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munson-blurbs · 10 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

A continuation of Bad News First, Eddie. I am absolutely floored by the responses I received, and I will try my best to tag everyone who asked. I know it's not Eddie's part, but chronologically, Wayne's part felt right.

Of all the things Wayne’s been called, unobservant isn’t one of them. He’s lived in Hawkins his entire life. He knows who is who, what is what, and to keep his head down and believe there’s a cougar in the woods when he’s told.

So, when Nancy Wheeler shows up, asking questions, Wayne has answers. Is willing to give those answers because he remembers when little Will Byers went missing, and how Nancy and her friends had done more to try and find him than the entire police force of Hawkins. Nancy and her friends always seemed to be in the orbit of whatever terrible thing was happening in Hawkins these last few years.

So, foolishly, terribly, he doesn’t intervene. He thought they were like that Scooby Doo cartoon Eddie used to love; kids solving mysteries. If he’d known the true extent of the horror, he wouldn’t have let those kids go it alone. But he didn’t know then.

Still didn’t know the day he pretends to not know who Dustin Henderson is while swapping out Eddie’s missing poster. It’s easier than having to face someone who knows Eddie, someone who had been looking for him but failed to find him.

Until Dustin calls after him. Until Dustin speaks to him. Hands him Eddie’s necklace. Wayne can’t stand anymore, this breaks him. Dustin says he was with him, in the end. Calls Eddie a hero, said people would have loved him had they known him. It’s nothing Wayne doesn’t already know.

Eddie is his hero. He loves Eddie. And if he’d stepped in sooner, chased down these kids and asked just what the fuck was happening, maybe he could have changed the ending of this story.

Hawkins explodes into a hellscape days later and Wayne sets out to find Nancy Wheeler. If Eddie gave his life to protect these kids, then Wayne must strive to do no less.

Nancy’s got a good head on her shoulders, willing to accept any help offered. He can see how she’s survived this long. She gets in in touch with Hopper, who introduces him to Doctor Sam Owens and Lt Colonel Jack Sullivan.

He doesn’t think it’s fair that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old girl.

It’s Dustin who tells him the whole story, the night before the end. Either Eleven will win tomorrow, or she won’t, but the outcome gets decided then.

“I’m s-so sorry, Mr. M-Munson. We just… just left him there!” Dustin breaks down crying and Wayne reaches out to him, an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. If Wayne sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him?

“Doctor Owens, a word,” Wayne pulls the man aside after the kids have gone to bed. “Dustin said… my boy is just yards away from our trailer. He didn’t even get out of the park. I understand it’s an all hands on deck situation, but can anyone be spared? Can anyone bring my boy back? I’ll go myself if I have to.”

Doctor Owens, a genuinely kind man, Wayne can tell, has tears filling his eyes just at the request. “Mr. Munson, we will do everything in our power to bring your boy home.”

Doctor Owens pays for the headstone. Said it was the least he could do since his team failed. Wayne tries not to be bitter about it.

The graffiti starts up almost immediately. Wayne doesn’t understand why.

He thinks he’s caught someone in the act, grabs roughly at the perpetrator and yanks. The Harrington boy stumbles up and back, a little bit of fear in his eyes but no paint in hand. He’s holding a rag and small container of paint thinner. A quick look between Harrington and the grave, he can see the half-cleaned headstone.

He’s never spoken much with Harrington, but Dustin has nothing bad to say.

“You know my boy?” because he can’t bring himself to say ‘knew’ just yet.

Harrington looks just about as haunted as Wayne feels when he says, so quietly, “Not as well as I would have liked, sir.”

Wayne is observant, but even he can admit it takes longer than he thought to figure out Steve Harrington. That boy had put himself between those kids and danger again, and again, and again, and lived. Eddie did it once and… well, Wayne reckons Steve thinks it should have been him. He won’t say so out loud, but Wayne sees a lot of his younger self in Steve, knows him in much the same way he knows himself.

Steve lives with a guilt he shouldn’t; this was Eddie’s choice. His reckless, dangerous, courageous choice. And they’ve got to learn to live with it. Steve’s parents are absent, and Wayne’s nephew is gone. Without any conscious decision about it, they’ve adopted each other.

Steve wants to know everything about Eddie. Every little story Wayne can come up with. And he, well, he loves that someone wants to know. Wants to remember Eddie with him.

“Bad news. I regret not knowing him sooner,” Steve confesses to him one day as they scrub the headstone clean again.

“Good news. You know him now,” Wayne replies.

“Do I?”

Wayne can’t answer that. Not honestly one way or another. How well can you know someone from secondhand information? Steve spent a total of five days in his nephew’s company but he helps keep his memory alive. “I don’t know. What I do know is that Eddie Munson won’t be forgotten when I die. And that matters.”

He gets in an accident at the plant. He doesn’t remember what happened, not fully, but he knows that Steve never left his side. Demanded his come stay in his big empty house. Easier to move around in, with all the open space.

Wayne wasn’t really attached to his apartment anyway. If he was going to live the rest of his life in a home that had never known Eddie’s presence, it could at least be with someone who had known Eddie’s presence, however briefly.

Wayne wonders if he’s done the right thing sometimes. Indulging Steve’s need to know Eddie. At first, he thought it was fine, because learning about Eddie seemed to alleviate Steve’s guilt. But now.

He’s watching the boy fall in love with a ghost.

Helping it happen, even.

Robin and Steve aren’t nearly as quiet or subtle as they think, and Wayne’s observant. They seem to forget that Wayne’s just old, and not deaf and blind.

Or maybe, they’re comfortable enough that they don’t truly hide from him.

And it hurts his heart to think this (because he’s thinking it about his Eddie, wonderful, loving Eddie) but Steve deserves to love more than a ghost.

And then the kids graduate. Start to go to college. Steve acts fine, but he’s not. Wayne knows. It’s like he’s losing his purpose, but Wayne’s just as broken. Not strong enough to push Steve away. To make Steve go, too.

Honestly, he’s a little afraid that if he tried, then Steve would follow right after Eddie.

So, he doesn't. He decides he needs Steve, and perhaps even more so, Steve needs him.

Then, five years after Eddie’s death, the call happens. It’s about his piece of shit little brother, Wyatt. He’s gotta go, though. Because this is one last strand of Eddie. Eddie’s mother has been gone longer than Eddie, and fuck, Wyatt deserves to know. Wayne doesn’t claim to be a saint; if his brother wasn’t being released, he’d probably never tell him. He’d let him die in that prison believing his son is alive.

He doesn’t even know if Wyatt will care that Eddie’s gone. But he’s got to find out.

Steve drives him to the airport and no matter how many times Wayne says he’s coming back, Steve doesn’t seem to believe him.

But it’s not his shitty little brother waiting to greet him in Tennessee. It’s Eleven.

“Sorry for the lie, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I learned but Doctor Owens said that, this one time, we needed to be right before we could be honest.”

It’s Eddie. It’s Eddie Wyatt Munson, who looks at him shyly, almost as if afraid, from the apartment doorway Eleven takes him to. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

It’s five fucking years too late but he pulls Eddie in a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

Wayne learns.

They had found him, barely alive. It was better, they said, to take him away. Let the town cool down while Eddie healed, but he was catatonic for the better part of these last five years.

“Eddie woke up empty,” Eleven says softly, apropos nothing sitting next to Wayne as they watch Eddie discuss next steps with Owens. “He could be told to do things. Drink this. Eat that. His eyes never focused on anything. Doctor Owens called him a shell. I asked what that means. He said that Eddie’s body worked, but his mind did not because Eddie was not in his own mind anymore. But I knew he was in there. I had to get him back.” She reaches a hand out, waving in the general direction of Eddie’s head.

This surprises Wayne. “You brought him back?”

“Memory by memory,” Eleven says, picking at her pants leg. “Even the painful ones. Doctor Owens says every memory shapes who we are, even tough ones.”

Wayne looks at Eleven, a young woman of nineteen now, but remembers how scared and brave she’d been at fourteen. “Words cannot express how thankful I am for you.”

“I did it for you. And maybe a little bit for me.”

Wayne makes a humming noise. Not truly questioning, but an acknowledgment of what she said. If she wants to share her reasons, he won’t stop her. He’s just not going to pry.

“I chose my friend. I chose Max.”

He knows. “You made the right choice.”

“I know. I am not guilty about it,” she frowns as she thinks about her words. “But Dustin is my friend, too, and I knew Eddie was his friend. But I cared more about Max. I had to do all I could to make it right. For you. For Dustin. For me.”

Wayne doesn’t have words, so he just pulls Eleven into a hug. It must convey all he needs because when she pulls back, she beams at him.

Wayne fills Eddie in on what has happened as best he can. It’s such a jarring difference, speaking to Eddie about Steve than it had been speaking to Steve about Eddie. Eddie just looks confused for most of it and doesn’t really ask followup questions, but Wayne understands. Eddie had known Steve for five days and he’s got time to really get to know Steve now. Steve thought all he’d ever have of Eddie is someone else’s memories.

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie breaths out, all wonder and awe and- Well, maybe Wayne isn’t as observant as he had always thought. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie stutters over his words, eyes wide and wild. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles and lies, as if he hadn’t just watched all the pieces slot together in this moment.

“So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington?” Eddie is blushing but he blows past Wayne’s question. “Will he… be okay with me being there?”

Steve’s been loving a ghost, is what Wayne thinks. Steve’s been in love with a ghost and this. This is a ghost story that can have a better ending. But he’s not going to make those declarations for Steve, so what he says is, “yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all.”

Eddie smiles to himself, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind.

If he hadn’t just figured it out two minutes ago, that would have been a dead giveaway that his boy might be a little bit in love with Steve.

He calls Steve. Tells him he’s coming home and bringing a guest. Steve says that’s fine, he’ll fix up Robin’s old room into a guest room.

“This isn’t the way to the Harrington house,” Eddie observes from the passenger seat of the rental car Doctor Owens had paid for, to get them from Indianapolis back to Hawkins.

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed.”

“The cemetery?”

Wayne shrugs, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once. Ah. See, there he is.” Wayne points and Eddie’s eyes follow.

Something akin to wonder passes over Eddie’s face and he all but falls out of the car before it’s even stopped.

Wayne thinks he’ll give them five or so minutes before following.

#steddie #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #ok i promise next update will be eddie pov #i just wanted eddies part to move past this graveyard meetup #so waynes pov first #also eddies part could end up being the longest and more difficult part

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greynatomy · 8 months

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the one that got away

alessia russo x reader

second part to regret. had a lot of fun writing this and might do more polls if i can’t choose for myself again. also, ignore how many times rory’s age is asked. didn’t realize how many times i wrote it in.

part 1

———

“Gather ‘round girls!” Jonas’ voice brings Leah back to the present.

Everyone comes together at the middle of the gym, waiting for what Jonas is gonna say.

“Just wanna welcome everyone who was in Australia back and also our ACL squad. We’re all glad to see you all up and running.” Everyone cheers and claps. “Now, I wanna welcome our new signing, Alessia Russo.” Alessia walks towards the group awkwardly, not wanting to trip.

“Hi.” She gives a small wave.

“Don’t be shy Lessi. We’re all friendly.”

“Yeah! We don’t bite!”

Over the course of the week, Alessia gets situated with the team and the dynamics, learning how to play with her new team.

“Mrs. Russo, someone’s been calling your phone. It’s says there’s ten missed calls.”

“From who?”

“Amore Mio.”

Everyone’s attention is now on Alessia, all curios about the girl’s significant other, judging from the name that the trainer said that was shown on her phone.

“Hi, love. What happened? So, she’s fine. Yeah. Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I love you. See you later.”

She gives her phone back to one of the trainers, telling them to inform her if you were to call again.

“What was that all about?” Katie asks in her usual loud voice.

“Oh, sorry. My daughter got hurt at preschool.”

“Wait. Hold up! Daughter? You have a daughter?” She didn’t know who asked, but saw the rest of the team walking closer to her.

“Uh, yeah.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s three now.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t carry cause you’ve not really took a break from football.”

“Nope. Won’t be carrying any babies in me. Freaks me out a bit, but my wife happily did it.”

“So you have a kid and a wife and none of us knew about it?”

“No one really knows. We wanted to keep it to ourselves. I didn’t want the public knowing and plastering their face in the media yet, and we like our little bubble.”

“Not even Tooney knew?”

“Oh, Tooney knew. She had to give the best friend talk and all that. Wanted to know her opinion before anything turned serious and now we’re four years strong, three of them married.”

“So, when do you think we’ll meet ‘em?”

———

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Not really, but have to be. I’ll be seeing a lot of her more since you’ve transferred.”

“It’s been five years too, she’d probably moved on, yeah?”

“Don’t know Lessi. I hope so. Now let’s get little princess dressed.”

“I’ve already dressed her, babe. Just waiting on you.”

You looked at her skeptically.

“You? Dressed Rory?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alessia asked, offense written on her face.

“Nothing bad, Less. Just, you turn her into a mini me every time.”

“And she loves it every time. I love when the two of you match. My favorite girls.

“And when this baby pops out of me, no doubt he’ll be a mini you.”

“I won’t be outnumbered this time.”

———

“Sorry, I’m late. Kid ran away while I tried getting her in the car.” Alessia explained, walking to where everyone was gathered in the backyard.

“You’re fine. Now, who is this little one?”

“Wanna say your name bubs?”

“I Rory. I dis many.” She says holding up three fingers.

“Woah. That’s a lot of fingers.” Your daughter giggles.

“Did that wife of yours come?”

“Yeah, she probably went to the—”

“—Sorry. I had to go to the washroom. It’s nice to meet you all. Name’s—”

“—Y/n.” Leah finishes, shocked, voice shaking.

“…Hi, Leah.”

“You two know each other.” Katie asks, intrigued how the skipper knew you.

“Uh, yeah. We used to be close friends.”

“No. She was my wife.” You could’ve heard a pin drop from how silent everyone was.

“Okay. Woah. There is a lot to unpack here.”

“And they can do it privately.” Alessia intervened.

“You know about our history.” Leah turns to Alessia, hurt all over her face. She was close to the girl, being on the national team together and the whole time she was in a relationship with her ex-wife.

“Of course I do. She’s my wife.”

The dinner was pretty awkward for a bit after the interaction. Rory have been playing with some of the other girls, you staying by your wife’s side getting to know her teammates.

Eventually, Leah got the courage to go up to you.

“Hey, uh, do you think we could talk?”

You look up at her, seeing the nervous look on her face.

“Sure. Honey, help me up.” Alessia grabs ahold of your hand and the other on your arm to stabilize you. “Let’s go inside.”

You go to little sitting area in the corner of the living room, away from everyone, but not out of sight. There was a couple seconds of silence, very awkward silence.

“Are you just not gonna say anything?”

Leah apologizes. “Uh, how’ve you been?”

“Doing pretty good.”

Another awkward silence.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what to say. I’ve had five years to practice what I was gonna say to you if I ever would run into you, but it just slipped my mind. But I guess I wanted to apologize and say that I took you for granted. I don’t deserve your forgiveness at all for being distant, lying to you about where I’ve been doing or going… for, uh, cheating on you. I’ve hated myself the second it happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“What?”

“Why’d you do it? Was it something I did that made you go to another that you should’ve gone to me for or—”

“—No! God, no! You did nothing wrong, it was all on me. I don’t really have an explanation as shitty as it sounds.”

“It’s been five years and I do forgive you. I think I forgave you the moment I met my wife. I needed to close the door on our relationship to be able to truly love her how she should be loved, so I forgive you. Doesn’t mean that I’ll ever forget. But you are forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

Before anyone can say anything else, your daughter runs to you, climbing into your lap.

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, baby. You having fun?”

“Yeah! Stephy and Kya (Kyra) pway with me.”

“That’s so sweet of them.”

Leah watches your interaction with your daughter, a sad smile on her face.

“How old is she?”

“Hey, Rory. This is Mama’s teammate Leah. Can you tell her how old you are?”

“I free!” She holds up three fingers towards Leah.

“Woah! You’re so big! And you have a little sibling on the way. Can I ask how far along you are?” The question directed towards you.

“I’m five months along. It’s a boy.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you! Well, it’s been great catching up with you Leah. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

Leah watches you walk away, your daughter on your hip, towards your wife who was chatting up with a few teammates. She watches Alessia grab Aurora from you, giving you a smile and a kiss, seeing the love you two have.

Maybe in another life, one she hadn’t screwed up on , that could’ve been you and her, but she was just glad that you have someone who lived you the way you deserve to be loved.

Now, that she got everything out of her chest, she would be able to move on, but you’ll always be the one that got away.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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soupandsimple · 6 months

Text

Coach P. (with James Potter)

[ gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class ]

* simple fluff 💜

** muggle au

This was requested: see the ask here

……………………….

Knock knock knock

You looked over to the little window of your classroom door while in the middle of demonstrating to your students how to create clean, even coverage brush strokes with a paint brush and saw James Potter, the school’s gym teacher waving at you.

You smiled, held up your pointer finger informing him to give you a moment and continued on explaining the method.

“There, that easy” you said to the group of twelve year old children once you finished. “Now I want you all to practice this technique on the mosaic sheet designs you made yesterday. I’ll be coming around checking your progress in a bit,” you concluded.

As the kids stood up to gather their painting supplies from the back of the room, you went over and finally opened the door.

“Sorry for the wait” you apologized to James.

“No, no- you’re here to do your job. I have no trouble waiting around for you…here, I brought you these” he said, handing you a bag of fruit snacks that were carried in the school’s vending machines.

“Ugh, you know I can’t say no to fruit snacks” you admitted as you grabbed the bag. “I’ll just save them for later, it makes me sad to eat them with the students watching” you forced a little laugh as you set them on your desk.

“Such a thoughtful thing you are,” James half joked, half gushed.

“As are you coach Potter,” you playfully bantered back, resulting in a shared shy laugh as you each looked in different directions.

“No but seriously though James, thank you for the snacks,” you spoke in your normal tone of voice now, with a smile of gratitude on your lips.

Before James could reply, Lawrence, one of the more outspoken boys of his year, called out, “Hey coach P, why do you always come in here during our class?”

Some of the students laughed while others internally gasped and stared at each other with knowing looks, looks that told you they all speculated there was something between you and James.

“Uhh..well it’s my free period Lawrence,” James replied back as casually as he could.

“Yeah but you like always come in here, can’t you go home during your break or take a nap?”

“No, work is still work. I can’t leave the school and I certainly can’t sleep.”

“That sucks Coach…I bet you still look forward to your free period everyday anyways don’t you?” Lawrence said with three comical eyebrow wiggles.

A group of girls giggled and even you wanted to laugh at the fact that James was being called out by a twelve year old but luckily you were able to contain your lips in a subtle smile.

A red hue quickly spread across James’s cheeks as he let out an airy chuckle, “Okayyyy Lawrence, enough of that. Why don’t you get back to your work.”

Lawrence shrugged and went on about his business.

What the students didn’t know was that during the summer, James and you had been set up on a blind date by mutual friend Remus Lupin but that once you met and found out you’d be working at the same school that year, you both decided it’d be better to keep things simple and just be friends. The feelings between you two, however, were undeniable and it was really only a matter of time before you both accepted you were not meant to limit yourselves to a friendship.

“Well, I should go,” James said pointing to the door with both hands then walking backward towards it to keep an eye on you. “But oh, hey, you going to Rem’s birthday dinner tomorrow night?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Good, um me too. I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah, see you there,” you assured him happily with a little wave goodbye.

James smiled and cutely saluted you in exchange of a wave and as he walked out of the door, Lawrence eagerly shouted out …

“Have a good weekend coach P!”

… to which James pretended not to have heard and kept on his way without a look back.

Naturally though, he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped his lips as he exited, just as your lips did the same inside because you both knew you’d be getting to see each other outside of school hours for a change; and well, that certainly made for a good weekend. <3

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fic

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jazziejax · 13 days

Text

The Challenge

Pairing- BlackOC! X Challengers Cast

Summary- moments between Orion O’Connor and the Challengers cast that the people loved

Warnings- swear words, flirtatious between costars

Author’s Note- This sucks raccoon ass, it’s 2am, and I haven’t written in a very long time so cut me some slack, I beg you! I’m gonna write for Challengers at some point but I’m waiting because I want to write a series and I’m gonna need it on streaming services to do that(because I already paid to see it twice). But I’ll probably write some one-off things for you guys. Sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes. As I said, it’s 2am.

Word Count- 2,686

“So, I have to ask.” The woman interviewer said, mainly looking over at Orion. Said girl’s expression went from calm to suspicious as she turned her head and side eyed the woman. The interviewer was about to open her mouth to speak again before Orion lightly gasped as she faced forward again.

“Let me guess.” She stated, leaning forward in her seat. Everyone paused, waiting for the girl to speak. “You’re gonna ask if we’re married.” She said, her left index finger motioning between her and the British man next to her. The woman’s mouth fell open a little bit as she stared at the brown woman across from her.

“How’d you know that?” She asked, genuine surprise in her voice. Orion slightly nodded as she adjusted herself in her seat. She crossed her right leg over her left and her body was slightly tilted to where she leaned Josh’s way. “Everyone has the same look in their eyes before they ask.” She shrugged. The tension of such a question could be felt throughout the room but also on social media. Fans went crazy with this clip, seeing the obvious signs that Orion was tired of such a question and was getting bad at hiding it. Some people called her rude while others defended her saying the interviewer was bad at her job for asking the same thing they already know the answer to.

“I just wanted to know how you guys felt about such rumors going around about you two?” The interviewer asked. Orion looked over at Josh, seeing if he wanted to give the question a go. Said man glanced down a little to make eye contact with the woman next to him before turning to the woman in front of him. “Um, the rumors don’t necessarily bother me. Not anymore at least.” He stated. “People have been saying this since the beginning of our careers, almost, because we became friends right before and have been for so long. So, I guess it just seemed like we were married?” Josh said with confusion written all over his face, his tone rising at the end since he was more so asking a question.

Orion dry chuckled as she watched the man deliver the answer she was tired of giving. “I say it’s rather flattering, in a sense, that people think we are married. Because Orion is an amazing woman that anyone would be lucky to call a wife.” He finished softly, glancing over at the woman next to him. “But no, we’re just best friends with the same name.” He said, visibly pink in the face as he continuously glanced at the woman next to him.

With the new craze of Challengers, every cast member gained new fans along with the one they already had and all were tuned in on their press tour. Social media went crazy over Josh and Orion, new fans because of their on and off screen chemistry while old fans were just excited to see the pair in another project together.

Orion made a cute pout at his words, her face heating as she looked at him in his blue eyes. Her big eyes reflected the fluorescent lights above them as she stated into his. “He’s too sweet for his own damn good.” She said in a sad tone as if she was crying. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a split second before raising it and dropping her façade. “Let me just say this.” She started, sitting up straight in her seat. Zendaya and Mike, who felt as if they were third wheeling the whole time, chuckled at her. “I don’t understand why I keep getting asked that when it could be easily answered by taking a look at my hand.” She said, showing her left hand. She used her right index finger to rub her left ring finger as she stared directly into the camera lens. “I do not have on a ring.” She said, shaking her head. She grabbed ahold of Josh’s and and held it up. Before she could even speak, her cast mates burst out laughing, knowing she was very riled up, which was quite amusing.. “He does not have on a ring.” She then looked back at the interviewer. “I would never do such a thing. I would be mad at Josh if he allowed me to do such a thing.” She stressed. “And I would also never let him or any man disrespect me in such a way. Isn’t that right?” She asked, looking over at the British man next to her. Josh immediately nodded.

“Correct.”

The initial context of video was ignored once clips hit other media sites. All people could talk about was the sheer amount of times Orion and Josh caught the other one staring. And if not them then the camera caught it. They all went feral over the last line, finding the way she demanded an answer out of him attractive and the way he answered her immediately. The compatibility between the two could be felt through the screen. Many edits were made out of the two and their characters, Dion and Patrick.

For backstory, Orion and Josh have been friends for many years. Meeting each other on the set of The Durrells where Orion was the only American that used an English accent for an obscene amount of time to play her character ‘Daisy’. They were only together in a couple of scenes but off screen, Josh and Orion became good friends. They grew even closer when Josh moved in with Orion when she went back to America. He would be staying for a while for work and Orion wanted the transition to be easy for her friend since he was such a big help for her in Europe, so she offered him a room in her New York flat. That’s when the rumors started. Seeing pictures of this pair of up and coming actors with the same last name, doing activities and living together. They blushed and joked at the rumors at first but after a while it started to get pretty annoying.

This being brought up again, fans started researching for old pictures of the two and they couldn’t get enough of the pair. Pictures of them holding pinkies as they walked around New York. Most of them from the same day as Orion showed him all of her favorite spots. There were pictures of them on the subway reading a book together. Pictures of them on visiting each other on set when they worked on different projects. So many pictures for the fans to choose from.

A while later in another interview, the energy seemed to be more prominent between them all.

“Do you think is most like their character?” The interviewer asked them. All of them immediately pointed at Orion, who even pointed at herself. Seeing that they all had the same idea, they laughed at one another. “Why is that? What makes you like you’re character?” He questioned again.

“Um, it’s actually funny because they changed things around for Dion once I was casted for her.” Orion started. “Her name was changed for be more boyish after I was casted because Luca and Justin liked the contrast of such a sweet and feminine character with a “boys” name.” She stated, doing air quotations around the word boy. “They did a lot of tweaking to the script after I was chosen for…whatever creative reasons they have.” She chuckled, waving her hands to indicate she didn’t know why but it was slowly up to them.

“I would hope I would be the most like my character because it’s almost based off of me at this point.” She shrugged. “But I would say I'm most like her in the way I love and express myself. In the movie, Dion is very physical with her friends which I tend do to be.” She chuckled to herself. Mike nodded his head next. She looked over at him, her smile big on her face as she blushed out of embarrassment. “Oh yeah, she’s like a baby koala. Or a sloth.” He started, seeing that the attention was on him. Everyone laughed. “She was always on top of someone in between takes. She falls out when she laughs, and she’s always sleeping.” Mike said, sitting up in his chair as he listed, his voice showing mock annoyance. Orion covered her face in embarrassment, leaning her head back as she laughed.

“I’m sorry, okay! This is just how I am!” She shouted. After a while of everyone laughing, they calmed down and sat still in their seats. “I see where my affection is not wanted.” Orion said sassily as she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and leaned away from Mike. Mike groaned at her dramatic behavior and rolled his eyes too, doing the same as her. Seeing this, Orion softly scoffed at him. “Art wouldn't treat me this way.” She joked, causing laughter to fill the room again.

“Why do you guys say Orion is like Dion? Where do the similarities lie in your eyes?” The interviewer asked. Mike was the first to answer.

“I say she’s like Dion in the way she stated, herself .” He said, gesturing over to Orion. “Dion is a very loving and passionate character. You see that in the way she treats her friends, and in the games she plays. She doesn’t play for competition , she plays for the feeling it gives her. Like in the scene where she goes against Tashi, it didn’t cause them any strife because she doesn’t see it as ‘who’s better’, she sees it as a relationship and almost a way of communicating.” He said. “I see that a lot in Orion because she doesn’t really communicate through words, she communicates through her actions, in real life and within a character.” He finished. There was a moment of silence as everyone sat with what he said. Mike quickly looked around the room at the silence before looking over at Orion.

“Aww, Mikey.” Orion said as she pouted and leaned over to give him a side hug, placing her head on his shoulder. Breaking the tension in the air, the room chuckled. “He knows me so well.” Orion spoke up, placing her cheek against his with her hand on the other side of his face, smushing them together. They both smiled, feeling their cheeks mush together.

Fans were already in the Art Donaldson/Mike Faist train before they even saw the movie and especially afterwards. During most of the press tour the cute moments were between Josh and Orion and Zendaya and Orion, since the girl has previous history with them. But when Orion and Mike had their cute moments, fans almost felt like they were in love.

It was admitted in an interview Mike had without the whole cast he really admired the work Orion did before he formally met her. He first saw her on the comedy show Community. He found her really funny there and could tell her chemistry with the cast was impeccable. But her acting skills really shined to him when he saw her in Fleabag and The Handmaid's Tale. When he heard that she was going to be in the movie with him, he had a fanboy moment to himself for a few hours before calming down. Little did he know that Orion admitted herself in a solo interview that she used to have a crush on Mike after first seeing him in Dear Evan Hanson. She said that even though she hated that musical, she watched it for him. That’s also why she went and saw Brokeback Mountain live. Fans loved hearing this information, the Art and Dion edits having a mega surplus afterwards. Their interview moments together were cute but people mainly loved their red carpet interactions, Orion either bullying him for what he had on or the way he posed. She never let him live.

Another moment that went viral was their interview talking about intimate scenes together.

“Was that awkward to do with your best friend?” The journalist asked Orion.

“No, because we’ve done that before.” She answered quickly, not thinking of what she said. Zendaya’s head snapped to her, eyes a little wide as she gave the girl next to her a questionable glare. Mike raised his eyebrows while Josh tried to hide his laughter, and his red face, behind his hands. Seeing the reactions she got around the room, Orion chuckled before trying to save herself. “Not like that. I just mean I’ve seen him naked before.” She defended no better. Now all you could hear was the laughter of her cast mates. Mike and Z leaning on one another as they laughed while Josh put his head in his hands. “You guys know what I mean. We’ve done things like this before.” She continued to try to defend herself. Seeing her get nowhere, Josh placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at the cute smiling British man next to her, unconsciously smiling along with him.

“What? Tell them this isn’t something new for us.” She demanded the man. Josh placed his large hand on top of hers that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Our characters in The Durrells were in a relationship. That’s what she means.” Josh said, his face still red from trying to hold in his laughter. And blushing.

“The real question is, did you enjoy it?” Orion asked, looking over at the man next to her. But before he could speak, Mike spoke first. “Oh, I enjoyed it.” Mike joked. “Art and Dion were like rabbits at Stanford.” He emphasized.

“Her and Patrick were pretty wild too.” Zendaya said. “

“I think Dion was just like that with everyone, honestly.” Josh said. At that, Orion turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that supped to mean?”

“No, byy everyone I mean, Tashi, Art and Patrick.” Josh rushed out, looking her right in the eyes. That’s something the fans caught into a lot. Whenever Orion looked his way, he would never break eye contact. No matter how many times she glanced off to the side or down at her hands playing with his, he never took his eyes off her face, especially when she was speaking. “Which is quite interesting when you take into account Dion was almost in control of everything.” He finished.

Orion immediately rolled her eyes and turned away from him. . Before she could say what she was going to, her other cast mates spoke in agreement. “100%.” Zendaya said.

“I’m not about to have this conversation again.” Orion spoke. “Dion is innocent and she was done wrong.” She said, looking directly into the camera.

“Dion played everyone.” Mike said.

“Like a game of tennis.” Josh finished, a small smirk on his lips. His eyes never left Orion, as if he was waiting for her to turn around. Mike and Zendaya groaned at him while Orion turned to him, a smile on her face when she looked his way. “That was so corny.” She said through her laughter that increased the more she thought about the terrible joke. Oriron loved a bad joke that was delivered kind of awkwardly. The rest of the interview consisted of small moments between Josh and Orion. Jim raising his hand to play with her dangling earring when Mike was talking. Her pinkie wrapped around his when both of their arms rested on their chairs.

Needless to say, the people loved Orion O’Oonnor and were on the edge of their seats to get more of her.

oconnorschildren

liked by, joshoconnorstoe, orionstar, and 36, 792 more

oconnorschildren you mean to tell me that this is Josh O’Connor and Orion O’Connor when they lived together???

view 3,944 comments

zendayacollective sups cute!!! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

mikeyfaist they look like a couple

orionstar and they’re wondering why people assumed they were married 🙄

⤷ oconnorschildren right! they act in love and get mad at us!

⤷ joshoconnorstoe they should just get married

tomdayaofficial I don’t know who I want her with more, Josh or Mike

⤷ oconnorschildren me neither, she’s has such great chemistry with both! I love her with them!

liversometennis I can’t wait until challengers is on streaming services so I can’t watch her kiss them all day everyday

zendayastwin I wish people would post the moments between her and Z, they are so cute together. Small hints of flirting but amazing friends.

⤷ oconnorschildren I’ll post some in the future because they are cute together!

#challengersmovie #challengers #art donaldson #tashi donaldson #tashi duncan #zenday coleman #zendaya #josh o connor #josh o'connor #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #mike faist #jazziejaxwriting #jazziejaxchallengers

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sc0tters · 7 months

Text

Miscommunication Efforts | Nico Hischier

summary: when Nico finally realises how much his family mean to him.

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.31k

authors note: I was in a soft mood tonight and picked a prompt that let me write for a player of my choice (so let’s thank Luna for this one). Dad Nico is not a phase, it is a way of life.

pt 2

You could feel Nico slipping away.

Days felt longer as the time you spent with him decreased. The captain spent every waking moment that he could at the rink. A habit he had each time he came back from an injury and usually you were willing to stand by and let him go through this.

But this time you couldn’t, not when Rosie was around. She was your little seven month old baby girl who was the absolute light of your life.

Now Nico was a great father, you loved how he was with Rosie. But these last few days it felt like he didn’t care about either of you as he’d leave before you woke up and he’d only come back when you were too tired to keep your eyes open.

Jack had been over twice since it all started as he wanted to make sure that you were both okay. The Hughes boy could tell that his captain had something on his mind beyond just the game and family.

You decided to spend the day in New York with some of your friends as the girls hadn’t seen you or Rosie in weeks. Of course you sent Nico a message telling him that you two weren’t going to be at home for most of the day but what you didn’t expect was that when you eventually did come home Nico would be pacing around the apartment in a panic.

He walked up and down with his phone in his hand as he rambled to his mother about something in German. When he locked eyes with you it seemed that relief ran through his veins “she’s home.” Nico blurted out before he quickly hung up.

Rosie giggled as you bounced her on your hip “where the hell were you both?” Nico groaned as he practically pulled her from your arms.

You furrowed your eyebrows “I literally told you we were out-” you tried to remind him of it but he clearly didn’t seem interested in hearing your words “you took our daughter to New York for the day and didn’t even ask me if I was okay with that!” The hockey players loud voice caused Rosie’s lip to quiver.

It made you glare at your boyfriend “look it is sort of hard to treat you like her father when she hasn’t seen you in a week.” Your voice was soft as you tried to get Rosie to calm down “I’ve been busy with the team.” Nico tried to defend himself hit you weren’t having any of it “the same team that has been over to see your daughter?” You crossed your arms only opening them when Rosie reached out for you to take her again.

The silence began to overwhelm you as Nico looked like a child who had been caught in the act “I’m going to go give her a bath.” You announced letting out a sigh as you walked in the direction of the bedrooms before Nico could say anything.

Rosie seemed totally unaware of your defeated state as she focused on her rubber ducky “da!” She giggled looking up at the door. You turned your head to see Nico watching you both “want to sit?” You asked shifting up slightly as you made space for him.

Nico nodded as he joined you on the floor smiling as Rosie stared at him with her hair full of shampoo “mein kleiner Kürbis.” The hockey player cooed reaching out to tap her nose.

She looked at her father was the only man in the world as she made a small noise in response as her nose scrunched “why don’t you go relax schatzi?” Nico asked turning his attention to you.

The look on his face was guilty as though he realised how little he had seen of you both “I think mommy deserves time without us.” The grin Rosie sent him was one you’d remember forever as it warmed your heart “mommy is going to go have a bath of her own.” You explained bringing your hands into the water to wash away the soap that was on them “I’ll see you in there.” You pressed a kiss onto Nico’s head as you got up leaving them alone as all you heard was the sound of Nico telling her some story in German.

In the bathroom of your bedroom the chaos of the smaller bathroom had not seeped into yours. You lay in the bubbles almost falling asleep as the smell of lavender and rose soothed your mind.

“Schatzi?”

The knock at the door pulled your attention away from the oasis of peace that you had formed “come in,” you called out turning your head to the door.

Nico’s head appeared as he locked eyes with you “I just put her to sleep.” He explained sitting down in a similar position to what he was in when he bathed Rosie.

You nodded “I’ve been shitty to you both.” Nico blurted out making you smile “that’s one way to put it.” You giggled as the boy brought his hand into the water to splash you.

It made his heart warm “we have to win the game and Rosie started calling Jack dad before me an-” you raised your hand to stop him “she called Jack dad?” You furrowed your eyebrows almost wanting to be amused by this.

The hockey player nodded “she called him da,” it made his cheeks turn red as he was embarrassed by the fact that his teammate got called dad before he did.

But it made him feel worse when you laughed “hand me my phone,” you pointed to the device on the table. You were quick to unlock it clicking on a video.

The soft sounds of ABBA played through your speakers as you bounced Rosie on your lap letting both of you move along to the music “you like ABBA baby?” You smiled as she nodded “da da,” Rosie wrapped her hands around your fingers as she frowned hearing the music change to something that Nico had picked.

You laughed seeing her expression change “less daddy music more ABBA?” You asked as she nodded making you skip the song.

Nico watched the clip twice over before he looked back up at you “well now that makes me feel like a real idiot.” He confessed pushing his lips into a fine line “yeah.” You nodded placing your phone back on the table as you looked at him.

He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear “I don’t know why you put up with so much from me.” The hockey player sighed frowning as you looked at him with so much love “because I love you.” It was clear that you did “Rosie does, Boo will.” The second mention confused the boy.

You smiled as you scrunched your nose “surprise?” You shrugged as he quickly point the pieces together “we’re having another?” Nico gasped letting his jaw drop “Rosie picked the name and we were gonna tell you-” your ramble was cut off as Nico kissed you.

It was soft and full of love “I’m so sorry you couldn’t tell me earlier.” Your hand held his “you’re here now.” You squeezed his fingers as you looked at him.

The moment was one you two were bound to remember “baby I need you out of there so I can hug you.” Nico’s words made you laugh “last time I checked this bath was big enough for the two of us.” You shot back watching as he pulled his shirt off of his back.

All you wanted this entire week was the contact that your boyfriend gave you. Rosie needed her father but so did you. Pregnant or not, you missed your boyfriend and we’re glad to have him back.

“I’m here baby, just how you want me.”

#nico hischier imagine #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier x y/n #nhl oneshots #hockey imagine #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

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lanabuckybarnes · 2 months

Text

Always.

This is a sequel to Empty Words. I had someone ask for it and I was also thinking of writing one so here it is. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as the first part but I hope it’s up to your standards.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none?? If you see any plz lemme know and I’ll add them.

Words: 1.1k

EMPTY WORDS

"How long has it been?"

"70 years."

The words replayed in her head constantly. It had been a year since that day, since she’d woken from her Cryo-sleep. Steve sat by her side telling her it was no longer 1945 but much later, she shouldn’t even be alive.

Tony, Howard Stark's son, had been generous enough to offer her a place to stay at the compound. She had been fed by the girl, Wanda, every day and they gave her peace since she so desperately needed it.

She never got to grieve for Bucky, not long after Steve told her of his passing, she was captured. For some Hydra experiments, according to the guy who turned green.

She still had Bucky’s jacket. She’d woken up with it wrapped around her frame, and she refused to take it off. It was the only part of him she had left.

A knock sounded throughout the room. "It's me, I've got dinner," Steve spoke from the other end of the door, his voice slightly muffled by the thick wood.

"Come in." She spoke, her words monotone and quiet.

He set the tray of food down on the bed, pasta and sauce. Wanda’s favourite. He picked up on her gloom quite easily, it must have been a perk of the super soldier serum.

"Are you alright?" Steve questioned softly, a reassuring hand rubbing her shoulder clad in the dark military jacket. He watched as she picked at the food but never put any of it near her mouth.

He knew better than to push people to talk about their feelings, he hated it when people did it to him.

They had both bonded over Bucky. In the 40s, they never really got the chance— he was too busy being Captain America, and she was too busy saving people's lives away from the frontline. He had never really spoken to her, he knew a bit about her from his old friend’s stories but besides telling her about Buck he’d never really seen her himself. In the past year though, the two had become good friends.

"It's... our anniversary, today." Her voice was small, like the squeak of a mouse, almost as if speaking any louder would scare him away. Steve didn't know how to answer. He was an excellent soldier and had always been great with words, but even he became tongue-tied at the mention of Bucky.

He blamed himself, he could have done so much better than what he did. Countless nights he stayed awake wondering how he could have changed the past, how he could convince Tony to invent some contraption and put himself in Bucky's place. Maybe he would have survived the fall.

"I'm sorry," Steve's voice mimicked her own. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame in a warm embrace, the only form of comfort he could truly give her at that moment.

She cried into his arms that night. When he eventually left she’d flopped her weak body onto the large bed that was far too comfy. She tossed and turned with Bucky's coat, hoping, wishing that dreaming hard enough would bring him back.

The compound was under attack, she had strict orders to stay in her room. Steve had warned her, promised that he’d keep them away from her but passed her a pistol as a last resort.

She could hear the sounds of bullets flying around, hitting walls and people. She felt helpless just sitting on the wide windowsill watching the world go by, what could she truly do though?

Just as a dark feathered bird flew by her window the hairs on her neck stood on end— there were eyes on her, someone stood at her door. She mentally cursed herself for setting the gun on the bedside table.

The presence stalked forward, till his thigh bumped her shoulder. Her head tried to turn to him but the feeling of coolness; a metal hand, spread over the top of her head and turned her back to face the window slowly.

The cool fingers dropped to the side of her face, tucking a few loose stands behind her ear. Was he trying to torture her? or was she finally receiving a final act of kindness before the sweet release of death? Her eyes squeezed tight in preparation, no matter the outcome she would not watch.

Death never came, no, instead the soldier flopped his large body down beside her. He was still as rigid as before, she could feel as much from the way his arm brushed against hers.

When she finally turned to look at the face of the last man she’d ever see, her killer— the muscles around her eyes pulled them wide and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes, although obstructed by dark locks of her, emulated hers, shock evident in those deep blues along with the reflection of something she knew danced in hers— Recognition.

“B-Bucky?” She hadn’t realised tears were falling from her eyes until she spoke, her voice breaking. His head nodded softly, almost unnoticeable and his eyes glazed over as well. After all these years they were both alive, and the past 70 years' worth of bottled-up emotions bubbled over. She pulled him forward into her arms.

The way his tired body slumped forward into her frame told her he’d faced a similar story, he’d been holding onto a lot too. She could see Steve’s frame standing in her doorway in shock from her peripherals but she couldn’t find the will to glance at him. Not when he was here, not when Bucky was home.

“You came back” she whispered into his hair.

“Always”.

“Bahhhh!” God those goats were impatient. It must’ve been around 6 am, and the Wakandan heat blared through the mud-coloured walls.

“BAHHHH” the goat wailed again, more desperate and demanding than before. A groan sounded from the man behind her, his arm pulling her close and his lips ghosting over her bare shoulder.

“You gotta get up and feed them” she whispered silently hoping they’d disappear and leave them in each other’s arms, at least for a little bit longer. The heat made their embrace almost impossible to withstand but she’d missed years' worth of closeness to him, some sun wasn’t going to stop her now.

His grumbling vibrated against her neck before he pushed himself up to sit. He was quite the sight shirtless, much more muscular than before. The soft blue fabric wrapping around his left side and over his shoulder complimented his skin perfectly.

“Fucking goats” he complained as he threw the deep red fabric over his body, doing as much as he could with one arm before shifting to her for help.

Her fingers moved expertly over the fabric as they did every day, fastening it to his body before pulling half of his long hair into a bun.

“Love you” Her breath blew between his shoulder blades, her lips pressing into the nape of his neck as she wrapped the thin belt around his waist from behind— she’d become so familiar with the routine she could secure it with her eyes shut. He couldn’t help the way his worries fell apart at her soft touch.

His body twisted to face her naked one, his right hand finding her left, squeezing tight before dropping his fingers to roll the thin gold band around her ring finger; a symbol of his promise fulfilled. The matching one secured around his neck.

Steel blues ran up from their joined hand to her face, searching for her own eyes, asking in silence for permission that she was glad to give him as she leaned forward locking their lips together in a sultry dance that mimicked one of the many they shared all those years ago.

“Bahhhhh” he growled into the kiss and she couldn’t help the bubble of laughter rising from her throat. He’d never get a moment's peace with his girl with those beasts around.

Tags: @matchat3a

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #mcu bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter solider x reader

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year

Text

those who serve.

Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.

Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.

His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.

Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.

Technically, Danny doesn’t exist.

He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets.

In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—

—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—

This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.

No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving.

Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.

He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.

Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something.

It’s all he has, these days.

There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster.

Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night.

He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head.

“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”

It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”

He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny.

Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street.

Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.

“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him.

“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.

I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe.

“Danny.”

“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”

“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”

The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says.

There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness.

His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes.

“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”

Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”

“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”

“Indeed. I shall be off then.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”

“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”

Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?

Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler.

It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them.

He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay.

It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.

Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here.

There’s no place for him at all.

Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.

Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down.

Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him.

It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.

“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”

Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.

Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air.

“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”

Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.

The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side.

“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning.

The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”

He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again.

A hand drops onto his shoulder.

“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”

He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away.

With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster.

He can handle a lot, but not that.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).

“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.”

Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily.

“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”

“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”

“I would like to—”

“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”

Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”

He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move.

“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”

Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.

They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city.

Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.

“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”

She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.

“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”

She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall.

Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college.

Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks.

“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks.

“You come here every day?”

“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”

He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents.

It was fine.

It didn’t last.

Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look.

“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”

Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea.

He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise.

This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind.

Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality.

She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen.

“Here, take your pick!”

Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”

Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food.

“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”

“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”

Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred.

It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him.

“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery.

Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day.

Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage.

The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help.

But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that.

He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money.

Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks.

Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.

“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously.

“And you have a place to stay?”

“Sure do,” he lies.

“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”

Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension.

Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night.

He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.

There’s no point in him sticking around any longer.

Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way.

Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.

This can’t go on, he realizes.

All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.

No more. This is a second chance.

There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be.

And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live.

Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.

He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling.

Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession.

The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan.

He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.

(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”

“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”

“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”

“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”

Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”

“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”

Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”

“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”

Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”

“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”

“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”

“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic #danny fenton #alfred pennyworth #my writing #fic #chapter one of three!! dont ask abt an update schedule. i dont have one and never will #i just want alfred to adopt danny. he found danny first in this one!!#i mean. bruce had to get it from somewhere #and that somewhere is alfred taking care of a child who suddenly became an orphan and had no one else #its a family trait really #butler danny au #alfred's apprentice au

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thewulf · 11 months

Text

Absolutely Gorgeous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Anyways what if they meet a teacher from base like she teaches at the school on base at the bar but she’s not drinking just hanging out! Like how do you think that would go? Read Rest Here

A/N: Back at it with my favorite man!! Hope you guys enjoy! As always, thank you for the request!!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k +

“Finally!” Your co-worker, Molly, squealed as she put the overflowing binder down on her desk, “Three months of freedom!”

Grinning you nodded your head along with her, “They’re not that bad, Molls.”

She had to suppress the eye roll she wanted to give you, “You had a class of little fourth grade angels. I had those sixth-grade demons all year long.”

Your laughter filled up Molly’s empty classroom, “Fair. They were probably my best class yet.”

She nodded her head, “Sometimes you get lucky like that. Was not my year.”

“Maybe next? What grade are you teaching anyway?” The two of you began to walk out of the building for the last time this summer. That was until you needed to get the decorations hung for the next school year.

She shrugged, “Haven’t been assigned yet.”

You nodded along thinking to yourself. The school on base was… tiny. Itty bitty. It was a miracle it even functioned. It was another miracle there were enough students to keep the place running. But they did. And it kept you employed. You’d only been teaching for the last three years, still trying to find your groove. You’d stumbled upon this job in your search and couldn’t believe it actually paid a decent wage. So, you took it and ran.

“Hey, are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight?” She asked once the two of you got to the almost desolate parking lot. Just your two cars and the principals left.

You shrugged, “Wasn’t planning to.” It’s not that you hated going it was just horribly overwhelming for you almost every time you went. It always ended the same damn way every single time. You’d get all dressed up, put too much makeup on and then get ignored. The friends you’d come with would always, always, find a man to talk to leaving you in limbo. It wasn’t for a lack of trying either. You tried so hard to just strike up a conversation with anybody only to be left or once again, ignored.

It hurt at first. Then you got used to it. You’d, unfortunately, had gotten used to being alone in a really crowded place. So, you just started going out with them less and less. You loved them. The group of friends you’d found in San Diego was like nothing you’d had before. You didn’t even think yourself as unattractive. It’s just when you stood next to them you’d looked incredibly average. Average and boring. Which was fine, it just got a little old when the hot pilot would be chatting up everybody but you.

“You should come!” Molly squeezed your bicep trying to convince you with a cheerful gaze crossing her eyes, “It’ll be so fun. All of the teachers are planning on coming!”

You had to bite your lip from the instant scowl that wanted to cross your face, “I’ll have to think about it.”

She shook her head, “That means no. Come on Y/N! Please?” Hey big blue eyes turned down as she gave you a silent pout.

It was really hard to say no to Molly. She was so kind, sweet and so damn infectious you just wanted to say, “Yeah, sure. I can come for a little. You know I don’t drink though, right?”

She nodded, “I know, it’s still nice to have you there. You keep our heads level and in check.”

You only laughed a little. You decided to call off drinking back in college. You’d had too many hospital visits for alcohol poisoning that even you got embarrassed. You just never seemed to be able to control yourself. You’d tried. For years you’d tried. But you’d always, always, without fail would take it one step too far. That’s when you decided to quit. You became an entirely different person that you hated when you drank.

“Somebody has to.”

She squeezed your arm. That’s who she was. She loved giving physical affection. At any chance she could she’d give a hug or squeeze an extremity. Only if you were comfortable with it though. She made sure of it though.

“I’m so glad you’re coming! We’re meeting at six. A bunch of pilots just got back from a mission too. Shelly told us last night.” She clapped all too excitedly.

Great. Just great. Hopefully Penny was working. That’d give you somebody to talk to. Giving her a slight head bob, you hoped it would come off as excited, “That’ll make for an interesting night.”

She shot you a wink, “You don’t know the half of it. Alright, see you tonight?” She headed for her car after stopping at yours to finish up the conversation.

“Yeah, see you tonight.” You hopped in your car already feeling the dread of tonight. You’d just leave before the sun set. That’s all you needed to do. It’d be alright.

You were already regretting committing once you parked your car. Maybe you could just bail now? Fake an illness? But then the literal two hours you spent getting ready would be for null.

Sighing you decided to just walk in. It’d be fine. You looked nice. Opted for a pretty floral sundress. It was far too hot to even contemplate putting shorts on. So, a dress it was. This time a sigh of relief escaped your mouth seeing Penny behind the bar with a few other bartenders.

“Y/N!” You spotted Molly waving at you frantically. The three girls already sitting at the bar with a drink in hand. They all looked beyond beautiful. It came naturally for Molly. You knew you were slightly jealous of the girl, who wouldn’t be though? Shelly brought her friend Erin. Who both looked stunning. It wouldn’t be long now before each girl would get plucked. Might as well enjoy the time you had with them all.

“Hey pretty ladies.” You hugged each one before sitting next to Molly. You jumped right into the conversation with the girls finding yourself quickly engaged with the drama Erin was telling the group about.

Not long after you finished your first soda Shelly was getting chatted up. That was quicker than normal. The sun wouldn’t even be setting for another few hours yet. Maybe you’d have to make your great escape far sooner than you planned too.

Being so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even heard the pilot slowly approach the bar next to you. He’d even ordered and all before he attempted to grab your attention. You caught Jakes attention almost immediately when he heard your friend call for you. He’d never been so entranced by somebody so damn quickly. He knew immediately he’d have to approach you.

He'd watched you for longer than even he’d care to admit. But how could you blame him? Your smile nearly took his breath away. His attention was so drawn away from the conversation that he didn’t even hear rooster make a snide remark. His eyes remained on you from across the bar. He was being beyond creepy, and he knew it. But for the first time in his life, he almost felt nervous at the thought of approaching you. Nervous of the thought of you rejecting him. He honestly didn’t know if he could take it. He’d never felt anything so strongly before without even talking to you.

“Whatcha drinking darlin’? I can get you another one.” Jake smiled softly. He’d decided to play down his usual overt flirtyness not wanting to scare you off. As often as it worked sometimes he did get turned down

You looked down at your glass realizing you were out. Then you decided to look at the face that the voice came from. He was handsome. So very handsome. That was without question. But he surely wasn’t talking to you. Nobody ever talked to you. So you turned away waiting to hear the conversation go on.

You waited a second not hearing a response but turning back to the pilot who was looking at you like he was waiting for an answer, “Me?” You’d asked with the utmost confusion.

He chuckled softly, “Yeah you. Who else?”

You peaked around and shrugged, “Not sure.” You’d admitted.

He brushed it off, “So? A drink?”

You nodded, he’s harmless you were sure of it, “Sure. Soda.”

A smile broke out onto his face as he tried to flag down a bartender, “Mind if I have a seat?” He asked you, not wanting to assume like he had so many times before. He had a feeling you were different. Whatever the hell that meant. But he knew one thing. He felt different. Nervous. Anxious.

You shook you head quickly. Almost on instinct, “No, not at all.” He didn’t seem to judge you in the least for your drink of choice. That often alienated people even further. What weirdo orders a soda at the bar? You. You did. You just pretended it was a jack and coke or something. It was easier that way.

You felt an elbow to your side. It had to have been Molly pushing you along. When you turned to snap at her she was walking away, waving, “We’re going to sit outside!” She winked knowing you were trapped. You were far too cowardly to run away so quickly so you decided to stay. But you felt far too cowardly to stay too. It had to be a sick joke or something now. Why would this gorgeous man want anything to do with you? Especially when Molly and Erin were right there.

“Thanks sweetheart.” He only smiled seeing you look straight ahead. Either you were shy or incredibly standoffish. He had to assume the earlier. Especially with how seemingly friendly you’d already been to him. It wasn’t all that often that beautiful women were shy Jake had noticed over time.

You nodded your head thankful your head decided to fall over your ear shielding the rising blush for him, “Sure.”

He sat down quickly turning himself towards you. This was going to be difficult he decided. He wanted to be forward, so you knew his intentions, but he didn’t want to be too much. Or worse, make you uncomfortable. He knew that there was no coming back from that. You just seemed shy though. Like you didn’t know how to proceed. So, he’d take the reins and steer the conversation.

“Haven’t seen you before. You from around here?” He tried to break the ice. He didn’t know if it’d creep you out. He’d never been this fucking unsure of himself and it was beginning to drive him mad already.

He seemed genuine you thought. Like he was actually trying to strike up a conversation. You’d still refuse to believe it was anything legit though. Likely a bet with the other khaki uniformed people in the corner of the bar.

Fuck it. May as well entertain it. Even if it was a joke at least it was a conversation. Not like you’d had your friends to fall back on, “Yeah, teach at the school on base. Live close by. Just don’t get out that much.”

He hummed contemplating what to say, “That’s too bad.”

“What’s that?” You asked him all too curious at what he meant.

He shrugged trying to play it off nonchalantly. It felt like he was in seventh grade all over again trying to learn how to flirt all over again, “Could’ve met you weeks ago darlin’” He grinned scooting ever so slightly closer to you.

Was he being serious? Even if he wasn’t you couldn’t stop the reaction that came with the conversation with him, “Well,” You decided it was time to be confident. What’d you have to lose? “I’m here now.” You finished wanted to suck in a breath. These flashes of confidence came around occasionally.

His smile turned down into a low smirk. His eyes darked just a tad as he leaned in. He took that as an invitation. You’d more than invited him in now, “That you are beautiful. And I am so thankful for that.” He almost whispered in your ear.

You still shivered. He was laying it on thick now. So would you. Or throw it back in his face, “Are you?”

He nodded, “Very. Means I can ask you out on a date.”

The laugh that left your mouth was inescapable. It had to be a joke. In your twenty-five years on this planet this had not once happened to you. It happened to all of your friends, sure, but not you, “Yeah, sure.” You voice was oozing sarcasm that wasn’t lost on Jake.

He tilted his head as he observed you, “What?”

“Is this some sort of joke or?” You looked around waiting for somebody to point at you, laughing. That’d be horrifying.

He shook his head, “Not at all sweetheart. Why would you think that?” He asked with all the sincerity lacing both his face and his expression.

You took a breath. Because nobody had ever done this before? Because why would he, the most handsome guy you’d laid your eyes upon, have any interest in you? Because this was the last thing you expected tonight. Not that you were against the thought. You just couldn’t believe it.

“No reason.” You tried to play it off as coolly as possible, but you knew you failed. You were fidgety and anxious. Not attractive at all.

“So, what do you say?”

You looked around. Why did he pick you? It just didn’t make sense. There were so many beautiful women. When you were constantly picked last it just didn’t compute when you were one of the first to be picked, “Are you sure?”

He studied your face before his smirk dropped into a frown, “Yes darlin’. I’m positive. Why do you keep trying to check?” He turned the question around on you.

“I mean, there’s women in here like Molly.” You pointed to your blonde friend who was sitting at a bench outside near the beach.

Ahh, that made sense to him. But it didn’t at the same time. You were beautiful too. Just as beautiful as the other women in the bar. If not even more beautiful. Something about you just got his mind going crazy and he wasn’t quite sure what the hell it was. But damn was he determined to figure it out.

He looked over to the girl you pointed to and shrugged, “She’s pretty but not really my type.”

You took your time looking over his features making sure he wasn’t lying to you, “Erin?”

His eyes flicked to the other blonde-haired girl you were pointing too. He shook his head, “I think you’re beautiful. She’s pretty but you’re… you’re absolutely gorgeous. What’s that mean?” He needed to get you to stop thinking about everybody else. He needed you to think about you. To stop comparing yourself. It had to have come from somewhere. Self-doubt always came from a place of neglect. Whatever it was he wanted to help you. Hell, he wanted to go on a date and then ten more with you already. He could just tell you were so layered, had so much to you. He was more than fascinated and needed to find out more. For the first time ever, Jake wanted to get to know the person he was talking to instead of getting into their bed.

It was slowly starting to click into place for you. Maybe he did actually find you attractive. He was certainly being adamant about it, “Really?” You were aware how cringy it actually was to look so daft and clueless. But on the other hand, you were genuinely mystified by the entirety of the situation. It’s not like you never ever got male attention. It just never came in this form. It always seemed to come with a catch.

His softer smile retuned as he reassured you, “Really. I’d love to take you out on a date…” His eyes went wide as he trailed off, “I don’t even know your name.” Looking away in slight embarrassment it was your turn to gain a little confidence now. You were pretty sure that he was actually into you. He was as handsome as ever. And he seemed a touch nervous to talk to you. This was your chance.

Returning his soft smile, you sat up a little taller in your barstool as you turned to him just a little, “Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeated committing it to his memory. He got that exiting feeling that you’d be in his life to come for a long while. Taking a second to really remember this moment in time. Your soft smile, the light blush that danced across your cheeks, the way the sunset seemed to gleam off your glistening eyes. He was a sucker already. He’d hardly known you, but he was ready to dive right on in.

You hummed taking a sip of the Diet Coke you’d ordered waiting on his name. You weren’t the most talkative in general, so this was a task for you, to say the least. Words never seemed to come all that naturally to you.

“Jake.” He leaned in closer feeling the pull.

“Jake.” You repeated just as he did, “You look like a Jake.”

His smile grew a touch, “Is that a good thing?”

You nodded your head, “I think it is.”

He was full on grinning now, “They say third times the charm. How about a date? Me, you, tomorrow, 5 PM?”

You had to admit you were more than a little excited to be asked. Let alone by him, “Sure, I’d be down.” You cringed internally at that. Why’d you accept like that? You were trying to come off cool not like a sixteen-year-old girl getting asked on her first date ever.

He pulled his phone out in lightning speed, “Well then darlin’, that calls for me getting your number.”

You’d have to put a pound of makeup on tomorrow from how much he was already making you blush. Taking his phone from his grasp you could’ve sworn you felt the butterflies explode when you touched his fingers with your own. With you unusually shaky hands you put your number in before handing the phone back to Jake.

Your phone chimed after he rattled off a text, “And now you have mine sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to admit how smooth that was but your cheeks flaming up gave that bit away. When you didn’t respond he knew he needed to, “As much as I want to stay and talk with you all night sweetheart. Your friends are staring, and I know mind are to. I’ll pick you up at 5?” he stood from the barstool next to you.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

He sent you another wink before grabbing his beer, “I’ll see you tomorrow gorgeous. Can’t wait.”

“See you tomorrow Jake.” You waved. With that you spun making a beeline for your friends who were nearly squealing by the time you made it to their table.

“Tell us everything!” Molly was smiling from ear to ear truly thankful you’d given somebody a chance.

Taglist: @loving-and-dreaming

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major-mads · 4 months

Text

Chapter 1: Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ruth has been living in my head for months now, and I'm so so so excited to share her with y'all! This series is Jess (footprintsinthesxnd) and I's brainchild. Our ideas just seamlessly fit tegether, and here we are! We actually wrote this first chapter a week before the 26th, so if anything happens to almost exactly match the show, we came up with it before we saw it on there! (we're just good like that 😎)

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 5.3k

The hum of the engine was the only sound in the C-47 as it soared over the English countryside. The patients had finally settled, and the morphine finally took effect and brought them some sense of relief. Hope slumped back into her seat with a sigh, smiling over at Ruth who looked as exhausted as she was.

“You looked tired,” Hope smiled at her friend who just sighed.

“It’s been a long day. I can’t wait to get back to base,” Ruth pushed her short blonde hair out of her eyes, sighing again.

“Hey Frank, how much longer have we got,” Hope called to one of the pilots.

“We’ve had to make a detour, doll. We’re heading to Thorpe Abbotts airfield and will evacuate the wounded to Thorpe St. Andrews Hospital. It’s not far now.”

Hope felt her heart flutter, her throat drying as she slouched back against her seat.

“Hey Hope, what’s wrong?” Ruth leaned forward, gripping Hope’s hand and squeezing it, her large blue eyes filled with worry.

“It’s Hugh,” Hope muttered, her eyes a little teary but a smile on her lips nonetheless. “My brother is stationed at Thorpe Abbotts with the 100th Bomb Group. I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Ruth’s concerned frown turned to a smile, “So I’m finally going to meet this Hugh I’ve heard so much about.”

Hope laughed, patting her friend on the back gently, “You will, but don’t get any ideas.”

The aircraft soared towards its destination, and the occasional jolting and shaking on the metal bird brought no fear to the flight nurses anymore. Once, the ratting metal coffin struck the fear of God into them but now this was a peaceful ride.

Hope watched out the window as the lush, green countryside grew closer and closer.

“Hey, Frank! Stop hugging the hedgerows for crying out loud. Don’t let the girl down before we’ve reached the field,” Hope called, grimacing as the trees seemed to grow ever closer.

“Who’s flying this bird, Armstrong? You or me?” Frank retorted, not looking away from the cockpit.

“Well, maybe you could use some lessons in keeping the old girl airborne then. We’ll beat up the airfield at this rate.”

Ruth laughed, watching Hope argue with the pilot once more, “You know Hope, maybe you should have gotten your wings. Then you could be flying us instead of Frank.”

“You’ve got a good point there, Ruth. Ya hear that Frank, Ruth wants me flying instead of you.”

Frank’s reply was a muffled curse, and both girls found themselves giggling in response. The plane tooled along for a while longer until it finally began to descend, rattling as it lost altitude and shaking its victims vigorously. The wheels touching down on the tarmac filled everyone with great relief.

“Well that was one ropey landing, Frank. Maybe I could give ya a few lessons?” Hope asked politely, batting her eyelashes at the pilot who just huffed.

“Shove off, Hope. Now get to it, your blood wagons are waiting.”

Hope cringed at the nickname the ambulances had been given, they were lifesaving vehicles transporting sick men, why make it sound so ominous?

Hope hopped down from the plane, instructing the stretcher-bearers on which soldiers were in the worst condition. Between them, Hope and Ruth helped carry three wounded men to the ambulances when an obnoxiously loud voice called, “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Hope spun round, her boots scuffing at the earth.

“HUGH!” Her brother laughed jovially, jogging over to them.

“Gosh, I’ve missed you, Little Bird,” Hugh threw his arms around Hope’s shoulders, nestling his head into her neck as he always did. Hope couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She was finally in her brother's arms, finally reunited with him after so long. She gripped tightly onto the back of his uniform, burying her face in his chest. He smelt of smoke and engine oil just like he did back home.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, just loud enough for Hugh to hear as he tightened his grip on her further. She could feel Ruth hovering awkwardly behind her and she turned to greet her friend, pulling out of her brother's arms.

“Ruth, this is my brother, Hugh. Hugh, this is my friend, Ruth.”

Ruth smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to shake Hugh’s but instead, he pulled her into a bear hug.

“Any friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine,” he assured Ruth and she smiled, her cheeks turning a deep red at the embarrassment of the situation.

“Hugh, put her down. Look, you're making the poor girl blush,” Hope laughed, which only caused Ruth to blush harder.

“My apologies Ruthie, where are my manners,” he bowed, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, uh- nice to meet you.” Ruth stumbled over her words, quickly using the excuse that she needed her flight jacket as an excuse to return to the plane.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Hope groaned, shoving her brother playfully in the ribs.

“I don’t know, I’ve always considered myself rather charming,” Hugh protested, puffing out his chest in pride.

Hope nodded, spinning around to call Ruth to join them. The blonde soon was walking back toward the group, now wearing her fleece aviation jacket, and to her relief, without a rosy dusting on her cheeks.

“I still can’t believe out of all the airfields in England, you managed to land at this one,” Hugh laughed, throwing an arm around both girls' shoulders. “You two are in for a real treat.”

As they walked through the base, Hugh pointed out the various hard stands.

“See, right there,” he pointed at a few heavies. “That’s “Just-a-Snappin’, Our Baby, and the M’lle Zig Zig.”

“Where do you guys get these names, Hugh?” Hope laughed, her eyes trailing over each one’s elaborate nose art, along with some very proud-looking engineers and artists who had clearly put so much love into the bombers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Hugh sighed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t tell ya. What’s your plane named?”

“Just the Angel of Death,” Hope chirped.

Hugh stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Always with the dark humor, aren’t you, Hope.”

After hearing so much about the man from Hope, Ruth felt as if she’d known Hugh for years when in reality she’d only known him for a few minutes. She knew the stories of how the siblings played in the woods of Columbia, Missouri, exploring the famous rock bridge that brought hikers and tourists into the town. She knew of his love for the St. Louis Cardinals, and how he wore his battered and dirty Dizzy Dean jersey for a week straight after they won the World Series in ‘31 and ‘34. Maybe he’d heard so much about Ruth from Hope that he felt the same way.

‘It would make sense based on his initial reaction.’ she thought, absentmindedly reaching up and grabbing the small pendant hanging from her neck, running her fingers over its smooth edges.

Before they knew it, the trio reached their destination: his officer nissen hut. They were long semi-circular metal huts, not known for their warmth or comfortability, but they were a soft place to land at the end of the day…which is a lot more than most young men of the time could say.

“Welcome to my humble abode, ladies,” he announced as they neared the building, holding out his arms in a ‘ta-da’ motion. “She’s not much, but she’s home.”

He began to open the door for them, but a voice in the distance stopped him.

“Charlie! No girls in the huts,” the voice called. “I told you that a few weeks ago.”

Turning toward the voice, Hope did a double take when she saw who its owner. Approaching them was a tall, tan, brunette, who wore a bomber jacket with his hair messily combed to the side. He walked with a swagger that instantly put a bad taste in Hope’s mouth.

She sighed to herself, thinking, ‘Why do all the cute ones have to be cocky?’

Hugh groaned, pointing at Hope. “Buck, come on, this is my-”

The man finally reached them, and Hope stopped herself from being captivated by his blue-green eyes.

“I don’t care who she is. You know the rules,” he interrupted, turning to the girls. “Sorry girls, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Ruth cringed and side-eyed Hope, already expecting a snarky response to his comment.

“Well,” she paused, checking her watch for effect. “Seeing as we have patients in the infirmary, it actually isn’t time for us to go.”

It was then that he looked down at her upper arm, taking in the bright red and white medic band that adorned her uniform. Ruth could see the slightest show of remorse in his expression as his eyes rose back up to Hope’s.

“My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t know-”

Hope didn’t let him finish, cutting him off. “Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, Buck.”

“Hope!” Ruth hissed, trying to placate her friend, but the woman ignored her.

“See, other than my brother, this is why I can’t stand airmen. They’re cocky-”

Realizing the flaw in Hope’s argument, Ruth ran a hand down her face, secondhand embarrassment filling her. Just when she was about to interject, Buck beat her to it.

“Now hold on. Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, sweetheart.”

Hope’s mind ran rampant with frustration, and she stared up at him with contempt as he smiled cheekily at her. His eyes were locked on hers as they had a stare-down, neither wanting to be the first to give in.

“So,” Hugh cleared his throat in an attempt to break their silent battle. “Let me introduce you guys. Ladies, this is my squadron commander, Major Buck Cleven.”

Buck tilted his head slightly, not breaking eye contact with Hope. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied dryly.

Ruth shook her head and sighed, amazed at her fellow nurse’s childlike stubbornness.

“And Buck, this is my sister, Hope, and her friend Ruth. They’re flight nurses with the 806th MAETS.”

Ruth raised a hand and waved with a quiet, “Hello,” and Hope felt a little satisfaction when the man’s eyes widened at the word sister.

Buck’s eys left Hope for a moment to acknowledge Ruth, who stood beside her, with a nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You, too, Major,” she responded with a small grin. He then turned back to Hope.

“So, you’re the infamous little sister we’ve all heard about?” Buck chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

The woman glanced over at Hugh, who wore a guilty expression. “All good things, I hope.”

“For the most part,” Buck chimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know about your little escapade to Kansas City, and how–”

Hope’s eyes widened in disbelief that her brother had divulged her most embarrassing moment. “Hugh!!” she cried, smacking his chest. “You lying piece of crap! You promised!”

“It’s not like I thought you’d ever meet anyone here, Hope!”

Composing herself, she took a deep breath and sent Buck a tight-lipped smile. “It looks like you know a lot more about me than I do about you, Major.”

“It would seem so, Nurse Armstrong.”

As Ruth amusedly listened to Gale and Hope’s banter, she felt like she was being watched. Glancing around the group, her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met another set of icy blues, ones that were new to the group.

‘How did I miss him walking up?’ she wondered.

Their gazes locked for a few seconds that seemed to last minutes, and a shudder ran through her. Breaking from his stupor, he quickly looked away with a light pink dusting on his cheeks. Ruth felt her own blush creeping up her neck and wrapped her flight jacket closer to her body, the English chill suddenly getting to her.

Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they fought to return to the handsome stranger. It took all her willpower to keep them on Hugh, who was talking to the group.

“I can’t imagine going up without weapons on board. We’ve got 12 50-cal brownings and sometimes I feel that’s not enough.”

The battle within herself became too much, and Ruth finally gave in to her temptation. Her eyes flitted over to the man, and she silently sighed in relief when she found his gaze elsewhere. It was then that she discovered her first assumption of the man being ‘handsome’ was an understatement. He had a strong and well-defined jawline, expressive and striking blue-grey eyes, a straight nose, and a slightly curved lip, which held a pencil-thin mustache.

She liked the mustache.

He wore a crooked crusher cap and a white fleece-lined flying jacket that looked somewhat dirty, accompanied by his brown service top poking out at the jacket collar.

Ruth was mesmerized by the man, and she didn’t even know his name. A wide grin broke out on his face as he engaged in the group’s conversation, his upper lip curling up, allowing a few teeth to peek out the top, and Ruth felt her stomach lurch for the second time in a short few minutes.

Focus, Ruth. Focus.

An elbow to her side broke her stare, and the group’s eyes were suddenly on her as Hope looked at her expectantly.

“What?” Ruth asked, looking like a deer in headlights.

“I said that we would go insane without each other up there.”

“Oh,” she sighed with a small smile. “You would probably kill Frank if I weren’t there.”

The group broke out in laughter, and Ruth found her eyes absentmindedly moving to the mystery man. As he chuckled, his eyes wrinkled at the edges, and his full smile revealed a dazzlingly straight set of pearly whites. His loud laughter was infectious, and a few giggles escaped her mouth.

As the group’s chuckles started to die down, Hope looked over at Ruth. She took in her friend’s shy smile and blush, then followed her gaze to the airman across the circle. Realizing what was happening, she nudged Ruth lightly, a teasing eyebrow raised.

“What?” Ruth grumbled under her breath, leaning closer to her friend’s ear as the guys carried on the group’s conversation.

“You like him.”

The blonde’s smile fell and heat rushed up her neck. “Who?”

Hope tilted her head incredulously, rolling her eyes. “You know who.”

“No, I don’t,” she defended,

“He’s staring,” Hope grinned, nodding his direction subtly.

Ruth’s eyes rose to his, and sure enough, his striking eyes were gazing into hers yet again. This time, however, he didn’t look away. The corner of his lips quirked up into a barely noticeable grin, and she felt as if she was shrinking under the intensity of his gaze.

“Uh, I need to go check on the patients,” she sputtered, pointing her fingers in the direction of the infirmary. With a curt nod to Hope, she quickly turned and started toward the infirmary, her blonde curls bouncing with each step. A few seconds later, she spun to face the group and called, “But it was…uh…nice to meet y’all.”

Hugh didn’t miss a beat and hollered back his reply. “You, too, Ruthie!” He then paused until she was out of earshot. “She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Hope sighed, used to her friend’s more timid personality. She had hoped that over time, her extroversion would rub off on the nurse, but so far, she had no such luck. Ruth was more of a one-on-one person, not one for groups of people unless she knew them pretty well. It seemed the smaller the group got, the more Ruth seemed to come alive. It was like pulling teeth to get Ruth to agree to go out with the other girls of the unit, but when she finally stepped out of her comfort zone, she usually had a good time filled with friends, fellas, and amazing big band music.

Ruth’s admirer joined the conversation, and Hope smirked, watching his eyes follow her friend. “How far away is your base?”

“We’re in Berkshire, so by car, it’s about three hours, but by plane, probably 45 minutes.”

“So not far,” he chimed, raising his eyebrows and nodding to himself. Before anyone else could comment, he spoke again.

“See you boys later,” he said absentmindedly as he watched Ruth’s figure go around a corner. Clapping Buck’s shoulder, he set off and followed the nurse’s path around the corner, missing the raised eyebrows and confused expressions sent his way. All eyes followed him as he, too, disappeared around the corner.

Hope pursed her lips at the new development, unsure of the man following Ruth. “Should I be worried?”

“Yep,” Hugh confirmed with a curt nod.

Buck hit him on the chest, chuckling under his breath. “Johnny’s a good man, darlin’.”

Hugh suppressed a snort thinking of the commander’s wild habits and how Buck didn't exactly answer her question.

“Anyways, back wh-”

And just like that, the conversation continued, and Hope had a strange feeling of contentment being on base. Finally being with family again.

As Ruth briskly made her way around the nissen huts to the infirmary, her heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest, and her mind replayed his smile non-stop.

Get it together, Ruth!

When she finally reached the infirmary, she stopped at the door, taking a deep breath to gain some composure. Within seconds of opening the heavy door, the base’s head surgeon approached her, wiping his hands with a rag.

“Hello,” he greeted. “I’m Captain Emory Kinder, and I’m assuming you’re one of the flight nurses who landed earlier?”

Ruth wore her signature toothy grin and nodded. “Yes, sir. Ruth Morgan. My other half is visiting with her brother as we speak.”

“Brother?”

“Yep, Hugh Armstrong,” she replied, her smile widening as his face lit up.

“Charlie! Oh yeah, I know him. He’s been in here for a few hangovers after a rowdy night in Dickleburgh.”

“Really?” Ruth chuckled, picturing the confident young man drunk as a skunk.

“Oh yeah. We love him though. He’s a good one for sure.”

A patient called out to him, and with a nod, he was off, helping the man. Ruth busied herself however she could, bringing airmen water, re-wrapping their bandages, and pretty much anything that would get her mind off the man from earlier. She was inspecting a man’s arm wound when the creaking of the door opening filled the building. Paying it no mind, she kept working, noting how the tissue was already healing.

“It looks good, Sergeant. You should be back in the air soon,” she said quietly.

His wide-eyed morphine-induced expression looked pitiful, but he managed to mumble out a, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ruth gathered her supplies and stood to her feet, throwing away the bloody bandages when Emory's voice rang through the air.

“Speaking of rowdy nights in Dickleburgh...Major, what can I do for ya? Is that shoulder giving you problems again?”

“No, Doc,” the newcomer began, his deep voice breaking the relative quiet. “The shoulder’s fine. I just wanted to, you know, come see the boy-men.”

When she turned toward them and saw the white jacket, the roll of bandages fell from her grasp and hit the floor with a thud, rolling a few feet away to the man’s feet. The heat returned to her cheeks in a rush, and her eyes froze on the bandages for a moment, silently cursing the little white bundle. She watched in horror as the man slowly bent down and picked it up, walking toward her as he threw it up in the air and caught it.

“I think this yours,” he said, one side of his lips quirking up into a smirk as he held it out to her.

Raising her eyes from the bandage to his eyes, she prayed her voice would stay steady. “Thank you, sir.”

She took the bandage and tried to remain calm, her free hand raising to run her fingers over the cool metal of her locket.

“John. Major John Egan,” he introduced himself, extending his hand to her. “But you can call me Bucky.”

Ruth’s brows furrowed in confusion as she took his much larger hand and shook it gently. It was surprisingly soft compared to the men she’d treated from the lines. “Bucky? It’s there another-”

“Yeah,” John chuckled and slowly released her hand, shoving his in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “We call Cleven Buck, too. He hates it, but he deals with it.”

Grimacing playfully, she decided to go out on a limb despite her pounding heart. “Well, I, um, don’t know if I’ll be able to remember who’s who.”

“Oh no,” John tutted, his eyebrows raised and a wide-mouthed smile painting his lips. “We can’t have that. You can call me John, Johnny, whatever you want, doll, but I don’t think you’re going to have a hard time remembering my name.”

“And why would that be, Johnny?”

“Because you’ll see it at the bottom of each letter you’ll get from me.”

The blonde froze, dropping her necklace in disbelief as she swallowed thickly.

‘There is no way he just said that,’ her mind repeated. ‘There is no way he just said that.”

Pushing through her reserved personality and the tingling sensation swirling in her stomach, she decided to take a page from Hope’s book.

“What makes you think I’d let you write me, hotshot?”

Her mind went haywire. ‘‘Why did I just say that? I’m never taking Hope’s advice again. This is too stressful.’

For the first time in their interaction, his confident bravado seemed to fade and he didn’t quite know what to say. Perhaps he was always used to women giving in to his advances easily, but Ruth was not just another woman begging to be wooed. Johnny stood before her with furrowed brows, his upper lip sticking out slightly. He pushed back his jacket and placed his hands on his hips, his head ducking to the floor.

“Because I’d like to get to know you,” he replied earnestly, taking off his cap. “You’re gorgeous, and I would like to write you, Ruth.“

That was the last thing she expected.

In that moment, Ruth Morgan had a decision to make. Was she going to reject the airman or give him a chance? She knew she was attracted to him and there was chemistry there, but was she willing to put herself out there? The timid parts of her personality screamed at her to tell him no, but the parts that Hope had influenced were urging her to accept his offer. In the end, Ruth already liked Johnny, and she saw the sincerity in his statement as a deciding factor in the matter.

“Alright, you can write to me,” she answered quietly, pushing her hair behind her ear.

John watched as she walked to the infirmary desk and got a sheet of paper, scribbling down what he expected to be her address. He took in her features, just like he had earlier. Starting at her light blonde hair, his gaze traveled down her face to her familiar blue eyes, down her adorable nose, to her lips, which were pursed slightly as she concentrated on writing down her information. She was stunning, and Johnny knew that he wanted to see her again just from their short conversation.

Approaching him again, she held up a slip of paper, a toothy grin on her lips. “This is sensitive information, Major. It better not end up in enemy hands, and that includes your fellow airmen.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded once before fake saluting her, unable to keep his excitement inside. “Mission understood.”

“But just to be safe, I’m going to hold onto it for a little bit.” she leaned a little closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just in case I, you know, change my mind.”

John grinned down at her and yet again raised his eyebrows as he nodded. Ruth noticed he did that a lot. “I’ll be on my best behavior, scout’s honor.”

Sliding the slip into her pocket, she started her nursing tasks once again, looking at him over her shoulder. “So, you were in the Boy Scouts?”

“No,” he chuckled, putting back on his cap as he moved next to Ruth to help. “I wasn’t, but Buck was. He ended up being an Eagle Scout before he aged out. One of the best in Wyoming, he says, but I don't buy it.”

He stood a good 5 or so inches above her, so his chin was at her eye level. In the small area at the nursing station, his shoulder was just barely pressed against hers as they both worked to roll bandages, and Ruth could feel the warmth radiating from his touch.

“It seems like you know each other pretty well,” she stated, looking up at him briefly.

His concentration remained on the bandage in his hands as he spoke. “Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

“How long have you known each other?” She asked, reaching up to mess with her necklace.

“We both joined up in ‘40 and were roommates in basic. Been together ever since.”

“That reminds me of Hope and I, although we haven’t known each other for nearly that long.”

John placed the finished bandage in the basket and turned to face her, leaning a hip against the counter as his earnest expression returned. “War makes people closer. Makes ‘em realize who’s important. What’s important.”

The blonde mirrored his stance, taking in his words. He was right. War did have a way of bringing people together. She gazed up at him with a shared understanding of how something as terrible as the war had brought out the best and worst in people, as well as brought people into their lives for the better. The pair’s eyes remained locked for a few moments, both realizing that perhaps there was something deeper than the flirting between them. His warm eyes seemed to search hers, and to her surprise, she didn’t feel nervous in that moment. Johnny’s gaze was like a warm blanket enveloping all of her senses to the point that all she could see was him.

“I feel the same way,” Ruth finally answered, fixing a stray curl that had fallen into her eyes.

Half of his lips curled up in a grin and he took a step toward her. “Ruth, I-”

The loud opening of the door jolted them from the moment, sending both their heads in the direction of the entrance. There stood an out-of-breath Frank, whose face was bright red and shimmering with sweat.

“Ruth! Do you know how long I’ve been looking for ya?” He cried, approaching them quickly.

Unsure of the man’s intentions, Johnny straightened and moved just barely in front of her, holding out a hand towards Frank. “Woah, buddy.”

Although it was an endearing effort, she couldn’t hold in a loud giggle at Frank’s offended expression that followed. “No, Johnny,” she laughed, gently lowering his hand. “This is our pilot, Frank. Frank, this is Major John Egan. What is it?”

The pilot’s eyes flicked between Ruth and Johnny for a few seconds before he sighed. “I’ve filled the Angel up and it’s time to go. Find Hope and meet me back at the plane.”

Just like that, he was out the door again, probably to get ready for takeoff. Ruth’s heart sank at the realization that she was having to leave. It seemed he also came to the same conclusion as he turned toward her and sighed.

“Looks like you’ve gotta go,” he said softly, slightly tilting his head to the side as he peered down at her.

The nurse looked at the door, then lowered her gaze to her feet. “It sure does.”

She almost gasped in surprise when something warm grasped her hand gently. Her eyes shot up to John’s hand that held delicately held hers. The contact sent a tingle up her arm and seemingly straight to her mind, muddying her thoughts.

“I'd like to see you again,” he murmured where only she could hear.

This quieter, softer version of him was unknown to Ruth, but she knew instantly that she liked the duality of Johnny.

The blush she’d resisted finally won and dusted her cheeks as she looked up at him. “I’d like that, too.”

John softly tugged her hand closer and bridged the distance between them slowly, his entrancing eyes flicking between her eyes and lips. Ruth could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood on her toes to meet him. She felt his warm breath on her face, and her eyes fluttered closed, anticipating the kiss. But before their lips could meet, the door opened again, and Frank called out to her.

“Ruth, come on! You can neck the Major later!”

The door quickly creaked closed.

Heat rushed to Ruth’s face, and she reluctantly pulled back from Johnny, setting her heels back on the ground. Johnny awkwardly stood to his full height, glaring at the door where Frank stood moments before.

“I’ll see you next time, Johnny,” Ruth smiled bashfully, gently squeezing his hand once before dropping it. She walked backward to the door, praying she wouldn’t trip.

Johnny let out a huff of air as the biggest smile grew on his face. “So there will be a next time?”

She simply grinned at him, shrugging her shoulders when she turned to open the door. With one last look over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her.

The infirmary was silent for a few seconds, and then the patients erupted in hollers, cheers, and whistles.

“Way to go, Bucky!”

“Leave some for the rest of us, Major!”

Amid their uproar, John remembered a crucial detail: She hadn’t given him her address! He took off toward the door, reaching for the handle when it creaked open, revealing a laughing Ruth on the other side. She held out the slip to him.

“I think you behaved well enough, Major.”

“Told you,” he chimed, his eyebrows raising. “Scout’s honor.”

John took the paper from her outstretched hand and watched as she left once again. When the door had slammed shut behind her, he read the note to himself with a wide smile.

Hotshot,

You can write me at the Grove, Berkshire, Hut 4. I like you, so try not to get shot down before I can return your letter, and I’ll do the same.

Safe Flying,

Ruth Morgan

Johnny shot his hand with the paper into the air, and the men cheered once again. Ruth, on the other hand, was in disbelief of what had just transpired. She had almost kissed him! She wanted to kiss him! Running her hands through her hair, she tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Hope.

Ruth ran around the base like a chicken with her head cut off looking for the woman, and was about to give up when she saw her sitting in a jeep with Buck in the distance.

“HOPE! There you are, I've been looking everywhere. Frank fueled up the plane. We have to go,” Ruth huffed, clearly out of breath from running, but her flushed cheeks, Hope thought, told a different story.

“Okay, I'll be over in five minutes,” Hope promised, but Ruth didn't look convinced.

“Your five minutes or an actual five minutes?” She asked, and the glare Hope sent her way had Ruth turning around and heading back in the direction she’d come.

“Okay, but I'll be timing you,” she yelled over her shoulder.

When Ruth looked back to see Hope kissing Buck on the cheek, it occurred to her that maybe there were more trips to Thorpe Abbotts in the cards for both of them.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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bvidzsoo · 7 months

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Hi! First off I just wanna say how much I love your work! You are such a talented writer🤍 okay okay so for the Halloween prompt request, I was thinking maybe Vampire Seonghwa? (He's been plaguing my mind hella hard) with the prompts 3 and 22? I'm excited to see what you come up with!🤍

Thank you so much!🤍

◆Vampire!Seonghwa◆ (pink haired Seonghwa has me in an unhealthy grip and it will end me one day)

↳3. Well, that didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I was expecting it to.

↳22. Do I look tasty?

A/N: Hii! Thank you for your kind words, it makes me happy to know people like my stories as I place a lot of time in them. I shall say that pink haired Seonghwa has me in a GRIP and I'll NEVER escape it, so uhm, I did a little something here, haha. I hope you enjoy this little one and requests are open until the 1st of November for anyone interested! Before you start the short story, I want to say that this was inspired by Vampire Academy written by Richelle Mead, so here's a little explanation for those who haven't read the books:

1. Moroi-are born vampires, imbued with the magic to have power over the elements;

2. Dhampir-are half-human, half-vampires who are born to protect the Moroi. Don't have elemental magic, but have enhanced strength and senses making them the strongest protection against the Strigoi;

3. Strigoi- are the type of vampires that one would expect from an old horror classic

TW: cussing, blood, very slightly suggestive?

◆Halloween Prompts◆

That damned pink hair could be visible from miles away. If his desperate need to be distinguishable by some feature wasn't enough, then his flamboyant persona certainly was. Park Seonghwa was absolutely detestable. It isn’t enough that he comes from one of the royal moroi families, which makes him incredibly famous, he also makes sure to remind everyone of his high status in the order by looking down on you while flaunting his riches, the arrogant smirk never absent from his face. I truly wish one day I'll be able to punch that perfect nose of his, even if dhampirs weren't allowed to hurt morois. I tried to keep the sneer off my face as I glared at the back of his pink head, a disgusting color if anyone asks me, as his loud laughter carried over the crowd. How was it possible that he could be heard over all the chatter in the auditorium? I felt a nudge to my side and my attention was off Seonghwa as I stared at my best friend, whose eyebrows were raised. She already knew I would be in a sour mood when I realized I was forced to breathe the same air as Seonghwa, but today was also the day we'd be paired up for our field trip. The dreaded field trip. Us, dhampirs, would be assigned to a moroi to protect for a week, totally left alone by our teachers and other guardians. Basically, we were forced to fend for ourselves for a week in order to show how capable we were in completing our duties once we graduated. I, on one hand, was ready. I was born ready; I knew I could do this. The only problem was that I didn't know who I'd be assigned to protect and the thought of having to possibly spend a whole ass week with Seonghwa was giving me a freaking headache.

"I think he can feel your glare, Y/N." Kazuha muttered as I turned to look back towards the front, Seonghwa’s annoying hair bugging my eyes again. I just rolled my eyes and ignored my best friend’s comment, thinking to myself, that it was only good if he felt my glare. Everyone knew I didn’t like Seonghwa, why try and hide it? The head teacher walked in holding a big paper scroll in his hands, stopping in the center of the auditorium.

“Quiet down, everyone.” Despite the authority in his voice, Seonghwa proceeded to finish his joke and laugh loudly as everyone else glanced his way, the teacher sighing before continuing, “I’ll read the dhampir names first and then the moroi they’ll have to protect for the following week. Changing your partners isn’t allowed, and if anyone does so in secret, they’ll be expulsed from the Academy, never to graduate. And then you can try and live a miserable life.”

I don’t think I agree with the teacher. Having to live without being surrounded by some annoying spoiled morois sounded like every dhampirs most secret wish. The teacher opened the scroll and started reading the names, most students looking content and even happy with their partners, but there was one problem. Park Seonghwa’s name hasn’t been read yet, and with my luck…my fate in this whole thing was slowly dying out.

“Lee Y/N.” I stood up straighter in my seat, debating whether to say a quick prayer, but the moroi’s name was already called, “Park Seonghwa.”

Fuck. I hissed and allowed my head to fall against the table, creating a loud bang as I groaned lowly. The people sitting around me chuckled, amused by my reaction, and probably thankful they didn’t get paired with Seonghwa. Lucky bastards. I felt eyes on me before I could lift my head and I braced myself for the conceited smirk on his face as I looked up, eyes connecting with his. Seonghwa was smirking, and as if to make things worse, he winked before turning around and ignoring my existence.

I would’ve done anything to avoid this moment. To avoid sitting in a car as Seonghwa was handed the keys to the Academy’s expensive Mercedes, as if he didn’t own at least two muscle cars back at home. God, I wanted to die. He opened the door and sat inside, head turning to look at me. My jaw was clenched as I looked straight ahead, refusing to look at him, able to see from the corner of my eyes the amusement written all over his features. God, if only I was allowed to punch him.

“Since when are morois allowed to drive?” I snapped as he ignited the engine to life, “You know the dhampirs are the ones supposed to drive around and shit.”

“I know,” Seonghwa shrugged nonchalantly as he backed out of the parking lot of the Academy, our head teacher and the dhampir supervisor watching us with hawk like eyes as I mouthed a small ‘please, save me’ to them, a displeased look crossing their features, “But I don’t trust a woman with driving.”

I scoffed annoyed, my tongue pressing against my cheek as I tried to hold myself back, Kazuha’s words ringing loudly in my head. ‘Ignore him, think of anything else and just stay calm. You can do this.’ In fact, no, I was certain I couldn’t do this, and we have barely left the safety of our Academy.

“Do you even know where we’re supposed to go?” I opted to ask instead, glaring at the radio as Seonghwa turned it on, browsing through the channels.

“To my family’s vacation house?” Seonghwa gave me a look which said, ‘are you crazy for even asking that?’.

“If that’s where you’re taking us, just pull over, and I’ll walk back to the Academy myself and sabotage my own future.” I groaned and allowed my head to fall back against the headrest. Seonghwa scoffed and gave me a quick glance as we turned onto the highway.

“You seriously want to live in a shady neighborhood in a dodgy apartment for a week?” He looked at me as if I was crazy and I closed my eyes, pressing the button to roll down the window. I needed some fresh air. Perhaps that would stop me from wanting to crash our car, which I was supposed to be driving. I’ve never driven such a luxury car, Seonghwa robbed me of another once in a lifetime experience…once again.

“Yes, Seonghwa, because this is a test to what our lives will look like very soon, you conceited idiot!” I snapped, finally breaking as I turned to face Seonghwa, “You might have everything handed to you on a silver plate, but I certainly won’t be living in a mansion or my family’s vacation home once I’ve graduated.”

“If you graduate.” God, I really wanted to punch that arrogant smirk off his face. I didn’t have to be top of my class to graduate. I was one of the best dhampirs at our Academy currently and I was needed as female dhampirs were rare. Unlike him, who was raised on a silver plate, he had no significance whatsoever if he was stripped of his title. He wasn’t even a prince, he was around fifth in line to the throne, so he really was unimportant. His skills were mid and unless he continued his family’s business, he was a no one. That brought a content smile on my lips and Seonghwa threw me an annoyed glance, probably able to sense that my thoughts weren’t the nicest. He didn’t say anything else as he focused on the road, turning up the volume of the radio, making me sigh as I relaxed into the car seat and closed my eyes. It’s not that I trusted him, but I had barely gotten any sleep last night as we threw a secret party before our departure. It was wild.

Four days had gone by and things were going surprisingly well. For me, at least. I quickly got familiar with the area and did my patrols regularly, keeping an eye out for any unwanted danger. I even managed to become friends with our upstairs neighbor, who was a nice old lady. I found mundane tasks quite enjoyable as I walked to the market each morning and bought fresh fruits and vegetables to cook later, and of course, since it was Seonghwa’s money, I enjoyed spending it even more. I finally managed to get that long deserved haircut and all in all, this test turned out to be a lot more manageable than I expected it to be. Living with Seonghwa wasn’t too difficult, surprisingly, as he stayed in his room almost all day, listening to loud music and facetiming with his other moroi friends almost every other hour. Hearing his boisterous laughter and awful jokes through the thin walls was rather depressing, but I managed to block his voice out as I turned on the TV in the living room and turned the volume up, hearing Seonghwa scream at me to be quieter, only to get ignored. Of course, things weren’t going constantly smoothly as he always found something to start a petty fight based on, but after realizing that my anger was only bringing him enjoyment, I stopped showing my emotions. That didn’t mean that I didn’t want to bash his head against the wall at times, I was just smarter and started hiding it. However, despite me living my best life for the past four days, Seonghwa seemed to hate it here. He would jump at the slightest sound coming from outside and the curtains would have to be drawn almost all day as his skin was specifically sensitive to sunlight. That was a thing I didn’t believe, but I didn’t want to try my luck and actually set him on fire, that wouldn’t only get me expelled from the Academy, it would earn me the death penalty too. I preferred staying away from that one if possible. It was one of those serene nights, where I almost couldn’t tell if Seonghwa and I were living together, but my heightened senses could pick up on his breathing, a thing which annoyed me, but normally was very good as I could protect the morois in case of danger. Earlier today I bought some red wine and condiments to cook some pasta as I missed the taste of it, the chef’s cooking back at the Academy is rather bland, almost makes you think she’s a moroi. I have prepared everything and threw the ingredients together, letting it boil before pouring the heavy cream over it, letting it simmer for a few more minutes as I stirred it. I was lost in my world, humming a song which Seonghwa had been listening to on repeat, when suddenly I felt warmth behind me and my muscle memory kicked in as I whirled around, grabbing the intruder by the neck and slamming them against the nearest wall. My grip instantly loosened around Seonghwa’s neck when I finally realized it was just him, his normally round eyes wider than I’ve seen them ever before.

“Don’t ever creep up on me again, Seonghwa.” I hissed, eyebrows furrowed, “I could’ve hurt you.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” The stunned look was gone from his face, replaced with an annoying smirk. God, I hated his stupid face.

“Yeah, it is.” I muttered as I released him and went back to stir my sauce before shutting the gas off, taking the pot to the table. Seonghwa followed after me and watched me as I sat at the table, pouring the sauce over my spaghetti. I grabbed my glass of wine and took a sip, humming at the rich taste of it. It was expensive, but then again, Seonghwa was founding me so I only bought the priciest things, hoping to deprive him of all of his money. It was impossible, but it still bought a little satisfaction to my heart.

“You cooked dinner and didn’t even tell me…” Seonghwa trailed off, face falling for a second before it became composed again as he walked to the cupboard, taking out a plate.

“I didn’t know in what mood you were.” It was clear, Seonghwa was struggling without blood. I might’ve hated him, but I knew a moroi, a vampire, couldn’t survive without blood. Yes, they were able to eat normal food, but it could make them sick for days even. Seonghwa hasn’t eaten anything since we left the Academy. Hasn’t fed since we left the Academy. I tried to convince him to come to the hospital with me and I’d take a few blood bags for him, but he refused and said he’d survive without this week. He preferred fresh blood, apparently. And the lack of blood was already showing its first signs, his skin was paler than usual and dark bags were slowly forming underneath his eyes. I noticed his eyes glowing red every now and then, but that wasn’t necessarily a sign of bloodlust.

“I’m starving.” Seonghwa muttered more to himself, forgetting that I could hear him. I paused chewing as he sat down opposite me, surprised that he was willingly sitting at a table with me. He’d never do that at the Academy, but then again, I probably would pour my food all over his head if he did. I pushed the spaghetti and sauce pot towards him as Seonghwa reluctantly leaned forward and inhaled, eyes widening a little.

“Oh, this actually smells really nice.” He muttered absentmindedly and my eyes narrowed as I analyzed him. Was he being sincere? He seemed like he forgot I was even sitting at a table with him.

“I probably won’t be able to eat much, my stomach’s rather weak these days.” He said as he looked up and placed some spaghetti and sauce on his plate. I nodded and continued eating, watching his face for a reaction when he finally took a bite. He chewed slowly on the food and his eyebrows furrowed before he gulped the food down. He just glanced up at me and wordlessly continued to take a few more bites, but stopped at the fifth one. He pushed the plate away and grabbed a stray glass from the table, pouring himself wine.

“That wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected it to be.” I was about to thank him, for the first time in my life, but he had to continue, “I didn’t know dhampirs are now taught how to cook. But then again…you’re a woman, you’re supposed to know how to do that.”

“If you don’t shut up I will push that knife down your heart.” It was an empty threat, but it felt nice saying it as Seonghwa chuckled and took a big gulp of the wine, eyes going to the bottle before settling back on me.

“Are you trying to bereave me of my money, Y/N?” He cocked an eyebrow elegantly and I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair as I was finished with dinner too.

“As if you don’t have more than enough already,” I scoffed and took a sip of my wine, “Since I risk my life to protect you, you at least can let me spend as much as I’d like—”

“Yeah, like at the hairdresser.” Seonghwa cut me off with a scoff, eyes narrowing, “Who even charges that much?”

“I might’ve left a bigger tip than necessary.” I replied nonchalantly and hid my smirk behind my glass as I took another sip, Seonghwa scoffing as he drank the contents of his own glass before pouring some more wine for himself.

A few hours later, the lights seemed to dance around me as I sat in the chair, leaned back and one leg brought up on the chair, hair pulled in a low ponytail as I was feeling hot. It was from the wine, I knew that, but I couldn’t help fan myself as Seonghwa placed another card on the table. It was red. I didn’t have any red cards, so I had to pick up one from the deck. If anyone told me four days ago that I would be playing some silly card games with Seonghwa while the both of us were tipsy, I would’ve laughed in their face and asked them to walk to the psychic ward. But it was happening right now and Seonghwa was winning, for the fifth time. I was getting fed up.

“You’re cheating, okay?!” I exclaimed and slammed my cards on the table as Seonghwa placed his last one down, winning again. He just chuckled and took another sip of his wine, cheeks slightly flushed. One would say he looked like a living creature for once. It was late in the night and we were supposed to be sleeping, but I haven’t done my patrolling duty yet and it was cold outside, I really didn’t want to go. Besides, I was tipsy, my reflexes were dull, and if a strigoi were to attack me, I probably wouldn’t get very far, let alone be able protect Seonghwa.

“I’m not cheating,” He scoffed, looking offended, “I’m just really good at this game.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “Like you are at everything else.”

“Of course, I am.” He smirked and flicked a stray pink strand out of his eyes.

“Then why do you refuse to go to the hospital and steal one or two blood bags with me?” I raised my eyebrows challengingly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Seonghwa stiffened for a second before he leaned forward, placing his interlaced hands on the table and his chin on them.

“Because,” His voice lowered, as if he was scared someone was eavesdropping on us, “I only drink fresh blood.”

I scoffed, of course he did, he had the circumstances to, he was rich, “And why is that? Did mommy and daddy spoil you that much?”

That annoying smirk was back on his lips, “Yes, they did. I can’t stand the stale taste of blood; it makes me throw up. I like drinking it from the source, when it’s still warm and gushing, thick and rich and full of aroma.”

His eyes flashed red again and I watched as he licked his lips, suddenly the bloodlust obvious on his face. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up this topic, but I wanted to know the real reason. A vampire who was thirsty shouldn’t be challenged, but I was safe. It was strictly forbidden for morois to drink blood from dhampirs. And it would make me seem like a whore. But the alcohol was hitting hard and I was genuinely curious, never having talked to a moroi about this before, almost wanting to experience the euphoric feeling it’s said a vampire’s bite gives you.

“Do I look tasty?” The words left my lips before I could think much as Seonghwa and I made eye contact. I knew my eyes were glazed over with intoxication from the alcohol, but suddenly Seonghwa’s pupils grew in size as his eyes flashed red and remained like that. The ceiling lamp’s light falling on him made his eyes seem a deep red, swirling around almost in his round eyes.

“You or your blood?” Seonghwa’s voice was low and a strand of pink hair fell into his eyes as he stared me down. Suddenly, I felt glued to my place. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on its pray.

“Both.” I answered breathless, taken aback by Seonghwa’s sudden change of character. He was always so arrogant, so uncaring and so irritating, you’d never think he was capable of looking at you with such danger written all over his face and body. A vein in his neck was visibly pulsing and his hands tightened around each other, knuckles turning white as he inhaled deeply, eyes slightly fluttering closed.

“You smell like flowers, but it’s so—sweet.” His voice was strained as he blinked his eyes open, red glinting back at me as I straightened up in my chair, body suddenly flushing at his words. It was most certainly the alcohol making me feel like this, but I pushed my ponytail behind my shoulders, and I didn’t miss Seonghwa’s eyes focusing on my neck as I cleared my throat.

“Have you tasted sweet blood before?” I whispered, Seonghwa’s jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was fighting back his demons. He said nothing as he shook his head no and I sucked in a deep breath, making eye contact with him, “Would you like to?”

Before I could blink, Seonghwa was up on his feet and next to me, sending his chair to the floor with a loud clank, and I was hauled up by a grip around my bicep. Seonghwa’s long fingers dug into my skin with a bruising force as he sneered down at me, our height difference very obvious. He’s never stood so close to me before.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N, stop.” He warned, voice deep and eyes flickering from red back to its brown color to red again. I bit my lower lip and stood on my tip toes, lips barely brushing against his earlobe.

“I know you want to bite me, Seonghwa, suck my blood—” What was the reason of my taunting? Probably nothing more than wanting to fuck with him. To finally see him so out of control and desperate, anything like the Seonghwa he always presented himself to be. And it was the alcohol, of course, because I would’ve never asked such thing of him sober. I was ruining my dignity at the moment.

“If anyone finds out…” His voice was horse as he slightly pulled me back, looking down at me, eyes trained on the smooth skin of my neck.

“Nobody will,” I smirked at him, barring my neck more for him as his eyes flicked back to red, “But you have to swear you will keep your mouth shut, Seonghwa.”

“Will you become my supplier, then?” That annoying smirk was back on his lips and I hissed at him, glaring fiercely.

“Don’t overstep your boundaries, asshole.”

“As if you aren’t the one begging me to bite you.”

“As if you aren’t the one desperate to bite me.”

That’s all it took for Seonghwa to finally give in, lips parting and fangs shirking as he opened his mouth more, locking eyes with me. I nodded subtly and my body tensed as Seonghwa slowly leaned down, closer to my neck. My breath caught in my throat as Seonghwa’s plush lips pressed softly against my neck in a small kiss before I felt them retreating and instead two sharp fangs poked against my skin. Before I could have time to rethink my poor choices, the sharp fangs pressed hard into my skin, making me gasp loudly and grasp onto Seonghwa’s shoulders as his teeth tore through my untouched skin, sharp pain erupting in the area as it traveled towards my shoulder and ear. My grip on Seonghwa turned harsh and suddenly I felt him pulling my body flushed against his as he held my nape, sucking on my blood. As soon as the pain came it was gone, the feeling of his fangs foreign as my eyes started becoming blurry, brain fogged up. My lips fell open as my whole body seemed to tingle, from head to toe, and Seonghwa suddenly moaned, lightly pushing me backwards until my hips were pressing against the table. The euphoria was becoming overwhelming as my breathing stuttered and I whined quietly as my head lulled back, knees feeling faint all of a sudden. Seonghwa moaned again, sending vibrations down my neck, my skin covered in goosebumps as I had to grab onto the table with one hand as the other still held onto Seonghwa. Dark spots started covering my vision, but I was unable to speak, unable to let Seonghwa know that he was probably drinking too much. But he must’ve known as suddenly, his cold fangs were gone from my neck, the cool air hitting the marks as Seonghwa’s nose nuzzled against my jaw, breathing hard. I gasped as my knees bucked for a second, Seonghwa’s arms holding me up as my mind slowly started to clear up. The fog was lifting, but just barely, as I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly the light too much for them. I took deep breaths, the marks pulsed as I was finally able to close my mouth and swallowed, my throat dry all of a sudden. The dark spots were gone, but a slight headache started overtaking the haze, forehead lightly pulsing rhythmically. As I opened my eyes, I was met with Seonghwa staring down at me with lust coating his whole face, his red eyes shinning as he was breathing hard. Apparently I wasn’t the only one affected as my body continued to tingle, a different kind of want overtaking it. Seonghwa’s hand was still gripping my nape and my eyes fell to his plump lips, the inside of the still bloody. Coated with my blood. Something inside of Seonghwa snapped again as he leaned down, crashing his cherry red lips against mine, tasting like iron, nothing like the sweet taste he described. His lips moved against mine hungrily and I kissed him back with just as much fervor, fingers tangling in his pushed back pink hair, yanking on it when he pushed my lips more open with his tongue. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and lapped at my own, sucking on it hard, making me moan involuntarily. Seonghwa’s hands gripped my cheeks hard as my lungs screamed for air, but I was drunk on his warmth and passion, teeth clanking against the other. I bit his lower lip hard, making Seonghwa hiss before I released it, licking the saliva off my lips. Seonghwa went and clipped my lower lip with his suddenly shirked fangs. His breath was fanning my face, quick and hot, and all I could do was look up in his brown eyes and chuckle, pulling my head back slightly to free my lip from his assaults.

“Well, that didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I was expecting it to.” I muttered and Seonghwa smirked, leaning close again that his lips were brushing against mine.

“If you think you’ll ever get away from me after this,” He chuckled and shook his head, “you’re very wrong. Once we have graduated I will request for you to be my guardian.”

“Fuck you.” I snapped, suddenly glaring at him as Seonghwa smirked viciously, “You’ll never have me.”

“Oh, but don’t I already?” He taunted and pressed a soft kiss against my lips mockingly, making me wrestle out of his grip as he just laughed, “I always get what I want.”

“If you tell anyone that I—” Suddenly I felt too sober, suddenly I realized the weight of my actions.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want anyone to know about our dirty little secret, love.” Seonghwa chuckled as I walked away from him, needing to put distance between our bodies, “I hope you do know vampire venom is addictive—”

“Of course, I know!” My voice raised as I whirled around to glare at him, “One bite won’t make me addicted, though.”

“One or two won’t, indeed.” I didn’t like the glint in his eyes nor the promise in his voice. Something told me that this wasn’t the last time he’d come to me to drink my blood. Fuck, I just fucked myself over for a lifetime. Park Seonghwa always gets what he wants, and if he requests for me to be his guardian after graduation, he would get just that. It’s true what they say after all, curiosity killed the cat.

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Text

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 12: I hold myself supremely blest -- blest beyond what language can express

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

A reunion amongst friends and a little surprise await the bride-to-be.

Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art by @adactaaries

Ban was halfway finished with picking out cutlery, deciding between two soup spoons that looked rather similar when hands covered her eyes. Immediately she noticed the lack of Astarion’s scent, finding the aroma of parchment instead.

“Gale?”

The hands let go and he chuckled. “Congratulations are in order, I take it?”

“Thank you,” she turned to give him a quick hug. “But… aren’t you scheduled to be here in two days, together with the rest?”

He seemed to dither for a moment, and she raised her eyebrows. “I was supposed to, but Astarion requested that I come a few days ahead.”

“He- what for?” Ban watched as Gale opened his mouth to speak, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Astarion smirked at her. “I’ve asked for Gale’s assistance regarding… certain matters, which are to be a surprise.”

A surprise? Does he mean the plans to get my father to speak up? Ban assumed so. Perhaps he’d made progress and wanted to surprise her with it, although she couldn’t fathom what Gale could do to help.

“Alright.” She smiled at Gale again, then gestured in the direction of the guest rooms. “Shall we?”

As they walked together, Gale cleared his throat. “I assume things worked out for the best between you and Astarion?”

She inclined her head. “It did.”

“Not that I’m doubting you, but-”

Ban cut him off with a look. “You’ve read my letters. We… we’ve worked it out.”

“I know.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I know it’s highly unlikely, and likely rude of me to say so, but I merely wanted to be sure you aren’t trapped, that he hasn’t found some way to compel you.”

“I appreciate the concern. I really do. I assume I’ll also be having this conversation with the rest of our companions.”

They reached the door and Ban opened it, revealing a huge, ornate bed and a desk. A large painting hung on the wall opposite the window.

Ban looked around, collecting her thoughts. “Thank you for checking. But Astarion and I have never been happier.”

“He does seem more… relaxed,” Gale admitted. He sat on the bed, tiredly toeing off his shoes. “He sent his request to come ahead of time and for once he didn’t sound…”

“Off-putting?” Ban offered, and he chuckled.

“He sounded like his old self.”

Ban snorted. “Yes.” She didn’t intend to elaborate to their friends. It was enough for them to know that they were together and happy; she didn’t think it necessary to share much with the others about their relationship.

“And how are you doing, Gale? Any news from Waterdeep? I know Astarion invited Vel’s former spawn through you.”

“Nothing new, other than Enxisys and Miaxisys now apparently rule the roost,” Gale replied. He scanned the room, eyes pausing for a moment on the painting, but he didn’t remark on it. He cleared his throat. “Erm. You two have done a fair amount of redecorating since we were last here.”

“Almost tore the place down and rebuilt it from the ground up. We expanded the gardens, as you saw on the way in, redid the entrance, the dungeons…”

“Dungeons.” Gale groaned, “What joy.”

“They’re shops now. We’re not keeping prisoners. Well. I say we - but I know what you assumed. Him.”

“Oh, I figured. You wouldn’t have stayed had that been the case.” He waved a hand. “I suppose he’s not what we thought he was. A pompous, arrogant arse, and a little… domineering, in his little tyrant-y way, but that’s not really anything new from the Astarion we knew. Just… more.”

She laughed at the thought. “You’re not wrong. But… Gale, a favor, please. Something I’d ask of you, and of everyone, once they’re here.”

“Go ahead,” he said, curious.

“Be nice. To him.” She paused, searching for the right words. “He… what happened at the rite, after it, the reunion... It all still hurts him.”

She could see Gale consider her request. “I’ve always been… nice to Astarion. At the very least, civil.”

“I know, but he did feel betrayed by all of it.” She patted his knee. “A little more kindness would do wonders. He needs it.”

Gale softened at her words. “I’ll try, and I’ll inform the others as well. For what it’s worth, I could always see how much he loves you. After the rite, it seemed… misguided, along with the rest of him.”

Ban sighed. “Misguided, misunderstood, mis…” she waved a hand, “Missed. It was much missed.”

She fell silent for a moment. “Thank you for coming here, and indulging him in… whatever he wants you to do.”

Gale walked through the palace, arms clasped behind his back. Astarion had summoned him to a spare room in one of the palace’s annexes. The third room from the landing, the chamberlain had said, and Gale managed to find it, the door left slightly ajar. He stepped in and saw the Ascendant, dressed sharply as usual, in an embroidered doublet.

“You asked for me?” Gale shut the door.

Astarion turned to face him. He looked… uncertain, and Gale had only ever seen that on his face when Ban had been kidnapped.

“Gale.” Astarion cleared his throat. “I appreciate you coming ahead on such short notice. This wouldn’t be possible without your participation.”

“Of course. A few days made little difference. I simply had to ask for a longer leave from the academy.”

“I see.”

To Gale’s surprise Astarion fidgeted. He watched him cross his arms across his chest. For a long moment the two men stared at each other in silence.

Gale was the first to break it. “About… Ban. We- I was just with her and-” He tried to hold Astarion’s gaze. It wasn’t hard, and if he had to guess, there was some measure of amusement there, however veiled. “I simply want to clarify that whatever feelings I had for her back then,” he waved a hand, “are… gone. Poof!”

He saw the Ascendant’s lip curl, but was surprised it was to smile rather than sneer. Astarion pursed his lips momentarily, then huffed a small chuckle, his voice becoming haughty - and yet…companionable. “You are free to feel however you wish to feel about Ban. It is completely understandable to find yourself smitten; I myself am obviously not immune to her charms.”

Gale spluttered. “Yes, I mean, she is wonderful and all that, of course! However I’m trying to say-”

“I am aware,” Astarion interjected. His voice was chilly, but he was still smiling, and now his eyes were crinkled. The mirth in them was impossible to miss. “And I am saying it’s fine.”

“Oh.” Gale shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Alright.”

The smile on Astarion’s face was replaced by a pensive expression, and he turned away from Gale to face their little project. Gale heard him exhale.

“Between the two of us, I’d say I’m the one who needs to clear the air,” Astarion began. “I’ve yet to express my gratitude for taking Ban in when she needed it most. When she needed someone to give her aid, you were there, despite the potential risks to yourself.”

Gale swallowed. “I did what needed to be done. I wanted to do right by my friend. Whether I felt anything romantic for her or not was irrelevant.”

“I appreciate that,” Astarion turned, meeting Gale’s gaze. His eyes, to Gale’s surprise, were wide and earnest, the hooded, guarded expression absent. Gale hadn’t seen Astarion look so guileless since… well, possibly ever.

“While it… stung that none of you cared to remain friends with me after the rite, or to communicate with me before providing her assistance in leaving,” he began, “I comprehend your reasons. After all, I was with her every single day, and even she didn’t do that.”

Gale considered explaining himself, but decided to wait. Astarion took a deep breath and pushed on.

“I have to thank you, however, for aiding her - all of you, were I to be completely frank. Her departure was…” his eyes flicked away, “much needed. It was what she needed, and it was what I needed to set myself on the right path.”

Gale nodded, surprised and pleased by Astarion’s - by his friend’s candor. “Er. You’re… welcome, I suppose. Well, it all ended up for the better, so.”

He shifted his attention to the hulking object by Astarion, clapping his hands together and smiling eagerly.

“So, my friend. Shall we begin?”

Ban watched the foyer doors open and was immediately accosted by big, burly arms; she gasped out a weak “Karlach!”

“I’m here!” Karlach exclaimed, squeezing Ban tightly. “Withers said he’d be coming to the wedding itself, but-” she gestured from herself and Wyll, “-we’re his gift!”

“Delightfully considerate of him,” Astarion mused dryly from where he stood behind Ban. Karlach let go of her.

“Hey, Astarion,” she waved at him awkwardly.

He lifted his eyes from his fingertips, which he had been very pointedly studying. “Hello, Karlach.”

She beckoned Wyll over, and he pressed a horned skull onto Ban’s palms; it smelled sulphuric, and Astarion’s nose burned.

“Our wedding present,” Wyll said, looking at both of them. “It isn’t much, but-”

His words were silenced by Ban’s tight hug. As she released him he stepped towards Astarion, offering a hand.

“Congratulations.”

Astarion seemed to freeze for a moment, staring at Wyll’s proffered hand before clasping it for a firm shake.

“Thank you, Wyll. I… I appreciate it.” There was a stiffness in how he held himself, even now he was awkward in the face of kindness from anyone but her. Ban found it rather endearing and amusing.

The next face Ban saw was Halsin’s; evidently everyone had traveled together. He wrapped his arms around her, and the scent of earth filled her nose. After a long moment he set her down and turned to hug Astarion as well. To her surprise, he accepted and returned the gesture without complaint. Whatever had transpired in their conversation in Rivington had clearly established a warmer relationship between the two.

Then Lae’zel, who gave Ban a quick once-over. “I came to make sure you were healthy. And you,” she said, turning to Astarion, “are lucky they said she would likely want you alive last time. Chk.”

He bit his lip, then ground out a terse reply. “Formidable as you are, I wouldn’t be so certain I was the lucky one that day, Lae’zel.”

Lae’zel opened her mouth, but Shadowheart interjected before it could escalate. “Astarion! I’m so happy for you both.” Like Halsin, she hugged Astarion. Ban sagged in relief when he allowed it, looking only mildly baffled by the gesture. Ban mumbled a quick thank you when it was her turn for a hug. She’d told Shadowheart everything when they’d met to discuss the Sharran cloisters, and she was glad to see that had been enough for Shadowheart to warm up to Astarion.

Astarion blinked, seemingly bewildered after his second hug of the day. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

He turned, eyes roaming over everyone. “I shall have our chamberlain lead you all to your rooms. Dinner will be at sunset.”

Ban smiled a little, watching his shoulders drop as the chamberlain led their former companions deeper into the palace.

“You handled that well.”

“Well enough,” he grumbled. “They still loathe me.”

She stepped closer, cupping his cheek. “They do not. And if some of them do, love, we’ll change their minds by the time the night is over. And then tomorrow…” she pecked his lips, “Tomorrow that will be the least of your concerns.”

He sighed. “I know. I merely-” he shook his head ruefully. “Best not bring it up, I suppose. What’s done is done.”

“You could clear the air. We have all of tonight to do that,” She scanned his face. “Is there more troubling you?”

“Not troubling me, dear.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a smile, arms wrapping around her for a quick hug. “On the contrary; there’s something I can’t wait to show you.”

“Oh?” She leaned into his touch, a small moment just for themselves on this busy night. “Perhaps something between your legs?” She crooned, batting her eyelashes at him coyly.

“Your wedding gift,” he purred into her ear, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“If it’s some expensive jewelry again, or more art… Gods. We’ll run out of walls to hang them.”

He smirked. “It is expensive, and rare. But you’ll have to wait until the end of the night to see it.”

They entered the dining room to see everyone seated and waiting; Ban slipped into her usual seat to the right of Astarion. Wyll broke the silence that had fallen when they walked in.

“We’re all happy for you two,” he began, his hand reaching for the stem of his goblet. “For… working it out. Shadowheart and Gale kept us abreast of the… developments.”

Astarion, who’d been pouring himself some blood from their shared bottle, set it down with a rather loud clink.

“Working it out,” he spat out. “Of course we did, no thanks to you lot.” He knew she’d had to leave, knew it had needed to happen, but that didn’t lessen the hurt.

Karlach leaned forward. “We did what was best for Ban. And you were-”

“I know what I was,” Astarion hissed. “I merely wish someone… had approached me. Then again, why did I even expect anything of the sort? You all distanced yourselves after the ritual, avoided me as if I was some… leper, and not one of you reached out to me when Ban…” He felt Ban’s hand cover his own and he squeezed.

“I understand why you did what you did,” he pushed on. “I simply wanted you to know that it hurt me - all of it.” Clenching his jaw, he looked down at their entwined hands.

He took a deep breath. “But all is forgiven. We are here to celebrate, not throw old grievances around.”

Silence met him for several long moments, broken only by Gale reaching over to clap a hand on his shoulder. “We understand, Astarion. I meant what I said before. We’re still your friends.”

Their companions voiced their agreement and several quiet apologies were offered.

“I… Thank you,” Astarion mumbled under his breath, reaching for his goblet.

With that out of the way, conversation began in earnest. Astarion watched it all, listening to nothing in particular, unsure of how they actually felt about him. Will they always look at me and wonder if someday they’ll be called upon to rescue her from me once more? Will I ever be just Astarion to them again?

As the food was served and he prepared to eat, he caught his name.

“-starion?”

Shadowheart. He looked to her, curious.

“Karlach was asking if you’d be able to take on a cambion now,” she explained.

“Cambion, I’m not certain. An incubus, most assuredly so.” He smirked, the pleasant memory flashing through his mind.

Lae’zel fixed him with a baleful glare from the other end of the table. “If by that you mean to say you killed Haarlep… I am almost impressed.”

“I did indeed,” he preened, raising his glass to her. “As previously implied, I could probably take you on.”

She laughed, a challenge in her eyes. “Chk. I would like to see you try.”

Ban cleared her throat. “Before you challenge Lae’zel, Astarion, you should try sparring with me.”

“Only if you can stay in mist form for longer than a minute,” Astarion quipped; pleased to hear the laughter from the rest.

“The day I do is the day you’ll regret saying that.”

Karlach snickered. “Look at you two! At us! Just like the good old days, eh?”

Astarion glanced at her, a wistful look in his eyes. “With much better fare, but I agree.”

“The camp food left much to be desired,” Halsin agreed. He was seated between Lae’zel and Shadowheart, his more homely clothes a contrast to his surroundings.

“Thank you!” Astarion exclaimed emphatically, to loud snickering.

“You don’t even eat!” Gale snapped, indignant.

Astarion wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t eat, but I could smell.”

“I eat,” Karlach intoned, “and it sucked.”

“Apples, fish heads…” Shadowheart added, before sipping a spoonful of soup.

Gale spluttered. “I had no choice! That was all we had!”

“You were with Ban and Astarion most days, Gale. You could have taken the time to find more palatable fare,” Wyll suggested, deadpan.

Ban scanned them all, a small smile flitting over her features. “Astarion said my breath after I ate your stews was rancid.”

“Rancid!” Gale raised his index finger. “I’ll have you know my mother taught me how to cook!”

Laughter filled the room. The warm candlelight threw them all into reddish hues, and if Astarion squinted, it was almost as if they were back by the campfire. He looked to his beloved, saw her laughing, and it was as if no time had passed. His heart swelled.

She shot him a smile, the one that was just for him, reaching over to tangle her fingers in his, their hands set on the table for all to see.

She leaned in to ask quietly, “Feeling better?”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before replying.

Astarion’s eyes locked onto hers and he directed his answer to her mind. I do not require their approval, or their friendship, but… I will admit that having it again is nice. He reached for another forkful of his dinner.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. You and Gale had a conversation about it, and I had discussed things with Shadowheart and Gale, as well. Halsin-

Halsin and I made amends some time ago. He fixed her with a pointed gaze, sending a small sliver of his memory-

Coming apart on her lap, Halsin’s gift spreading him open, feeling it hit his spot with every thrust. The look on her face as she fucked him, praised him, loved him, his desire and joy comingling in an overwhelmingly intense rush as he came.

She hid her answering grin from their guests, resting her head on her hand and tilting her head his way; her legs crossed. I assumed as much, seeing as he seemingly gifted that to you with no preamble.

Astarion shrugged. It was a wonderful present. I do find myself curious about how he’ll attempt to top that for his wedding gift. He let his eyes rake over her. Hopefully his new present will have me writhing with just as much pleasure as the previous one did - perhaps even more, seeing as you’ve improved your… skillset.

Ban snorted, rolling her eyes. She pointedly stared between his legs, licking her lips slowly. I saw him carry something in when he arrived. Something large and fragile, by the looks of the container. She showed Astarion what she had seen: a rather sizable box, gingerly set on the floor when Halsin greeted them and picked up with great care and cradled afterwards.

If it’s fragile, then it’s quite unlikely to be what I was looking forward to.

He saw Ban splutter mid-sip, failing to keep her laughter hidden. You want more? We already have a sizable collection - every size and shape - and we barely even use them!

I prefer having it once in a while, like a fine vintage - imbibe too much and you lose appreciation for its finer notes. Besides, most of the time I’d much rather be buried inside you.

She choked on her wine at that, a loud sound that would have captured everyone’s attention had they not been engaged in their own conversation. He watched her squirm with deep satisfaction.

You tease!

Astarion hardly recognized the carefree, throaty laugh that escaped him, but he didn’t attempt to stem it. He lifted her hand, stroking her fingers with his own. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her wrist, exhaling through his mouth to let the warm rush of air tickle her flesh. She shivered and her eyes closed as she bit her lip lightly. He chuckled and her eyes snapped open in a playful glare; it merely served to amuse him more. He was certain breaking their fast would be memorable.

There was a small ripple of nervous energy amongst their guests, and he tilted his head, shifting his attention to them.

“-don’t even know if they’d realistically survive doing that.” Gale, engaged in conversation with Karlach, drank deeply from his goblet.

Karlach’s eyes snapped towards Astarion, realizing he was listening to their conversation. She elbowed Gale.

“What? I mean, healing abilities aside, which I’ve personally witnessed…” Gale trailed off to see Astarion’s gaze on him.

The painting in Gale's room. One of their more unusual commissions, a piece depicting Ban feeding from a wound in his chest. He crossed his arms, amused.

Ban had followed her husband’s eyes. “You two taking bets?”

Karlach pointed her fork at Gale. “He said Astarion would die if you two actually did it. And I’m not betting against the wizard.”

Astarion chimed in. “You have personally witnessed me stabbed in the heart, Gale. What gives you the impression I wouldn’t survive a shallower incision?”

“I merely thought… with the size of the wound depicted on it…”

“Never heard of artistic license?” Karlach answered without missing a beat.

Gale’s glare was withering. “I know what artistic license is, Karlach. I was merely wondering if they actually did it to the extent depicted, if at all.”

“I’m not confirming nor denying anything.” Ban’s lips curled in a smile as she said this.

I’m almost tempted to tell him we did, he told her. Her eyes flicked to him.

I don’t need any rumors of me eating your heart-

Astarion shrugged. Suit yourself. I wouldn’t mind everyone thinking us debauched, senseless fools, driven mad with lust for each other. He placed a hand high on her thigh and squeezed. As if that were not true.

“You’re driving me mad,” Ban muttered under her breath, her legs visibly squeezing together.

He drank from his goblet to hide his smirk, caressing her now-tensed thigh in slow, languid strokes. One more day, Ban. I hope you’ll survive it.

For the rest of the evening, the dining room was filled with the sounds of eating, of clanking dishes, of drinks being poured and stories being told. Throughout it all, the sound of laughter reigned supreme.

After everyone else had retired for the night, Astarion led her blindfolded through the palace, hands on her shoulders. “We shall take a left, and a right in twenty paces.”

Ban groaned as her toe stubbed a nearby armchair. “Gods, must it really be this way?”

He’d led her up one of the palace’s staircases, through corridors they rarely passed through, and she kept bumping into things.

“Must? Of course not. However I’ve spent too much time and energy preparing this to merely present it without at least some fanfare. Besides - how many times do I need to decline answering that question?”

“Where are you taking me, then?”

“Ask better questions and I might consider indulging you.”

“If by indulging you mean giving yet another non-answer, no.” She laughed. “You absolute prat, I-”

Her words were swallowed by his mouth seizing hers, his tongue diving between her lips before she could react. She felt his hands slide their way to her ass, squeezing firmly enough to elicit a gasp. He pulled her hips forward, grinding himself against her, and she ached at the feel of his cock, hard and hot, pressing exactly where she wanted him. It was delicious - electric - but before she could lift her hands to tug him closer, he’d already pulled away. She could hear him panting and knew she wasn’t the only one whose self-control hung by a thread, much as he liked to pretend otherwise.

“A little more patience, my love, and you’ll-”

“We’ll,” Ban corrected, smirking.

There was a rustle of cloth as Astarion adjusted himself, then cleared his throat, the snort barely hidden. “Fine. We’ll both be rewarded for our restraint.”

“Not fair,” she whined. “You get to touch me, just like that, get to use your words, and I’m just immediately begging to have you.”

“Let me remind you: this was your punishment.” He returned his hands to her shoulders and continued leading her. “And I have not used the full force of my voice on you in quite some time.”

She noticed an odd somberness in the tone of that last statement. “What do you mean?”

“Turn right here.” He turned her, his hands gentle. He took a breath through his nose. “You seem to be longing for the old days - for those flowery, sultry words - when I could simply… speak, and you’d melt.”

She suspected them to be in the third landing of this particular wing, guessing they were close to the room she theorized he was taking her to. The sudden gust of cold air told her they’d passed by one of the arched windows. “I did notice that you’d stopped, but I didn’t want to… much as I missed it, I thought you might have seen it as performing.”

He stilled, and she stopped. She sensed him move in front of her, then felt his hands slide around her waist and pull her into an embrace.

“Is that so?” he murmured against her ear. “I had assumed you did not want reminders of before, and so I refrained. I recall you admonishing me, telling me to relax. To be clear - I do not mind a certain level of performance; not anymore, and especially not with you. Seduction is by nature, on some level, a performance. But with you it is not a cold, callous thing. Heightening your pleasure could never be cold to me.”

She traced soothing circles on his back, fingers gliding along the muscles she knew so well.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I intended, at all. You stopped doing it after the rite, and well… you never really slipped back into doing it regularly. So whenever you did do it I assumed it was… contrived, that it wasn’t something I should be encouraging or requesting.”

“When I had nothing else to offer you, words were the one thing I could.” She felt him relax into her touch, his chin settling on top of her head.

“When I finally had everything to give, words felt… unnecessary. I did not realize until too late that words were what you missed the most - not merely the sensual persuasion, but those that spoke of my true feelings. With the quagmire our relationship had become,” he huffed, “it felt unwise to bring such talk back into our bedroom. I feared you mourning the past, and you voiced no complaint; that felt like confirmation that I was on the right path.”

She considered his words and found them accurate. She nodded, face huddled against the expanse of bare chest his open shirt exposed.

“I suppose we misunderstood each other. Again.”

“One of a multitude of such instances, yes,” he conceded. “However, like everything else, it can be discussed. So, my love. Do you wish me to…” he leaned in, lips a hairsbreadth from the shell of her ear, his voice lowering to an erotic purr, “whisper sweet words to you, soft words of devotion…” he breathed, a rough, ragged sound, the heat of it sending a wave of fire from her ear to her groin, “pant and gasp and tell you every one of the debauched ways I wish to have you…” his tongue flicked out and ran up the edge of her ear, “moan and whimper your name,” his fingers traced down her neck and across her collarbone, “sigh out every filthy thought that goes through my mind every time I see you, so that you can hear every. single. day. that every inch of my body yearns for you,” he caught her earlobe between his teeth for the briefest moment, “that every moment I’m not buried inside you, filling you with my seed, is a glorious agony only you can assuage…”

She shuddered, barely preventing her knees from buckling; Astarion chuckled, low and deep.

“I can make your name a prayer, sing your praises. Coax you to do anything and everything for me, dearest Ban.” Her name was almost obscene on his lips, velvety voice crooning directly into her ear. She was wet, her legs squeezing together.

He chuckled lightly, his breath hitching on a quiet inhale that cut off in a desperate groan when he caught the scent of her arousal. To her surprise, his mouth devoured hers again. Her arms lifted to wind around his waist, but he captured them, wrapping his strong hands around her wrists.

“Not today, my love,” he whispered, “as much as I want it too.” He pressed his hips against hers, one long, slow, grind, allowing her to feel the truth of his words.

“Fuck,” she managed to groan, pulling away. “Yes. I want that.”

He kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow, I promise. You will be lavished with all the words I’ve longed to give you again. In fact, I trust you will make some small attempt to do the same,” he teased, “although it may be decades, perhaps centuries, before you attain my level of skill.” Ban rolled her eyes, and although he couldn’t see it through the blindfold, he sensed it.

“I’ll come up with something. You’ll see.”

He loosed a quiet snort. After a moment, he resumed leading her down the corridor, and into a room. He closed the door behind them, then led her backwards until the backs of her legs hit what felt like a chair.

“Sit.”

She did as asked, and he reached down to untie her blindfold. “I’m not certain how to say this, other than that I wanted to give you something for our wedding. You’ve planned it to perfection, and this is my way of saying thank you.”

He drew away, and she opened her eyes.

She saw… herself. Slightly more ashen than she was used to, staring at herself askance. It took several long moments to realize what she was looking at. An ornate, gold-gilt rectangular mirror with an arched top. A mirror. She gasped in wonder, eyes tracing over Astarion, who was naturally also reflected in it, grinning from ear to ear.

It took slightly longer to realize what she was seated on. Mostly black, not quite the same style as his, but a throne all the same. She took a moment to find the words, but all that came out was a broken “Astarion…”

He crossed his arms, smiling still. “Meiros had made such a brilliant piece, and I thought its beauty would be wasted if it would never be able to reflect your countenance. I corresponded with Gale, who corresponded with Elminster, and…” he shrugged. “Here it is. In time for you to see yourself properly on our wedding day.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “And th-this?” She ran her hands over the armrests, feeling the intricate carvings.

“Another gift. The initial one, in fact, before I purchased the mirror. You sorely needed one.”

Ban kept her eyes on herself, drinking in everything. “Thank you. For both. I… I love them. But I’d still want to sit on your lap.”

Astarion laughed, a loud, mirthful sound. “I won’t deny you that. Still, you have to admit this sends a much-needed message to the guests at our events.” He approached her and playfully sat on her lap, angling his face towards hers. “You’re to be respected, to be seen as holding the same stature as I. Equals.”

He turned to straddle her, pressing himself close, arms around her neck. “Wouldn’t you say that was a good idea?” He looked back at the mirror, seeing them both. I should have her take me in front of this sometime, he thought. The visuals would no doubt be magnificent…

She nodded, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. She could feel the soft press of his cock against her belly; she desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, her hand lifted before she could think.

“Bad girl,” he said, returning his gaze to her. He took her hand and wrapped it around his waist instead. His eyes, however, were tender. “One more day. I promise you it will be worth the wait.”

He leaned forwards, kissing her softly, unable to keep his hips still. He ground against her, her hand obediently remained where he’d placed it.

Ban moaned, longing to deepen the kiss. She sucked on his lower lip, but he pulled away as soon as she began to nibble.

He stood up, thumb running over his swollen lip absently. They both looked at the tent in his trousers, he with chagrin and she with naked hunger. He quietly adjusted himself.

“Patently clear I’m not the only one suffering,” she said.

A small, amused bark answered her. “You have no idea.”

Bonus: Here’s the art from Gale’s room, commissioned from @kringle-c

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon @generalstephkenobi

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glassartpeasants · 1 month

Text

Run Rabbit Run .10

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Death, blood mentions, physical abuse, violence, implied non-con, slight non-con, not edited for shit cause it took too long to type in general

A/N: This part is all in the eyes of Kidd so enjoy. I'm so happy for this shit to be finally published cause it took me too fucking long to do. Also working on new writing styles cause i need to be a perfectionist

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

~~~

“Look at them run! This is gonna be a fun island to ransack.”

“We should find the mayor and ask him where he keeps the town's treasury.”

“Good thinking, Killer.”

Even with the conversation so short, it spoke volumes as the Victoria Punk docks on the island. The beautiful blue skies shone down on the new and upcoming worst-generation supernova. With only a few months under his belt, his name was still feared throughout the south blue. His bounty getting higher and higher with every new poster.

He has yet to lose to any marine or pirate ship. Every battle he wins only makes him all the more feared, and his crew is just as terrifying as himself. Being known for his bloodthirsty ways, people would usually give him their prized possessions just to make sure they stayed clear of his wraith. But even then, sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

“This island is smaller than I thought, but it’s still mostly populated. More people, more treasure.”

“I haven’t seen any marines since we’ve docked, no boats or anything. Do you think this island isn’t under the eye of the world government?”

“Don’t matter to me. If marines try to stop me, I’ll just crush them.” The sinister chuckle that left the man’s lips made even the strongest marine tremble. Now, with a rushing set of footsteps coming towards him, Kidd continues to smirk.

A man about his own age was running full speed at him. A look of rage crossed his features as he clutched a knife tightly in his hands. Compared to himself, the man was nothing more than a twig. No muscle or anything to back him up with the fight he was looking for.

“Oh, this outta be fun.”

“Damn pirates! Leave our island alone!” The man lifts his arm to strike the notorious captain, only to be stopped by a suffocating grip. Without a second thought, Kidd’s hand gripped the scrawny man’s neck as he lifted him up. The man drops the knife to try and pry off the hand, squeezing his throat.

“How pathetic! A string bean like you thinks he can tell me what to do?” Kidd squeezes the man's throat harder and lifts him so they're eye to eye.

“News flash, I don’t like when people tell me what to do. I’ll show you what happens to people who do.” Clawing at Kidd’s hand, the man begins to see black in his vision as he starts to gasp.

“Please let my son go! He’s the only family I have!” An old man shows up hobbling fast towards Kidd and his crew. A cane in his left hand as he struggles to stay up.

“I don’t feel like it. Little fucker thinks he can try to attack me. Yet he didn’t even land a hit like the pathetic little thing he is.” Kidd laughs at the old man’s worried expression.

“I’ll do anything! Just please let my son go!” The old man gets on his hands and knees, begging the ruthless pirate for mercy.

“Bring me your mayor, and I’ll think about it.”

“I am the mayor! I promise, Captain Kidd, as I have the key to City Hall and everything!” The old man pulls out a key from his pants and lifts it towards Kidd.

“Well, would you look at that? How convenient. I didn’t even have to waste time searching.” Using his devil fruit powers, Kidd gravitates the key to his open hand. Looking at the key in his hand, he looks to his friend.

“What ya think, Killer? Should I let the small fry go?”

“Might as well. We have the mayor right here.”

“Looks like it’s your lucky day. Now scram before I change my mind.” The man is dropped with a thud. Holding his throat, he coughs harshly, with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Air finally returns to his lungs.

“Run home, son. Everything will be fine! Just go home.”

“But father-”

“Go home!” Despite his pleas, the scrawny man follows his father's orders. His throat bruised as he struggles to walk. His head spinning as the lack of oxygen has taken its toll. A crippling fear plagues the son as he walks home with unstable legs. The safety of his father was all he could think about.

“Now that that little nuisance is out of the way, we can finally get what we came here for.” Turning his attention to the old man, Kidd looks down at him.

“You either give us all the treasure this town has in its treasury, or I go back and break your son's scrawny little neck.” The mayor looks in horror at the man before him.

“I can’t! We’ve been saving it to build a marine base on the island! It’s taken us years to save up that money!” Kidd only laughs in the old man’s face.

“Too bad, old man! Now, you either give us all the treasure this shit town has to offer, or you’ll see its ashes fall from the sky!”

“But! The people need that for-” Not letting the old man finish, Kidd kicked him backwards. His fragile body hits the ground and is knocked out cold.

“Wrong answer, old fool! Burn it down and take everything! Leave no stone unturned!” Kidd watched his crew scatter before starting to break into businesses, houses, and other structures. Glass shattering, and the newfound screams sounded like music to his ears.

“Heat!” Calling out to his crew, he watches the bluenette approach him.

“Yeah Captain?”

“I want you to go kill that brat while burning down buildings.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning around laughing, Kidd’s amber eyes catch the glance of a woman hiding behind a building. Her face full of fear as she shook in her place. From where she stood, Kidd could see the way the light shone down on her. It gave her an almost angelic glow. For some reason, it ignited something inside him. Something that told him to ruin her. To rip off that halo and wings while he fucked her down to the second circle of hell. The image made him laugh as he began to move in her direction. Himmoving in the woman’s direction caused her to finally flee.

“Cat and mouse, aye?” Kidd snickers as he beckons the woman back; any metal she was wearing would drag her right back to him. He watches her stop in her tracks before being pulled back to him at full speed. Her shrieks of terror cause him to lick his lips.

The woman’s back collided with Kidd’s chest as he grabbed her wirst in an iron grip.

“Where do you think you're going?” The woman looked up at him, and he smiled at her. He watched her tremble in place.

“Y-Your Eustass Kidd…”

“Damn right. What? You afraid?” The way she uttered his name made the fire inside him only burn brighter. A delicate little thing like her screaming out his name as he left bruises on her skin had his mind running with wild thoughts.

“Please! Just let me go! I’ll give you all the money I have. Just please let me go!” He watched in amusement as the woman tried to twist and turn out of his grip. The hope dying in her eyes felt like an addictive drug. While taking in the woman's fear, he noticed a ring adorning her finger and a metal circle on your left wrist.

“Now, why would I let something I caught fair and square go?” Finally pulling her left arm closer to his view, he finds that the circle of metal adorning her wrist was, in fact, supposed to be a bracelet. A very shitty stainless steel bracelet that he could have easily made with his eyes closed.

“Your shitty stainless steel bracelet betrayed you, princess.” The nickname fell off his tongue so smoothly that it was almost like honey. He could feel his heart quicken at the little nickname that he decided there and then.

“My fiance worked hard to make it for me!”

“Don’t make me laugh! This is the shittest piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen!” How horribly it was made felt like an insult to him. He swore a baby could make one better. Using his power, Kidd manages to contort the ugly bracelet off the woman's wrist. He brought it closer to his face just to look at it once more, and that’s when he saw the flaw in the metal. He sees the woman reach for it but simply lifts it up out of her reach to inspect it more.

“Give it back!”

“It’s ain’t even pure stainless steel. Pathetic. Not even detailed, just a circle of metal." Using his devil fruit, he crushes the bracelet into the form of a ball. Small enough to be a bullet.

“Repel.” A laugh escapes him as he watches the small ball shoot into a store window. It shatters the entire thing and breaks something inside. Now, turning back to the woman, he smirks.

“Now, c’mon. You’re coming with me.” The woman's nails dig into Kidd’s hand. Her desperate attempt at freedom only made his lust for her grow.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, princess. I’m not a very patient person.” The woman's mouth opens to say something, but a loud voice pulls his attention away.

“(Y/N)! Get your hands off of her, you filithy pirate!” So that was your name? It felt fitting for a little thing like yourself. A lovely little princess like you with such an angelic name.

Looking at the person in front of him, he sees a ring adorning their left hand. It added up to the fact that this must be your fiance. AN annoyed look plastered on Kidd’s face as he realized that what should have been a quick thing was now actually gonna be a pain in his ass. Looking the fiance up and down, Kidd knew that they stood no chance against him. A single punch could take them down, no doubt.

“Is this your pathetic fiance? Ugh, I don’t have time to deal with you. I’ve got to take this treasure I found back to the ship.”

“(Y/N)’s not going anywhere with you! Let her go pirate!” Rage filled Kidd as another small fry thinks they can tell him what to do.

“Run (....)! He’s going to kill you!” Kidd let go of your wrist for a second, only to wrap his arm around your torso. He pulled you close to his chest as he trapped your arms to your sides with his strong grip. While he’d love to turn your pathetic fiance into a bloody puddle, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the Victoria Punk for safekeeping.

“Killer!” Not even seconds pass before his best friend shows up next to him.

“Yeah, Kidd?”

“I need you to kill them. Little shit thinks they can tell me what I can and can’t do.” He watches his buddy look down at the horrified woman in his arms.

“Who’s she?”

“My new plaything, cutie, ain’t she?” Kidd laughs as he holds onto you tighter. Your smell was intoxicating with how close you were to him.

“No! Leave them alone!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Kidd turns around just in time so you don’t see Killer murdering your fiance. But the screams could still be heard. He looks down and sees tears slipping down your cheeks as you weep in his grasp. The pathetic fiance felt like a worthless thing to cry about, in his personal opinion. But seeing your tears had his pants growing tighter.

“What a pretty sight, don’t you think?” The look of horror on your face as you watched your town burn to the ground made Kidd feel like we were on cloud nine. He just knew that the little angel he plucked from gods hand would surely be a fuck to experience.

~~~

“Oi Kidd.”

“What is it Killer?” Watching his friend approach him, Kidd simply took a hard drink of the alcohol in his hand. His eyes scanned the bar as he watched multiple women look at him with less-than-holy intentions.

“Do you want me to go unlock that chick on the ship now? She’s been on the ship since we took her from that island a week ago? Plus, you're at the bar getting plastered and beckoning other women over.”

“Nah. Keep her there a little longer. Plus, where would she go? It’s not like she has a home to go back to. I could honestly keep her as long as I want!” Laughing, Kidd took another swing of his drink. Having a personal fleshlight aboard the ship at all times was an opportunity only a fool would pass up.

“If you say so.”

“Come get a drink, Killer! Unwind and enjoy the lack of Marines!” Chugging down the alcohol, Kidd slammed down the empty glass on the table. His eye scanned the room, and despite the multiple women that occupied the bar, none gave him that rush that you did when he first saw you. While there were women who looked at him with lust, the fear that was in your eyes made more of an impact on his sexual desires.

Sure, he’s taken women to the Victoria Punk, but they're always gone before sunrise. No woman he’s brought to bed has ever spent a full day on the ship. Until you came along. You’ve spent a full week under the deck of the Victoria with only him and Killer knowing. And it’ll stay that way if he could help it. Having a secret little place to relieve his stress and get his fill sounded perfect for when he was stuck on the seas without a bar to be seen.

A little wingless angel stuck in the dark.

~~~

Stumbling along the hallways, Kidd can’t help but chuckle as he makes his way to your room. He’s been drinking till the early before a sudden lust flooded his body. The image of you laying beneath him was too stong to ignore. He wanted to hear your cries and moans. Wanted to feel your nails dig into his skin and cause him too bleed.

When he opened the door that kept you locked away, he saw you sleeping peacefully. Your face content as you lay on the tattered blankets that used to hold prisioners. The light giving him just enough to walk towards a crate to light up a lantern. Once he closed and locked the door again, the lantern was now the only sorce of light.

He stumbled over to where your head lay before sitting down. The vibrations caused you to stir, yet you refused to awaken fully. It caused a scowl to appear on Kidd’s painted lips before he tugged on a strand of your hair. The shock of your hair being tugged made your hand go to soothe the throb that followed suit.

Rubbing your eyes, you look up.”Kidd? W-Why are you here? It’s late.” Your confusion was clear in your voice, but Kidd paid no mind.

“Mmm…gonna fuck ya. Wanna hear my princess cry out my name.” Slurring his speech, Kidd laughs as he grabs your wrist and drags you up to him. The chain attached to your ankle rattled as he had you face to face.

The fear that still swirled in your eyes got him drunker than any alcohol could ever do. Your soft skin against his rough, calloused hands felt as if he were touching something sacred.

Grabbing your chin, he pulls you in for a kiss. He could feel you try to pull away, but you were no match for his strength, and he loved that. How weak you were compared to him had his already hard cock throbbing. You were the defenseless little princess who relied on him for everything.

The kiss only got deeper as he spurred himself on in his head. He pushed his tongue past your lips and groaned when he felt your own. Your taste was sweet as he explored your mouth. No matter how many times he’s kissed you, it always felt just as electric as it did the day he first kissed you. Your lips are so soft as they smudged his lipstick with how harshly he was kissing you.

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he slammed you down on the ground before climbing on top of your body. His lips were still locked with yours as your scent overwhelmed him. It sent a fire hot sensation in his abdomen as he started to press closer to you.

Bringing both wrists above his head, he holds them both with one hand. With his other hand now free, he runs his fingertips underneath your shirt. He feels you shiver against his touch, and it causes one to go down his own spine.

Pulling his lips away from yours, a thick strand of saliva connected his mouth to yours. Hearing you gasp and pant for breath makes him slightly grip your wrists harder as he stares down at you. Your lips were swollen from his harsh kiss and sporting the lipstick that once adorned his own lips.

“K-Kidd, you're drunk. Perhaps you should just sleep. You don’t want a hangover, do you?” The nervousness and pleas that slipped past your lips went unheard by him. All he could see was his princess lying under him. Even though you tried to squirm and wiggle away, all Kidd felt was you rubbing against him.

“Fuck.” Kidd whispers under his breath as he begins to rub his clothed cock against you. His face is right above yours as he feels your breath fanning against his face. Through his lidded eyes, Kidd can see your eyes are closed, and you're biting your bottom lip.

Moving both your wrists to one hand, Kidd uses his free one to grab your chin. “Fucking look at me. I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” Kidd can feel his heart double in speed when he’s met with your eyes staring at him intensely yet glassy.

Kidd groans out before licking his lips. Letting go of your chin, Kidd reaches down to unbuckle his pants. His eyes still strained on you and he can’t help but notice all the bites and bruises he’s adorned on your body since you’ve been here. It only makes Kidd’s need for you higher.

“What if we do this tomorrow?” Your words break through Kidd’s lust-clouded mind. ”You won’t even remember this since you're drunk, right? We can do it tomorrow!” Beads of sweat dropped from your forehead as you talked to Kidd. Obviously hoping that he might fall for the bait.

Kidd’s eyes stare at you before letting out a yawn. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds before getting up and moving away from your body. Only to grab it seconds later and drag you to lay on the tattered blankets. He fell on top of you, making you let out an ‘oof’.

The warmth your body excluded made made Kidd’s eyes grow heavy as he let out another yawn. Placing his head onto of your breasts, he allowed his drunken self just an hour or two to sleep before going back into his own quarters. No harm in a measly two hours.

~~~

The sky filled with smoke as Kidd angrily desetroyed anything he deemed mocked him. Living or not, his anger was his own fault as ahe had no one to blame but himself. Ever since that drunken night he slept by your side, he’s never been able to sleep normally again.

Before he used to sleep all throughout the night but now. He’d wake up every two hours reaching out for someoen that wasn’t there. He’s never slept with someone all night. Or at all. But now that he’s gotten a taste of what it felt like to sleep next to someone, it wans’t something his body could sleep without. And it pissed him off.

Sure, he loved fucking you whenever he wanted, but now, it’s like he can’t go even an hour without thinking about you. Working in his workshop became a pain in the ass as he could be working on his crew’s weapons only to see your eyes staring at him in his imagination. How blown over they are when he fucks you or how you looked at him when he even enters a room.

He couldn’t even sleep with other women anymore cause his mind kept going to you! All there was was you. It pissed him off to the point he didn’t bother seeking you out of your company for a week and counting. A small part of him begged to go below deck to see the angel he stole from god. Yet the other him spoke curses on how you’ve affected him. It felt as if his head was splitting from the battle going on inside him.

“You're scowling more than usual. What’s wrong?” His friend's voice broke through his thoughts as he stood next to him.

Running a hand through his hair, Kidd hisses. “It’s not something you can help with, so buzz off.”

“Is it about that girl below deck?”

“(Y/N).”

“Yeah her?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Snapping his head towards the masked man, Kidd glared at him.

“Something obviously happened, so stop trying to act like nothing did.” Killer crossed his arms as he looked at his stubborn friend.

“She’s invading my mind like a damn disease! Can’t even go an hour without her popping up in my mind! Not to mention, I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a month!”

“Can’t even fuck another whore without imagining it’s her! It’s pissing me off! Is this some sort of devil fruit?!” A snort comes from behind Killer’s mask, making Kidd madder.

“Jesus christ, your so stupid.”

“I’m not fucking stupid! If you know what's wrong with me, then spit it out!”

“It’s called falling in love, you idiot.”

Kidd’s eyes widened as he felt his heart stop. “No shot! That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard! I’m not falling in love.”

“Oh really? Well then, let her go, it’s been six months-”

“-No.”

“You're not in love with her, but you refuse to let her go?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Kidd. Whatever you say.”

~~~

Bursting open the door, Kidd stomps through his room. His rage fills the small space as his heart beats harshly. Once again, a marine ship ruined his supply trip to an island. While normally he wouldn’t care and go on and fight, Killer advised against it. Kidd had a good amount of sake a few hours earlier and wouldn’t be on his A game if they took charge.

While Killer was right, Kidd was still upset that he wouldn’t be able to get supplies for his crew for another day till they reached the next island. His crew had to go hungry for a day simply because of some annoying marines.

“God fucking damnit! Those fucking marines keep getting in my way!” Kidd’s eyes scan the room as he tries to find something to throw. When his eyes landed on a metal butterfly he made for you, he grabbed it off the dresser in a quick movement.

“Fuck!” Throwing it as hard as he could, he aimed for the bedroom door, which was already covered in marks from the other times he'd thrown knives at the door. The sound of a sucked-in breath makes him snap his head in your direction.

“What the fuck are you staring at?!” He watches you scoot away from him, and it only fuels his drunken rage. Who did you think you were to run away from him? To look at him with that face? Do you think it's funny when shit doesn't go his way?

His anger only heightened even more as he wrapped his hand around your foot. Digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you from him.

As soon as you were close enough to him, he grabbed your neck and lifted you into the air. “I said, what the fuck are you staring at?!” He watched you try to pry off his fingers off your neck. The small sting your nails brought only served to piss him off more.

“You're happy, aren’t you?! Do you think the Marines are going to catch me, and you’ll be free?! Is that it?!”

“I-I can’t breathe…Kidd please…” He watched as tears streamed down your face and onto his hand. The tear felt like a needle poking into his heart.

“Stupid bitch!” Stumbling over his own feet, Kidd chucks you against the wall. He watched you hit the wall and onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’ before what sounded like a crack whispered in his ears. He examines your body, not moving, and it causes a hard scowl on his face.

“Get up, damnit! I barely threw you!” Growling, Kidd wobbles over to your body before falling to his knees. His sight is blurry as his head seems to pound. When he slid his fingers through your hair, his brain failed to register the wet substance that coated his hand. He pulls on your hair so he can look you in the eyes.

“Fucking pathetic! Why do I even keep you around when you're so fucking useless?!” Your silence had Kidd’s drunken self slightly coherent.

“Hey! I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” He grabs your face and, through his drunken haze, starts to see a red liquid drip down your face. A red handprint of blood was left on your cheek when he slightly moved his hand.

Your eyes fluttering shut made him sober up as the blood running down your face finally set in.

“Oi! Keep your eyes open!” Moving his hand in front of your face back and forth, his heart rate peaks when he finally watches your eyes fully close. Pulling your body close to his own, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you harder. Worry sets in as you don’t respond.

Picking you up to carry you, he hastly stumbles out of his room and makes a dash to the infirmary. The sound of his footsteps echoed through out the halls. His mouth goes dry as your lack of movement sobers him up to accurately find the room.

To his luck, Killer was already in the infirmary, counting on what they needed to restock.

“Killer, I fucked up.”

~~~

His eyes stared at the carved door as he laid his head on your chest. Your heartbeat pounding in his ears as he tried to ignore the small blood splatter on the floor that he forgot to clean up after the incident.

Your fingers running through his hair did little to calm the thoughts in his head. Even though he laid against you, he felt it wasn’t close enough. Close seemed to not be close enough.

Lifting his body up, he laid down next to you before he pulled you to his chest, you hair slightly tickling his skin. He wrapped his arms around you all the way to the point you wouldn’t be able to leave. Moving his legs, he tangled his limbs with yours. Only then did he feel you were close enough. Your scent a silent lullaby as he raced with thoughts. What if’s ran rampant.

‘What if I just took a nap instead?’

‘What if you got hurt even worse then i thought?’

‘What if you didn’t wake up?’

The thought of you no longer sharing his bed caused a panic to settle in Kidd’s stomach. Your warmth had become the only thing that allowed him to sleep peacefully. Hearing you breathe managed to be the only stress reliever that worked.

It was obvious to him now, that no matter what he might say, he couldn’t live without you.

~~~

The sound of the waves crashing against the beach felt like laughter as Kidd watched you sailing away on a ship he’d never seen before. His scream out to you echoed across the water only to come back to him, mocking him for being too late. Now, he got to watch the only thing that made him calm leave him.

The sand below him showed muddy footprints before being washed away by the ocean. Thunder and harsh rain poured down on Kidd, his hair sticking to his face as the rain pelted down his hair. Whether it was rain or tears that slid down his cheeks was anyone's guess. It felt as if time stopped while he tried to piece together what now?

His goal to find the one piece and become King of the Pirates still ran strong through his veins, but now it felt different. Not even days before this, he began to dream of when he’d finally be called King of the Pirates, when you’d be clinging to his arm and congratulating him, kissing him, and telling him you loved him. But now, that’s what it’d only be—a dream.

~~~

It’s been months since Kidd watched you sail away. Each night was plagued with that image of you sailing farther and farther away from him, every time only seconds late. Not a night went by where he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat. He’d reach out for you and be hit with the painful reminder that it was real—that you were gone.

Yet no matter where he went, it always felt like he saw you out of the corner of his eye. Or how sometimes he’d hear your voice in his ear. But when he turned to check it out, there was nothing. It felt as if he was going insane without you. And while there was intense longing, there was rage.

How dare you leave him? Don’t you know how much you meant to him? Hasn’t he shown he’s learned his lesson? He’s told you he loved you and you still left him. You have no one other then him, he made sure of it. Yet you still left.

Killer tried to tell him to get over you, that there were plenty of other fish in the sea, but he knew what he meant. He shouldn’t be shocked. You weren't even supposed to be with him for as long as you were. It was only a matter of time before the ‘relationship’ Kidd built with you would burn before his eyes. Even if he refused Killer’s words, any sane person would have agreed.

But now here he was, missing you with fury boiling inside him as he stared out over the crowd in the auction house. Privileged entitled assholes as far as the eye can see. All waiting for the show to begin.

~~~

Emotions pumped through his veins as he stared at himself in the mirror. A small splatter of blood on his cheek as all he could think about was you. How happy he was that you were back where you belonged. That after months of sleeplessness not knowing where you were, you were finally back in his arms. Whether you liked it or not wasn't something he cared to hear. He had you first. Those damn Straw Hats took you away, but now, you were back.

But you came back with a price.

Whatever happened in those months you were away changed you. All you did was fight and yell, scream and punch. Instead of the quiet angel he stole, a venomous fallen angel stood before him. But despite missing his fearful princess, the fight you put up managed to also have his blood pumping hotter. Watching you try to fight him only to lose gave him a high that only your fear could compare to.

Seeing your eyes widen in fear when he threatened to cut off your legs made a shiver of pleasure shoot up his spine. Even after you spit venom, he could not help but want you even more. Having you so close to him again made his body go haywire. Hearing you scream out in pain reminded him of when you screamed out his name in such a different, lustful tone. Watching tears stream down your face when he threw punch after punch had him resisting the urge to fuck you bloody and bruised.

While the image was tempting, he had things to do, and he couldn’t let you think you got away with it. So he’d just send Killer down to patch you up after you’d been drenched in your own blood for a while. Maybe it’ll give you some time to contemplate. But if not, that’s okay.

He kinda liked that taste of your blood.

~~~

His heart couldn’t help but leap when he felt your lips running smoothly against his own, your warm skin glowing underneath his fingertips as you cupped his face. A calm washed over him at the small gesture. He pulled you closer and kissed you deeper, never wanting to let you go. But when he pulled away for a breath, he saw the stains of his lipstick on your face, the sight making him smile.

Kidd couldn’t help but feel the shiver that ran down his spine when he felt your breath against his neck. The rigid, cold metal of the collar on your neck had him silently sick in a breath.

“If you're gonna make me a new collar, can it be one I can sleep in?” When you mumbled those words into his skin, flashbacks from that fateful day rushed back to him. How you got out of your collar, so he obviously had to make a bigger and better one. And now you're trying to get a different one?

“Do you know why you're in that collar?” He looked down and was met with your pleading eyes.

“I ran away.” Kidd grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his hips harshly. Anger starts to surface at the memories.

“Yeah, you did. How can I trust you not to do it again, hmm? This collar makes my devil fruit powers work even better than the last one. So why should I give rewards to bad girls?”

“Can I do something to make it up to you?” The idea Killer shut down a week ago comes back to his mind. He’s done a few good studies to understand how it works, and it sounds pretty easy—easy and a perfect way to show everyone who you belong to.

“Take off your shirt.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me. Take it off.” Kidd watches you with heat pooling in his abdomen as he takes longing glimpses at your bare chest.

“Back to me.” He watches you listen and can’t help but run his fingers along your skin. Tracing your spine causes a shiver to run down his.

Getting up, he placed you down on the chair before tying you to it with a piece of metal. The sight makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

“H-Hey! What the hell!” Kidd only laughed before turning away from you.

“You know, Killer originally talked me out of this, but since you wanted to be rewarded for bad behavior, I think it’ll go nicely with your new collar.” A rush of power surges through Kidd’s bones as he collects everything he needs.

“It’ll also show anybody who tries to take you away from me that you belong to me.” With his hands finally full, Kidd turns back to you. Your face goes rigid as he walks in your direction, which in turn makes you try to scoot away. Grabbing the side of the chair, he brings you back to him.

“Don’t worry, princess, I did my research.” A major rush of power flowed through Kidd's veins as he watched you struggle to escape.

“This is completely unreasonable! You can’t be serious!”

“You wanted to make it up to me? Well, here's your chance.” Kidd could see the panic in your eyes as he started to heat up the metal pole in his hands.

“There has to be something else, please, Kidd!” In a swift and rash motion, Kidd threw his hand towards you and felt your cheek collide with his knuckles.

“Be fucking grateful that I’m even giving you this chance! Those damn Straw Hats taught you that you can be a brat! I’m going to kill each one of those fuckers! I’ll do it in front of you so you can see what happens when you leave me!”

“You’ll never beat them! They’re gonna come for me and kick your ass!” Red clouded Kidd’s vision hearing your words. Grabbing your hair, he tugs it back so you face him. The tears in your eyes go ignored as Kidd’s grip on the metal pole tightens. He didn’t give you a second to speak before pushing the burning hot pole on your chest.

The scream you let out when the metal was fully pushed onto your skin swiped him out of his rage. The red that once blinded him was now gone as he quickly pulled away from you. He’d never heard something so ear-piercing and painful in his life. It echoed all throughout his workshop, and he felt a panic set in when he noticed he skipped a step in his rage and how you’ve now passed out.

“Shit! Shit! Oi, princess!” Grabbing your chin, his eyes studied your face to see any sign of consciousness, yet he was met with none. His heart rate spiked as he ripped away the metal he tied you with before carrying you bridal style. He rushed to the infirmary and cursed himself internally for not following all the steps as he tried to ignore the graphic third-degree burn on your chest.

~~~

All he could feel was numb, yet a pain that was indescribable when you moved his head to look at his arm. What once used to be a full limb was now nothing more than a stump. He could see his body covered in bandages as the memory of what happened came back to him. Words couldn’t seem to form as he felt his dreams crash down around him.

“You should lay down and make sure everything heals properly.” Using the arm he had left, Kidd pulled you onto his lap. Burying his head into your scarred chest, it's then that he feels the tears on his own cheeks.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s cried like this, or if he’s ever cried like this. Crying so hard that he struggled to breathe and began to shake. It felt like the walls were closing in on him as he cried into your chest. All he could think of was how would he become King of the Pirates with one arm? It set him back so much that he felt hopeless.

But when you wrapped your arms around him and slid your fingers through his hair, he pulled you closer despite his bandaged torso. The slight pain he felt was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside.

“Just breathe, okay? In and out.” Following your command, Kidd tries to copy your breathing despite continuing to cry. Your now-soaked shirt rubbed against his face, and it only worsened the pain in his heart.

The small and gentle tune you began to hum made his hold tighter. He never wanted to let you go as you comforted him when he needed you the most.

~~~

Kidd sat on a chair next to you in the hospital bed as worry and fear took over him. His anger once again took charge and caused him to hurt you horrifically. Seeing you laying there with bandages covering your head caused a guilt he’s never felt before. He remembered the amount of blood you lost when he ran you to the hospital. It dripped from your head all the way to the hospital.

He managed to nab a doctor right away and have him work on you. Every second you were in the surgery room felt like hell. And what the doctor told him what the diagnosis was made Kidd’s heart clench.

“Since she fell off your ship, there's no doubt she has a sort of head/brain trauma. Long-lasting effects could stem from this injury. Here’s a list of some effects that you can read while I go grab another IV bag.”

Which is where Kidd sat now. Watching you breathe. Watching you breathe with the crumbled up list in hand. Your eyes closed as you sleep, unaware of the wreck he is. Grabbing your hand, Kidd brought it close to his lips and kissed your knuckles before holding it against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, princess. You can pull through this. You have to.”

Caressing your face, Kidd looks at you, sleeping peacefully. The moonlight shining off you gave you that same angelic glow he saw you with all those years ago. Despite the scars that covered your body, you were still so beautiful. Rubbing your cheek, Kidd looked down at you lovingly.

“This is how it should be, sleeping next to me.” With your legs tangled in his, Kidd scoots his body closer to yours before kissing your forehead. A wicked smile slithers along Kidd’s face.

“All those memories gone. No more talking about home. No more flinching, no more Straw Hats.”

“Those bastards, trying to play hero and stole you from me. Thinking your up for grabs when you obviously belong to me. Meant for me. You were meant to be mine and stay by my side. Why else would I have gotten a second chance?”

“Now, I’ll always have you. You look up at me with loving eyes instead of hatred. Instead of hitting me, you run up to hug me. You kiss me passionately like I’ll disappear any moment. I love it when you run up to me and jump so I can catch you. I love it when you sit next to me while I work in my workshop, giving me praise. If I had known you hit your head harder, I would have you in my arms willingly…”

“Then I would’ve thrown you against the wall harder.”

~~~

‘That selfish prick! After everything I’ve done to keep her in the dark, he comes around and fucks it up! Everything was going great! She loved me yet-’

“Fuck!” Slamming his metal hand against the bench in his workshop, Kidd begins to tear it apart. Weapons were thrown to unknown corners of the room, pieces of metal scattered across the floor, and a dent in the bench.

Kidd gritted his teeth as his whole body uncontrollably shook. The dried blood staining his hand only continued to serve his rage. Because even if Heat was already dead, the damage had been done. The day of you holding him tight and kissing him was over. He’ll never be able to feel you close to him again. At least, not without a fight.

Hot tears began to stream down his face as he gripped the dented bench with an iron grip. His tears felt like an acid against his skin as his vision blurred. The smirk the bastard wore while he bled out behind you burned into Kidd’s memory.

Giving you a devil fruit, a logia type at that was infuriating. How the hell did he manage to get it on the boat and have you eat it? You were always by his side, so how could Heat have given it to you? The day of the fight? Or when he caught you and Heat talking to each other alone? How could he not see the signs earlier? Why did it take the busting open of your old cell door twice for him to finally understand what he needed to do?

Yet it was too late.

“God damnit.” Kidd swallowed the lump in his throat before letting out a sniffle. “This is bad. How am I gonna fix this? There’s gotta be a way-”

“Kidd.” The workshop door opens, and Killer stands in the doorway. Quickly wiping his tears, Kidd tries to regain steady breathing, hoping Killer doesn’t see his moment of weakness.

“What Killer?”

“You better have a good plan. Explain where Heat went and where (Y/N) went.” Kidd stays silent, which is all Killer needs.

“Did you-”

“I saw everything from the shadows. This could be a sign, you know?”

“What kind of fucking sign?”

“You know what kind of sign I’m talking about.” Silence covers the workshop.

“Maybe it’s time to let her-”

“No!” Kidd slams his metal hand on the bench with enough force to cause another dent.

“Well, what do you think you should do then?” Once again, the workshop goes silent.

“Giving you a week to decide for (Y/N). As for Heat, better pull something good out of your ass.” Just as soon as Killer entered, he left. Leaving Kidd to wallow in his predicament.

~~~

“Do you really think she’s on this island, Kidd? It’s been a week since the paper came out.”

“She will be on this island. If she isn’t, I’ll kill anyone I need to to figure out where she went. I don’t want a single civilian to go unquestioned. If they refuse to tell you, don’t be afraid to use violence.”

The bustling port of Haylard Island has Kidd’s eyes scanning every inch of movement. If you were on that dock, he wanted to make sure he saw you. There was no room for him to be making mistakes. He’s already made enough.

“Burn down buildings, steal supplies, and anything you think is worth something. Do not stop until the ashes block out the sun.”

“Yes, captain!” Hearing his own crew leave, Kidd finally let out a shaky inhale while looking down. The sea stared back at him, once again mocking him for losing you.

“Laugh all you want, but take my word. I’ll burn and kill my way back to her. And nothing will stop me until she’s in my arms.”

~~~

Despite the night once being full of cheers, the marine group of G-5 now found themselves fighting for their lives. What should have been a celebration was now a fight to the death as they were ambushed in the dark of the night. The once-empty sky was now covered in flaming arrows heading directly toward them.

“Everyone, man, your stations! We’re under attack, so get ready for a fight!” The captain's commands echo throughout the ship, and no one wastes a second. Running up and down the ship, Captain Tashigi checks to see if everything is in order to ensure supreme safety.

“Captain!” the sound of a terrified marine rings through her ears as she runs to the voice. Coming up from below the deck, she’s met with fire and smoke. It felt as if her heart was going to explode as all she could hear was marines yelling and the flickering of flames.

The flames only got higher as she tried to figure out what to do. Before she went below deck, they were able to contain the fires, but now, it’s almost consumed the entire deck. With how fast the flames were spreading, there was no doubt that the ship would be at the bottom of the sea before sunrise.

Grabbing a transponder snail she kept in her pocket, she began to call the nearest marine base to help with the attack. She realized this wasn’t a battle they could fight on their own.

“Hello! This is Captain Tashigi of G-5. We need backup right away! We’re under attack, and the ship is engrossed in flames!”

“G-5, this is (....)! We will send you back up right away! What are your locations, and can you see the attackers?”

“Our coordinates are (-------)! I don’t know, as the flames are so tall and the smoke is-” The whole ship shook as something hit the deck, causing Tashigi to drop the transponder snail and fall backward.

“-Oof!”

“Captain are you okay?”

“Something just hit the boat! I’m unaware of what it is!” Quickly getting back on her feet, Tashigi grabs her sword along with the transponder snail.

“I’m going to go check it out.”

“Keep us on the line.”

“Will do.” Putting the snail away for safekeeping, Tashigi grips her sword with both hands as she starts to walk carefully through the flames.

As soon as she stepped in, the sound of a marine screaming echoed across the deck. Panic set in the captain's stomach as her hands began to shake. The screams of pain and terror only caused more panic to set in. But she’s the captain. She has to be strong. She can’t back down.

“G-5, what’s going on?!” The screams of pain and agony continue before a loud audible SNAP rings in Tashigi’s ears. Assuming the worst, she feels all the color drain from her face.

And just like that, it was quiet.

“G-5?” With her voice trembling, Tashigi couldn’t help but be frozen in place.

“Tashigi.” Before she could scream, a rough, calloused hand covered her mouth. Looking in her peripheral vision, she saw Vice Admiral Smoker motioning her to shush. Nodding her head, Smoker lowered his hand.

“What’s going on, Vice Admiral?”

“Almost the entire deck has been engulfed in flames. We need to go to the other side of the ship.”

“But what about-”

“It’s silent over those flames, Tashigi.” With tears prickling in her eyes, she understands what he’s saying despite wishing it not to be true. Grabbing her hand, Smoker runs to the end of the ship, where there are fewer flames. Their footsteps echo, giving away their position to the attackers.

As she was running, Tashigi’s sword started vibrating before being completely pulled from her hands. She watched it fly backward and into the flames. A metal thunk rang across the deck, making her eyes widen. When she looked into the flames, she felt her heart stop.

Walking through the flames was no other than the man who had the whole new world in the palm of his hand.

“V-Vice Admiral…it’s-”

“Go hide, Tashigi. I’ll handle this.” Putting himself in front of her, Smoker points towards the darkness.

“But-”

“I’ll be fine. Go hide. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”

With a tremble in her voice, she responds. “Okay.”

Running into the darkness, Tashigi searches around with a racing heart, desperate to find a hiding spot. The sound of unintelligible yelling and metal clanking only makes her search more frantic. She should be fighting, but if Smoker says to hide…

“Killer! Go after the girl. She ran straight ahead.”

“You’ll have to get past me first. Both of you.”

“Vice Admiral.” Whispering to herself, Tashigi runs around some more before spotting an empty barrel. With no more time to spend, she jumps in.

As she gets as comfortable as she can, she puts the barrel lid over her head, leaving her in complete darkness. Her knees pressed against her chest as she struggles to take deep breaths. She tries to prevent herself from shivering.

‘This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’ She thinks to herself as tears slip down her cheeks. She knew the stakes there were to bring you to Sabaody, but they were so careful about not giving away. It was then taking care of you. How did Kidd figure out it was them?

A loud thud can be heard throughout the deck before silence. No words were spoken, and the fear was only intensified. Tashigi felt her throat grow dry as she started to hear boots shuffling along the deck.

Sounds of things being searched causes her heart to beat out of her chest. Her body begins to shake as she hears the boots walking towards her hiding spot.

The moonlight soon shines down on her as the barrel's lid pops open. She looks up and sees no one. The moonlight shone down on her as she feared who had opened the lid, but she soon gets her answer.

“Found you.”

~~~

Haven't been able to draw for shit so no picture

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#one piece x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #tw: violence #tw: abuse #tw: blood #tw death #dark content things

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igotanidea · 1 year

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that damn gala: Jason todd x fem!reader

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

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

hope you'll like it: )

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

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

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

“Because you truly had no other option?”

“I hate you.”

“We both know you don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you, Dick.”

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

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

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

“See you, Dick.”

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

***

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

“I am…” she groaned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jace….” She whispered closing her eyes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I had my suspicions about that.”

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

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

***

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

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

“Richard.” Babs smiled at her boyfriend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will owe you twice” Dick pleaded

“That is tempting…..”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“We are not in workplace, are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

If only he knew…..

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

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

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

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

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

“What is going on here?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hell no!” Tim screamed

“What the…..?” y/N said in surprise

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

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

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

“I’m sorry but…..”

“You are not sorry.”

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

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

“Jason.”

“Back off, replacement!”

“Jason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you kidding me now Y/N?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who wasn’t?” Tim scoffed

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

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

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

“Thanks Dami, but…..”

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

“What did you do Jace?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you beat him Jace?”

“He was supposed to watch out for you!”

“I said I’m fine!”

“But who knows what could have happened?!”

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

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

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

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

“a bit?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay….”

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

“Jason….”

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

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

“Only kind of?” he smirked

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

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

“I never said it.” She scoffed

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

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

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

“by accident?” she raised an eyebrow

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

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

“I wasn’t planning on, but…..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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