other side of the phone.

“Please don’t” he turned deadly serious a second later “but you know what I mean. We both have known every guest for years now. We know their behavior, their bad traits and can predict who, when and how will make a fool of themselves. We have our inside jokes. Come on, please…..”

“Fine, stop whining, it’s out of character. I’ll come…..

“I knew you will give in at some point.”

“shut up, Grayson. I’m not giving in. Firstly because you will owe me and you know I’m not lenient when someone is in debt with me. Secondly, Jay will not like it, so good luck with having to deal with him. And lastly, I still got my cat claws on, so don’t expect me to be an egg-sucker.”

“As for the debts, that something we’ve been back and forth with for years now, so nothing new. I can deal with my brother, and Tim will deal with toadying, he’s used to it after all.”

“I hate you, Dick.”

“I know Y/n. See you at 9. You need me to pick you? Since you are coming alone?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Cheshire will swing by earlier and change in the manor if that’s fine.”

“I’ll leave the window open. See you, Y/n.”

“See you, Dick.”

She disconnected the phone and rubbed her forehead in frustration. She really though she would get away this year, but she’s been keeping this foolish hope for the last five years, always with no desired result. She always came and frankly it was never even half as bad as she expected, not that Y/N would ever say it out loud. But now, she had to choose a dress to go in and that was the hard part.

***

“Please, tell me you’re not preparing for the gala.” Jason stood in the door, only half-dressed In his gear, watching his girlfriend hurrying-scurrying in front of her wardrobe wearing only a sport bra and a pair of leggings.

“I am…” she groaned

“Was it Grayson? Did he force you? Do you want me to talk to him?” he took a few steps closer and grabbed her hands calming her down a bit.

“Nah. It’s fine. It’s always like this. He said I should come, I object, he uses his last-year arguments and I pretend to fall for them. It’s kind of tradition now. I would hate to break it.” She shrugged

“Maybe I can make knew tradition of making Dick attend the party with a bruise or…..”

“Stop it, Jay!” Y/N punched his shoulder and he grinned “if I really didn’t want to come, believe me I wouldn’t. But it really is entertaining making quiet jokes about all those bigwigs with excessive self-esteem and watching Tim trying his best to not speak his mind. The only thing that sucks about it is that I have to go alone” she moved her hands up his arms to his neck, pulling him in and he immediately grabbed her waist and leaned his forehead on hers, swaying from side to side.

“We can have our little party here. Or you can come with me to the patrol.” He whispered

“Mhm, don’t try to play me. That offer is a trap on your side, Red Hood only works alone. If you don’t count two teammates. And he does not want or need anyone else. Let alone little troublesome vigilante that also works with the bats.”

“That little vigilante cat knows her ways around words. She can play two sides, doesn’t she?”

“Jay, come on. You will never let me go with you and I will never ask. Too much of a risk and distraction. But I’m up for that party for two idea later on….”

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” he whispered seductively and leaned in to kiss her, but she quickly pulled away.

“Maybe. Maybe not. That depends if someone will take me home after the gala tonight. I mean, I have a couple dresses to choose from and I could use man’s advice on what to wear. Even if I absolutely hate the idea of playing the bait for man’s money. And I hate getting dolled up. I’ll be much more comfortable with tee and sweatpants or my suit. But I don’t have much opportunities to look nice, so…..” she pecked Jason lips quickly and moved towards the open wardrobe “what do you think, boyfriend?”

“Babe” every word she just said stung him. He knew she would never betray or cheat on him, but the thought of all those creeps staring at her and getting dirty ideas made him want to tie her to bed and keep her in the sheets with him, reminding her who’s the one to always keep her high and satisfied. But they all had duties to take care of. So he settled on embracing her from behind and kissing her neck softly “you know you can wear whatever you want. You will look hotter than hell. And I know how to fight if anyone would like to steal you away.”

“Babs is the resident beauty not me. If anything Dick should be scared. I’m only …. Addition.”

“Addition?” Jay kissed her neck again hitting her soft spot and making her gasp “you’re the crown jewel, babe. I wish I could go with you and watch everyone getting so jealous of me having you all to myself….” his lips on her skin was sending goosebumps all over her body.

“Jace….” She whispered closing her eyes

“Yes, sweetheart?” his grip was now tighter and she loved it and hate it at the same time.

“Let go of me. Now. Cause if you don’t neither me nor you will leave this apartment tonight.”

“Would it be so bad?” he muttered against her shoulder blade but reluctantly released her. “you should wear the black and red one. You will break necks in it.”

“Bet it has nothing to do with the fact some particular vigilante got those colors as a signature.”

“Vigilante? Who? I don’t really recall anyone choosing that palette.” He smirked with the boyish grin and she could not stop herself from kissing him again.

*** It was 8 when they both left the apartment, using different exits and wishing each other good luck. No hugs and kisses since that would only make them waver once again. Red Hood was on patrol while Cheshire made her way towards Wayne Manor making sure no one was following her. Being truthful to his words, Dick left the window open and without any trouble she found herself in his room, where much to her surprise she found Babs getting ready.

“Hey there, girl.” She smiled removing her domino mask and meeting with red-head wide and sincere smile “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, kitten. Is my boyfriend cheating on me?”

“Oh, you caught me! I only came here to tell him our little affair was over since I cannot do this to my best friend.” Y/N put her hand on her heart “And arguably because my boyfriend was after him to hurt him, but that’s on the side.”

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Barbara smiled again and came to hug the other girl “dick told me you were going to get ready here so I thought we might as well help each other in preparation.”

“Oh, thank god for your foresight. I have no idea how to drape this freaking dress to avoid putting my whole chest on display.

“I had my suspicions about that.”

“And I am absolutely hopeless with makeup and hairdo, so yes, please and thank you for any help you can give me.”

“Don’t worry, my friend. I will make you look perfect.”

***

Barbara really was a magician with women stuff. Only because of her skillful hands and endless ideas Y/N was now looking like a real lady, classy and gentle, even if most of the times she was just a girl next door. Her dress fit her perfectly and any risk of showing too much was eliminated by cleverly used veil, draped on girl’s shoulder. Her make-up was almost invisible since Y/N had pretty skin (luckily she got no bruises or cuts for the last week so there was no problem with that) and she refused using anything more than some concealer, liner and mascara sticking to the minimum. Unlike Babs she ditched the lipstick not wanting to look like Joker after having one drink and leaving stains on the glass and all over. But still, she felt odd, especially standing next to Babs with her perfect figure and proud posture. Cheshire was used to skin tight suit that was supposed to protect her and enable all the kicks and punches, but this? Evening gown that accented all her hated curves and imperfections made her feel exposed, not protected. And this was another tradition that was happening every single year even though after all this time she should already be used to it.

“good evening, ladies.” Dick emerged from behind and offered an arm to Barbara “Babs, Y/N.”

“Richard.” Babs smiled at her boyfriend

“Hello Grayson” Y/N smirked only to cover for her insecurity. In a second she would be left all alone like a prey while Dick and Babs will make rounds together.

“You look nervous kitten” Dick pointed out and Y/N scoffed

“Nervous? Of course I am. I’m nervous for the safety of everyone here. You know I got…..”

“claws, I know. And that is exactly why I took care of things.”

“I’m sorry you did what?” she nearly choked because of his words.

“There’s this one guy, really big fish in IT industry. We are trying to get him to share some ideas with WE. And since you are in a warlike mood, you will talk to him. Besides, you are the only one here that actually knows enough about the technology to cover the subject so…..”

“Are you insane?!” she yelled-whispered “did you even hear a word I told you about attending this gala. I wanted out of the radar not being put on the spotlight! What happened to…..” she paused when an elderly couple passed through and smiled charmingly “what happened to the inside jokes and making fun of people?!”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it’s like I said. You’re the only one knowledgeable enough to succeed. Just this one guy, please, and then you are off the hook.”

“Where is Tim when you need him?” she hissed and reached for the nearest glass of champagne “I don’t think I can do it sober.”

“I will owe you twice” Dick pleaded

“That is tempting…..”

***

The guy assigned to Y/N was hot. Tall, dark haired and well-build, with perfect nose, lips and all face. His eyes glistened when he saw her approaching and in a real gentleman manner he turned towards the girl.

“You must be miss Y/N Y/L/N?” of course his smile was perfect as well and Y/N was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth

“I am” she smiled through gritted teeth “I suppose you’re the tech genius Mr. Blake?”

“ Please, call me Desmond. It would be so much easier to cut the distance this way”

“I see you are very direct Desmond. Does that match in the workplace?” he might have been a predator but she was the one who hold power over words, not the other way round.

“We are not in workplace, are we?”

“But we are supposed to discuss some RD matters.”

“Who said we can’t have a little fun while at it? This is a party after all.”

“High-class party, Mr. Blake and as a CEO you surely understand that.”

“Of course, I had nothing wrong on my mind. Tell me, miss Y/N, do you dance?”

“Only when I’m forced to” she muttered making sure he couldn’t hear her while taking another discreet sip of champagne

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I do, although I am not very good at it.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner. Let me guide you” he offered his hand and lead Y/N onto the dancefloor.

This was going to be a looooong night, she thought while noticing Dick and Babs moving to the music on her left. Dick put his thumb up while Barbara only smiled. This was already a torture. Hopefully, things were going better for Jay.

***

Two hours and three drinks later Desmond seemed a bit nicer than at the beginning. Y/N was not drunk, she was used to keep her senses alerted all the time so she poured away all the alcohol Desmond so wholeheartedly kept on bringing. He did not and that’s why they were now sitting on the secluded couch, far from the crowd, the man babbling about how pretty she looked and how much of his type she was.

“I think you had enough Mr. Blake” she put a hand on his when he reached towards another glass. Apparently that was a mistake since he turned her gaze towards her, his eyes widening.

“Tell me Y/N, why is a girl like you alone at the party? I mean, you are hot.” Oh, fuck. She knew where he was going now. “and everyone here is just ogling you, me included.” Fuck square since he moved closer, almost grabbing her hip.

“ You’re drunk” she said standing up “I think you should sober up. Alone.”

“Don’t you dare turning your back on me, you little bitch. Who do you think you are?”

If only he knew…..

“A woman who knows better than to argue with you. You work for your own reputation Mr. Blake and let me tell you, you are only embarrassing yourself right now. Maybe you should stop before some reporter takes a picture of you stumbling.”

“You think you are so high and mighty, huh? A strong, independent woman, working for Wayne? Acting like a whore to get some attention and you can’t even get a boyfriend?”

“Careful with words, now” she warned slowly turning into Cheshire

“Or what? What exactly will you do, huh? Cause I don’t think you will do a thing…..” he lunged forward and before she could react had her pressed onto the wall, his lips on hers “you are only good for one night stand. And you ask for it, wearing that dress, you little bitch. You only deserved to be fucked and forgotten.’ He was using the fact no one could see them in this place

“Get the fuck off me!!!” she yelled all her instincts kicking in when she pushed the man away and he stumbled back. Unfortunately, while doing so, he stepped onto the hem of her dress tearing it apart and leaving Y/N legs almost completely exposed. “Damn it.” She muttered turning red while the man started laughing like crazy which finally caught some attention and Dick immediately came running for rescue.

“What is going on here?”

“Your little wanton friend is finally dressed the way she should be from the beginning.” Blake snorted

“Mr Blake, I think you should leave….” Tim rushed from the other side of the ballroom scared that either his brother or his friend would kick the man’s ass and made even more of a scene. This was going to be a PR nightmare.

“Leave? Oh, no, no, no. Not before I have a little fun with your little rag doll, here.”

“Let me though.” Another voice interrupted the discussion and Y/N, Dick and Tim turned their gazes towards the side where it came from.

“You’ve got to be kidding me….” Dick whined

“Oh, hell no!” Tim screamed

“What the…..?” y/N said in surprise

“What. The fuck. You think. You are doing?”

“Jason…..” dick tried to step between his brother and Blake before it came to fisticuffs. All of a sudden the latter became much more sober than a second before.

“Get out of my way, Dickhead. This scumbag just humiliated my girlfriend. I will not let him get away with it.”

“I’m sorry but…..”

“You are not sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry and I can’t let you through. We are trying our best to avoid bloodbath here.”

“I don’t fucking care! He asked for it.”

“Jason.”

“Back off, replacement!”

“Jason.”

Only now he stopped in his tracks. Because of her voice. Her soft, calm voice. All this time she was standing there silently watching the scene, her dress torn apart , hair messy due to the scuffle, being her calm, collected self. Fuck, she was so beautiful, somewhere deep inside he could not blame this man for wanting her. Who wouldn’t wish for this beauty to be in his arms. But she was his and only his. Only he was allowed to hold her and kiss her and love her. No one fucking else. And this one here, were not only trying to force himself on her, but also called her a bitch and a whore. And that was something Jason Todd could not let go easily.

“Jason, please, let’s just go home.” She said calmly “come on, baby. Nothing happened, all right? He’s not worth your anger. He’s just sad, pathetic man with a lot of problems, apparently. I’m safe.”

“Baby” Jason came closer to her sneaking his arms around her pulling her close “he needs to be punished. He offended you. Let me take care of that…..”

“Nope. Not this time. Besides, as much as I appreciate your effort, I can take care of myself and this one is just beyond are level. So why bother when we can go home and have that little party for two you mentioned earlier?” she caressed his side softly looking straight into his eyes and he was slowly melting.

“See? I told she is a whore! You better watch out for her, she will cheat on you with the first man…..” Blake did not get to finish the sentence when Dick and Jason grabbed each of his arm and dragged him out the door.

“This will hit all the headlines tomorrow morning….” Tim stammered out, his face as white as a ghost

“You can just buyout all the press companies in Gotham” Y/N said, equally white, but not because of the press.

“Are you kidding me now Y/N?!”

“Come on, Tim. Not the first PR drama for WE. We can turn this around. If not as Y/N and Tim then as Cheshire and Red Robin. We’ve done this before, all right?”

“Fine.” He huffed “One problem at the time. Now, are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?”

“He could never. I’m better and stronger than it seems in this dress, or rather half-dress now.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have to stand against my own rules and help dick and Jason beat the man.”

“Speaking of the devils, this is taking them too long. Do you think maybe we should check out what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. The boys are making sure Blake would never come around again. And from what I can predict his company will go down soon.” Barbara chimed in

“If that’s coming from the Oracle, who are we to argue?”

“By the way, where is Damian? He was supposed to act like security. How the hell did Jason sneak in? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather dance with my boyfriend than see him fight again ….”

“I was not the security! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I was forced!”

“Who wasn’t?” Tim scoffed

“You’re good Y/N/N?” Damian asked turning towards the girl

“Yes! God! I’m fine, please stop asking me that. I’m just a bit ….. tired.”

“You can stay at the manor than. There is always a place for you.”

“Thanks Dami, but…..”

“She is not going to stay. I’m taking her home.” Jason came into the view again, his nose bleeding.

“What did you do Jace?”

"I told you I know how to fight for you."

“Where is Dick?” Barbara became alerted and both girls exchanged looks

“I’m here. I’m fine. It’s all taken care off.” The oldest Wayne was clutching his bleeding nose as well.

“Did you two have a fight? How unsurprising…..”

"Wait, you beat each other instead of that fucking Blake?" Damian frowned "Can I do it then? I need some action, this party is boring like hell."

"He's been taken care of as well. Probably won't come around ever again" Jason stated proudly.

"What did you do him? Can you descibe in details?" the youngest brother suddenly became much more energetic and interested.

“I’m out, I’m done” Tim turned around throwing his hands in the air “you are all on your own now. I;ve got to do some damage control. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Remember your promise.” He left and so did Damian leaving Jason, y/n, Babs and Dick alone.

“Why did you beat him Jace?”

“He was supposed to watch out for you!”

“I said I’m fine!”

“But who knows what could have happened?!”

“could have, would have, should have….. How about we stop with the possibilities that never came to life, hm? How about you calm down, Jace?”

“How can I calm down?! You could have been hurt!”

“Dick? Babs? I’m so terribly sorry for everything that just happened.” Y/N decided to stop paying attention to Jason for a while.

“As much as I hate to say it, it might have been a bit of my fault.” Dick admitted

“a bit?!”

“Shut up Jason. I’m not talking to you now!” Y/N hissed and he just stood there with open mouth but did not dare saying a word. “I think we should call it a night, do you agree, Babs. We can’t let boys kill each other, right? Someone has to be smart.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We can’t ever rely on them with life choices, can we?”

“Nope. But I guess that’s the Wayne charm. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure y/n. I’ll let you know if dick’s coming after Jay to take revenge for the beating.”

“Ok. I’ll let you know if Jace is coming after Dick to avenge my honor” Y/N laughed and waved Babs and Dick goodbye before turning to Jason. “As for you….”

“Look, I did not mean to make a scene…..”

“Jay….”

“I saw you in danger and acted without thinking…..”

“Jason….”

“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you…..”

“Oh for god’s sake!” she moved forward and cut his babbling with a passionate kiss taking him by surprise and leaving a few spare seconds for his brain to react and started kissing her back, his hands travelling up her sides. “I love you, you idiot. And I’m not mad at you, really. That was kind of…. Hot.”

“Only kind of?” he smirked

“Yes, because you still think I cannot take care of myself. You really don’t have to put the guns out every time you think I’m in danger. Especially when I’m not.”

“but you still like me in my vigilante mode, don’t you?”

“I never said it.” She scoffed

“Sometimes, words are not needed. I can settle on sounds.” He smirked and she smacked his head becoming red.

“Why are you even here? What about patrol? What about….red’s matters?”

“It’s a quiet night. I was patrolling nearby by accident….

“by accident?” she raised an eyebrow

“And thought I would swing by. And you know the rest.”

‘You are a child, Jason. A big child. And we definitely have a lot to work on in that area. Are you going back on patrol?”

“I wasn’t planning on, but…..”

“Good. Cause you know, I might be a bit turned on and need someone to take care of that. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Let’s go upstairs.” He picked her up and carried her the stairs to his old room, bridal style.

“Wait, here?!” she squealed when he threw her onto the bed and climbed up hovering over her body.

“Do you think I can wait? Honey, I need you right now.” He pressed his lips onto her, delighting in the way she melted into him and started letting out those sweets sounds. “now we can start our party” he smirked moving down her body, removing the straps of her dress and taking care of each square centimeter of her body.

“Jason….” she moaned arching her back “come on, don’t tease…..”

“I’m taking my time with you, babe. You will have to deal with it….”

@pinksirensong @somest1 - let me know if anyone wants a tag in any of my stories

611 notes · View notes

sisterofsomeone · 2 months

Text

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

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soldwrecked · 8 months

Text

ROLF “RIFF LORTON” LAUTMANN

womb to tomb wasn’t never a joke for me.

note on shipping with riff.

NAME: rolf wilhelm “riff lorton” lautmann

D.O.B: november 6, 1939

AGE: eighteen

SEX: male

ORIENTATION: closeted bisexual

OCCUPATION: former mechanic, current gang leader

FAMILY: born to wilhelm and helene lautmann, no siblings. partners and children are verse dependent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: short brown hair. blue eyes. skin is somewhat tanned but still on the pale side. there is a crescent scar under his left eye and other assorted scars scattered across his body. he has three tattoos, one of a woman on his right forearm, one of a skunk on his right shoulder and the word happy on his left shoulder.

EDUCATION: high school dropout

RELIGION: raised catholic, doesn’t practice

ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral/evil

ZODIAC: scorpio

PERSONALITY:

can’t you shut up for a single goddamn second?

nihilistic. stubborn. quick to anger. overprotective. reckless. fast talker (both figuratively and literally).

HISTORY:

Rolf Lautmann was born to Wilhelm and Helene Lautmann on November 6, 1939. The birth was a difficult one and the doctors said that it was a miracle Helene didn’t die. After Rolf was born, both of his parents decided that they wanted as little to do with him as possible. His mother was out all night, often with different men, and his father wasn’t much better. His father’s temper was the worst thing about his early life; he’d often take his anger out on his son, leaving him bloody and bruised on the kitchen floor.

When Rolf was twelve, he ran away. The police brought him home within the hour, so he waited until the house was empty and ran away again. This time, he hid in the dumpster in an alley. He was planning to wait until morning and use what money he had to buy a train ticket, but he was discovered before he could put his plan into action. Luckily for Rolf, he was found by Anton Wyzek. It was the beginning of a life-long friendship and a bond that everyone said was closer than the bond between brothers.

When the boys were fourteen, they started the Jets. They knew of other gangs and had decided to make one of their own to protect the West Side. Rolf had, somewhere in the time of him turning thirteen, started going by Riff Lorton. This was partly because he’d always hated his name and partly because it’d be harder for his parents to find him with a different name. Tony went by Tony, like he always had. The Jets grew quickly and soon encompassed the whole of the West Side. They were the greatest, as Riff liked to say, and nothing could tear them down.

tags

verses

it feels so scary getting old ; verse - pre canon. riff is born to wilhelm and helene lautmann. his life is a living hell, so he runs away at twelve with the intent of catching a train away from new york. he hides in a dumpster overnight and is found by tony wyzek. the two quickly become inseparable and create the jets together at fourteen. the jets grow in size and tony and riff are on top of the world. nothing and no one will tear them down.

born to die young ; verse - canon. tony comes home and riff negotiates the rumble. everything goes to hell in a handbasket when tony dances with bernardo’s little sister. nothing good comes of these two days and morning dawns with three dead bodies and three grieving women.

one step ahead of the wrecking ball ; verse - post canon. riff lives but tony is killed in the crossfire. riff is forced to deal with his guilt and the consequences of his actions.

when are you gonna grow up ; verse - modern verse. riff is your stereotypical bad boy. he doesn’t go to school much and generally runs around causing trouble. he still has the jets, but they’re more of a nuisance than an actual threat.

pretty girls wanting to dance ; verse - 20’s verse. riff runs a speakeasy and is constantly dodging the local authorities. he lives life on the edge because, really, is there any other way to live it?

you gotta get your story straight ; verse - any and all interactions with muses that do not exist in the west side story universe. this includes fandomless ocs. it does not include west side story ocs.

ships

your beauty never ever scared me ; otp: riff/grazi

stick to your own kind ; otp: riff/maria

you are west side legendary ; otp: riff/tony

i’ve held my breath since i saw her ; otp: riff/johanna

i’m so in love that i might stop breathing ; otp: riff/lucy

held hostage by my feelings ; otp: riff/rosalia

come and dance yeah? ; otp: riff/olivia

relax it’s a social mixer ; otp: riff/susan

dynamics

womb to tomb ; dyn: riff/tony

little man you’re a king ; dyn: riff/the jets

we can powwow friendly like ; dyn: riff/bernardo

i’m a paying customer ; dyn: riff/valentina

miscellaneous

there’s dust on everything ; aesthetic

hand to heart ; headcanon

who cares who i am ; faceclaim

#char : riff lorton #it feels so scary getting old ; verse #born to die young ; verse #one step ahead of the wrecking ball ; verse #when are you gonna grow up ; verse #pretty girls wanting to dance ; verse #you gotta get your story straight ; verse #your beauty never ever scared me ; otp: riff/grazi #stick to your own kind ; otp: riff/maria #you are west side legendary ; otp: riff/tony #i’ve held my breath since i saw her ; otp: riff/johanna #i’m so in love that i might stop breathing ; otp: riff/lucy #held hostage by my feelings ; otp: riff/rosalia #come and dance yeah? ; otp: riff/olivia #relax it’s a social mixer ; otp: riff/susan #womb to tomb ; dyn: riff/tony #little man you’re a king ; dyn: riff/the jets #we can powwow friendly like ; dyn: riff/bernardo #i’m a paying customer ; dyn: riff/valentina #there’s dust on everything ; aesthetic #hand to heart ; headcanon #who cares who i am ; faceclaim

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endless-summer-soldier · 7 months

Text

cruel to be kind - chapter four

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 2.7k

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Bucky took a deep breath as he sat in the announcers’ booth in the sports stadium. He was about to make a total fool of himself and he was hoping it would be worth it. Y/N said sweet talk wouldn’t work on her, so Bucky decided to step up his game. They say actions speak louder than words, right?

The field hockey team was currently running drills toward the end of their practice and he knew this was his moment. He flipped on the microphone, turned on the stadium speakers, and signaled to his collaborators to get in position.

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you

You’d be like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

Bucky took a few steps down the bleachers as the field hockey team paused their training to determine where the singing was coming from.

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I’m alive

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you

He pointed right at Y/N as he emphasized the ‘you’ of the last line. A brief pause followed the verse then he heard a whistle from the drum major and the handful of marching band members he coerced started playing their respective instruments to the familiar tune. The girls on the field started giggling at the interruption and all eyes were on Bucky. He gave a quick wink to Y/N before continuing.

I love you, baby

And if it’s quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm the lonely night

I love you, baby

Trust in me when I say

Oh pretty baby

Don’t bring me down, I pray

Oh pretty baby

Now that I’ve found you stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love youuuu

By this point he noticed a security guard in a bright yellow shirt approaching and he knew he had to make a quick exit. He stood in the middle of the bleachers and started running down toward the bottom row. The band continued on playing as Bucky made his escape. Another security guard was making his way up the bleachers, so Bucky pivoted and started running laterally. He was lucky in that his pursuers were wannabe mall cops who weren’t in the best shape so out-running them was a breeze. He looked back down at the field hockey team and found them all laughing heartily at the encounter while Y/N stood there in a state of shock and amusement. Bucky put on his entertaining hat and paused for a moment and started dancing. One of the security guards caught up to him, but Bucky jumped down a row on the bleachers and gave him a quick pat on the bum before darting off. He jumped off the bleachers and gave a quick bow to his audience before running out of the stadium. The whole crowd was cheering and laughing, except for the one person he was seeking approval from. He caught her eye as she stood there with her arms crossed, shaking her head, with a wry smile on her face.

Bucky sat in the lecture hall and tapped his pencil on the desk while the TA handed out the test. He was ill prepared and he knew it. He could usually bullshit his way through his courses but calculus took no prisoners.

He let out a deep sigh as he studied the first question, wracking his brain to remember the unit circle.

“James Barnes,” he heard. He popped his head up and saw his professor searching for him. Bucky squeezed past his classmates and strode down the steps to the lecturer’s desk.

“James, I just received a call that there’s been a family emergency that requires your attention. You’re excused from the exam to go deal with the situation. Email me once everything has been resolved and we’ll find a time for you to make up the test.”

Bucky’s heart dropped and he was immediately concerned with the news. Things must’ve been pretty bad for him to be pulled from class. He wasn’t even sure how he responded to the professor but he numbly rushed out of the lecture hall.

As he burst out of the building, he found Y/N standing there with a knowing look on her face.

“Well someone’s in a rush,” she commented.

“Sorry, I can’t talk. I’ve gotta call my Ma.”

“Family emergency?”

“Yeah, how’d you…know…”

She merely shrugged. “There is no family emergency, is there?” he asked.

She shook her head with a growing smile. “You did this?”

“I mean you did embarrass yourself in front of the entire field hockey team for me, so I figured it was the least I could do.”

“So what now?” he asked.

“Are you telling me you’ve been chasing after me all these weeks and you don’t have any date ideas?” she retorted.

“Oh it's a date now?”

She gave him a warm smile and ceded, “It’s a date.”

They found themselves walking along the boardwalk as the sun began to peek through the clouds. The beach was close to the campus but just far enough away that it wasn’t usually flooded with students. Considering it was a weekday, the boards were pretty empty aside from the occasional retiree walking their dog.

“Have you been out here before?” he asked her.

“I think I came here with my family when we first looked at the school, but that was years ago.”

“I come out here to think sometimes.”

She looked at him with a sense of wonder, “What do you have to think about? Your poor choices?”

He scoffed at that, “If only it were that simple.”

Before she could ask a follow up question, they heard two chimes of a bell. Bucky reacted instantly and grabbed her elbow pulling her toward him as the surrey bike flew past them, two teenage girls giggling as they avoided impact.

“Never understood the appeal of those things,” he commented.

“You’ve never been on a surrey?” she asked. He shook his head and she grabbed his hand.

“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the bike rental stand.

Moments later, they were pedaling away, learning how to steer via trial and error. After a few minor crashes, they fell into a rhythm, pedaling together on the open boards.

“You know, you’re actually pleasant when you put your guard down,” he stated.

“Oh is that so?” she challenged.

“Honest. So why do you act out the way you do?”

She let out a deep sigh, “Ah, onto the hard hitting questions now.”

“Don’t try to talk around this. I want an answer.”

She thought for a moment, “I don’t like to do what people expect. Why should I have to live up to other people’s expectations?”

“So you disappoint them first.”

She shrugged a silent confirmation.

“Well you screwed up,” he said. She turned to look at him and he continued, “You never disappointed me.” A blush crept up her cheeks and she turned away, hiding the smile that was slowly forming. Giddiness was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“What about you? What’s your story?”

“Grew up in Brooklyn. Raised by a single mom. I have a little sister.”

“And how do you explain your tough exterior?”

“I just genuinely don’t care what people think of me.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My best friend growing up was a bit of a runt and he was always picked on. Yet even when he was bullied, he wanted to be liked and he would do anything to be accepted. And that always made me so upset because he was so much better than them and yet all he wanted was their approval. I didn’t want to be like that. So I decided to just go out there and be myself and maybe I am an asshole, but at least I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“That’s oddly refreshing. I wish I could be more like that.”

“The only part that sucks is that I met you.”

She scoffed, “And that sucks?”

“It does, because I do care about what you think of me.”

She became flustered yet again, but this time she deflected with humor. “Bucky Barnes, do not get all cheesy on me now.”

“I thought you liked cheese?”

“I mean, I like some havarti on a sandwich but I’m lactose intolerant when it comes to men.”

“Understood, no more cheesy lines.” They sat in comfortable silence, pedaling along when the bells and music of the arcade graced their ears.

“How would you feel about a little friendly competition?” he asked, as if reading your mind.

“I hope you’re ready to lose,” she replied, shooting him a big smile.

“Let me guess, you want to show off your strength on the boxing machine?” she said, pointing to the seven foot machine that was covered in red, white, and blue.

“I’m insulted that you think I’m that much of a moron.”

“Then what did you have in mind? Mortal Kombat?”

“Skeeball.”

She grinned, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he replied. Y/N was very competitive, and Bucky couldn’t believe how much of a turn on it was.

They lined up next to each other and slid two quarters into the slots as the balls poured into place. They both looked toward each other and Bucky counted them down. On three, they both grabbed a ball and rolled it up their respective lanes. Y/N’s hit the middle slot with ease, while Bucky’s reached the high score on the top corner. Y/N glanced over at him and saw his score adding up quicker than her own. She decided to intervene. As he wound up his next ball, she bumped her hip into his side and his ball flew off target, falling into the bottom of the board.

“You’re playing dirty with me?” he asked.

She shrugged, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think that was just a bad shot.”

“Bad shot my ass,” he grinned, as he shot his next ball. He couldn’t let her get away with that, so he waited for her to grab her last ball. As soon as she wound up, he swooped in and grasped her hips, picking her up with ease and flipping her over his shoulder.

“Bucky! Put me down!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“I have one more shot left!”

“Take it up here then.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I am completely serious.” He took a few steps back from the skeeball machines and stopped. “Shoot away,” he smiled.

She hit him on his back with her free hand until she realized her efforts were pointless, he was too strong.

“Fine, but I want a rematch,” she gave in. Bucky turned her so that she was facing the lane and she somehow managed to aim straight enough to make contact, but it didn’t have enough force. The ball rolled back down towards them and Bucky deftly placed Y/N on the ground and picked up the ball. He lined up and took her final shot, landing it in the top right corner. Her score totaled and she had outscored Bucky by 50 points.

She stared at him and said, “This time, I’m beating you without your help.”

They played a few more games before switching to the basketball shooting game. Bucky must’ve played basketball at some point in his life because he made most of his shots. They continued wandering through the arcade, stopping to play games that interested them. Y/N spotted a photo booth across the way and took Bucky’s hand, pulling him behind the curtain.

Bucky fed his money into the machine and they browsed through the templates until they found one with stars around the border.

“Okay, silly pose first,” Y/N announced as she pressed the start button. She stuck her tongue out at the camera while Bucky gave her bunny ears and crossed his eyes. The second frame came quickly and they were captured in a candid transition to the next pose. The third frame they were ready for. As Y/N bared her pearly whites to the camera, Bucky placed his hand on her cheek and turned her toward him.

Before she even realized what was happening, Bucky leaned in and captured her lips with his. She initially froze but easily fell into the kiss, allowing his tongue access to her mouth. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he tightened his grip on her, not wanting to let go. They were interrupted by the sound of the photostrip printing out. Y/N pulled away and collected the photos, studying the two of them and how adorable the photos came out.

“I guess our time here is up,” he commented, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Y/N poked her head out from behind the curtain to look around the arcade. There was no one else in sight, so she returned to the booth. “I think we can stay in here just a little longer,” she said, finding his lips again.

Giddy was the only word to describe her current mood. She had forgotten what it felt like to be giddy. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the last time she felt this way, but she thought it was around the time she turned nine and had her birthday party at the roller rink.

As she walked back into her apartment building, with Bucky smiling by her side, she knew she’d remember this moment. Little did she know how quickly the mood would shift.

She was unlocking the door to her apartment when she heard that voice.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Zemo called, approaching the couple with Sam in his wake.

Bucky felt a chill go down his spine. He knew nothing good could come from this interaction.

“Hey guys,” Bucky said tensely, obviously not wanting to engage in conversation.

“We haven’t seen you around much, Barnes,” Zemo added.

“Been busy,” he said tersely.

“You’ve been spending time with our next door neighbor here and haven’t even bothered to swing by and say hi?”

Y/N was studying this interaction closely, sensing the tension in the air.

“Guess it just slipped my mind,” he retorted.

“Well, I have to commend you on the commitment,” Zemo smiled.

“Commitment?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bucky. He clenched his fist, highly considering knocking out his former friend just to get him to stop talking.

“Leave it man,” Sam said, nudging Zemo. But it only encouraged him more.

“Commitment to the bit,” Zemo said, looking right at Y/N this time. She returned his stare, trying to figure out what his angle was. She didn’t bite, but he elaborated anyway.

“Barnes here only asked you out because we dared him to.” His gaze shifted to Bucky and he said, “Job well done, by the way. It really looks like you’re interested in her. Would’ve fooled me.” And with that, Zemo walked off. Sam stood there and gave Bucky an apologetic look before he turned and followed his roommate.

Y/N stared up at Bucky and he was afraid to look down and meet your eye.

“So all of this was just a big joke to you?” she asked.

“Y/N, let me explain…”

“Fuck you,” she said, biting back tears. She walked into the apartment and slammed the door in his face. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to be strong. This was why she didn’t let people in. She couldn’t let herself get hurt.

“Fuck!” Bucky said, as he walked out of the apartment complex. He slammed his fist into the glass window next to the door. The glass shattered but remained intact, leaving a strangely beautiful web of broken shards. He studied his fist, not bothered by the pain, but he knew he needed to tend to his bleeding knuckles. He went home, trying to figure out how he would dig himself out of this one.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #college au

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 9 months

Text

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 4: Stepmother

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your father reconnects with you.

Hello! This one, in comparison to the last, kinda flew outta me! Keep in mind that this is Episode 2 from Reader's POV; a lot of the action here is centred on Viserys, Alicent, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and thus the canon events are sorta sidelined by Reader's Big Adventures as a Toddler, lol. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for tolerating my bullshit and reading this thing, lol!

TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's courtship shenanigans with various underaged females, ranidaphobia (fear of toads), childlike angst.

You never really thought a lot about the things you used to do with Mama. Now that she is dead, you begin to see all the ways that your days and nights had so so much Mama and not much of everyone else.

When Brella woke you up and got you into your dress, you would go straight to wherever Mama is to break your fast. Sometimes, that was in her rooms or in her solar where the sun shone in from the window and made you yawn. Other times, she would be with Papa in the Council rooms or with ’Nyra, so you’d go there instead. Mama always helped you by cutting up your food with the knife because you are too little to touch it, and then she watched you with kind eyes while you used the fork very carefully. After you finished all your food, you would sit on the floor with Brella and learn each of your letters by tracing the etchings in your hornbook and thinking of all the things that started with that letter. Your favourite letter is ‘M’ for Mama. You also like ‘R’ for ’Nyra because her full name is Rhae-nyra, but you stutter when you have to say the whole thing. Then, you would play with your dolls for a while, and then have some more food, and then take a nap. When you woke up, Brella would teach you some of the steps to the dances that grown-up ladies do—one day, you’ll be grown-up and do them, too, so it is important to know them and practise all the steps so that the lords think you are pretty and marriage-able. Mama would then take you outside to play, or even just walk around the gardens so that you could touch all the flowers and feel warm in the sunshine. Brella would give you a bath, and then you would eat supper, and then Mama or maybe Uncle would come and read you a story and you’d go to sleep.

But Mama is gone now, and Brella is the only person that is the same from your days and nights before Mama went away and became not-real.

You never saw much of ’Nyra before, because she is ten years older and that means she doesn’t want to play with little girls like you all day. ’Nyra comes by lots now, almost as much as Mama did, and she sits and plays dolls or teaches you more words in High Valyrian. It is nice, even though she always has to leave for her Council meetings because she is the heir now. But you don’t mind. Usually, Alicent stays behind to practice your dance steps with you or to trace over the letters in your hornbook. When you get upset—letters are very hard and sometimes you want to throw the hornbook away, but Brella tells you “no” which makes you frustrated—Alicent sings songs her mama taught her, and when she hugs you, it is like it was with Mama, special and warm and love-feeling on the inside, like butterflies.

Even though ’Nyra and Alicent and Brella all try so so hard to fill your days and nights with all the things you used to do, like it is the same as it was, it’s not the same. You dance and play and eat and learn and sleep but Mama isn’t there to help with any of it like before. It makes you cry sometimes, sudden and coming from nowhere at all. You just stop and cry and cry and no hug or song can make it any better, and you cannot say exactly why you are crying because you don’t know how to put it in words. You don’t know how to talk about the way you miss Mama when you see the flowers and she’s not there to tell you their names, or when you learn the dances and she doesn’t hum the music that you do the steps to, or when you want a hug the most and no one can do it exactly right like she can. So, you cry, and you have to wait for all the tears to get themselves out before you can stop.

It isn’t all sad, though. Some things are good, too.

Like Papa. Since he had come to tell you that Mama and Baelon died, he has ignored you, which means he doesn’t look at you or talk to you or even think you exist. Brella and Alicent said it is because he is grieving, because he is feeling sorrow, so you try not to be so upset that he doesn’t love you anymore. But one day, instead of ’Nyra coming to see you, Papa does.

When Brella suddenly stands and curtseys, you see him in the doorway of your rooms, and your dolls don’t seem very important anymore. “Papa?” you ask, almost sick with the fear and excitement of him finally being there.

He smiles, a small one, and comes inside. As he looks around, it’s like he cannot remember where he is, but you suppose that he doesn’t spend a lot of time in here with you, so he finds all your things strange. Papa pulls out one of the chairs by the table—you never sit there, but all the rooms in the Keep come with tables so you aren’t allowed to have yours taken out—and holds out his hand to you like Mama did when she wanted to give you a hug without getting up.

You put Alysanne down on the floor beside Marya and Hana and Brella and go to your papa. His hand feels funny, not like you think it used to. Uncle’s hands—man’s hands, he always says—have hard skin in parts, which makes holding them scratchy. Papa’s aren’t like that. His are soft where Uncle’s are not, but there are bits where the skin doesn’t seem to want to stick down all over, and instead they come up and show the really red parts deeper inside, like when you fall over and the stone stings against your knee and makes you wail.

“Oh, my girl,” Papa says, and then he’s lifting you onto his knee. He is looking at you, just looking, and his eyes are shiny-bright. “My girl. My little Aemma.”

Lots of people say you look like Mama, whose name was Aemma before she was Mama, and you love love that Papa thinks you are like her. She is who he loves the most, so maybe he will visit more if she is gone and you are like her.

You don’t say that to him, though. “I miss you, Papa,” is what you say instead.

“I know.” He swallows hard. Maybe he has venison stuck there again. “I am sorry. I should have come much sooner. You are only… only a child.”

“I’m a big girl.” You try not to pout, because Uncle says only silly little babies do that when they’re angry or upset, and you’re not a baby.

That makes Papa laugh. “Oh, of course you are. My mistake. Tell me—what have you been doing as of late?”

He’s never asked you that before. Papa would only ever give you hugs or say nice things about you to other people back when Mama was not dead, so it’s very exciting that he wants to know about you now. You tell him all about how ’Nyra is teaching you High Valyrian and how you are learning your letters with Brella, which he seems interested to listen to. When you tell him about how Alicent helps you learn the dances, he starts talking again.

“The Lady Alicent? She has been spending time with you, has she?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“And what do you think of her?” he asks, staring very closely at you. “Do you like her?”

The question is strange. She has been ’Nyra’s friend for a long long time, so Papa should ask your sister instead of you if he wants to know if Alicent is good. But you think about it anyway—you think about how she takes you to the Sept to light candles for Mama, how she always sounds like she wants to hear what you are saying, even though you’re only little. You think about how warm she is, and how her hugs make the sad go away so well.

That stays in your mind longest of all, which is why you say what you say to him. “She’s good, like Mama. I like her lots.”

He makes a noise but doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he looks away from you, his eyes going far away like he’s seeing something different than what’s in front of him. It makes you wonder again about why he is here.

“Is there a bad thing that happened?” you ask.

He frowns, his knee jumping a little bit under you. “What makes you say that?”

“You don’t come and see me, Papa, but you’re here, so maybe you have to say something bad again.” It is hard not to think about the last time, when he told you Mama was dead and Baelon was, too. It’s even harder not to think about how long that was before now, how this is the first time in a while that you have seen him up close. “Do—do you still love me?”

Papa says your name in a very sad way and hugs you so hard that your arms feel pushed in too close. “You are my daughter, my blood. The very best of your mother and I. ‘Tis through my own weakness that I have not done my duty as a father, and naught of your own.” When he pulls away, he cups your face in his hands. “Never, ever doubt that I love you.”

It makes you feel so warm inside, like your heart is going pitter-patter or someone has wrapped a big blanket all around you. Papa’s words are safe words, because they mean he has not forgotten you and he still wants you and loves you. You are very, very glad, so you put your hands over his and squeeze to show him that you love him, too.

“Okay, Papa,” you say. He looks like he might cry, and you don’t want him to be so upset, so you think of how Alicent sings songs to you when you are sad to distract you, which means she tries to make you feel more happy. You cannot sing very well, but you do have nice toys. “Can I show you my dolls?”

All of a sudden, his sorrow goes away and he smiles, showing his teeth. “Why ever not? Go on, then.”

Beaming, you wiggle off his lap and get Alysanne and Marya and Hana to show Papa, and you are very happy because he loves you again and the whole world doesn’t feel so sad anymore.

You’ve known Laena and Laenor Velaryon for as long as you can think of.

It is very hard to think far far back, because you are only small and so there is a lot of time that you were only a baby for, and babies don’t really have memory, which is what Brella has told you. But Lord Corlys is one of the men on Papa’s Council, who help him run his kingdom well and make everyone happy. Because Lord Corlys is Master of Ships, he spends most of his time in the Keep, and he is Laena and Laenor’s father, which means that Laena and Laenor also spend time in the Keep.

They are both very nice to you. Laena, the older one, always makes sure to smile and give you a curtsey whenever she sees you, and Laenor likes to say that your hair is braided well or your dress is pretty. You are little, though, and that means they don’t really want to spend much time with you, so ’Nyra knows them better. When Princess Rhaenys, their mama, brings them to court, she and Lord Corlys usually spend their time with Papa and Mama while Laena and Laenor spend time with ’Nyra and sometimes Alicent.

Today, something strange is happening. It looks like Laena has come without Laenor to spend time with Papa.

They are walking in the gardens together, and Brella has told you that it means you cannot go out to play there. Instead, you have to be in the sitting area that looks over the gardens with ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys. Both of them are watching Papa and Laena very carefully. You are glad you don’t have to do that—Brella has brought your hornbook outside so that you can do some more learning while you wait for Papa to finish.

You sit on a cushion on the stone next to Brella, the hornbook in your lap. Over and over, you trace the letter ‘T’, the big one and the little one next to it. “Tree. Trail. Toe”—you wiggle yours underneath the leather of your slippers—“Toy. Toad—”

“Toad?” Brella’s eyebrow is raised high. “Wherever is this ‘toad’ that you can supposedly see?” She looks around, chin tilting and eyes crinkling like a glare.

“In my mind.” You do see it there—brown, with big bulging eyes and feet that look like claws are at the end of them—and shiver. All the books make them look so horrible. “The toad is up here,” you say, pointing to the spot between your eyes and your hair. “It’s squishy and cold and has spots on it.”

Brella shakes her head. “That is not the game, is it? Real things only, please.”

“There’s no more ‘T’ words. I need more so I can go to ‘U’.”

“Hm.” Brella stares past you for a moment, and then her eyes fall on yours again. “How about I help? Over there”—she points to where Princess Rhaenys is sitting—“the bit that is dangling off the pillow? Tassel.”

“Tassel,” you say, stretching the ‘ss’ sound out like a snake. “Tassel.”

“And…” She stops, and from the way the skin between her brows scrunches, she must be thinking very hard. “Ah! What am I?”

“You’re Brella,” you say, confused.

“No—that’s who I am. What am I being, right now?” She hasn’t helped you any more with these words. She might have made it even harder to guess. “If I’m helping you to learn,” she says, “then I am tee… What?”

It’s almost like your head is on fire from how much you have to think. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath and push like you sometimes do when Brella is showing you how to use the privy like a big girl. It is hard, because ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys are talking and the sound is distracting.

And then, you remember the word. “Teaching! You’re a teacher!”

“Exactly, Princess! Well done!” Brella smiles.

“… to elicit some anger from me, you should know that you're failing, Princess.”

You look to the side. ’Nyra is being very loud, her voice so easy to hear even from where you are. Princess Rhaenys is no better.

“Quite the opposite. Whether it's to my daughter or to someone else's, your father will remarry sooner than late,” she says with a funny twist to the lips that doesn’t look very friendly at all. “His new wife will produce new heirs, and chances are, better than not, that one of those will be male. And when that boy comes of age and your father has passed, the men of the Realm will expect him to be heir, not you. Because that is the order of things.”

You do not even have the time to try and make sense of what she’s said—Princess Rhaenys has used a lot-lot of words—when Brella stands and grabs you under the arms. Your hornbook falls onto the blanket laid out on the ground with a quiet thud.

“Come along, Princess,” she says, already pulling you toward the stairs.

“But—”

“This conversation is not for us to hear.” She takes your hand and moves slowly onto each step so that you can go down them one at a time. Soon, you are at the bottom and your shoes are on the trail that goes all the way around the gardens.

You tug your hand free of Brella so that you can run to the grass, smiling wide because it’s like a cloud under your feet, so it is very fun to twirl around on. When you reach it, your footsteps go from hard and quick to soft and slow, and you pretend there are so so many pillows on the ground that you are jumping on.

“Be careful!” Brella calls, but you are not paying much attention.

You swing your arms out wide and spin so fast that the world stops being full of things and is only colours—blue and green and brown and yellow—mixing together in your eyes, and your heart speeds up and gets so loud that you can hear it inside your ears. When you stop spinning, your eyes keep trying to move quick and your whole body wants to tip over. You let it, giggling when you collapse and the grass pokes you in the back of the neck like tiny little swords, or needles. The sun is warm warm on your face and even through your dress, and it makes you so sleepy, so you get up before Brella decides you should go and have a nap.

Then, you see Papa walking with Laena, Lord Corlys with them. They are all going back towards where ’Nyra and Princess Rhaenys are. Where you are.

“Papa!” you say loudly, feet already moving before you know what’s happening. “Papa!”

You cannot see his face up close, but you imagine he is smiling, so you run even faster, trying not to listen to Brella calling out behind you. She doesn’t like it when you run.

It takes only a moment to know why. Your eyes are still going funny and your body still wants to tip over, so when your toes get stuck in the place where the grass becomes the trail that Papa is on, you fall.

Your hands are stinging when you realise you are on the ground again. It hurts so much that you cry before you even see what has made it hurt. Rolling over so that you are sitting, you lift your palms up. They are so red, like the colour of the dragons on your House sigil, and they are covered in all the tiny rocks that the trail is made up of, but they’re not coming off. You cry harder.

“Oh, Princess.” A little hand comes in right next to yours, gently grabbing onto your fingers. When you look up, you see Laena next to you. She doesn’t look scared or upset, which makes you feel a tiny bit better.

Brella is breathing very hard. “I am so very sorry, Your Grace—I did tell her not to run—”

“Not to worry, Nurse,” Papa says as he crouches down beside you. “Children hardly do as they are told all the time. Sh, my girl, you’re alright.”

He pats you on the back, but that doesn’t stop the stinging in your hands or the tears that are coming fast from your eyes and making your nose feel runny.

“I can help, if you’d like.” Laena gives you a small smile, her other hand on your shoulder. “Just need to brush off your palms, and you’ll be fine. Here.” She holds on to your wrist and runs her fingers over the rocks in your hands, which doesn’t feel nice but doesn’t hurt either, and they come away very quick. The stinging isn’t as much after. “See? All better.”

“Say ‘thank you’ to the Lady Laena,” Papa says, looking between her and Lord Corlys with a strange face.

“Thank you, Laena.” You sniff hard to try and stop your nose from running so much. Now that the pain is less, the tears are slower.

“As you can see, Your Grace,” Lord Corlys says, “she conducts herself beyond her years. Her age is inconsequential. She’d make for a worthy bri—”

Papa stops him from finishing his words. “Not—not now, my Lord.” He smiles the way Uncle sometimes smiles at Lord Otto, meaning it is not very nice at all. “We’d best save that discussion for… another time.”

“Your Grace.” Lord Corlys steps back, bending his head low.

Laena stands and leans down to help you up, wiping away the last tears from your cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. “Are you alright now?”

“Yeah,” you say. She is very kind, you think, feeling warm on the inside.

“Nurse,” Papa is saying, “take her to Mellos, just in case.”

“Understood.” Brella picks you up so that your head settles where her neck meets her shoulders and turns around. Over her shoulder you can see Papa and Lord Corlys talking while Laena just stands there, watching them.

And, across the gardens, ’Nyra looks over at them from where she is on the balcony. You cannot see her face clearly. From so far away, though, she seems almost… sad.

There are whispers all around the Keep.

One of the things you like best about being small is that people forget you’re there. It helps you to see and hear things that you wouldn’t usually be told. You don’t understand why you cannot know the things that others do, especially if they’re about your family.

Like now.

Uncle has been gone for a while. He left after Mama’s funeral, and he didn’t even say goodbye. You don’t like to think about it, because it makes you hurt in your chest when you do. When he left to see Lady Rhea, who he hates because of reasons-you-don’t-know, he still made sure to send you letters that Brella would read out to you. This time, he hasn’t sent you anything, and because no one will tell you where he is, you cannot send any to him to remind him that you’re still here and waiting. It’s one of the reasons you cry sometimes, though you’ll never tell that to ’Nyra or Alicent or Brella or Papa.

Even if Uncle is making you sad right now, you still love him, which is why you listen closely when his name keeps getting used by the lords and ladies around you.

“Prince Daemon has seized Dragonstone…

“… even now occupies it in spite of the King’s…”

“… he stole Prince Baelon’s dragon egg, the shame of it!”

Some of it, you don’t understand. But, slowly, a picture forms in your head. One where Uncle has gone all the way to Dragonstone, which Brella says isn’t even that far, to take the egg meant for your brother.

Uncle was angry when Papa made you and ’Nyra choose an egg for Baelon. He yelled at Papa about how he never gave ’Nyra or you an egg as a baby because you were only girls, and what would he do if the baby was another girl? Would he put the egg back and wait for Mama to have a son? Papa didn’t like that at all, and he pretended that Uncle didn’t exist for days until Mama made them say sorry to each other and get along again. But before they said sorry, Uncle asked you if you wanted him to get a dragon egg for you, because dragonriding is in the blood of all Targaryens and you are a Targaryen, too.

“Say the word, sweetling. I’ll take Caraxes right now, should you wish.”

Uncle is walking you back to your rooms after you spent time in the gardens, your hand in his. From the way he frowns as he stares out to the end of the hall, he must still be very angry from the fight he had with Papa in the morning.

You think about his words. “You and ’Nyra didn’t get a dragon from an egg. You found one that was already—already there.”

“I did. But if your brother is to receive a dragon in the cradle, you ought to have the opportunity to claim your own first.”

It would be nice to have a whole baby dragon, all for your own. But Uncle says that sometimes they don’t hatch, that the egg turns to stone and stays that way for so so many years that people forget it has a dragon inside it, and they think it’s just a shiny rock. You don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t want to wait and wait for something that will never come.

“I want a big dragon,” you say, thinking of Caraxes with his long-long neck and his funny noises, more like a bird than a scary monster. “One I can ride already.”

Uncle smiles, squeezing your hand tighter. “Alright, then. For now, you’ll wait, and you’ll get nice and strong. And when you’re older, you’ll go to Dragonstone and find yourself a hatchling, or a young dragon, or perhaps even one of the larger ones.”

“Like you and Caraxes?” You look up at him. “You got him when—when you were thirteen?” You don’t know how much that is, but you know it’s more than ten, which means it is a big number.

“That’s right,” he says, his eyes shining in that way that means you did a good job. You love it when he does that because it means he thinks you are very clever. “And I’m sure that when you’re of suitable age, you’ll have your own chance.”

The talk makes you think straight away that maybe he is trying to get a dragon for you like he said would that time, even though you really want a big dragon that makes your little-ness not seem so little. But then, you hear more.

“… he’s taken his whore to wife…”

“… styled himself the ‘rightful heir to the Iron Throne’…”

“It’s clearly an act of sedition!”

A new picture: Uncle has gone to steal Dragonstone, to steal an egg, and to steal being the heir from ’Nyra.

Stealing is naughty. Once, you stole a lemon cake from the platter after Mama said you couldn’t have anymore, but Mama caught you and you weren’t allowed to have any sweets the whole next day. You wonder how Papa will help Uncle to learn not to steal, if it will be as bad as that.

So many letters could have come from a place like Dragonstone by now. It means that he hasn’t sent any because he didn’t want to, not because he couldn’t. That makes the hurt in your chest even worse.

Because of Uncle’s being naughty, you spend the day with only Brella. Papa is in meetings with his Council and Lord Otto has gone to Dragonstone to tell Daemon he is bad for stealing. You don’t know where ’Nyra is, or Alicent. Brella is extra nice, though, and she lets you have three lemon cakes with your midday meal even though it makes you very giggly and want to run around everywhere. You do all the normal things: learn your letters and practice the dancing steps and play dolls and go outside to the gardens. It isn’t very fun with only one other person, but sometimes people are busy which means they don’t have time to do the things you like doing.

When the sun is starting to go down, Papa comes to see you again. But he’s not alone at the door—he has Alicent with him.

“Good evening,” he says, smiling wide as he goes to the seat he always sits in when he visits your rooms. Alicent follows, but she isn’t smiling as big as Papa.

“Hello, Papa.” You watch with a frown as Brella curtseys and leaves the room. She doesn’t usually leave you by yourself.

Papa holds out his hand, so you go forward and take it. “I have some news to share with you,” he says, patting your hair. “What do you know of marriage, my girl?”

You try to think about all that you can remember. “That—that you and Mama were in one, and Uncle is in one with Lady Rhea. And people aren’t supposed to have babies unless they’re in marriage, but sometimes they do and that’s bad.”

“Oh, my! Well, it sounds like you know a great deal, indeed!” Papa is laughing now, and Alicent’s face has gone bright red. She won’t look at you, which is strange. She is being very quiet.

“You know that I am King?” Papa asks, which makes your eyes go back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Well, a King must have a Queen. ‘Tis important for the stability of the Realm.” He nods like he is agreeing with himself, even though you don’t know what he means so you can’t say he is wrong.

“Mama was the Queen,” you say. It is the only thing you can think of.

“Yes.” Alicent comes forward. Her hand starts moving toward you, then changes to go near Papa’s shoulder, but then she puts it back down in front of her. You wonder what she was trying to do. “An excellent Queen,” she says quietly.

“She was.” Papa sounds sad, but he takes a deep breath. “But the time has come for me to take a new wife—to marry again. I have chosen the Lady Alicent to be my new Queen.” He stares at Alicent, who smiles even though her fingers are twisting around and around each other like she does when she is worried or scared. “Do you understand what I am saying, my girl?”

When Mama was real and not dead, she was the Queen. That meant she had to stand beside Papa and wear a crown sometimes at feasts or balls. She had to have tea with the ladies who come to court and make sure all the maids and servants and all the other people who work in the Keep got their coin for doing their job. She had to give out alms and talk to all sorts of different people all day and try to have babies who are boys and not girls.

Because she was Papa’s wife and he is the King, being the Queen meant she was your mama. You miss her lots and lots.

Papa wants Alicent to be the Queen, now. If she is the Queen, then maybe she has to do all those things, too. Maybe it means she will do all the things that Mama did with you that made you so happy.

“Uh-huh.” You stare at Alicent. “Does that mean that we’ll break our fasts and learn more dance steps and play outside together?”

She smiles. “If you like, Princess.”

You think you would like it very, very much.

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