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#if anyone has any fic ideas feel free to send them my way
silvercyclops · 20 days
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Those two panels of them standing in the same room revitalized me I'm in such a silvercyclops mood rn
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theoreticslut · 2 years
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「 jealousy, jealously 」
eddie munson x henderson!fem reader
summary: you were a part of hellfire long before your brother and his friends got to high school, yet they fit right into the club while you get pushed aside. 
requested: no
word count: 6.4k
warnings: light angst, jealousy, brief arguing/raised voices, lots of fluff, kissing, fake gagging, few curse words
a/n: i apparently can’t write short fics for eddie, but i don’t think anyone is complaining about it. plus, i think the fics are freaking adorable & i’m highkey kinda proud of them. so i hope you continue enjoying them, as i’ve got plenty of ideas for him with more coming daily. if you’ve got an idea you’d like done (for eddie or any other st character) feel free to send it my way & i’ll give it a go. also, i couldn’t think of a better title than this, but the actual fic has no purposeful inpsiration from the olivia rodrigo song. i hope you enjoy it regardless! Xx
Part 2 out now!
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You groan as you see your brother and his friends make their way through the cafeteria towards you. Knowing it was their first day of high school, you had no doubt they’d try to sit with you. It’s not that you don’t want them to, but you’re terrified that they’ll embarrass you in front of your long-standing crush and dungeon master.
It had been a few months into your freshman year of high school when the small group of friends you’d found yourself in started ranting about how weird and creepy the Hellfire club - and their leader, Eddie Munson - was. You didn’t quite hold the same opinions, though, since you’d been playing the game for a few years by then. In fact, you had only recently given it up when the friend you played with moved towns.
It was during one of your free periods when their ranting became a bit annoying to you. You had started correcting and fact-checking them, forgetting that Eddie shared the study hall with you. You never even gave it a thought that he could hear the four of you talking until he stopped you at your locker after that period - the day, luckily, being over.
He wanted to know how you knew so much about the game which is when you admitted you had played. Of course that knowledge completely floored him. 
When he was able to pull himself back together, though, he offered for you to join them at lunch the following day to meet the group and see if you wanted to become their newest member. You agreed, and within the week found yourself a permanent part of hellfire with your own shirt and everything.
It’s been two and a half years since then and you were still a part of the group, happily devoting your Thursday evenings to play the game. Within these past couple years and all the Thursdays you’ve spent in his presence, though, you found yourself falling hard for Eddie.
It’s nearly impossible not to when he’s so charismatic and funny. Not to mention how kind, passionate, and beautiful he is. You’d swear he was a fucking angel, regardless of the image he tries to portray.
“Y/n! Can we sit here with you? Please?” You hear your brother almost beg, catching your attention as your heart starts to race.
You’ve never mentioned to the group that you have a younger brother, especially not a younger brother that also plays D&D. You knew they’d want to be introduced to him, and you fear that he'd slowly come to replace you in the group.
“Who’re these kids?” Eddie questions, hands clasped in front of his face as he looks between you and the three younger boys standing behind you.
“Uh, Dustin, here, is my brother.” You start, nodding towards him as he smiles.
“A-and these are his friends, Mike and Lucas.” 
“A young Henderson…hmm? Tell me, do you guys play?” Eddie asks the three boys, catching them off guard, their mouths opening and closing as they figure out how to answer.
“They do. They’ve been playing for a few years.” You answer for them, motioning for them to just sit down.
“Thank you.” Mike and Lucas mouth, having sat on the same side of the table as you with Dustin.
You sigh, smiling lightly as you nod to them. Of course you don’t want to upset Eddie, but you’re also not going to leave your brother and his friends to fend for themselves.
Wanting to move on, you take a bite of your lunch, hoping that Eddie leaves the topic of the boys joining you alone. Having known him for three years, though, you should know that he can’t.
“You’ve never mentioned having a brother, Henderson.” He comments, and you can practically feel his eyes on you as you stare at your food.
“The topic never really came up.” 
“Not even when I’ve mentioned wanting to find new members?” He lightly smirks, curious as to why you’d keep such a thing secret. 
Surely you realize how great having a brother that plays D&D is? Within the year most of you will be graduating, and he needs someone to pass the dungeon master title on to. Your younger brother and his friends just starting high school couldn’t be a better option.
“Figured you’d find him and his friends soon enough anyways.” you comment, still not looking up to the curly-haired adonis.
“Hmm, well they’ve saved me the work of searching them out by coming over here. Welcome to hellfire, boys.” 
“Wait, you’re just letting them join?” Gareth questions.
“Yeah. You’ve seen Henderson play. If they know her then they’ve got to be good.” Eddie smiles, making your cheeks flush.
“They’re good, but not on my account.” You mumble.
“Nonsense. Still can’t believe you wouldn’t tell us about them before now, though.” 
“How come you haven’t, y/n? I mean, you talk about them all the time.” Dustin asks, before taking a bite of his food. 
At his statement, the rest of the group seem to perk up, curious to know what you say about each of them. 
“I do not. I’ve only mentioned the club a few times.” You huff, feeling your cheeks heat up a bit more.
“Only a few times to mom and I, but I hear you on the phone with your friend talking about them every week.”
“First off, why’re you even listening to me on the phone? Secondly, the only reason I talk about the club is because I’m updating her on my life.” 
“Got a rather boring life then.” Dustin quips and you simply gawk at him, not believing him right now as a few surprised chuckles leave the rest of the boys.
“Shut up and eat, Dustin. No one asked for your input.” 
You watch him shrug before turning to Mike and Lucas while you stick to staring at your food, feeling the group's eyes on you. It’s bad enough you’re the only girl in the group, you didn’t need them to know you talk about them on a weekly basis.
Little do you realize that Eddie can’t help but find himself smiling at this new side of you. He’s been intrigued by you ever since he first heard you correcting your friends back in your freshman year. He couldn’t believe that such a beautiful girl would play the game he loved.
Of course, after watching you play and just spending time with you during lunch, he’s found himself crushing on you, even if you still remained a bit of a mystery to him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you of his feelings, though. Not once in the three years he’s known you.
Hearing that you talk about the club, though, makes his heart race. You really enjoy their company so much that you’d talk about them to a friend? It’s insane to him, and yet it makes him feel giddy. He can’t help but wonder what you’ve said - about the club or about him.
~.~
“Lauren, I’m telling you! For as long as I’ve been a part of the club, my brother joins and suddenly that’s all they care about. They all like my brother and his friends better than me.” You sigh, turning onto your back as you stare at the ceiling.
“I highly doubt that, y/n. I’m sure it’s just that your brother and his friends are still new.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Laur. I mean, it’s not like I really bring anything to the group.”
“Y/n, you’re the only girl.”
“That doesn’t mean anything though.” You almost whine. 
You hate to admit it, but you’ve been feeling left out of the club ever since your brother and his friends joined a few months ago. You had the feeling that this would happen, even though you hoped it wouldn’t.
It’s not like you really bring anything to the group, though, now that you’ve introduced Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to the club. Your character isn’t super powerful or helpful or anything. You’re not the best roller. You’re just there...seemingly wasting space.
“Pretty sure it does. I mean, the way you’ve talked about…what’s his name, Eddie?”
“What about him?”
“The way you’ve talked about him, it sounds like he likes you.”
“No. No, he doesn’t. I’m sure of that. He barely talks to me.” You sigh, rolling over onto your stomach as you bury your head into the pillows.
“Y/n, hon, boys are terrible at talking to the girls they like!” Lauren laughs, and you know she’s shaking her head at you.
“Not Eddie. He usually can’t stop flirting, and yet he doesn’t flirt with me. I don’t even think he’s ever actually called me by my name, Laur. I’m just...Henderson to him.”
“Maybe you make him nervous.”
“Me? Make him nervous? Laur, you’ve lost your mind!” You scoff, knowing you could never make a guy nervous. 
Guys don’t even notice you, for crying out loud. How can you make them nervous?
“I don’t make guys nervous. Guys don’t even notice me, Laur. I’m not you.”
“Okay, now you’re just being down on yourself and I’m not going to have that. If this Eddie guy can’t see how fucking amazing you are, then he just doesn’t deserve you. Alright?”
“Not alright. I want him to like me. Like, a lot.” You pout.
“I’m telling you he does. If I’m wrong then I’ll drive myself down there and let you have free go at me. How’s that?”
“You know I’d never do that to you, but I’m telling you that you’re wrong.”
“Sure, I like him, but I know it’s never going to happen.” You sigh, twirling the cord as you stare at your bedspread, still laying on your stomach.
“What’s never going to happen?” You hear Dustin ask, making you jump and drop the phone.
“Dustin, get out of my room!”
“But it’s time to go! We’re going to be late if we don’t leave, y/n, and I don’t want to upset Eddie by being late.” He rambles, and all you can do is roll your eyes.
“Fine. Go get in the car. I’ll be right down.”
“Don’t forget that we’re picking up Mike and Lucas. And don’t forget your folder!”
“I won’t. Now go.” You groan, rolling back onto your stomach and grabbing the phone.
“I’m sorry, Laur. I’ve got to go.” 
“Time to go see your man, huh?” She teases and you roll your eyes, attempting to fight back a blush.
“He’s not my man. Never will be. I’ll call you later, though, okay?” 
“You better! Love you.”
With a ‘love you’ of your own you hang up the phone and roll off of your bed. Grabbing your backpack and a sweater, you slip your shoes on before grabbing your keys and leaving the room.
You really kind of hope tonight’s game goes by quickly, not wanting to be in Eddie’s presence longer than necessary.
~.~
Eddie can’t help but frown as he watches you tonight. He’s been noticing how you’ve been seeming more and more down, almost seeming to pull into yourself and away from the group this past month.
You’ve been quiet lately, which isn’t terribly out of character for you, but it seems different than normal. You don’t quite have that same brightness to you that Eddie’s come to look forward to each day.
“Henderson, is everything alright?”
At his voice you’re pulled from your thoughts, turning to look at the beautiful, curly-haired man that makes your heart race and palms sweat.
“Mhm. Fine.” You hum, nodding and sending a small smile in his direction.
“You’re sure?”
“Mhm.”
As you hum, you turn your attention back to your clasped hands on the table as you zone back out to Dustin and the rest of the group chattering around you.
“Little Henderson, is something up with your sister?” you hear Eddie question as he turns his attention to your brother. 
“Unbelievable.” You huff, shaking your head and crossing your arms as you slump back in your chair.
“Excuse me?” 
“Nothing. Never mind.” You mumble, staring at the table in front of you as you chew on the inside of your cheek.
All you did was zone out for a moment. You don’t understand why he’d have to ask Dustin what’s wrong when that’s all you did. It’s not like he’s ever actually taken notice of your emotions before to know that something is wrong.
“I think she’s upset about a guy.” Dustin speaks up after a moment and you can’t help but scowl at him, brows furrowed in shocked anger.
“A guy?” Eddie questions, almost seeming surprised.
“Yeah.” 
“It’s not about a guy, Dustin. Maybe try keeping your head out of my business.” You retort, jaw tensing in anger.
“But you were saying something about liking someone and how it’s not going to happen.”
“And I told you to stop listening in on me when I’m on the phone.” 
“Then what’s wrong?” Dustin questions, seeming like he genuinely wants to know which irritates you slightly. Why does he have to be so caring when you’re trying to be angry with him?
“Doesn’t matter.” you state, wanting the conversation to be over.
“Yes, it does.”
“If I wanted to tell you, Dustin, I would. Just leave it.” 
“G-guys, can we…can we get playing again?” You hear Mike stutter out and you let out a deep breath.
“Yeah. Sorry for getting off topic. Let’s play.”
“Are you going to be alright to play?” Eddie questions, looking you over, seemingly studying your body language.
He’s never seen you upset before, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on. It’s not like you to be angry and short with others. Not when he’s always seen you as the happy, upbeat one of the group. 
Could it be a guy like Dustin suggested? Or is it just that you’re not feeling well? Either way he can’t help but want to know.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this going again.” you answer, not bothering to look at anyone but rather as the table and your hands. 
“Henderson-“ Eddie starts, but you quickly cut him off, taking him by surprise at the sheer frustration coming from you.
“Do you not want me playing right now? I said I’ll be fine. Believe me, will you?” 
“Alright. Where were we?”
You let out a breath as you all slowly get back to the game, although you can feel the tenseness of the air still lingering. Attempting to ignore it, you force yourself to focus on what Eddie and everyone else is saying, hoping to god the campaign isn’t much longer.
~.~
Taking your seat at the lunch table, you feel Gareth and Jeff’s eyes on you. It’s like they’re not sure how to talk to you, almost afraid that you’re still as touchy as you were last night during the game.
“I’m not going to bite your heads off, you know.” You comment, not bothering to look up at them as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.
“You’re sure?” Gareth questions, eyes wider than normal as he still seems cautious.
“Mhm. I just wasn’t feeling great last night.”
“Okay. You’ve just…never been like this.” He states and you know he’s not wrong. Ever since you first joined the club you’ve been quiet and almost demure, not wanting to create any issues. 
You shrug, acknowledging his statement, but leave it unanswered. There’s not really anything to say to that. Not when the entire reason for your irritation is kind of embarrassing and childish.
The two of them don’t seem to mind though, going back to talking amongst themselves as you eat in silence, waiting for everyone else to join the table.
It’s not like anything really changes once everyone is there. They all chat amongst themselves while you keep to yourself, only giving short replies when talked to. You simply eat in silence as you let yourself fall into your thoughts, not wanting to make the atmosphere tense like you had last night.
No one seems to mind, though. At least you don’t think they do. Not until Eddie slides into the empty desk next to yours in your shared study hall at the end of the day.
“Hey, Henderson.” He greets, voice lowered so as to not get yelled at by the teacher or to potentially get on your bad side.
“Hey.” 
“What’s…what’s going on lately?”
“What do y’mean?”
“You’ve been quieter than usual. Not as happy either.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about Eddie.” You mumble, not wanting to share what’s been going on.
“No? See, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Something’s bothering you.” 
“So what if there is? I’m not telling you unless I want to.” 
At your reply, Eddie simply sighs, and you can’t help but feel a little rude. It’s not like he’s done anything, it’s just your stupid thoughts and feelings getting in the way.
“Alright then. I’m not going to push for an answer. I just...I need to know that whatever it is won’t be interfering with the campaign.” 
“It won’t be. Not from here on out.”
“Here on out?”
“I’m quitting the club. Been thinking about it for a while now.” You admit, watching his face fall at your words.
“Henderson-“
“It’s y/n, Eddie.“
As the words leave your lips, the bell rings to signal that the day is finally over. Without hesitating a second, you’re up from your seat and walking away, leaving Eddie confused and scrambling to catch up to you.
“Y/n?” He calls, chasing you from the classroom and towards the doors, not caring that he needed to stop at his locker.
You see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike waiting by the trash can at the edge of the parking lot, and you sigh. You really can’t wait to get home.
“Y/n?! What’s brought this on? Why do you wanna leave the club?” Eddie calls as he continues to follow you towards the parking lot.
“You’re leaving hellfire?” Dustin questions, him and the other two boys having heard Eddie.
“Just get in the car, Dustin.”
“But you’re leaving hellfire?! You can’t just do that!” 
“Exactly! Why’re you trying to leave?” Eddie questions, panting lightly as he finally catches up to you at your car.
“I’m not trying to leave, Eddie. I am leaving. I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Sorry.”
“No. You can’t just leave. We haven’t finished the campaign yet.”
“You’ll figure out how to continue it without me, I’m sure.”
Of course he’d just be upset about the game getting messed up and not about you actually leaving. Why would he care when he���s still got Little Henderson there? 
“I’ll return my shirt next week.” You state, moving to get into the car.
“Th-that’s not necessary. Hold onto the shirt. Keep it for memory’s sake, I mean.”
“If that’s what you want.” 
Eddie nods, watching you, seeming as if he wants to say something else but he can’t bring himself to.
“Is that everything?” You question, wanting nothing more than to leave.
“Yeah...Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you around?” 
“Yeah. See you around. Come on now, Dustin.”
“You two need rides?” You question Mike and Lucas, almost seeming to ignore Eddie as you get in the car. They shake their heads and you nod, closing your door as you wait for Dustin to do the same.
Soon as he does, you’re putting the car in reverse and backing out as you had already started it. You really didn’t want to be there any longer than you already had been.
As you pull out of the parking lot, though, you can feel Dustin wanting to ask questions, but he seems scared to anger you, so he stays quiet. His questions simply swirling around his head, instead.
~.~
“Wait, you did what now?!” Lauren questions, almost screaming into the receiver.
“I quit the club. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.”
“But you enjoyed it.”
“I enjoyed it when I hadn’t been shoved to the background. I enjoyed it when I actually felt like a part of the club.” 
“So talk to them? You don’t just quit something because it stopped being fun.”
“I think that’s precisely what you do when a club stops being fun, Laur. Besides, it’s not like they miss me.” You huff, pulling your feet towards your body as you lay on your stomach, softly kicking them in the air.
It’s been just about a month since you quit the club, and while it saddens you a little, you’ve also felt the tiniest bit of relief. You don’t have to try so hard to keep your crush on Eddie hidden anymore. You don’t have to spend every lunch period listening to the guys talk about whatever it is they do while you sit to the side. You don’t have to feel like the outcast in the group of outcasts. 
Sure you miss playing the game, but it’s not the end of the world. You’ve found other things to keep yourself preoccupied. Mostly just listening to music and doing your homework, but you’ve found yourself picking up art as a hobby as the days dragged on, slowly starting to fill and old sketchbook you’ve had lying around.
~.~
“It’s still so weird that y/n isn’t here.” Gareth comments as the boys watch you sit at a different table once again. They don’t know why, but they keep hoping this has just been some kind of nightmare and that any day you’ll actually sit back down with them. It just doesn’t make sense why you’d leave them all so abruptly. 
“Yeah. It is.” Jeff agrees, sighing as they see a smile form on your face with a laugh falling out right after. It’s been way too long since any of them have seen you like this, and it kind of hurts.
“She still wears her shirt a lot.” Dustin informs, looking at the older boys - Eddie included - as they watch you.
“She does?” Eddie questions, the bit of knowledge somehow lifting him up a little.
He hated hearing you say you were quitting, and he hated it even more when Monday came around the week after and you didn’t sit with them. Nearly three years you had sat by his side and suddenly you weren’t there anymore. It felt beyond wrong, but he didn’t know what to do to fix it, if there even was anything that he could do.
“Yeah. She seems to wear it all the time now. I’m honestly not sure when the last time was that she didn’t wear it.”
Eddie nods, smiling lightly at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if there’s anything different he could have done to keep you from leaving. Was it something he had said? Or done? Was it just him?
“She’s been acting weird since she left. I heard her on the phone the other day-“
“You really should stop that, Dustin.” Eddie pipes up, but the younger boy doesn’t seem to hear.
“She said something about how she couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine after mentioning to her friend that she quit.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never known her to pretend about anything. I don’t know what she was talking about.”
“Because then she said something about enjoying the club when she felt like a part of it? She’s always been a part of it though.” Dustin continues, frowning as he eats his food.
He may not understand what you were talking about, but Eddie has a sinking feeling that he does. He really hopes he’s wrong though. 
He doesn’t want to admit that he was giving your brother and his friends more attention than he’s ever really gave you. It’s not that they’re better than you in any way, honestly. It’s just that they’re boys. 
He’s always hesitated in giving you attention during meetings or at lunch, because he didn’t want anyone to catch onto the crush he has on you. He was afraid that if Gareth or Jeff knew he liked you, that it’d make the atmosphere awkward. 
Even by keeping you at a distance, though, the two guys picked up on Eddie’s crush. It’s not in his character to be quiet or reserved in the slightest, so when they noticed how he constrained himself in conversation with you, they knew something was up.
Still, Eddie could never allow himself to act the same way with you like he does with Gareth and Jeff, and now your brother and his friends. He wanted you to like him, so he kept himself from being sarcastic and outspoken with you. Hearing Dustin talk though, Eddie has the suspicion that his plan may have backfired.
“Your sister still picks you up from the meetings, doesn’t she?” Eddie questions, already planning out what he wants to say to you when he can get you aside for a moment.
“No. Nancy’s been dropping me off or I’ve just been riding my bike.” 
“I’ll be driving you home tonight then.” 
“O-okay?!”
Eddie chuckles lightly at Dustin’s excitement, but he never takes his eyes off of you across the cafeteria. He needs to talk to you, and he’s hoping that tonight he can do just that.
~.~
“You know it ain’t easy, running out of thrills. You know it ain’t easy when you don’t know what you want.” 
You hum, laying on your bed as you listen to the drums, guitar, and vocals of Europe fill your room.
“What do you want?” You question, mirroring the song, your foot tapping against your bedspread as you close your eyes.
“Woah-oh-oh, you want to rock now, rock the night, ‘til early in the morning light. Rock now, rock the night.”
“Woah-oh, woah-oh, yeah!” You sing, smiling lightly. 
It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to just relax and enjoy listening to your music without worrying about homework or being late to hellfire. One of the plus sides of quitting the club - you finally get time just for yourself.
Hearing a knock on your door, you hum loud enough to acknowledge whoever is at the door.
“y/n? You’ve got a visitor.” Dustin calls, gently opening your door.
“Who?” You question, sitting up on your bed, nodding as Eddie comes into view behind Dustin.
“Oh…hi.”
“Hi. I-is it alright if I come in?” He questions, pausing in your doorway.
“Yeah, I guess so.” 
As he makes his way inside, you situate yourself in your bed so you’re comfortably sitting up.
“Do you…” 
At Eddie’s voice, you look up to see him questioning you about your door, going to close it before swinging it open.
“You can close it if you want. I don’t care.” 
He nods, softly shoving the door to close it, not quite giving it enough force to close all the way so there’s a little crack left open.
“So what’re you doing here?” You question him, watching him as he looks around, seeming a bit out of place with your soft white walls and contradicting decor.
While he may fit into the plethora of rock band posters covering your walls and the many records and cassettes you’ve got laying around, he doesn’t fit in with the florals and stuffed animals you’ve got elsewhere in your room.
“I, uh, I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what?”
You can’t help but chuckle as he spots the bralette hanging out of your dresser, you having been too lazy to tuck it back in earlier, and seems to pale in horror. For seeming so confident and cocky, he sure doesn’t look it being in a girl’s room.
“You can sit, you know.” You offer, motioning to the chair you’ve got in the corner of your room.
“Yeah, okay.” He mumbles, taking a few steps over towards the chair before sitting on the edge of the seat.
You watch as he takes in your room, fidgeting with his hands and rings as he does so. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous to be here.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Uh, well, w-we really miss you being in the club. G-gareth, Jeff, and I. I mean, s-so do the younger ones, but…”
“But you three miss me more?” You question, eyebrow cocking in disbelief.
“Well, yeah…yeah.”
“Okay.” You deadpan, not sure what he wants in reply to that. It’s nice to hear that they miss you, but it doesn’t really change anything.
A brief moment passes where you watch Eddie, waiting for him to say something else. Taking in his mannerisms and body language, you can’t remember a time when Eddie’s ever looked so nervous and unsure of himself.
“D-dustin was saying you felt left out? Of the club?” Eddie clarifies, drawing up just enough courage to look at you.
“He was listening to me on the phone again, wasn’t he?” 
“Y-yeah. I tried telling him to stop, but I don’t think he heard me.” he sighs, chuckling lightly in nerves as you shake your head.
“I don’t think he’ll ever stop, if I’m honest. He’ll be traumatized one day or another I’m sure.” You laugh, shaking your head at the thought as you smile.
“It’s true though? You…you felt left out?”
“Yeah. It’s dumb, I know, but you guys took so easily to Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”
“I get it, they’re great kids, and they play D&D…but it’s like they didn’t even have to try to fit into the group.” You sigh, knowing it’s about time you share at least part of the problem.
“No. No, it’s not dumb. I’m sorry we made you - I made you - feel that way.” Eddie sighs, catching your line of sight in his, wanting you to realize how sincere he’s being.
He never wanted to make you feel left out, it’s just his stupid feelings that got in the way.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways.” 
“It does matter, though. We’d - I’d - really like you to join the group again. It’s not the same without you there, y/n.”
“I’m sorry. I just, I really don’t think joining again would be good, though.” You admit, knowing that if you joined again you’d still just be upset that nothing will ever come from your crush on him.
“How come? I-is there something else that’s been bothering you about the club? I want you to feel welcome.”
“No. No, It’s nothing about the club, Eddie. There’s just a lot of things going on personally that’d make it hard.”
“That guy issue?”
“What?”
“Is it anything to do with that guy issue Dustin mentioned?” Eddie questions, and you can’t help but gawk at him.
“Does he not like you playing or something?”
“What? No.” you answer, shaking your head incredulously, wondering how Eddie got it into his head that you’d ever be wanted by someone. Has he never actually watched how other guys interact with you?
“Then what is it? Why won’t you come back to the club?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just...can’t. It’s better if I let you guys enjoy it yourselves.”
“It’s not better, though. We all want you back, y/n.”
“I’m sorry.” You sigh, not knowing what else you can say. 
A moment passes where neither of you say anything and you start to think that maybe you’re done talking. Before you can say anything of the sort though, Eddie’s asking a question.
“Tell me, is there anything I can do? Anything that would make you want to come back?”
“No…no, there’s nothing you could do, eddie, I promise y-“
“There must be.” He argues, wanting nothing more than to find something he can do to get you to come back. 
He misses you more than he thought possible, and he just needs there to be something - anything - he can do.
“There’s not, though.”
“How come?”
“What?”
“How come there’s nothing I can do? Are you just that dead set on not coming back? Even though we all miss you?”
“If I could, trust me that I would join the group again. I just, I can’t right now, Eddie. I’m sor-“
“Why can’t you?”
“Because…because of you.” You sigh, fed up with him pushing for an answer.
“Me?”
“You, Eddie. I can’t come back because of you. Because if I did then I’d just get all upset again because my heart is dumb and doesn’t know how to listen.” 
“What do you mean?”
You sigh, taking a deep breath as you look at him. You can’t seriously be getting ready to tell him this, but you are. You don’t see any other option right now.
“I like you, Eddie.” You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers.
“I like you, but you don’t like me. I mean, it’s obvious between you never talking to me or looking at me and how you’ve always called me Hender-“
You gasp, moaning lightly as you get cut off by a pair of lips on yours. Eddie was kissing you to shut you up.
At the realization you can’t help but panic, not understanding why he’d do this when he doesn’t like you. 
“Eddie!” 
“Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just, you were rambling and saying I didn’t like you but I do! I do. I like y-“
It’s his turn to gasp and groan into the kiss as you pull him to your lips, one hand tightly grasped in the front of his shirt while the other drapes around his shoulders, holding him close to you.
As he realizes what’s happening, he relaxes into the kiss, his one hand coming up to caress your cheek as the other holds himself up on the bed.
It’s not until you’re both out of breath and gasping for air do you actually pull away from each other, your hand relaxing against his chest as he lowers his from your cheek.
“Woah.” He sighs, trying to catch his breath as he chuckles lightly, studying your face.
“Yeah.” You murmur, ghosting your fingers over your lips as if trying to remember if that actually just happened.
“Uhm, so I like you. If-if that wasn’t obvious.” He stutters and you chuckle, smiling at the curly-haired dork.
“I like you too.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you away. Made you feel left out when I was just too nervous to admit I liked you.”
“I’m sorry I got all moody and quit the club because I was jealous of my brother instead of just telling you how I felt.”
“So…does this mean you’ll come back?” He asks, hopeful, as he kneels in front of you.
“You’ll stop treating me differently?”
“Mhm. Trust me when I say there’ll be no pushing you away after that.” 
“Mm. Don’t be treating me specially either just because we kissed.” you lightly chuckle, cocking a brow as you chew on your lip to hold back the smile wanting to light up your face.
“Can I treat you differently if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” he questions, a wide, goofy smile filling his face as he looks at you.
A smile grows on your face at his sheer happiness, drawing a light chuckle from you as you reply to his question.
“Not during game play. We don’t wanna be unfair to the guys, do we?”
“Mm, you’re right. If I promise to not treat you specially during gameplay then will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, really wanting to hear you say yes. He’s only liked you for nearly three years, frequently imagining you as his girlfriend the entire time.
“I would really love for you to be my girlfriend, and I your boyfriend. It just. It sounds really nice.” 
“You ramble a lot. You know that?” You giggle, tucking some hair behind his ear as a blush dusts over his cheeks.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Sometimes.” You smile, biting your lip to keep from kissing him again.
“So…?”
“If you promise not to treat me specially during the game, then I’d love to be your girlfriend, Eddie.”
“Yeah?” He questions, as if he doesn’t believe that you’d agree.
“Yeah.”
With the word out of your mouth, his lips find yours again, pulling a chuckle from your body as he slowly lowers himself on top of you, pinning you against your mattress as he kisses you, one hand cupping your cheek as the other rests on your waist.
“Did you-ew!” You hear Dustin call from your doorway, fake gagging as he sees Eddie on top of you, effectively startling the man back into kneeling at the end of your bed.
“Did we what, dustin?” You ask, leaning around Eddie’s body to look at your brother still standing at your doorway, one hand plastered over his eyes.
“I wanted to see if you two had figured things out, but it seems like you did.”
“Yeah, we did, little henderson. Your sister is coming back to the club.” Eddie shares, smiling at you as he situates himself on the bed beside you, Dustin uncovering his eyes in excitement at the exact same time.
“Can you please get off of my sister?” he begs, shielding his eyes again as eddie places a soft kiss to your lips in his own happiness of you coming back to the club.
“But I like being close to my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?! You’re dating my sister?!” Dustin exclaims, a look of pure shock and disgust on his face.
“Is there a problem with it, Dustin?” You question, watching your brother almost seeming to pout.
“I guess not. Just…don’t be gross when I’m around. Please?”
“We’ll try not to be.” Eddie states, smiling at you as Dustin nods, giving a small okay before leaving the two of you alone.
As the door closes, Eddie’s looking back at you, both of you chuckling.
“Guess you were right in saying he’d be traumatized one day.” He chuckles, leaning down to give you another kiss, never realizing just how amazing it’d feel to have your lips on his.
You can’t help but smile into it, enjoying the feel of his body on yours. You’ve only been imaging this moment for nearly four years. You’ve got to say that nothing you imagined could ever live up to the reality, though. Kissing Eddie is like a little slice of heaven, you swear.
It certainly took you long enough to get here, but now that you’re here, you don’t ever want to go back.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
Note
Hi Hal!
Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊
I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.
If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.
As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!
Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!
Lengths Of Love
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PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.
WORDCOUNT: 10.7k
WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.
A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 
“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 
Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 
“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.
Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 
“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 
“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.
Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 
You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.
But such was life. 
All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.
“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 
The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 
“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”
You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 
You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.
You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”
Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 
Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.
“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.
“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 
“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.
Later.
“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 
You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.
As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 
“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 
There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.
Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”
Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 
“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”
A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”
You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.
“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 
“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”
Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room
“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 
“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.
There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 
“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 
As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.
“Be safe.” 
That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 
Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 
The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 
“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 
“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 
“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 
There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”
You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.
“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 
There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”
If we get back.
You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”
“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”
Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 
Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.
When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 
“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 
The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.
“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 
You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.
“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 
“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.
Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 
“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”
Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.
“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.
Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”
You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 
The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 
“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”
“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 
Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 
You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.
“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”
Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.
“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 
Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.
“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 
Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.
“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 
Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”
He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.
“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”
It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 
Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 
The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”
“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.
“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”
“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 
“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 
You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 
You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 
“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 
You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 
For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.
“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”
“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 
Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 
The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.
But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.
Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 
“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 
Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 
When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 
There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 
But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.
You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 
Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.
Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.
Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.
“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 
Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.
You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 
Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.
“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”
You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 
You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.
Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 
You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.
The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.
You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 
At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 
“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”
You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 
“Merrick, do you copy?”
“Copy, Hesh.”
“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.
Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.
Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”
You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”
He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.
“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 
Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.
You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?
You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 
Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.
Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.
So now he pays attention.
“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 
Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 
The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 
The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 
There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 
Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 
The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.
“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.
“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 
Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 
“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.
Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 
“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 
“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”
“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”
His mind was dead to all else.
You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.
“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”
“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”
“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”
“Checkmate!”
“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 
“I���m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 
There’s no time to think.
“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”
Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.
“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 
He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 
As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.
“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”
“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.
The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 
“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 
Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 
A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.
“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”
You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.
“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”
“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 
Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 
Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 
“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”
“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 
Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.
You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.
And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?
“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”
“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.
“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 
Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 
Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 
“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”
Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.
“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 
“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 
Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.
“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 
Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 
“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 
Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 
“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 
“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.
“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 
“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.
“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”
Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.
When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 
“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”
Your face voids of blood. 
Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 
He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.
“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”
Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 
“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”
“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 
“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”
“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 
Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.
“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 
“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 
Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 
Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 
Move!
Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 
“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 
“Harp!”
“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 
The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 
He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 
“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 
“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 
You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 
But he can’t move.
“Harp!” 
And you can’t feel your fingers. 
“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 
And Rorke chuckles.
You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 
What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 
You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 
In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 
You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 
Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 
You can’t break—not like Rorke. 
No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.
Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 
...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.
You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.
But it’s easier said than done.
In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 
The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 
“Where do we inject….”
“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”
“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”
Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 
A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 
When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 
Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 
“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 
You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 
Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 
Your wounds blazed.
You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.
Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.
They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 
But Hesh. Hesh.
He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.
“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.
You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.
Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.
“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.
Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”
“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”
“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”
“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 
What was he doing to you?
“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.
“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”
It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.
You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 
Breathing is becoming a chore.
“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 
“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 
You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.
Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 
This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.
There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.
 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”
Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 
There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 
“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 
Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.
Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 
Keegan? 
“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 
The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 
In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 
The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 
The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.
“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 
There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”
“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 
“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.
“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 
“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 
Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 
“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 
Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 
“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 
Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 
“Christ,” he hisses. 
You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 
Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 
He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 
Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 
Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 
“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 
The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.
Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 
“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 
Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 
Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 
All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 
“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”
You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 
The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.
Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”
“Hesh!” 
You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 
“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.
Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 
“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”
“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 
“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”
“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”
It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 
Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.
Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 
But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.
You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 
Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 
He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 
Two months. 
Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 
When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 
He’d denied all of them. 
If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 
More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.
In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 
He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 
Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 
His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.
He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 
You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.
They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.
Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.
Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.
“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.
Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 
“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 
Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.
“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 
Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.
“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 
It’s a moment before he answers you. 
“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 
Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 
Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.
But you were still scared. 
“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 
Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 
What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?
Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 
“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”
But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.
“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 
“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 
“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 
In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 
You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.
Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 
You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 
But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 
Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 
Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 
Home. 
You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.
But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.
“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 
You push yourself into him tighter. 
Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 
And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 
The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.
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TAGS:
@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast
656 notes · View notes
orobaxis · 1 year
Note
Hiii! I loved your last Ominis X reader fic so much 😍 I really hope you write more!! I have a few prompts I’d love to read but feel free to pick and choose any ones you like because I’ll take any Ominis content you give 🥰
- Reader gets hurt and has to go to the hospital wing. Ominis is super worried and spends as much time as he can with them.
- Reader falls asleep on Ominis’ shoulder (or vice versa)
- Ominis getting bad dating/flirting advice from Sebastian to use on reader. Queue a facepalm from Anne and a very confused reader
- Reader comforts Ominis after he receives a particularly bad howler from his parents
- Ominis and reader each trying to build up the courage to initiate their first kiss.
these are all so sweet oml!! ! happy valentine's day everyone! thank you for all the love! <3
valentine's day chaos
ominis gaunt x reader (hogwarts legacy)
word count: 1200
prompts:
-Ominis getting bad dating/flirting advice from Sebastian to use on reader
-Reader gets hurt and has to go to the hospital wing
-Reader falls asleep on Ominis’ shoulder
and another ask: Loved your Ominis story! More pleaseee! Maybe from the prompt list: “are you really so oblivious?” I feel like that’s so very Ominis to say haha!
beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!
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ominis was doomed the moment he started to ask sebastian
unfortunately for him, he doesn't really trust anyone else for this super secret task he has appointed himself, and who else would he ask if not for his best mate sebastian? (literally anyone else)
"you want to ask y/n out on a date, do you?"
ominis tries to hide his shock, "what makes you say that?"
sebastian shrugs matter-of-factly, "well, it's valentine's day, and you've been talking about y/n all day today"
they both turn their heads to the sounds of y/n and anne laughing as they play summoner's court
"i have an idea on how you can woo y/n," sebastian suggests, and he basically sees ominis' ears twitch in interest
"well?" ominis starts, almost irritated, as he waits for sebastian, "what is it?"
sebastian smirks, "i know she will appreciate this and you will successfully woo y/n. women love grand gestures of love, y'know."
cut to charms class, all four of you are (kind of) listening to professor ronen talk about some softening charm when
BAM! the door burst open
you crane your head to see...
dwarves
three of them, wearing golden wings and carrying harps, making them resemble cupids...if not for the scowls on their faces
it may as well be goblins from the way they scowl and look around the room
you and anne exchange curious looks, wondering if professor ronen has somehow hired these dwarves, but judging from the curious look on his face as well, you doubt it
you miss sebastian elbowing ominis, an excited look on his face, and whispering, "here they are"
"y/n l/n?" one gruff dwarf calls out
you shrink next to anne, unsure of what the dwarf wants, but you have a sense that it wasn't good
professor ronen, bless him, is very confused, "um... excuse me?"
"are you y/n?"
"err, no...but--"
"y/n l/n?!" all three dwarves shout
anne pipes up, "here! she's here!" raising her hand to point at you
you try to glare at her, curious and anxious about the dwarves
one dwarf tosses you what appears to be a box of chocolates, which you almost drop, while another one clears his throat before reciting in a gruff voice
"y/n l/n, the sound of your laugh
is like my calming draught
i wish we would hug
you are a beauty and me, a lousy dugbog"
"dugbog??" ominis hisses at sebastian, who looks proud of his creation
everyone in the classroom giggles as the three dwarves try to do a pirouette and then vanish
"oh y/n," anne exclaims, "that was so..."
"sweet?" sebastian suggests
"embarrassing!" anne retorts with a laugh. behind her, you dont notice ominis turning pale (paler than he usually is already) before sending a mean elbow into sebastian's stomach (a hex too)
as the class tries to transition back to class, you see looks on their faces, excited to see what is inside the box
you open it and you see a chocolate frog
"oh," you sigh, relieved, before smiling, "this isn't so bad."
when you bite into it however, you feel your stomach turn
professor ronen and anne must have noticed how green you looked as the professor quickly produces a bag in front of you
you proceed to empty the contents of your stomach into the bag
anne frowns at this, "it's a vomiting valentine! it's a nasty thing you usually send to someone who broke your heart on valentine's day!"
"quickly, miss sallow," professor ronen instructs, "please take her to the hospital wing!"
this time, it was sebastian's turn--appearing greener than a frog.
"sallow, what have you done?" ominis hisses, "i thought you said this would work!"
"the dwarves worked, didn't they? they must have picked up a different package, she wasn't supposed to get the vomiting valentine!"
"you oaf!" the gaunt boy huffs as he and sebastian follow you and anne out of the classroom and to the hospital wing, ignoring professor ronen's shouts
-
thankfully, nurse blainey is able to solve your...valentine's malady
ominis, however, is so consumed by guilt, and in his head he just keeps regretting having asked sebastian for help
so when he and seb find you recovering in the hospital wing, he's relieved
and he decides that this should be the time to apologize
"some valentine's, huh?" you smile at them
in seb's quest to ask for ominis' forgiveness, he manages to drag his sister away from the hospital wing
you smile at them and wave, before turning to ominis, who looks stiff as a board, "ominis, are you alright?"
his voice is hard, "you got hurt."
you gesture to yourself, "this? oh it was nothing," you wave your hand to dismiss it
"no," he replies, "you got hurt...because of m- some stupid, stupid valentine's day prank. and you got embarrassed by those dwarves too."
you can see how much this is affecting ominis, so you try to reach for him, settling for his hand
you pull him closer to you, telling him to sit beside you on the bed, "i'll move over, sit here with me"
ominis hums, and sits beside you
"it's all sebastian's fault"
you turn your head to look at him, confused, "seb?"
"yes, he ordered those dwarves...they must have switched the package with the vomiting valentine"
hearing this from ominis kind of deflates you, and you unconsciously turn away from him
"oh...sebastian did those for me? does he...like me?"
ominis gapes in shock, eyebrows raising, "no! i mean...yes, he did all those...but he doesn't like you! he doesn't hate you either...i just meant--"
he sighs, "i asked him for help on what to give you for valentine's day...so this was all his idea. i thought...you'd like these grand gestures and--"
"wait," you perk up, smiling. ominis can hear the joy in your voice, "you...like me?"
now it's ominis' turn to look in your direction, head tilting in curiosity, "yes, of course. are you really so oblivious?"
you laugh, in shock, in relief, as you clutch his hand happily. "i guess i am. but even with the dwarves and the vomiting valentine, this day is still good."
"what makes you say that?"
you blush, mustering the courage to lean in and rest your head on his shoulder. he smells good, feels warm, safe. "well, because i just found out the person i like likes me back."
ominis hums happily at that, visibly relaxing.
you two don't say anything else, but you quietly relish in each other, his hands wrapped around yours
and slowly, he rests his head on top of yours, feeling your breathing becoming even
and ominis closes his eyes, taking in your scent, thinking, "yes, perhaps today wasn't so bad after all."
the twins come to check on you two in a while, and sebastian sighs in relief when they see you two resting, with your head on ominis' shoulder and his head resting on top of yours.
all's well that ends well
until...
"you won't be getting away with this, sebastian," ominis calls out.
1K notes · View notes
nicksbestie · 3 months
Note
Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him
Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3
Hallway Crush
word count : 1909
no warnings!
pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader
enjoy! <3
School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 
He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 
Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 
He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 
He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.
The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.
It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 
He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 
And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 
As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 
“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 
Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 
“May I?” 
You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 
“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 
You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 
“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 
He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 
“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 
You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.
“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 
You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 
“What exactly are you asking for?” 
He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 
“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 
His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 
“You can’t just say things like that.” 
You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 
“Why not?” 
He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 
“You just can’t.” 
The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.
“Can I kiss you instead?” 
He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 
“Yes. That you can do.”
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nataliasquote · 3 months
Text
Masterlist
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Welcome to my masterlist! Alongside my work on Wattpad and AO3, you can find all my mini series and oneshots linked down below. I usually only write for Natasha Romanoff and occasionally Yelena Belova, but feel free to send in any requests. But no smut, I’m not comfortable with that :)
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Natasha Romanoff | Series
[F = fluff, A = angst, H = hot af ]
⧗ Double the Trouble AU | WandaNat x daughter: [F] Natasha and Wanda have their work cut out raising twin girls. But despite the struggles and the arguments, there is nothing that would break the bond this family has created
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
Canon oneshots:
A Day Out: [F] summer and sunshine calls for family trips out. To the zoo, naturally[2.9k words]
Groceries: [F] Natasha volunteers to do the weekly shop. Mundane, perhaps, but with two babies, things are never smooth sailing [1.4k words]
Cuddles: [F] a tipsy Y/n only wants one thing when she comes home from a party- Natasha’s hugs. And who is Natasha to refuse cuddles from her teenagers? [800 words]
New Families: [F] Natasha was content keeping her little family to herself. But Yelena and Melina weren’t. Which is how the family of four find themselves in Ohio, resurfacing memories for Natasha and challenging the three year olds in a whole new environment. Isla loves it, Y/n… not so much [4.4k words]
⧗ My Songbird AU | Natasha x Willow (O!C): It’s the 70s. Final summer of high school. Why not spend it getting high, partying and sneaking off with your girlfriend in a town that is so disapproving of anything deviating from the norm.
Mood board | part 1 [F]
⧗ Back in Time | Winterwidow x daughter: Natasha and Bucky’s daughter seeks comfort in her Aunt Wanda as her parents go missing on a mission. She doesn’t ask for much, she only wants to see them again.
part 1 [F] | part 2 [A]
Natasha Romanoff | Oneshots
⧗ Promises: [A] Natasha and Anastasia didn’t know love… not until they found it in each other. But the Red Room was cold, in more ways than one [2.6k words]
⧗ Ghost of You: [F + A] Learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world [3.2k words]
⧗ Lost in the Fire | f1 AU: [A] A horrific crash tests Natasha’s nerves to the limit as she has no choice but to sit back and watch from the garage. Her girlfriend and her sister push themselves for that all important win. [4.5k words]
⧗ I Will Rescue You | natasha romanoff x adopted daughter reader: [F + A] An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected… [3.7k words]
⧗ Can’t You See This is Breaking Me: [A] Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves [5.2k words]
⧗ Tattoos For Troubled Minds: [F] Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake [3.6k words]
⧗ Midnight: [A] Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable [1.1k words]
⧗ I Know What You Are: [A] The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily. [5.9k words]
⧗ Mustang | cowgirl Nat AU: [H] The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind? [4.3k words]
⧗ Is It All For Nothing?: [A] You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong? [1.3k words]
⧗ Midas Touch | Maid!Natasha: [F + A] no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about. [7.1k words]
⧗ Welcome To My Head At Midnight | song fic: [A] Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win. [2k words]
Yelena Belova | Oneshots
⧗ For Her: [F + A] Yelena tries to find the balance between spending christmas with her girl and tracking down Clint Barton… [1.7k words]
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jamie-leah · 3 months
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Lifeline
Bucky x Reader Fic
Oneshot? Series? You tell me...
Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.
Word Count: 1,809
Warnings: Mentions of physical abusive, Abusive relationship, descriptions of panic attack, rusty writing, fluff
A/N: Thought I would dip my toe back in the water, see how you're all doing? Feel free to tell me if you want more and feel free to make requests. I need to get back into the swing of things!
Next Part--->
Masterlist of Masterlists
It’s been two months, and he still hasn’t found you yet. Despite the nightmares and the hypervigilance, you would call that a win. It’s the longest he’s gone without finding you. Maybe he’s given up? But deep down you know that isn’t the case. You humiliated him when you ran, left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. There would be questions from the neighbours, friends and family. He would never let a slight like that go, and you know it.  
The bell dings above the door in the diner you’ve been working at since you arrived in New York. It brings you out of your head and into the present, to see Bucky walk through the door. You hadn’t realised that it was that time in your shift, looking over to the clock to confirm that it was in fact nine at night.  
You give him a smile. A small one, but the most genuine you’ve been able to manage since running from your ex almost a year ago now. He returns a full watt smile of his own. A smile you never see him give to anyone else, but you don’t look too deeply into that considering you’ve never seen him outside of this diner.  
He sits at the bar upfront to the counter where you already have his black coffee waiting, “you fancy any food? Kitchen is closing soon”, you ask.  
“I’ll take a plate of fries if there’s any going?”, his voice sending a tiny shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl ever so slightly. You are aware of this growing attraction you have to him since he started to come in here regularly a week after you started. And you hadn’t thought about anyone like that since...well since you started your relationship with Andrew around seven years ago.  
Bucky never said much the first few times he came in. He would just nurse a few cups of coffee at night and then leave but after two weeks like that he caught you on a particularly rough day. You were in the middle of a panic attack when he jumped into action and calmed you down and stared anyone down who might have looked or said anything.  
Since then, the damn broke and while you may have not told him about your ex, you both shared some personal titbits that would probably qualify you as friends rather than acquaintances. And ever since that time you told him you hadn’t had time for a break or a bite to eat, he orders fries and makes you share with him. He feigns that the portions are too big, and he needs your help to finish them off, but you know better. You don’t say otherwise, you’re grateful either way.  
When you place the fries in front of him, he asks, “busy tonight?”  
You shake your head as you pop a fry into your mouth, “not really. It’s always quiet on a Tuesday. How was your day? Save anyone today?”  
Bucky rolls his eyes at you. You had no idea who he was when he first came in. And Bucky still had to spell out who he was and why people stared at him in the diner. You were vaguely aware of superheroes, but Andrew kept you rather sheltered so you never knew who they were or the politics of them all.  
Bucky grabs the ketchup and squirts some on your side of the plate and some on his, “no missions today. You know I’m gone for a while when I am.”  
You sigh, because yes you do know he’s gone for a while when he has missions and its usually the longest days or sometimes weeks without him coming in every day.  
You shrug, “I don’t know, there was that time you saved someone from a car explosion on your way here.”  
You smirk as he groans at the mention of his heroics, “that was one time! I can’t believe that even showed on the news.”  
You throw a fry at his face, “I can’t believe I had to find out from the news! You didn’t say a word the entire time you sat here.”  
You laugh as you see a familiar blush creep up from his neck and blooms on his sharp cheeks, “I didn’t think it was a big deal”, he mumbles out.  
Someone walks in through the door, the familiar bell ringing. You walk from behind the counter as they take a seat at a booth. You squeeze Bucky’s shoulder as you pass by and murmur, “everything you do is a big deal to me.”  
You don’t wait for his reply or even a reaction as you head over to the couple talking quietly. You take their order and head over to the back and shout through to Kevin, “hey Kev, you got time for one more food order?”  
He pokes his head from the back, “sure thing”  
You pass him the slip and turn back to Bucky about to say something when a smash comes from the kitchen. You duck. No time to think, your body reacts on instinct, preparing for the worst while try to dodge the inevitable violence that is always directed at you.  
You stay crouched on the floor frozen in place, trapped in your mind at a time when you burned dinner for Andrew, and he threw places and cups all around the kitchen. Curled up on the floor, arms over your head trying to stop any shards from catching your face. You had to pick a few from your arms when he finally calmed down and left to go to the bar.  
Warm hands reach out to hold your face steady. You didn’t know your body was shaking until those hands held your face. So gentle in their touch you know they can’t be Andrew’s. You peek your eyes open and see beautiful, plump lips moving, forming shapes that should come out as words, but you don’t hear anything. Just rushing in your ears.  
It isn’t until your eyes glide up to the steel blue of Bucky’s that you let the air back into your lungs, the roaring subsiding until you hear his quiet murmurs, “you’re here, you’re safe with me. Come back to me.”  
Bucky feels you return to yourself more as your eyes dart around and your hands come to grip his tightly which are still holding your face. You manage a strangled, “I’m sorry” before your throat closes again.  
Bucky shakes his head, “nothing to apologise for.” 
When your whole body stops shaking, Bucky guides you back to a standing position. You glance over the counter, and no one is looking. They had no idea that your whole world suddenly came to a stop. No idea that you practically broke down over a broken plate in the kitchen.  
Bucky pulls your gaze back to his, “you with me?”  
You nod slowly, still not trusting your voice.  
Kevin puts the plates of food down on in the window without even looking before heading back to the kitchen. You reach out, your hands still shaking to take the plates but Bucky captures your hands with his. He links them for a few moments before placing them back at your sides. He takes the plates and heads over to the table you took the order from and delivers them with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.  
His false cheeriness is what starts to bring you back to yourself as you raise your eyebrows at his return, “why don’t you ever greet me like that?”  
He laughs, his head tipping back as he takes his seat again, “because you’re special.”  
“That’s what you say to all the girls”, you reply.  
And just like that the incident is gone. Not forgotten though, you don’t miss the way Bucky watches you more closely, the corners of his mouth set slightly lower now that he’s reminded of how broken you really are. He doesn’t ask, and you’re grateful for that. You’re not ready to talk about the monster that you try pretending doesn’t exist. But you never forget either.  
Bucky stays with you for the rest of your shift. He stands behind you like a bodyguard as you lock up the diner at one in the morning, just when the clubs really start getting busy. He makes a point to walk you all the way back to your apartment building and you don’t miss the frown he always gives it.  
You bump his arm with your shoulder, “it's not as bad as it looks, you know.” 
His face scrunches up, “if you say so. Still don’t like the thought of leaving you here though.”  
You bump into him again with a small smile, “careful Buck, some people might think you’ve gone soft.” 
You see his mouth twitch upwards as he replies, “only for some people.” 
You stare into the eyes that are staring back at you. You can feel them trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite understand. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t make sense. Someone like you doesn’t get to be happy, someone like you doesn’t get someone like him. You’ve never been that lucky.  
A horn blare down the street, as people whoop from the windows. It breaks the spell as you both turn to look with a small chuckle.  
“I better get inside, I’m beat.” You tell him as you point to your building.  
Bucky clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, definitely. I might be gone for a couple of days. A few things I need to take care of but I’m back on your day off...fancy hanging out?” 
The question almost trails off, but his stare remains intense. It dries up your throat as you open it and close it like a fish for a few moments.  
“It’s okay if you had plans, I just thought it might be nice to do something outside the diner and-”  
“I’d love to.”  
“And I was thinking we could- wait, really?” He looks to you as if he’s waiting for the punchline and it makes your heart ache.  
You give him a warm smile, “I’d love to do something. Despite being here for a few months, I haven’t seen much of New York so will be nice to get out with someone that knows it well.”  
His face splits in two to let out a huge smile, “Okay...okay, I’ll text you when I’m back?” 
You give him a nod and a shy smile, “yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.”  
His smile is so wide you don’t think he’ll be able to get any words out, so you turn and walk into your building, only glancing back once the elevator doors open to see him still stood there, smiling.  
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gonzo-rella · 1 month
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Headcanons: Being Married To Old Man Ray Stantz
MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI
Relationship(s): old man!Ray Stantz x gn!also old!reader (romantic)
Warnings: Possibly inaccurate science words, because I'm a simpleton. (Let me know if I need to add any)
(A/N: Here's my first Ghostbusters thing! I've got a few other Ghostbusters fics in the works, mostly Ray-based reader-inserts because I'm in love with him, but I've also got a Phoebe-centric character study in the works that's based on part of her storyline in Frozen Empire. By the way, I loved Frozen Empire! I've already seen it three times, and it's such a joy. I'll try to catch it a couple more times at least before it leaves cinemas. Anyway, I haven't included any explicit spoilers for Frozen Empire in this, so you're safe to read this if you haven't seen it yet. I'd love to write more old man Ray Stantz fics, especially something involving Phoebe. I'm really excited to write for Ghostbusters, so feel free to send in requests! I've only seen the movies, but I plan on watching the Real Ghostbusters at some point soon. Also, even though I took my mum to see Frozen Empire the other day, I still don't have anyone to talk to about this movie, so please feel free to talk to me about it!)
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It’s evident that, even after all of these years, Ray is still madly in love with you.
The adoration with which he looks at you is clear as day.
Venkman has always loved to tease you both about how sickly sweet your relationship is.
He will make fake gagging when either of you are affectionate to one another when he’s around.
(He won’t admit it, but he actually finds your relationship to be kind of cute)
It’s not like either of you are overly lovey-dovey, especially now.
Ray’s naturally a very passionate and expressive guy, but he’s rarely mushy.
Still, you show one another how much you care.
I have this idea that your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other is holding the other’s hand, stroking their knuckles with your thumb and smiling at them.
It just seems so cute to have this thing that you’ve been doing for your whole relationship.
Ray knows you like the back of his hand, and you know him just the same.
It’s almost scary how well you know one another.
I can imagine that there’s been a time that someone’s asked one of you a question, and the other has been able to answer it with ease.
I love the idea of Ray being with someone who’s not a scientific mind like himself.
So, if you’re not as knowledgeable about the supernatural as Ray, you’ll still have picked up on plenty of information against your will, and Ray will always be impressed with and proud of you when you manage to regurgitate or understand his ‘science-y word salad’ (as you have referred to it).
He will also find it very attractive when you talk supernatural or science to him, but he tries not to make it obvious.
His eyes still light up like he’s a kid on Christmas when he explains supernatural stuff to you or tells you about a new psychically charged item he’s bought, and you find it so endearing.
Also, I can imagine him practically forcing you to listen to Podcast’s podcast when he discovers it, and you both end up getting really into it.
As devoted as he still is to his work and his supernatural endeavours, spending time with you is his greatest priority.
He might miss being an active Ghostbuster, but the silver lining of it is that he gets more time with you than he ever used to.
Even if you both used to be Ghostbusters, it’s nice to spend time together that doesn’t involve being covered in ghost slime and shouting over nuclear accelerators.
If you’ve not got anything else to do, I think it’d be sweet if you kept him company in his store.
Phoebe and Trevor are your honorary grandkids and you and Ray are beyond proud of them, especially Phoebe, who you’re closest to of the two of them.
Phoebe will always remind the both of you of Egon, so whenever she does something particularly Egon-like, you will exchange a knowing glance, and when she’s gone you’ll end up reminiscing about your old friend.
If Phoebe or the other Spenglers ever want to hear about Egon, you’re both more than happy to talk to them about him.
Even in his golden years, Ray is still the same sweet, passionate, excitable man you married all those years ago.
Sure, the regular excitement that came with Ghostbusting is long behind you both, but you both cherish this quieter time together just as much.
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safetycar-restart · 7 months
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KINKTOBER DAY 19: A/B/O [MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER]
NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with omega!max and alpha!reader. If you're under 18 or this is not something you're interested in, then scroll past. If you like what you see here, then check out the rest of my blog :))
This fic is part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail through asks on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!
(For a while now we've been discussing the idea of omega!max crashing and then going to heat when a marshal helps him out of the car, I thought that for today's kinktober we could finally give this concept it's own fic! If anyone wants to add their own thoughts or hear more about this, please send in some asks! I'll be tagging everything with 'marshal!reader')
You watch from your marshal post as a red bull goes wide and hits the barriers, the car spins twice and then settles, losing a wheel in the process. You wait until the yellow flag is out and then rush forward to collect the debris, as you have been trained.
You check on the driver, realising it's max when you see the number on the car. You try to confirm he's conscious, but when he spots you he motions for help getting out the car. There are other marshals already clearing the debris so you do as he asks.
The moment he's out the car, he's frantically trying to get his helmet off. He appears unharmed, but you can smell the fear off him from a mile away.
The moment his helmet is off, he takes a few deep breaths, looks at you, and then just drops his helmet and gloves and dives into your arms. You nearly both topple down, having not expected it, but luckily you manage to catch him.
He whines high in his throat, turning his neck to the side as he clings to you and that's when you smell it. The scent of slick finally making itself known.
You realise he's in heat.
You try to back away, knowing you're unmated alpha and that he must be reacting to you. But he whines and clings to you even tighter, refusing to let you go.
"Don't leave," he mumbles against you, "please don't leave."
The medical car arrives but max still refuses to let you go, trying to hide against your neck.
The doctor ends up telling you to come with him, knowing that trying to get an omega in heat away from an alpha they've chosen is a losing battle. You don't want to leave your post, but your instincts are completely honed into the omega who won't let you go.
You know you have to go with them.
Max is whining the whole car ride to the medical centre, hissing at the doctor when he opens the door when they arrive. You have to coax Max out of the car, promising him that you're coming with and that you won't leave him.
Not that you would ever want to leave him.
They end up injecting heat suppressants into his arm, which calms him down enough that you can convince him to let you go and escape out the medical centre.
It hurts so much, because all your instincts are screaming at you to go back and look after the omega who has chosen you. But logically you know that's not the case. Max must have gone into a shock heat when he crashed, and you were simply the first alpha he encountered. He doesn't even know your name, there's no way it's anything more than instincts and now that he's been giving suppressants, you're sure he's going to be mortified once he can think straight.
So you leave.
What you dont know though, is that the suppressants stop working after a few hours and he asks for the marshal who helped him. They offer him several toys and other alphas, even Daniel shows up to offer to help. Max turns everyone down, crying out for the marshal.
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qtboni · 1 year
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#.QTBONI‘S — RULES & MASTERLIST !
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the curated collection of my written works, organized by fandom and characters. these stories feature mature adult themes and content, and every character depicted in the works is written as an 18+ individual.
「 this is a multi, n/sfw content blog <3 minors & ageless blogs dni! 」 + please read all tags and content warnings before reading!
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SERIES
1000 followers event
FICS
⋆៹ SIMON RILEY ᵎᵎ
love language ꒰ despite his difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you ꒱
melting into your arms ꒰ him melting into your arms after a rough day at work ꒱
shattered hopes ꒰ he lashes out on you and was very dismissive over your efforts for him ꒱
rebuilding hopes ꒰ after an argument with you, he feels a deep sense of remorse for the pain he caused ꒱
loved imperfections ꒰ he reassures your insecurities with loving words ꒱
sweet dreams, my love ꒰ he woke up to you sleeping far away from him in the bed so he pulls you back to him ꒱
a lil' vampire you are ꒰ you bite him with your canine teeth and he gets feral for it ꒱
wild cowboy ꒰ he indulges you in your pretty lil fantasies of him being a cowboy ꒱
shying away ꒰ he encourages and guides you on what he wants to do to you ꒱
atrapada ꒰ kidnapped and tortured in front of him, he has to endure all of it until he gets his hands on your captor ꒱
⋆៹ KÖNIG ᵎᵎ
rest well, mein liebe ꒰ he lets you rest on his shoulder, and him also resting on top of your head ꒱
love in the emergency room ꒰ you were brought into the emergency room and he was your emergency contact ꒱
bloodstained love ꒰ yandere slasher au, he comes home to you after killing someone and asks you if you're proud of him ꒱
⋆៹ CAPTAIN PRICE ᵎᵎ
cocoa kisses ꒰ he craves warmth and safety, which he finds whenever he comes to you, the person he loves ꒱
what'd u call me? ꒰ fatherfigure au, where you accidentally calls him dad ꒱
⋆៹ VARIOUS ᵎᵎ
hug me close ꒰ having cold hands for cuddles ꒱
our journey begins ꒰ their reaction to the news of your pregnancy ꒱
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💬 | hi bb !! i love sharing my thoughts and hearing from you . so , please feel free to reblog and engage with my content as much as you like ! ur interactions are always appreciated . thank you <3 alsk please read the rules thoroughly b4 you interact or send in a reqs . extra note , my prev username was @tsunagi | person in pfp is not me , it is @/yuprntae on ig .
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˒ ៸៸𓂃 RULES ! 彡 ·˚
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read the warnings (cw/tw tags) first if you’re going to be reading my works ! some of them may contain sensitive topics or any type of topics that might trigger you . i don’t intend to cause any kind of harm to my readers so please, don’t forget to read through it .
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˒ ៸៸𓂃 MSG FOR U ! 彡 ·˚
want to be mutuals w/ me ?? sure sure !! js send me a msg in my dms or inbox <3 as long as you're 17+ & also an ff writer ofc , it should be no problem (exceptionally when i follow u and u follow me back 🤗)
i put my heart and soul into the stories that i write, and i work hard to fulfill your hunger as quickly as possible HAHA /hj .
as an aspiring writer , i get my inspiration from my daily life occurrences . sometimes, it can be challenging to find motivation to write, which is why i've made the decision to start ( somehow ) share my personal stories as a way to practice and improve my writing skills . i've found that writing about my experiences and feelings is cathartic and healing, and i hope that my stories can provide comfort and inspiration to others who can relate <3
pls respect me as i am a human person like you & continue on showing love to everybody pls :)) my blog and my works are wholeheartedly dedicated to my fellow fanfic readers and writers . thank you guys for the endless support !! you guys make my days feel worth it sm . not kidding :((
© qtboni | 2023: please do not use my works without my permission . do not plagiarize , repost , or translate any of my writings as well as my theme . thank you .
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frogs-with-tea · 4 months
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[CW: Labor/Childbirth]
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[Fetish/Kink Blogs DNI]
My hand slipped and I accidentally spent two days drawing zosan labor sketches. I have some reservations about posting these, since mpreg is already out there (for some), and a lot of people think labor is gross. But I've always been oddly fascinated by it, how ALL life comes from pain and work. I also think it's peak hurt/comfort, and I really loved drawing Sanji encouraging Zoro and trying to kiss away his pain.
Zoro is my favorite because he's a character who revolves around strength, and his anxiety of being strong enough. So this strong character, the strongest on the crew second only to Luffy, is made vulnerable by childbirth? That's poetry to me bby
I don't want to pigeonhole myself into coming across as only a mpreg blog, I do want to start drawing other stuff soon, but I need to bloodlet years of pent up mpreg ideas (that sounds a little silly when I say it out loud). I'm also working on a fan fic rn to help with that, but if anyone has one piece suggestions of normal things I should draw, feel free to send them my way.
Also if this post gets reblogged by any fetish blogs it's immediately getting privated. I really don't want my art, especially with subject matter like this, on fetish blogs so :/
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storiesofsvu · 6 months
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Holiday Bingo 2023
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That's right besties! It's that time of year again! And in an attempt to keep y'all entertained with your favourite blorbos, I'm hosting this bingo so we can all share our creations and you have something to fixate on while I'm busy as hell at work!
As per usual:
Submissions can be anything! A mood board, a ficlet, headcanons, drabble, gif sets, one shots, social media au's, make it a mini series following the holiday journey of the same two characters! literally whatever you want!
Prompts are all winter/holiday themed. If it specifically says "Christmas" it does not need to be Christmas, it can be whatever holiday this time of year that you want!
Read the rest of the rules under the cut!
Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, make it tooth rottingly sweet, make it angsty as all hell and break our hearts, make it a wild AU, do whatever you want with them as long as they are what inspired your story. (aka "first snowfall" could be the first time character a is seeing snow, it could be the first snow of the year, it could be the characters baby's/dog's first time seeing snow. It can be cute, catching snow flakes on tongues or sad, bringing back memories with a friend who has passed. Literally whatever you want.) Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warnings/tags at the TOP of the post and I don't want to see any TikTok censoring of words!
Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, or any kind of crossover! Mix and match, stick with one, try out a new character or fandom!
Accepted Fandoms:
Literally everything and everyone. This is wide open to any and every fandom/show/movie that you want, it's free game besties! It doesn't matter if I write/read that fandom, do what you would like!
Some Inspiration:
-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)
-Criminal Minds
-Marvel
-NCIS
-One Chicago
-Abbott Elementary
-Mayans
-Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice
-911/Lonestar
-OUAT
-The L Word
-Wednesday
Rules:
You MUST tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hashtag #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 on each creation and I'll put together the masterlist.
Bingo begins on November 25th and will run all the way to January 20th.
You may only post/submit ONE creation per day!
Only one bingo square per creation
No underage characters involved in relations.
Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic
Anything over 1000 words must be under a readmore!
Everyone is welcomed and encouraged to participate! You do not need to be following me, we don't need to be mutuals, if you see this post and want to play, let's go!
If anyone has questions, feel free to comment or send me a message/ask!
Some playlists to get us in the mood:
________________
tagging some people who might be interested? (if you got tagged and have no idea who i am/where this came from it is likely that i have read your stuff and loved it/have some bookmarked on my to bed read lol. feel free to ignore.)
@prentiss-theorem @swimmingstudentchaos891 @rustyzebra @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @adarafaelbarba @detective-giggles @mickey-gomez @alexusonfire @bumblebear30 @tropes-and-tales @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @beccabarba @prurientpuddlejumper @fighterkimburgess @baubeautyandthegeek @melk917 @blackbird-brewster @virescent-v @leftoverenvy @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @daddy-heather-dunbar @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @five-bi-five-main @thehauntingofbasingse @supercriminalbean @h0tch-r0cket @bullet-prooflove @boldlyvoid @astrophileous @slutforsilverfoxes @cissyenthusiast010155 @hotchs-bitch @honeypiehotchner @whiteberryx @v3nusxsky
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emotionalcadaver · 9 months
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Main Masterlist
Welcome! My name is Lauren. I am 23, use she/her pronouns, and am a fanfiction writer as well as a self-admitted film snob. I write OC x Canon fanfiction, mostly for Cillian Murphy characters.
18+ ONLY. Minors do not interact.
I cross-post all of my fics onto Archive of Our Own.
Most of my work deals with mature themes, so please take care to read the corresponding warnings listed in the notes of each individual fic. Your content consumption is your own responsibility. If I ever fail to include a specific warning in the notes, please feel free to kindly leave me an ask or message letting me know.
I have tag lists for all of my fics. If you would like to be added to any of these lists, please send me a comment, ask, or message, and specify which fics you would like to be tagged in. You are welcome to ask to be tagged in everything, or you can pick from any of the fics listed down below.
I am always happy to chat, so please feel free to send me an ask or DM anytime! Mutuals are welcome to ask for my Discord!
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Dunkirk
Cold Waters & Sunlit Gardens
When she decides to accompany the Dawsons on their voyage to help during the evacuation of Dunkirk, Daisy Preston has little idea of what she is actually getting herself into. All she knows is that there's tea, the roar of planes overhead, and the blue eyes of the handsome, shivering soldier they just rescued from a shipwreck staring at her from across the deck.
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In Time
The Shackles of Broken Time
Trapped in poverty and forced to contribute to a cause she doesn't actually believe in, Rose Mason keeps her mind focused on simply surviving day to day. Until a few reckless actions catch her the attention of Timekeeper Raymond Leon; the last person anyone would want to have as an enemy.
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Inception
Hiding Here Inside a Dream
Alice Emerson has known Robert Fischer since they were four years old. Instant best friends, they were near inseparable until the meddling of an abusive father drove them apart. But perhaps they can find their way back to one another. And maybe, finally, admit that they've been in love with each other all this time.
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Peaky Blinders
Love Me Where I'm Most Ruined (In Progress)
They call him the Devil. They tell her to stay clear of him. They warn her that he'll steal her soul. But Lucy Winters came to Small Health fleeing monsters and unspeakable trauma. And her soul seems but a small price to pay in exchange for the things that Tommy Shelby has to offer her.
Nocturnal Me
There’s something sitting on the edge of the bed, and it wants her husband.
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The Dark Knight Trilogy
The Shadow Game
Broken, traumatized, and more than a little insane, Vanessa Sullivan and Jonathan Crane's childhoods were steeped in horror and loneliness. But when they are assigned as lab partners during their time in college, they realize that they may not be as alone in their madness as they'd both originally thought.
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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!
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dayseternal-blog · 2 months
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Hi days!!! Thank you so much for being like the only one to interact with me on here 🫶 I was wondering if you and anyone else could send me any fics with naruto being a gym rat? Even if he’s just a little background character lol
💕💕💕💕 You're a dear mutual to me 😭😭 you don't have to thank me 😭😭
The first fics I thought of are ones you probably already know 😔
Gym Naruto in NaruHina Fics
“Serenity Prayer” by katarinahime - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.
“Common Side Effects” by katarinahime & “Medicated” by szajnie - Rated E for a lot of things, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.
There are these others that show gyms...of various types...:
“Seeing Stars” by Free Mentality - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. They had been attending the same boxing gym for months before he noticed her, and the first time they met was a bit of a disaster, to say the least.
Chapter 21 from “Between the Trees” by @utsus - Rated G, Olympics AU, One-shot. It’s not uncommon for them to train in the same gym.
Chapter 6 from “Heartbreaks and Heartaches” by @powerful-niya - Rated T, College AU, One-shot. Prompt 4: Hinata slowly raised her head to look at Tenten, her eyes burning from the amount of tears, “No, it’s my fault.” She muttered, clutching her own shirt, “I caused this to happen— I told him to leave.” (prepare to be very sad.)
"Prey" by @sessakag- Rated E, Crime AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Following a midnight chance encounter with Hinata Hyuuga, a smitten sociopath, Naruto Uzumaki, tries his hand at romance, determined to make her fall in love with him the only way he knows how.
Oh, here's a couple that I think fit the idea of gym rat a little better!
“Naughty or Nice?” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Modern AU, Two-shot. Even though she was against the idea at first, Hinata can’t take her eyes off the Sexy Santa that Ino recruited for their company’s holiday party.
“Nighttime Workout” by Breezyanimetra - Rated E, College AU, Two-shot. Shy Hinata doesn’t usually have the courage to speak with her long time crush Naruto. All she does is watch him workout wishing she can do more. A snow storm one fateful night changes that for her.
Oh this next one doesn't show any gym setting, but Naruto is a physical trainer:
“Warped” by BountifullyBeautifullyBlessed - Rated E includes non-con, College AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata can’t sleep and her roommate, Naruto, is more than willing to help her out.
going to the gym is also mentioned in these:
“The Study Session” from “Endless Lemons” by agitosgirl - Rated M, High School AU, One-shot. She’s covered in piercings and leather, and has a bad attitude. But she takes an interest in him. A very special interest…
“Echoes of Silence” by @ellaroundpanda - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata Hyuga was trapped. Her relationship with Toneri was leading to nowhere and she wanted to find a new Dom. Naruto Uzumaki seemed to be the answer to all her prayers, but her fiancé wouldn’t give up that easily…
Naruto does weightlifting in this one:
“Asynchronous With You” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. They told everyone they were foster siblings. He did it for her because she didn’t want them to grow apart. She did it for herself so she could stop loving him. Their timing couldn’t have been worse.
uhmm I think in this one, he owns gyms:
“Missed Years” by Rinne-Kami - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. The act of one night gave birth to their future. And now, with years past since that one night, they were left with years to return. Seven years of love to find, seven years of trust to rebuild, and seven years of fatherhood to return.
Okay, I found more than I thought I would! If anyone can think of others, feel free to add!
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flower-yi · 18 days
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100 FOLLOWERS EVENT !
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hello hello everyone!!!! just a few days ago, i hit 100 followers!
first of all, i want to thank everyone who picked up my works and dedicated a portion of their time to reading it. it means a lot! writing is a journey i've decided to embark on as it has been an interest of mine for such a long time, and i'm glad that you're all here with me!! this milestone wouldn't have happened without the stellaronhvnters network, the oracleofstars network, and of course to the people who supported me on my journey. (you know who you are!!!)
in celebration for this milestone, i've decided to open my asks for requests. for those unfamiliar with how i run my blog, most of my writing comes from a moment of inspiration—which is, actually, a fancy way to say i write on a whim—so this event gives me a chance to bounce off someone's ideas and bring them to life!
this is also to bond with you guys over your favourite characters... giggles mischievously 😭😭
(more utc!)
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naturally, as this is an event (and a time to put in requests!), rules must be put in order. here it is as follows:
i am a sfw blog, so anything nsfw is prohibited. suggestive content is allowed but limited.
romantic and platonic scenarios are both allowed! i will, however, prohibit any romantic scenarios with underage characters.
genres i will write for range from fluff to angst :D
it is entirely up to you how to decide phrasing your request. you may add concepts like, for example, 5:00AM, etc. (fics based on songs are allowed... :3)
as this is a multi-fandom blog, anyone from any fandom can go on and put in a request. i will list both the fandoms and possible characters* i will write here;
- honkai: star rail (veritas ratio, jing yuan, blade, topaz, acheron, argenti)
- genshin impact (alhaitham, kaveh, ningguang, thoma, kaeya, diluc)
- love&deepspace (basically all of the love interests—this includes caleb, by the way. looking at someone in particula
- twisted wonderland (trey clover, deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, jack howl)
- tentatively, jujutsu kaisen—more so from the reason i may deliver not so accurate characterisation of whom you'll request for. i am, however, up to the task of writing for the characters :3 (megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko ieiri, yuji itadori)
if you have any fandom in mind that you think i'll write for, feel free to ask if i do!
*characters listed here are examples.
this is more so a reminder than a rule, but please be polite and respectful when writing your request! remember, i am entitled to refuse any requests i deem unreasonable.
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the event duration will be from BST+1 april 21, 2024 to april 27 2024. as this is one of the (official) times i've opened my requests, i want to take it slow as to not overwhelm myself!!
if you have any questions, don't be shy to send in an ask. once again, thank you to everyone for making this milestone possible! ♡
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IMAGE FOUND ON pinterest
DIVIDERS BY @/saradika-graphics
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summerongrand · 2 months
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20 questions for fic writers
I was tagged by the wonderful and talented Lana @cfr749. She’s a gifted writer and has 19 works with a WHOPPING 354,235 words on Ao3!!!!!! She’s a gem, a fandom OG (I think), and began writing Chenford since before they were canon. I like to read an author’s fics in chronological order and am reading hers this way. There’s a charm about reading pre-canon works in this fandom because it’s like time traveling and seeing a shipper’s heart through their writing and their belief in this ship that may or may not come true. And Lana on top of all of that has a way of combining words in a way that tugs at the essence of human emotion. Go read her fics!!!
1. How many works do you have on Ao3? I’m honored to be recognized as a fic writer despite having zero works on Ao3. Lana was incredibly thoughtful to tag me and I *think* it’s because she saw some tags where I mentioned that I write fic. Noticing small things like that is one of the many reasons why she is an awesome human being.
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? Currently 0. In total, I have around 80,000 words that I haven’t shared yet. 
3. What fandoms do you write for? The Rookie.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
I’ll use this space to preview 5 fics in various stages of planning:
1. Psych professor Lucy and student Tim. Tim is married and Lucy’s in a relationship, so Chenford will be riding down Angst Avenue for a while … even as they ride their s/o’s.
2. Psych professor Lucy and student Tim. A companion story to the first.
3. Tim meeting Lucy’s grandma. There are a few OCs in this one including Lucy’s grandma. This is planned as a one-shot with potential for more chapters. I’m currently “face casting” Lucy’s grandma, so if anyone has suggestions, feel free to send them my way.
4. Soulmates AU. I have five separate Google docs with five separate ideas of how I want to write this. I’m leaning towards writing this from a historic angle where there’s a huge geographic separation between Lucy and Tim.
5. Found family goes on vacation. Patrice or the Thorsen family owns a huge resort up in the mountains (because of course they do). Our favorites spend a few days of fun up there. Thinking of writing Chenford as either having a secret relationship or in a pre-relationship. I just returned from a vacation in the mountains and this was in no way inspired by that. Nope.
5. Do you respond to comments?
If someone takes the time to comment on my stories, I definitely will reply.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
My fics will always end happy because Lucy Chen deserves for Tim Bradford to give her the world.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Psych professor Lucy/student Tim is the only one that has an ending so far. But dunno yet if I’ll keep that ending.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
No, because I currently don’t have any fics on Ao3.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Psych professor Lucy/student Tim is my first fic in over 20 years and first foray into smut. They just wanna bang … their s/o’s and each other.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
As a kid, I wrote a fic where S Club 7, BSB, NSync, Britney, Christina, Mandy Moore, Jessica Simpson, O-Town, A*Teens, etc. all stayed in a hugeass chalet and performed sets. BSB and NSync kept throwing shade and snowballs at each other.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 
No.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Chenford!
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I started writing psych professor Lucy/student Tim over six months ago and I honestly don’t ever want to finish writing that fic. But that's also partly why I haven't shared it yet. The story keeps evolving which makes the front end still a work in progress.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I can’t comment on my strengths as a fic writer because I haven’t gotten any feedback on my fics in over 20 years. But I can comment on my strengths/weaknesses as a writer: I’ve been told that I write very colloquially/conversationally and this was, until recently, seen as a strength by people smarter than me giving me honest feedback.
I also try to incorporate real experiences into my fics. This takes research, talking to people, listening to their experiences, etc. but it's so worth doing. For example, when Colin O’Neil (Mel’s bro) drinks, his face turns tomato red. He wrote about it in an Instagram post. Same thing happens to Melissa and to a lot of other East Asians but there are ways to circumvent redness with pills and such. So yeah, with that tidbit in mind, there's a scene in one of my fics where Tim clocks Lucy’s tomato red flush after a night of drinking.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Not writing enough details (see what I did there?)
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Haven’t written dialogue in another language but I’m not against it either. I know enough Spanish to be comfortable writing in it without butchering it. I'm so game for Lucy to speak Chinese to Tim and Chenford kids, but I don’t know if I can pull it off. I can try though!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
S Club 7.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Professor Lucy/student Tim. 
--
Thanks again for the tag, Lana!
I'm tagging @onlyforchenford (because I'm an instigator and would love to read her fics), @poppypickle, @goodgirlssayiloveyoutoo @rememberthismomentx, @lovemesomechenford, @randomlittleimp, and @sailorslut111 (apologies if y'all have already done this and I missed it)!
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