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notkageyamasprincess · 3 years

Text

what’s so wrong about us? | kageyama tobio x reader

characters: nii-chan!kageyama tobio x reader

genre/warnings: smut, incest, degradation, blackmail, dubcon, slight exhibitionist kink, unprotected sex

words: 2.0k

summary: you and tobio-nii don’t have a typical brother-sister relationship. how far can you go without getting yourselves caught?

notes: please please read the warnings.

“Haah…mhn…w-wait, we can’t! Mom and Dad are coming home tonight, we have to get ready.”

Your hands clutched at the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. Kageyama pulled your lower half closer to him so that your ass hung over the edge of the bed, and kneeled between your legs, fucking you furiously with his fingers and tongue. You felt his hot breath fan over you as he removed his mouth.

“That’s exactly why we have to do it now. Let me taste you and get my fill.”

You cried out when he dragged a long digit against your sensitive spot and sucked your bud harshly, making you tighten around him and spray your release.

“Ah, not so rough! I’m still…ah, so-sore.”

Your older brother wiped his face with a towel and responded by spreading your quivering thighs even wider, drinking in the view of your glistening cunt.

“Well, looks like down here is really enjoying it. This slutty pussy wants more, doesn’t it?” He plunged his fingers back inside, fucking into you, filling the room with your wet noises. “Hear that? God, your cute pussy’s just dripping all over my hand. But you’d rather me stuff it full with something else, don’t you?”

You could only moan his name, too far gone to string together a coherent sentence. He was already edging you closer and closer to another orgasm. “Mmhn…yes…a-ah… Tobio.”

He frowned, stopped completely and took out his fingers, licking them clean of your juices. “Wrong name. Did you forget what to call me?”

“Sorry, Nii-chan…”

“Good.” He resumed his ministrations, slowly rubbing the inside of your walls. “Now, how do we ask for what we want?”

“Please…Nii-chan.”

Kageyama shook his head. “You can do better. What happened to the good little whore from yesterday, huh? Begging so sweetly to cum from her Nii-chan’s cock?”

You whined in desperation. “Tobio-nii, please! Please stretch out my hole with your fat cock. Want Nii-chan to fill me up with his cum.”

He grinned and nodded approvingly. “Good girl,” he cooed, unzipping his jeans. “Time for my pretty cumslut to get her reward.”

You heard the jingling of keys and the front door unlocking.

Your eyed widened and your brother cursed. “Shit, they weren’t supposed to come back this early.”

Your mother called out first. “Kids! We’re home and we brought takeout! Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“____, Daddy got you a souvenir on his business trip, come see what I have for you.”

“Really? Thanks Daddy! I’ll be down in a second, Tobio-nii’s uh…helping me with something.”

You rushed to put your skirt back on and made your bed while Tobio put on a large hoodie to hide his erection.

+++++

You took a sip of water, trying not to think about what you and your brother were just doing as you chatted over dinner. The conversation moved onto work-related matters, so you sat and ate quietly while your parents exchanged stories.

Kageyama leaned over to reach a dish on your side of the table. “____, give me a handjob,” he murmured in a low voice.

You quickly checked if your parents heard before whipping your head towards him. “No way in hell. It’s too risky,” you hissed.

“I didn’t get to cum and I’m hard again. It’s because of you, so take responsibility.”

“You’re not serious.”

“If you won’t do it, then I’m going to tell Mom and Dad everything we’ve been doing for the last few months,” he threatened.

You started getting nervous. “Nii-chan… you wouldn’t…”

Seeing your frightened expression, he started coaxing you more gently. “Come on, please? Help out your poor Nii-chan…he’s in so much pain. Be a good little sister for me, alright?”

You snuck a glance at your parents once more just to make sure they were still engrossed in their discussion before slipping a hand down his pants. Thankfully, the tablecloth is able to cover his lap. You felt his dick twitch in your palm as you gave him slow strokes.

“Tobio-nii, this is enough right? Let’s stop here.”

“Stop moving and I’ll lift up my hoodie and show them exactly what’s going on. You wouldn’t want to make Mom cry, do you?”

At that moment, the person in question piped up. “And what are you two whispering about?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

Tobio flashed her a sheepish smile. “Actually, we were trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it? You weren’t supposed to know, though.”

“Oh, how sweet! Well don’t let me ruin your surprise,” she replied, covering her ears. “I know nothing.”

She leaned her head on your father’s shoulder as he too, smiled at you both warmly. “We did a good job with our children, didn’t we?”

“Sure did, honey.”

If only they knew.

You felt so guilty.

The irony is, you would never want to do anything to jeopardise the happiness of your family.

You tried your best to act normal as your brother somehow managed to speak casually with your parents. You felt his length straining against his boxers—he was getting close.

You heard the clatter of a utensil on the floor. “Sorry ____, I dropped my spoon, would you mind picking it up for me?”

You crouched under the table and immediately felt him nudge your head towards his crotch. He forced the head of his shaft between your lips, muffling your startled exclamations. He gave a few shallow thrusts before finishing in your mouth, and you swallowed out of habit. Tobio peered down at you discreetly, smiling in satisfaction. “Good girl,” he mouthed, patting your head.

As you shakily rose from the ground, your mother gasped sharply.

You froze. Were you caught?

“____ ____! Is that a hickey on your neck? Did you invite a boy over while we were gone? Young lady, what did I say about having boys over while we were out of the house?”

You slapped a hand to your neck in realization. Tobio left a mark on you the previous night and you had forgotten it was there. Despite still being in hot water, you were relieved that your mother didn’t seem to have an inkling of suspicion that it was your brother’s doing.

You began to make up an excuse, but Tobio cut in. “No, it’s my fault for letting her out of my sight. Don’t worry Mom, I’ll discipline her accordingly. She won’t have any more chances to fool around with boys if I have anything to say about it.”

“At least ____ has a responsible older brother like you, Tobio,” she sighed.

“It’s my job, after all. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

As if he wasn’t the one who almost revealed your dirty secret.

Your father chuckles. “Now honey, we were all at that age at one point. ____’s a big girl, she can handle herself and she knows what not to do.”

Except you apparently didn’t know not to have sex with your brother.

“Sweetie, you’re looking a little flushed, are you alright?” He cast you a concerned look.

Tobio took the opportunity to leave the table. There were other things he wanted to do anyways.

“Yeah Dad, now that you mention it, she doesn’t look very well. I’ll help her into her room.”

He guided you up the stairs and you slapped him away once you were out of earshot.

“Are you crazy? How could you do that with Mom and Dad sitting right across from us? You’re the worst. I hate having such a sick older brother like you!”

He feigns hurt but doesn’t take it to heart. He ushered you into your room and closed the door behind him. “Aw, princess, are you mad? I know I went a little too far but you enjoyed it too didn’t you? Don’t you love your Nii-chan?”

Tears began to prick at the back of your eyes. “This and that are different! You have no idea how terrible I felt when Mom talked about doing such a good job with us. We’re freaks. This…this is wrong,” you sniffled.

He caressed your waist softly and soothingly massaged your sides, rubbing circles into your skin with the pads of his thumbs, kissing away the tears that flowed down your cheeks.

“What’s so wrong about us? What’s so wrong about the way I feel, or the way you feel? Love is love, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He backed you up slowly until you reached your bed, and laid you down, all the while continuing to whisper words of comfort in your ear.

He sat down beside you. “You’re moving out for college soon and you can come live with me. I’ll have a stable job. We’ll be free.”

You hiccupped and nodded. Your mood began to brighten when you thought about your future together. You just wanted to be with him.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand snaking up your legs to toy at the hem of your panties. You squeaked in protest, but Tobio shushed you.

“You know, I was impressed with your behaviour today, you were being such a good girl for me, weren’t you? Why’d you have to ruin that? Your words made Nii-chan so sad.”

He shifted from his position to trap you between his knees. You made an attempt to shove him off, but he took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

“You know that Nii-chan doesn’t like brats. Our parents are still here, but once they leave, you know that I’ll have to punish you, right?”

“Hold on, let me check something.” He dipped a finger into your folds and smirked. “Ah, I was right. You’re wet from playing with my cock earlier. You enjoyed that just as much as I did. My cute little sister loves me this much, huh? It makes me happy.”

Tobio pulled his pants down halfway, tugged your underwear to the side and started grinding his bulge against your core. Your breath hitched in your throat. You could hear the sound of the tv and your parents cleaning up.

“Tobio-nii…hn…. s-stop, Mom and Dad might hear us!”

“Not until you say ‘Nii-chan, I love you’.”

“You said you weren’t going to do anything!”

“When did I say that?” He groaned when he felt your pussy clench over his clothed dick. “Fuck, you’re getting my boxers all damp. You shameless whore, you’re actually getting turned on from this.”

You tried squirming from his touch but accidentally grazed your clit on his erection, causing you to let out a moan. A dark grin appeared on Kageyama’s face, and he stripped off his bottoms, rubbing you with his bare cock.

“Mnh…Nii-chan, I…ah! Love you!” You panted. “I-I said it, so let’s stop already!”

Your lips parted when you felt him ease his length into your entrance.

“I changed my mind. It feels way too good when your sopping cunt is squeezing me like this.”

Your juices dripped down his shaft as he rammed himself harder inside you, hitting all the right places. “You dirty fucking slut, you actually want to get caught, don’t you? You can’t wait to see their expressions as they watch their kids fucking, huh? You just want me to drag you downstairs and take you on the kitchen table, right in front of their eyes, don’t you?”

You couldn’t think rationally, it felt so good; you were already hurtling towards your climax. He captured your lips to prevent your noises from escaping.

When he let you go, you realized that his hand was no longer holding you down. You braced your hands on his firm shoulders and your hips moved to meet his thrusts. You spread your legs open to take him deeper and he cursed at the sensation. “Shit, say it again, say that you love me.”

“Mmn, fuck…love you. Nii-chan, I love you!”

He pounded into you even faster. “That’s right. What’s so wrong about us?” he repeated. “What’s so wrong about a darling sister loving her Nii-chan?”

a/n: ngl it was damn hard to look my parents in the eye after writing this.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu dark content #kageyama smut #kageyama tobio smut #kageyama tobio x reader #cw:incest #kageyama x reader #cw: dubcon #cw: blackmail #hq smut #hq dark content #haikyuu x reader #jia writes

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calwrites · 3 years

Text

Fearless

Prequel to Don’t You

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Word count: 4.5k

————————

“Looks like it finally stopped raining.”

The murmur of the coffee shop was replaced by the sounds of the city as you followed Sebastian outside. The humidity seemed to hit you like a truck, making you miss the air conditioning you had just left.

“Finally. I thought I was going to be stuck in that coffee shop with you forever.” You laughed at the faux offended look on Sebastian’s face. “That’s what I get for not checking the weather.”

“Next time I’ll let you wait out the rain by yourself,” Sebastian threatened. His grin made the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit. Had they always done that? Had you just never noticed before?

“At least then I won’t have a bunch of teenage girls taking pictures of me the whole time. They’re scary. How do you deal with that all the time?” It had been disconcerting to have the group of girls staring at you and Sebastian as you sat and chatted. For a moment, you had thought you were crazy when you noticed them looking. The first thought you had was that you had something on your face or needed to fix your hair, but you realized why they were so focused on your table when they walked over to ask Sebastian for pictures.

Sebastian let out a sigh as he shrugged. For a second you were worried that you had said something wrong. “I just try to ignore it most of the time. I’m polite if they come up to me. I’d rather they like me than hate me.”

“I’m sure you have lots of stories. You’ll have to tell me sometime.” Your eyes widened when you realized what you’d said. What if he didn’t want to see you again? “I mean, if you’re staying in the city long. I’m sure you’re really busy.”

“I’ve got some promo to do soon, but I’m not filming again for a few months. I wanted a bit of the break.” Sebastian waved his hand. “Let’s not talk about my work. What about you? You taking the business world by storm?”

“Well I did just get a raise, so now I can almost afford my rent, groceries, and student loans.” The joys of living in New York City.

“Ah sounds like everything’s going well then. Are your parents still around?” Your parents had basically fallen in love with Sebastian when they first met him freshman year. A group of your friends had come over to your house for a movie night and Sebastian had insisted on staying to help you clean up after everyone else had left. Your mom had spent the next few weeks not so subtly dropping hints that she thought you should date him.

“Yeah they’re still in Jersey. They tried to convince me to move in with them, but I told them I didn’t want to have to commute into the city every day. Of course, that set them off about how that’s what they’ve been doing my whole life because they didn’t want me growing up without a yard or whatever.”

“So it sounds like they haven’t changed much?” You shook your head slightly to force yourself to stop watching Sebastian as he laughed.

“No they have not.” You bumped your shoulder against Sebastian’s gently. “They’re your number one fans, you know.”

“Oh they are?” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and he was already fighting a smile, no doubt waiting to hear what embarrassing things your parents had done since high school graduation.

“They see all of your movies in theaters.” Multiple times, but you didn’t want Sebastian to think they were weirdos.

“Even the bad ones?”

“Even the bad ones. I did tell them that they aren’t allowed to buy any of the Bucky dolls.”

“They’re action figures.”

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself matching Sebastian’s smile anyway. “Whatever. It’d be weird seeing a mini version of you at my parents’ house. It’s bad enough that they still have a bunch of high school pictures hung up.”

“My mom does too. She’s going to be so excited when I tell her that I ran into you. You were always her favorite of our group.”

You stopped suddenly, grabbing Sebastian’s arm. He looked a little alarmed, but you ignored it. “Are you serious? I was always so scared of her. This is the best day of my life.” You had met Sebastian’s mom a couple of times throughout high school, but had never been able to tell whether or not she liked you.

“Scared of her? Why? Because of the accent?”

“The accent didn’t help, but really it was because she’s hot. That makes her intimidating.”

Sebastian groaned and pulled a face. “No. You can’t think my mom is hot. That’s not allowed. Take it back or I’m sending your parents all of the Bucky dolls I can find.”

“It’s not like I wanted to bang her or anything. I just think that she’s an attractive woman. Which makes sense considering how attractive you are.” Your mouth snapped shut. You weren’t sure who was blushing more, you or Sebastian. “Let’s forget about this whole conversation.” Sebastian laughed slightly and nodded.

It was silent between you two as you continued your walk through the streets. You weren’t really sure where he was going. You were heading to your car, but you couldn’t tell if Sebastian was also going somewhere or if he was just following you. If you had looked up, you would have noticed that Sebastian was watching you carefully. But you didn’t look up. Your eyes were on the pavement, watching the glow of the lights in the reflection from the rain.

“Do you remember that poster that was in our English class freshman year?” you asked suddenly. Sebastian’s brow crinkled slightly as he tried to remember, but then he followed your gaze to the glowing pavement and smiled.

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” The two of you laughed slightly as you remembered your slightly eccentric teacher. “We made fun of that poster so much.”

“It was a stupid poster. But remember it was raining when we were leaving the homecoming dance freshman year and we started dancing in the parking lot-”

“And all of our friends thought we were crazy,” Sebastian finished. “To be fair, we were crazy. That was probably the most fun part of the dance though.”

“Are you saying that I was a bad date?” You gasped and brought your hand up to your mouth as if Sebastian had offended you. Both of you dissolved into giggles.

“I’m saying that I was probably a bad date. I was so awkward. I had such a big crush on you.” Sebastian rubbed his neck uncomfortably. You definitely didn’t notice how the action made his arms look.

“Wait really?” This was news to you. You had always kind of assumed that Sebastian didn’t like you very much. He had always seemed to just tolerate your presence.

“Oh yeah. All the guys used to make fun of me because I got so awkward around you. That’s why I never talked when you were with us.”

“I just thought you were shy or something.” Or that he secretly hated you.

“Well that too,” Sebastian admitted with a small grin.

“You should have just told me. I had a crush on you too. I was so excited when you asked me to the dance.” You were so engrossed in conversation that you almost walked right past your car. “Oh, this is me.”

“Oh.” Was it your imagination or did Sebastian look disappointed? Before you could figure it out, he was smiling again. “It’s been nice catching up. We should hang out again. You still have the same number?”

You assured Sebastian that you did and the two of you exchanged more pleasantries. After sliding into your car, you watched Sebastian continue down the street. The memory of the two of you dancing wildly in the parking lot while the rest of your friends complained about the rain made you smile. You kind of wished you had asked him to dance again.

————————

Part of you already wished that this weekend would never end, even though it had barely even begun. You had finally made it out of the city and still had a couple hours of driving left, but you were already dreading having to go back into the office on Monday.

You and Sebastian had been hanging out more since running into each other last month. Most of the time, you got away without any pictures of the two of you getting out, but recently that had been getting harder and harder to do. Now, through what you could only assume was some sort of social media stalking witchcraft, people had managed to figure out who you were. The hundreds of notifications had freaked you out at first, but after deleting all of the social media apps from your phone, it was totally not a big deal.

Until your coworkers had found out. Some magazine had printed a picture of you and Sebastian, including your name underneath it, so now everyone at the office was either making fun of you by pretending to take paparazzi pictures whenever you walked into a room or constantly asking about Sebastian. Needless to say, you desperately needed this weekend away.

“Hungry eyes,” Sebastian sang, rather poorly though you suspected that was on purpose. You had seen him in musicals in high school. He half turned towards you, reaching out with one hand while the other stayed on the wheel, as he continued to sing along to the music. “One look at you and I can’t disguise these-”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you scolded, though you couldn’t help but laugh at his bad attempt to hit a high note. “You know, I was worried that you would get us killed at the cabin, but now I know you’re going to get us killed before we even make it there. And stop caressing my hair.” You slapped his hand away for emphasis.

He reached out again to run a hand down your hair. “I am not caressing your hair-”

“Definitely were.”

“-and I am not going to get us killed. We are going to have a nice relaxing weekend at a cabin that I rented and am graciously letting you stay at without paying me back. And we aren’t going to worry about paparazzi or annoying coworkers or random people on the street with cell phones.” There may have been a incident earlier that week where you had almost gone up to a random person in the street to yell at them about taking pictures of you and Sebastian. It turned out they were just a lost tourist who barely spoke English. That was when Sebastian decided that you needed a vacation too.

“I think I’m paying you back by forcing myself to spend time with you. You’re very hard to get along with. Plus, I have no money for vacations. We can’t all be actors in Marvel movies.” The trees blurred by as Sebastian drove down the highway.

“You know, I could probably get you in the next Captain America movie. You might not have any lines, but you could stand in the background.” Had he ever offered any of your other friends from high school roles in his movies? No, you couldn't let yourself get caught up in these kinds of questions.

“Sebastian, thanks again-”

“Stop! I told you to stop thanking me-”

“Thanks again,” you continued loudly, “for inviting me. I know that you were looking forward to a relaxing weekend away before you have press stuff. If you want, we don’t have to talk to each other. I don’t want to ruin your relaxation.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his seat at your thanks, but then shot you an incredulous look. “How would you ruin my relaxation? I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”

“Promise?”

Sebastian sent you a smile that was so full of warmth that you could have melted right there. You were definitely getting caught up now. You tried to snap yourself out of it by thinking about all of the reasons you could never date Sebastian. First, he was Sebastian. He knew what you looked like when you were young and awkward. He had seen the awful bangs you cut yourself sophomore year. Second, he was Sebastian Stan. Surely he’d never date a nobody like you. Not that he was stuck up now. He was surprisingly similar to how he had been in high school. It’s just, he could date models if he wanted to. You were definitely not a model. And you wouldn’t even want to date someone in the spotlight like him. Third, you had been on like two dates with the skeazy guy from accounting. If you ignored most of what he said, he was only a little skeazy. Barely tolerable really. You could work with that.

But then Sebastian ran his hand through his hair, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything stupid. Did he know what he was doing or was he just naturally this cool now? Either way, it was going to be a long weekend.

————————

The dance was not fun. Whoever was writing the prom scenes in all of those cheesy movies was full of crap. The decorations looked bad, your dress was uncomfortable, and you were so busy making sure everything was running smoothly that you weren’t even getting to enjoy your senior prom. You never should have agreed to head the prom committee. Surely the night would be more fun if you didn’t have any responsibilities.

Except you’d probably still be standing on the edges of the dancing watching as all of your friends danced with their boyfriends. You had thought that this would finally be the dance you had a boyfriend for, but then your boyfriend broke up with you less than two weeks before because you were spending too much time working on prom. Great. Wonderful.

It had been difficult to mentally prepare yourself to go to senior prom without a date after working so hard on it. It had seemed almost poetic when Sebastian asked you. The two of you had gone to your first high school dance together and now you were at your last high school dance together.

Except Sebastian had barely talked to you all night. In fact, he had barely even looked at you. At least, that’s what you thought. Sebastian later confessed to you that he was scared he’d get in the way of your prom committee duties so he watched you from afar as you took care of the last minute issues. But you didn’t know that yet.

“Decided to actually acknowledge me?” you snapped when Sebastian leaned against the wall beside you.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. He was probably already regretting coming over to talk to you. “I probably deserve that. You just seemed busy.”

“There were a couple of issues that I had to take care of. I still want to enjoy the dance though.”

“So let’s enjoy it.” Sebastian held his hand out to you and nodded to the dance floor. You smiled gratefully at him and took his hand, letting him lead you out.

Neither of you were great dancers, and the dance floor was maybe a little too crowded, but you made the best of it. After bumping into another couple one too many times, you and Sebastian retired back to the wall, perfectly content to watch the others and whisper amongst yourselves.

“So have you had fun tonight?” Sebastian asked. You had, which was surprising considering how badly the night had started out. Sometimes you forgot how well you and Sebastian could get on. It was so rare to talk to him one on one. You really didn’t know how prom could have gone better. You were kind of disappointed that prom was wrapping up. Already, the dance floor had begun emptying as people left for various after parties.

“I did.” Sebastian grinned, obviously pleased with your answer. “But it wasn’t nearly as good as homecoming freshman year.”

Sebastian's smile faded as he tried to recall the dance you were talking about. “Wasn’t that dance really awkward though?”

“Sure the actual dance was,” you shrugged. “But dancing in the parking lot after was one of my favorite high school memories.”

Sebastian threw his head back to laugh, his hand resting on your shoulder to steady himself. “I’ll admit that I’m kind of glad it’s not raining tonight. My mom was not happy that I got my suit wet. But we can still dance like that tonight. There’s plenty of room on the dance floor.”

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed. “We’d look crazy.”

“Everyone here is either our friend or someone who we’ll probably never see again.” Sebastian held his hand out to you. You bit your lip as you considered before meeting his eyes. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Fine.” Sebastian laughed as you took his hand, once again allowing him to drag you onto the dance floor. He was truly fearless in his dancing this time. Obviously you had to follow suit and ignore the looks people were throwing you as you and Sebastian twirled and spun and jumped around. By the time it was time to leave the dance, you both were red faced and breathless with laughter. The sky was perfectly clear as you walked through the parking lot, but part of you wished it was raining so you could once again dance in a storm in your best dress with Sebastian.

————————

“I thought you weren’t talking to me because you didn’t really want to go with me.”

“What?” Sebastian took his eyes off the road quickly to look over at you. “Why would I ask you if I didn’t want to go with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe our friends told you to since neither of us had dates.”

“You’re crazy. I was so intimidated by you that I didn’t want to get in your way.” You scoffed and started to speak but Sebastian shushed you. “You’ve always been the most impressive person in the room.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Sebastian Stan thought that you were impressive. But what exactly did that mean? That he thought it was neat that you managed to wrangle high school students enough to plan prom? He said ‘you’ve always’ which seemed to imply that he still felt that way. Right? But he was a successful actor. He worked with people way more impressive than you every day.

The thoughts flashed furiously through your head as Sebastian continued to drive slowly through the town. He had certainly achieved his goal to get away from the city. It was hard to believe the small town you’d spent the weekend in was so in the same state as the city. Paparazzi had certainly not been a worry for the two of you. Eventually, the car reached the end of the road. Rather than turning around and heading back into town, Sebastian put the car in park.

“I don’t want to go back,” he sighed. You had to agree with him. You wanted to stay right there. It had been so relaxing to get away from it all. No paparazzi. No fans. No coworkers. Just you and Sebastian. But it couldn’t last. You had work, and Sebastian had interviews.

“So let’s stay here,” you suggested. “We’ll stock up on food and then barricade ourselves in the cabin. We’ll obviously have to defend ourselves when Marvel comes looking for you and my company comes looking for me, but I have complete confidence that we can take them.” Not that you had reached a position in the company where they would notice you were missing. Maybe after a week or two they’d notice something was off. Marvel was sure to be quicker though.

“Ha ha you’ve made your point.” He sighed again. “This has been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” Your voice sounded small in the sudden stillness of the car. Sebastian’s eyes flickered over your face, going from your eyes to your lips. “What did you mean earlier?”

“About what?”

“When you said that I was always the most impressive person in the room.” You were a little nervous about his answer. There was a good chance you’d made it out to be deeper than he meant. But then you remembered how fearless and free you felt when Sebastian led you out onto the dance floor at prom, and you knew you had to know the answer.

“Exactly that. I’m constantly in awe of you. The way you were the smartest person at school. I mean, I think you’re still the smartest person I know. I don’t understand anything you’re saying when you talk about work. You always knew exactly what to say to diffuse any of our friends’ drama. You’re kind and funny and always keep me on my toes.” Sebastian paused for a moment. You tried to speak, but all you could do was look at his beautiful blue eyes. “Running into you might be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Sebastian,” you murmured. Before you could think of anything else to say, Sebastian’s lips were on yours. You smiled into the kiss as you ran your fingers through Sebastian’s hair. It was the perfect length. You tried your best to capture the memory of this moment. The feel of his lips. His hand on your cheek. The faint sound of birds chirping outside. The patter of rain on the car roof. It was all perfect, and you wanted to remember every second of it.

———��————

You didn’t know how life could get better than this. Sebastian’s hand was entwined with your own as you walked through the streets. You had been nervous about this at first. What would his fans think? So far they had been curious but benign when it came to you. Hopefully that wouldn’t change now.

You had almost cancelled when Sebastian showed up at your door. A night in suddenly sounded really good. He hadn’t let you though. Instead, Sebastian had grabbed your hand and pulled you out onto the street. You laughed as he twirled you, causing the skirt of your favorite dress to flow out.

“Good thing it’s not raining today,” Sebastian had laughed. “This would be much less enjoyable if we were getting rained on.”

“I don’t know about that. I think we normally have a pretty good time in the rain.”

You had managed to walk to the restaurant without being spotted, though you had noticed some people taking pictures as you were eating. By the time the bill had been paid, you were more than happy to take Sebastian’s hand and follow him outside. A short walk later and the two of you were strolling around a park eating ice cream on the way back to your apartment.

“So did you have fun tonight?” Sebastian asked.

“I did,” you admitted with a smile. “It was a lot better than I was expecting.”

“Ouch.” Sebastian made a faux wounded expression that ended up making you both laugh. “I didn’t realize you thought I’d be a bad date.”

“It wasn’t you I was worried about. Your fans kind of terrify me. Not gonna lie. I half expected them to show up at the restaurant and start pelting me with rotten fruit or something.”

“That would certainly kill the mood, but I don’t think you have to worry about people throwing fruit at you.”

“No. I just have to worry about what people are going to be saying about me online.”

“Hey, stop.” Sebastian caught your hand and pulled you back to where he had stopped walking. His hands cupped both sides of your face as he looked seriously at you. “It’s going to be ok. Yeah, there are going to be some people who say some mean things. Just ignore it. It’s why I don’t bother with social media much. It doesn’t matter what they say.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one they’re going to accuse of dating someone just to latch onto their fame or money.” Soon after you and Sebastian had started hanging out, the posts about you trying to use Sebastian’s game to get ahead had started. It didn’t really make much sense. Being friends with an actor wasn’t going to get you promoted any sooner. Still, they had annoyed you and sometimes made you feel weird about being around Sebastian.

“I know that you’re not using me. You know that you’re not using me. Everyone that matters will know that you’re not using me. If anything, I’m getting the better end of our relationship. I’m getting to date the most amazing woman ever.”

“Most amazing woman ever?” you repeated. “I’m not sure I have the necessary qualifications for that title.”

“Would you like to hear your qualifications?”

“Yes I would.” You giggled slightly, feeling like a kid with a crush, when Sebastian slung his arm around you and pulled you close so that he could whisper in your ear.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are the smartest person I know. You’re kind and funny and you know all of this already because I’ve told you it before.”

“Yeah but I wanted to hear it again.” Your face was so close to Sebastian’s as you whispered back to him that your noses were almost touching. You hardly dared to breathe as your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips.

Sebastian just barely started moving closer when you both heard “Is that Sebastian Stan?” coming from a nearby group of people. You jumped back almost immediately, blushing like a kid who was caught holding hands on the playground. Sebastian sent you a small smile before turning to face the fans who had come up to ask for pictures. Once he was finally finished with that, he took your hand again and led you back towards your apartment. Hopefully, no one had gotten a picture of you two in the park about to kiss. Despite what Sebastian had said, you were still scared of what people would say. Your hands shook slightly as you walked, so you slipped your hand out of his, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Quicker than you would have liked, you were back outside your apartment building. “Do you want to come up?” you asked when he stopped on the sidewalk.

Sebastian shook his head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, and, if I go up, I’m never gonna want to leave.” Sebastian grabbed your hands, which were still shaking, and pulled you close before resting his hands on your hips. “I had a great time tonight.” He smiled, making you feel a bit more brave. This was just Sebastian. The same Sebastian you had known for years growing up.

Slowly, Sebastian brought a hand up to your face, giving you plenty of time to stop him. But you didn’t want to. He was making you feel a bit fearless. You grinned as he kissed you softly. Even though it wasn’t your first kiss, it certainly felt like it. Although technically, it was your first kiss as an official couple. And it was your first kiss out in public, where someone could take a picture that would make its way through the Marvel fandom.

But that didn’t matter to you now. The kiss was flawless. And despite whatever people online were probably already posting about you, you would never regret this moment. Life with Sebastian was undeniably better than life without him.

————————

tags

@bbl32

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x yn #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan oneshot #calwrites

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doyumacy · 3 years

Text

FALLOUT |LH| EIGHT

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin taeyong and jeno. swearing, hospital, gunshot, angst, smut (oral sex f and m receiving), unprotected sex

WORD COUNT: 3,4K

Donghyuck looked up. Stared at himself in the mirror. It had been four days since the incident and you hadn't woken up yet.

That was when it set in, that’s when the tears started. Donghyuck gripped the sides of the sink and bowed his head low, chest shuddering with strained, quiet sobs. It was all coming back: the wetness of your blood on his hands, your pained whimpers, your 'I love you, I forgive you.'

He dreads to think that… that it may be the last time that you—

No. No. He couldn't — he couldn't think like that. You were alive, that was what matters. You would be awake soon and you would be fine and he was not going to torment himself thinking otherwise.

Deep breath. Deep breath. He straightened up, rubbed his nose and his eyes, blinked away the redness. He rejoined the rest where they had gathered. Taeyong and Jaemin stood against the wall, talking quietly between themselves; Jeno sitting on one of the chairs, texting someone. When they noticed his approach, all attention shifted to him.

"Uhm..." Taeyong called his attention. "They're gonna remove the vent since she's breathing on her own now."

Donghyuck nodded and sat next to Jeno. "Her mom is with her right now." Jaemin said.

“She’ll be okay,” Jeno whispered to him. "It's a good sign they removed the vent. She’ll be okay.”

You would be okay. Donghyuck reassured himself.

(.)

“Fuck.”

It wasn't the most graceful way to emerge from unconsciousness, you had to admit. Then again, emerging from unconsciousness in itself wasn't a graceful act. The lights were too bright and your mouth was too dry and you were somehow too warm and too hot at the same time — and don’t even get you started on the throbbing ache radiating throughout your chest, arms, and general upper-body area. It was hell.

Things started glitching out when you thought about how the hell you got there in the first place — you remember fighting Yuta, falling down the stairs and seeing Donghyuck's face, or was it a dream? You could guess what happened next.

“Hello to you too,” a voice said — not just a voice, your mind corrected you. Donghyuck, and immediately you’re seeking him out, trying to push yourself up. “Easy, easy.”

He came into view, hovering above you. One hand gently pressed down on your stomach, forcing you back down. He tried a smile — it’s more of a wince, really, especially when he was frowning like that. “You shouldn’t be sitting up yet. You’ve been out for five days.”

“Noted.” You grimaced. The pain in your torso wasn't exactly the type that you can just push through, so you don’t doubt it. “Yuta…?”

“Dead. Gunshot wound.” His eyes drifted to the general area where your own gunshot wound was, pulsing and throbbing with pain beneath the bandages and hospital gown. “Any pain? Need me to call a doctor?”

“No. No, I’m fine. I mean, as fine as… you know…,” A beat of silence, and you casted a glance around the room noticing the bunch of flower bouquets pretty much everywhere. “Taeyong or Jaemin?”

"Both of them actually," Donghyuck said.

You tried to giggle but it was too painful. You sighed. "Where are they?"

"I told them to go back to get some rest and clean up.” It was only then that he sat back down, pulling his chair closer to your bedside. You watched with timid eyes as he ran a hand over his face. He hasn't slept.

“You look tired, sweetie,” you said quietly. “You haven't been taking care of yourself, have you?”

“You were shot in the chest,” he was quick to interrupt, voice steady and stoic as usual, his eyes narrowing defensively, “You were in surgery for four hours, unconscious for five days. I was worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“You almost weren’t, (Y/N).” There was a tremble in his voice that made your heart plummeted. "You're here because of me. I know I shouldn't even be here but I couldn't leave you knowing Yuta wanted to kill you. I love you."

"I'm sorry," he murmured and held your hand carefully, "I'm so sorry. I never expected to fall for you. You got me. I love you, (Y/N). I don't expect you to forgive me, but if, for some reason you do I hope you know I love you deeply and I would never hurt you."

“Hyuck,” you muttered softly, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of him dimed the pain for a second, and you took a deep, steadying breath. “I told you I forgive you. You came back for me and I cannot assure you I’ll never get hurt, okay? And neither can you..."

You sighed. "You hurt me yes, and I'm still shocked by what you... do, but I love you, too."

Donghyuck was suddenly crying and sniffling and you sat trying to not hurt yourself and cupped his face in your free hand. "Hey, look at me. Baby, look at me," having you to guide his eyes towards you instead of around the room. “This wasn’t your fault, do you hear me? He’s gone, and you’re not. You’re here, and he’s not. I love you."

He clasped his hands over yours, bottom lip trembling, “(Y/N), I’m so sorry."

"If you keep apologizing I will throw you out of this room, Lee Donghyuck," you stared at him and he giggled and then placed a kiss on your hands.

Donghyuck sighed and then frowned. "There's still one thing I need to do."

(.)

“No way in hell!” You stared at Donghyuck and tried to stand up from his bed.

You had been discharged from the hospital 3 days ago and you still had to rest since you not only got shot but had one broken rib, a minor contusion and some bruises all over your body.

Donghyuck pressed down on your stomach with his hand gently, forcing you back down. You grunted at him and you grabbed his arm. “Promise me you wont do such a stupid thing.” You looked him in the eye.

Donghyuck sighed. “I have to do it, (Y/N). I need to turn myself in to the police.”

You closed your eyes trying to stop the tears that were forming in your eyes. “I don’t care about your past, I only care about your future.”

Donghyuck sat next to you and cupped your face in his hands. “Look at me,” he asked you and you kept your eyes closed. “(Y/N), look at me,” he asked you again and you opened them, looking him in the eye. “You deserve someone better.”

“Bullshit,” you hissed and removed his hands from your face. “I don’t want anyone else. Listen to me, Lee Donghyuck, I forgave you once but I will not forgive you if you leave me.”

“Are you threatening me?” Donghyuck raised an eyebrow looking at you.

"I'm warning you, love," you smirked at him.

Donghyuck chuckled and nodded, placing a kiss on your hand. "Okay."

"Kiss me," you demanded.

Donghyuck caressed your cheek with one hand, eyes locked to your lips before he moved it down to your left collarbone tracing some circles on your skin.

You sighed. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Tilting your head by framing your chin with his lean fingers, he brought his lips to yours, lightly at first but scorchingly deep and dominant once he received your confirmation. As if you were untied from the knot that was holding you back, you succumbed desperately to his touch, fingers fisting against the fabric of his collar, and focusing to keep up with every movement of his lips.

He pulled away before you were even the least satisfied, hooded eyes gleaming under the dim lighting. You whined and he smiled. "What was that about?"

"I wanna keep kissing you," you growled.

"I know so well, baby. You will want more than just a keep and you can't make any rough movements," Donghyuck winked at you.

"Hey!" You laughed and pushed him. "That's not true. I do know how to hold it."

Donghyuck pecked you and beamed at you. "Get some rest, love."

"I will, but you owe me this one," you tightened his thigh.

"Deal," Donghyuck smiled and stood up. "I'll be outside if you need me okay?"

You nodded.

Donghyuck got out of his room and closed the door behind him swiftly. He went to the kitchen where Jeno was talking on the phone and eyed him. Jeno nodded. “I will, thanks. Bye.” Jeno hung up and placed his phone on the counter. “Did you tell her?”

Donghyuck nodded with his head and leaned against the kitchen sink. Jeno sighed. “Oh man, I hate this. I didn’t want to do this right now but I have no choice.”

Donghyuck frowned and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not an accountant,” Jeno revealed. “I work for the NIS.”

Donghyuck’s mouth was opened wide. “You what?”

“I'm an agent working for NIS,” Jeno confessed. “When I met you I didn't know what you did but then everything kinda fell into place, you know? Then we got a suspect profile and I knew it was you.”

“We’ve known each other for 5 years,” Donghyuck looked at him.

“And a year ago I knew it was you,” Jeno sighed. “But you are my friend and you stood by my side during the worst time of my life."

"So..." He tapped the back of his nape. "I told the NIS you were working with me. I got them every information they needed: pictures, text messages, emails... everything."

"Hold on," Donghyuck shook his head, "You're helping me?"

Jeno nodded. "(Y/N)'s father is going to jail thanks to you, somehow. So, you'll have to go to court and listen to the judge's verdict."

"I'm going to jail anyways," Donghyuck sighed.

"Or not," Jeno shrugged. "They might put you in house arrest for months."

"(Y/N) is gonna freak out," Donghyuck panted.

“Nothing beats you being an assassin,” Jeno teased and Donghyuck glared at him. “Too soon?”

“Yeah.”

Jeno stared at the floor for a minute and then looked at Donghyuck. “Just, don’t try to run away, okay? I got you.”

“Why would you think I’m gonna run away?” Donghyuck laughed. “I want to do the right thing for the first time, Jeno. I won’t.”

Jeno nodded. “Great, because otherwise I will beat your ass.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “You could never.”

“Wanna bet?” Jeno raised an eyebrow.

“You’re so annoying, god,” Donghyuck snorted.

Jeno chuckled and then cleared his throat. “I think you should contact a lawyer, just in case.”

“Oh, Jaemin got me one already,” Donghyuck said. “I’m seeing him tomorrow morning.”

Donghyuck bit his lip and then frowned. “Is there a chance you could give me a few days?”

“I can’t promise it, but I’ll see what I can do,” Jeno shook his head.

“Thanks, bud.”

(.)

"(Y/N)?" Donghyuck called in a soft voice, careful not to wake you up. It had been 2 weeks since the incident and you were back home and trying to go back to your regular life.

To his surprise, you called from the kitchen where you were currently doing the dishes. "Hello." He greeted once he found you, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Why are you still up?" he asked and noticed the time on the wall, 12:30 am.

You finished the plates and then turned to him, "I finished my paperwork late and I couldn't sleep," you said as you watched him remove his wristwatch and set it on the table, and then he untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. That gesture made him so hot that you bit her lip, wanting to pounce at him. You gulped when he glanced at you, knowing full well that he caught you checking him out. "You went to the lawyer's?" you asked and he nodded, sitting down.

You went behind him, holding his shoulders and giving them a light squeeze that made him visibly relax. "Did you eat? I'll just heat up something."

Donghyuck held your right hand situated on his shoulder as he shook his head. "I had dinner," he claimed. "Coffee will be great." And you smiled, moving across the kitchen to get the coffee maker and prepare him the drink. The sudden loss of your physical touch made him sigh, maybe it's not coffee that he wanted.

He was admiring you backside while doing the coffee, your beautiful hair, your waist, and sexy hips. Even your legs looked great on the shorts you were wearing.

You were surprised when you felt Donghyuck's presence behind you, arms wrapped on your body. You hummed when he gave you a back hug, head nuzzling on the crook of your neck. Donghyuck gave you a kiss on the neck that made you giggle. "I have a meeting tomorrow, if anyone sees a hickey they're gonna be so confused." And Donghyuck chuckled.

His hands found themselves on the spot that he liked the most, giving it a little squeeze that made you chuckle. "No hickeys. Got it," he whispered as he put kisses on your exposed neck, kneading her breasts. You just smiled at how needy Donghyuck was being, liking how he massaged your boobs and played with the protruding nipples.

"Do you feel better?" He inquired, still kissing your neck.

"Now you ask?" You laughed as you turned and removed his suit, letting it drop on the floor.

Donghyuck chuckled and traced his finger on your lower lip. "I had to make sure."

"I'm okay," You kissed him.

"So..." You started with a lot of mischief in your voice, fingers undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. "I was thinking that, since you can't give me a hickey, I'll give you one instead," you claimed then sucked Donghyuck's chest, making him groan. You licked the spot and gave it a kiss before admiring the red spot you created in contrast to his skin. "I've come to the realisation, one isn't enough." And you started sucking spots on his chest, putting color on his golden skin.

"Oh God, (Y/N)," he called when you bent down to give his stomach marks as well.

You knelt down and it surprised him when you removed his pants, putting down his boxers that was a pool under him now. "Baby," he called and you shushed him while fisting his growing member. Donghyuck closed his eyes shut when you licked the side of his cock, biting his lip to prevent a series of groans to emerge.

You gave the tip a lick, kissing it as it oozes precum. "Baby." he called once again, looking down on you. Damn, you looked so hot kneeling in front of him like that.

"Yes, baby?" You smiled at him.

"Don't tease," Donghyuck warned you.

You winked at him before doing the deed.

Your mouth was really hot or maybe because his cock was really sensitive but it felt so good that groans escaped his lips. You sucked his cock, playing with it inside your mouth and even fondling his balls. His hands reached for your hair, tugging it in a ponytail as he bobbed your head up and down on his cock. Donghyuck hissed, badly wishing his control wouldn't spill out, but with a mouth so good like this how can he not fuck your mouth?

"Baby, you're so fucking good." he complimented as the hold on hair got tighter. You swallowed his cock, deepthroating him that made him groan. "Oh God, (Y/N)." And that was it, his control going down the drain. He thrusts into your mouth with so much power that if not for his hold on your hair, you might bump your head on the counter. He kept on groaning as he fuck you mouth and felt himself cumming in no time. His cum filled your mouth, swallowing it.

When Donghyuck came back from his high, he gave you a mischievous smile as he grabbed your chin with two fingers. "Open up," you opened your mouth and he checked you had swallowed everything. "Good girl."

"I'm not done with you yet." You said and you kissed on the marks that you had done to his body.

Your lips were together once again as you struggled to get to your bedroom and you pushed him on the bed, removing your shirt and sitting on top of him. Donghyuck couldn't believe that he was already naked, yet here you were there, in your bra and shorts. "This is so unfair, you should get naked as well." He revolted which made you laugh.

You gave him a kiss and then bit the lower part of his lip. "But this is about you for the meantime. I want to make you feel good," you said then sucked a spot by his neck that made him groan. You started filling his skin with red patches that would obviously show in the next few days.

Your kisses went down until you reached his semi-hard cock and you placed a quick kiss on his tip. You took off your bra and Donghyuck held your breasts. "You're gorgeous. Shit."

He pushed you to the bed and his mouth kissed your stomach and you moaned. "Hyuck..." You called. "I want to make you feel good..." You whined but he didn't stop his adventure of going down until he was at the waistband of your shorts. "Fuck, Donghyuck." And you knew what would happen now that he was pulling down your shorts and underwear.

His tongue immediately licked your clit and you moaned, arching your back at the sensation. Damn, Lee Donghyuck and his fucking mouth. He parted your legs and started fucking you with his tongue, making you scream in pleasure. His thumb started circling your clit as he alternated the sucking and licking of your pussy. You could feel your soul being sucked by Donghyuck's mouth. And yes, that's how amazing he was. You came in no time, letting him suck everything.

He grinned while rubbing his mouth using the back of his hand and that gesture looked so sexy. "Oh, God. Fuck me," you exclaimed that made him smirk.

"Whatever you need, baby," Donghyuck mumbled while jerking his cock and positioning it on your entrance, making you nod. His cock sank inside you and he groaned at how tight you were. And the thought that it was only him fucking your pussy made the beast in him growl that instead of the usual gentle thrusts, he was jerking into you violently.

You could feel your body being thrown to bed with each thrust and his cock hitting you in the pleasure spot. With the way that he was going, you were sure you'd get so sore the next day.

"Donghyuck!" You shouted as one hand grabbed the sheets of your bed and the other scratched his back, wanting something to claw on. He was jerking into you real hard that you could hear his balls slamming against your skin.

"Yes, fuck baby." he cursed while jerking in you in such power and speed, driving both their orgasms. You came with a mind rippling orgasm and immediately felt him filling you up. What surprised you was when he didn't pull away after cumming in you.

"Fuck," you whispered, catching your breath. "I think you broke more ribs."

Donghyuck laughed, breathless and kissed your neck. "God, I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and smiled at him. "That was amazing. Fuck, let's do it again."

"What about your meeting?" He asked, while kissing your chest.

"Fuck it," You moaned when he bit one of your lips.

"Get on all fours, baby," he whispered in your ear.

You knew it was going to be a long night.

#donghyuck imagine #donghyuck smut #donghyuck x reader #haechan imagine #haechan x reader #haechan smut #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 #nct haechan

158 notes · View notes

cinnamon-roll-seth · 4 years

Text

Not Good For You || JJ Maybank

Your disapproving father gets into JJ’s head and leads him to believe that he isn’t good enough for you. JJ, believing your father’s words, tries to end things but you’re not giving up without a fight.

You watch in disbelief as a handcuffed JJ gets shoved into the back of the police truck. Kiara stands next to you, equally as shocked, while Pope stands across from the two of you, next to his dad. The three of you watch helplessly as Shoupe gets in the truck and drives away.

Pope starts anxiously walking around grabbing at his hat and then suddenly takes it off and chucks it at the ground, “Shit!” He yells before storming off.

“Pope? Pope!” His dad calls before running after him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” You mutter over and over, digging your hands in your hair, “Why the fuck did he do that?! He knew damn well it wasn’t him who sank that stupid boat!”

“Because it’s JJ,” Kiara replies, “Of course he’d take the blame for Pope, he’s selfless like that. He’s always protecting his friends.”

You sigh, “Well sometimes I hate him for it. God he’s probably freaking out right now.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s tough.” Kie assures you softly and you nod.

“I sure hope so. Hey I should probably get home, it’s only a matter of time before my dad finds out and if I’m not close by he’ll have a fit.” She nods, knowing how your dad is, and the two of you say your goodbyes before you get into you car and drive the short way back to Figure Eight.

The thing about being a kook and dating a pogue is that everybody judges you. They all think that you’re making a mistake by dating JJ and that someday he’ll end up pulling you into whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into. It’s part of the reason why, although you live the kook lifestyle, you still prefer to hang out with the pogues. You’re kind of like a half kook/half pogue.

Your father, however, is probably the most angry about it. He would disapprove of anybody who isn’t rich, pogue or not, and the fact that JJ is always causing mischief makes it worse. He keeps tabs on your relationship, and JJ in general, like a hawk.

You cringe as you pull into the long driveway and sure enough your father is already standing on the front steps, arms crossed over his chest, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve just been hanging out with Kiara,” You reply nonchalantly.

“Hanging out with Kiara? Don’t lie to me, I know you were with that dirty delinquent boyfriend of yours.”

“Don’t change the subject,” He warns angrily, “I heard he got arrested?! What the hell did he do this time?!”

“It’s none of your business Dad. Stay out of it.”

“I want you to stay away from that boy. I’ve said it a million times before and you don’t listen but I’m serious this time Y/N. End things with him.”

“Or what? What are you gonna do dad? Lock me in the house like a princess in a tower? You know what, I’m done talking about this right now.” You angrily walk over to the driver’s side of your car before climbing in and slamming the door.

“Where do you think you’re going? Y/N, I swear to god if you start that car you’re grounded.” You ignore him and start the car before speeding away from the house, drowning out your father’s angry screaming.

As you pull into The Wreck’s parking lot for the second time that day you run a hand through your hair and sigh, “Fuck.”

“Hey what are you doing back? I thought you had to get home to Dadzilla?” Kie asks as you walk into the restraunt.

“Yeah well he decided he was going to yell at me as soon as I got there and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.” You shrug and sit down at the bar. She nods in understanding but doesn’t say anything else.

“Yeah?” She asks, not looking up from her cleaning.

“Could I maybe stay with you for a few days? Just until all this shit with JJ is sorted out. If I go home my dad is gonna be all up my ass about it.”

“Of course Y/N, you know you’re always welcome at my house.” You smile, silently thanking her, and patiently wait until she’s done cleaning before you both head back to her house.

{The Next Night}

“Just so you know, if you weren’t going to be there I definitely wouldn’t be going to this stupid party.” You tell Kiara as the two of you stare at yourselves in her mirror.

“Oh I know. If it wasn’t for my mom making me I wouldn’t be going to this stupid party either,” She laughs as her mom pops her head into the room.

“You girls almost ready?”

“Yeah we’ll be down in a minute,” Kiara replies and her Mom nods before leaving once more.

Kie sighs and turns to you, “You ready for this?”

You shrug, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

When you get there the place is already crawling with kooks and the two of you are quick to split from her family and go find Pope. Although he’s not a kook so he isn’t actually a part of the club his dad always caters and Pope usually tags along to help.

You keep a close eye on the crowd, ready to split if you see your father. Finally you spot Pope standing off to the side with his Dad and rush over to greet him.

After a while of watching and making fun of the kooks you turn towards Pope, “Hey, have you heard from JJ?”

“No, you guys?” He asks and you and Kie shake your heads.

“No. He’ll be alright though, he has the survival instincts of a cockroach.” Kie answers.

He sighs, “It’s all my fault.”

“No it’s not Pope, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You assure him.

“Topper almost killed you, remember?” He doesn’t respond as the Camerons’ arrival steals everyone’s attention.

As the night goes on and it begins to get dark the three of you continue to stand aside watching the kooks dance and laugh and live their lives. You continue to keep an eye out for your father, thankfully the closest thing you get to spotting him is catching a five second glimpse of your little brother dancing with some little girl from his second grade class.

At some point you excuse myself to go to the bathroom and push through the crowd into the club.

Unbeknownst to you JJ is outside searching for Sarah after a short run-in with Pope. Finding Sarah and giving her John B’s note was at the top of his list but after that his main focus was going to be finding you. He finally spots Sarah when a hand roughly wraps around his arm and drags him away from the chaos.

“Dude what the hell?!” He yells as he’s dragged away to a little nook in the porch, away from the crowd. The assailant releases the death grip they have on JJ’s upper arm and practically throws the boy forward in front of them.

He stumbles a little before regaining his balance and turning to see Y/N’s dad standing in front of him looking quite angry.

“Oh hey Mr. Y/L/N. What, did you want to do a little future son-in-law and father-in-law bonding? You could’ve just asked, no need to be so rough.” He says sarcastically.

“Cut the shit kid. Look, I don’t like you, you’re dirty and rotten and you’re not good for my daughter. Now I’ve told her to end it but clearly she has other ideas so I’m going to tell you instead. You need to end things between the two of you and move on, and after that stay a far distance away.” Your father spits in a warning tone.

“And what will you do if I don’t?” JJ questions tauntingly, “I mean, my apologies sir, but that’s not going to happen. I love your daughter and I’ll never leave her.”

“You know, despite hanging around you and your delinquent friends, who probably have no hopes or goals for the future and will probably be stuck on The Cut barely scraping by to survive for the rest of your lives, she has aspirations. She wants to go somewhere in life, do things with her life. Things that you, a poor boy from the bad side of the island, who’s always getting into trouble, aren’t capable of doing. Now maybe being with you isn’t affecting her right now but someday soon you will get into trouble that is so deep that you will drag my daughter down with you and everything she wants for her future, everything she’s worked towards and done to achieve her goals, will be thrown out the window.” JJ stays silent, playing your father’s words over in his head as the older man continues, “Don’t ruin her life. End it before she pays the price for your mistakes.” And with that he turns and walks away.

“Yeah, um, no. I stayed at Kiara’s, I’m gonna be sleeping there for a few days.” You answer, tugging at your dress.

“Honey please. Come home with us later, your father and I were worried about you. He told me about your little argument and about you storming off. That wasn’t very respectful Y/N, I thought we taught you better than that.” You laugh in disbelief, shaking your head at her words.

“Did he forget to tell you how he practically threatened me to break up with JJ? How he was the one who started the whole thing in the first place? Of course not and it’s not like you would care anyway because you don’t like JJ either.”

“When did I ever say that? JJ is a nice kid he just...” She trails off and you scoff.

“Y/N, please.” She pleads and you turn around and wave.

“Bye Mom, I’ll see you in a few days when you two decide to stop judging somebody based on their social status and the amount of money they have in their bank account. Oh wait, that’ll never happen.” You reply angrily before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

You go outside, scanning to crowd to try and find Kiara, whom you finally spot standing a little ways further down the deck.

“Hey, you alright?” She asks, seeing your annoyed face.

“Yeah, just ran into my mom in the bathroom. It’s fine, she was just being a bitch about the fight with my dad. Blaming it on me like always.” You shrug, turning towards the crowd until the door opens behind you and a familiar voice comes out of it.

You turn around, eyes widening as you watch JJ get pulled outside by the security guard, “Look man I can walk myself! I got legs. Can you see that, brother?”

He struggles against the guard, not even noticing Kie and yourself as he gets pulled past. He grabs a glass from an older man on the way, downing the alcohol inside of it. You cringe as he’s pulled through the crowd, causing a scene and turning all eyes towards him, including those of your father who still hasn’t spotted you.

“Let go of him!” Kiara yells and her parents rush to shush her as all the attention is on the two of you now, “You can’t just boot him!”

You and JJ lock eyes for a moment and you smile but he doesn’t return it and looks away instead. You frown, wondering how long he’s been out of jail and why he hadn’t contacted any of you sooner, and why he reacted that way when he saw you.

“I invited him here! I’m a member of this club!” Kie continues, shrugging off her parents who are desperately trying to get her to shut up.

JJ finally pushes off the guard and apologizes sarcastically before turning towards us, “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie, Y/N. Pope, you as well. Rixon’s Cove, lets go.”

Kiara ignores her parents protests and the two of you bolt after JJ and John B as they run away from the party, Pope in tow. The five of you don’t stop running until you’ve reached your destination. You try to talk to JJ but he pretends not to hear you and instead works with John B to start a fire so you sit on a log next to Kie instead.

When the fire is started you smile and pat the seat next to you, hoping he’ll sit there but he sits next to John B and you try to ignore the hurt you feel after. He hasn’t said one word to me, did I do something wrong?

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even pay attention to the conversation until Kie nudges you slightly and leans in to whisper, “You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” You answer, looking towards John B who’s standing in front of the group going on about the Royal Merchant and his findings about the gold.

At one point you and JJ lock eyes again but he looks away once again.

“All we need it an original survey map of the property and we’ve found the gold.” John B exclaims excitedly and you watch as JJ walks over and throws his arms around him.

You angrily stand up and stomp away from the fire, sick of JJ’s attitude towards you tonight. You don’t know what you did but you’re not going to sit around and let him act like you’re not even there.

“Y/N? Where are you going?” Kie calls but you ignore her, continuing to walk until you get to the beach and find a nice large rock to sit on, staring up at the moonlight. A few moments later you hear footsteps and feel somebody sit next to you but you don’t look over, you already know who it is.

“Can we talk?” He asks and you hum in response, not paying any attention until he asks again more insistently.

“Oh so you’ve finally decided to acknowledge my presence after ignoring me all night?” You don’t know what you expected him to say but what comes out of his mouth next is far from it.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore,” He replies softly. Your heartbeat quickens as you stare back at him with wide eyes.

“JJ, why would you say that?”

“I’m not good for you Y/N. You’re beautiful and rich and you have your whole life ahead of you. I’m just some poor troublemaker who isn’t going to make it anywhere in life. You’re so much better than me. You deserve better than me. I can’t believe it took me this long to see that.”

“That’s not true JJ. It doesn’t matter where you come from, you CAN make it places in life if you believe you can. I don’t want anybody else, I don’t care who they are or what they think they can give me. I only want you.”

“You’re a kook and I’m a pogue. We aren’t meant to be together. We were bound to crash and burn at some point so we may as well get it over with. It’s best that we move on and date people from our own sides of the island.” He refuses to look at you now, staring out into the ocean as you shake your head profusely.

“It doesn’t work that way JJ and you know it. We can’t just move on and love somebody else just because you and I come from different worlds. Romeo and Juliet, remember?” You cry, referring to the nicknames Kie and the boys used to call you two when you first started dating. Tears began to stream steadily down your cheeks.

“Romeo and Juliet both died Y/N!” He yells, raising his voice for the first time, “They were stupid enough to love each other even though they knew they shouldn’t and they ended up dead and if we stay together the same thing will happen to us, except it’ll be the death of everything you could accomplish in your life and I’ll be the one pulling the trigger. Eventually I’ll end up pulling you down to my level and all of your hopes and dreams will die and you’ll be no better than me, a stupid, useless pogue with no purpose.”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re so much more than that to me. You’re my best friend JJ, the love of my life. I don’t want to live a life without you.”

The boy doesn’t say anything for a moment as your father’s words from this evening play over in his head. Don’t ruin her life. She’d be better off without you. End it before she pays the price for your mistakes. Finally he sighs, “Well you don’t really have a choice.”

“What do you mean? JJ please, I don’t want to loose you.” You pleaded softly as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Seeing you in this much pain physically broke JJ as he felt his heart break. He always vowed never to hurt you but now here he was doing the very thing he promised not to do. But he couldn’t ruin you, pushing you away now would save you from more pain later.

He could tell that you weren’t giving up without a push and with that thought in mind he opened his mouth and let the biggest lie he’s ever told fall from his lips, “You already have.”

“JJ,” You whispered helplessly as you watched the boy you love so much stand up and turn towards you.

“It’s true. I’ve been falling out of love for weeks but you were too stupidly in love with me to notice.”

“You don’t mean that.” You shook your head as more tears fell, “You’re just saying that to push me away.”

“No, I’m not. You’re so clingy, always up my ass, it’s exhausting. I’ve been mustering up the courage to end things but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, you know? I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would complicate things and make things awkward between everyone. I didn’t want it to get bad and make the others have to choose between us. I mean of course they’d choose me because I’m a pogue just like them but I didn’t want it to come to that point because I knew you’d have no friends then. You know I feel kind of bad for you actually. You’re so rich and privileged but yet none of the other rich kids like you so you resorted to being friends with pogues because you’re so pathetic that you can’t handle being alone.” With every word that came out of his mouth his heart broke more and more. Seeing the hurt on your face made him want to die. He opened his mouth to keep going but you stood up and held out your hand for him to stop.

“There’s no need to say anything else JJ, you made your point loud and clear.” Your voice was so quiet and broken that he could barely hear what you said, “I’m gonna go. Tell the others I’m sorry.”

As you turn and walk away JJ has to physically fight to urge to run to you and scoop you up into his arms and tell you that everything he’d just said was a lie. He wanted to apologize for all the vile things he’d just said and tell you how much he loves you but he didn’t.

As soon as you disappeared into the woods tears started to freely down his cheeks at a rate that they never had before as he angrily tugged at his hair, “Fuck!”

Thirty minutes later you stared up at the large house in front of you, debating about whether to go in. Tears stained your cheeks and you had to refrain from letting more loose as you replayed JJ’s harsh words in your head. You sighed and opened the large door, closing it behind you.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Your mother’s voice rang out as she appeared from the study.

“Where have you been?” Your father asked from behind her, “Off with your boyfriend again huh?”

“Dad I really don’t want to talk about it,” I reply softly, emotionally drained already, “I’m going up to bed. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

Neither one of your parents responded as they watched you climb the elegant staircase towards your room.

PART TWO

Can y’all believe that JJ is so hot that he brought me out of Tumblr retirement? 🥵 for real though, it’s literally been years since I’ve posted a fanfic on this app but after watching Outer Banks and falling in love with this blonde idiot I was inspired. I literally spent like three days working on this too so I hope y’all like it lmao

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #obx jj #please dont let this flop #multifandom #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #pope heyward #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Worry

Warnings: The next two chapters will deal with pregnancy, societal pressure around pregnancy, and concerns around pregnancy! I’ve CW’d them for that in the tags!! If you need me to add any additional tags, please let me know. I’m not a doctor. Just, you know. Disclaimer.

Also cursing; canon-typical violence Notes: Angsty and fluffy Summary: You don’t want to give a voice to your panic before you know that anything’s actually wrong.

It’s been a question since before you and Borracho even get married: So when are you two having kids? You just laugh it off when his sisters ask, and his mom, and Gabriel, that one time. When you were dating it was only once in a while - usually when you turned down the offer of a beer because you’d agreed to be the designated driver between the two of you for that night. Nadia or Megan or Isobel would sidle up to you and pat your stomach and waggle their eyebrows, and you’d just laugh and knock their hands away and screech, “I’m driving!” But now that you’re married… Well, it’s almost constant. And it’s not just from his family. You know that the guys have a pool going about whether or not you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year. The website that you guys used to register for wedding gifts is popping into your inbox every other week to set up your baby shower registry.

And you and Borracho have talked about the kids thing before, a few times since the weekend that you looked after Lissie. Thing is, you haven’t talked about it in a while, but you know that Borracho’s thinking about it. He hasn’t been smoking - he’s been using nicotine patches and chewing gum like a fiend. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs and mutters something about, “having to kick the habit some time”. He’s a little moody about it, sure, but you had been very clear when the two of you spoke that you didn’t want cigarette smoke about your child - “Besides,” You’d murmured when you’d talked about it, “It’s not good for you, Benny. And I want you around for a long time.” That fact that he’s doing that sort of signals a ‘soon?’ to you, but you don’t talk about it. You’re not sure you want to. Talking about it would make it real, and making it real might freak you out, and you really, really want to bask in your honeymoon phase for a little while longer. His family is still pretty pushy about it. When you get handed a kid at any family function, or you help of your own volition, you inevitably hear something somewhere behind you about, “practice,” and “it’ll be different when she has her own”. And you know that it’s because they’re excited for you and Borracho, but it’s starting to wear. There’s one day when you’re cleaning popsicle off of Lissie’s chin, and you hear Nadia coo about you looking like a little mother. And you’re so, so tempted to ask if she’d rather you just let her child make a mess. You’re not being a mother, you’re just trying to help. If Borracho were doing this, would he look like a little father to them? But instead you give her a tight smile and turn back to Lissie, and let the baby’s garbled speech make you smile for real. -- That night, you wait until Borracho has fallen asleep before you get up and do a little research. And a little research brings on a lot of worry. -- You still don’t talk about it. The talking will make it feel real. You don’t want to give a voice to your panic before you know that anything’s actually wrong. But the thing is you and Borracho have technically been trying since you got married. You’re not on the pill, you’re both clean, so you haven’t been using condoms. You’ve been tracking your cycle, you know your ovulation window, and while you did think, once after you came back from your honeymoon that you two might be-- Well, your period was just a couple of days late, so it didn’t matter anyway. You didn’t mention it to him. You read an article that tells you that 80% of couples conceive after 6 months of trying; the same article tells you that 90% conceive after a year of trying. You and Borracho have been trying for 8 months and-- nothing. So maybe there’s something wrong? Some irregularity with your ovulation cycle - or maybe he could have a low sperm count, you don’t think he’s ever gotten that checked out. All of this is in your head. It’s not on your mind, it’s just hanging out in the background. Occasionally it drifts to the forefront and you wave it back to its place, along with the worries that if, somehow, you ever managed to have a child, you’d be an awful mother and the kid would hate you. -- Borracho, bless him, waits. He doesn’t ask right away. Whatever it is that’s wrong, he can tell you’re not ready to talk about, and he’s got the feeling that the conversation will make him want a cigarette, anyway, so maybe it’s for the best that he lets you come to him with it. -- Your first anniversary should be sweet. It’s not. It’s actually kind of an ordeal. The guys have been working an art theft case for the last three months and you’ve been so consumed by it that you haven’t even had time to worry about whether or not you can get pregnant because the two of you have been so busy that you’ve hardly had time to have sex. After a particularly hard night, Borracho broke down and bummed a cigarette off of Connors, and you didn’t begrudge him that one. You’d just sat outside of the bar with him and rubbed your hand between his shoulder blades. “I’ll be back on the patches and gum tomorrow,” He’d sworn to you, and you’d just told him that it was alright, and that you loved him, and that you knew that this was hard for him. He’d flicked the cigarette butt away and practically pulled you into his lap, kissing your neck and murmuring that he wanted to marry you all over again. And then Nick had come out and threatened to arrest the both of you for public indecency. But you and Borracho spend most of your first anniversary getting ready for a sting. Nick’s managed to rope you into field work again (much to Borracho’s chagrin). You’re posing as a buyer, and meeting up with the man that had stolen the painting from the Kohn Gallery. None of the guys can do it - this dealer’s been busted by them before, he’ll recognize them right off. You’re the only one whose face he doesn’t know. When you show at the station, the guys let out little mutters; Connors gets out half of a wolf-whistle before Nick punches him in the shoulder. You arch a brow. You’re not sure what it is - the suit you’ve opted to wear, the pointed-toe heels, or the wig. This one isn’t pink, of course - it’s similar to your hair, but it has a loose, styled wave to it. “Why don’t you ever come to the office like this?” Henderson teases, even as Borracho stares him down. “You all never get dressed up for me, why the fuck would I get dressed up for you?” You retort. “She’s got a point. We’re rollin’ out in ten,” Nick adds. Borracho stands from his desk and walks over to yours, watching you reach under the wig to put in your earpiece. “You’re sure you wanna do this?” He asks. “It’ll be fine,” You glance at him. He purses his lips, and you reach out, cupping his chin, then teasing your nails through the goatee there. “Come on, this isn’t my first field op.” “We won’t be in there with you,” Borracho reminds you, though he sounds like he’s much more hung up on that fact than you are. “I know, but you’ll be nearby,” You say, “And the second I confirm the painting is the one you guys have been looking for, you’ll grab the guy and we’ll be set.” Borracho doesn’t look so convinced, but you lean up and peck his lips and murmur, “Relax, Benny.” And you expect hoots and hollers to go up from the guys, but you hear nothing. They’re giving you two this moment. They know what today is; they know how worried Borracho is. And the guys can be dicks sometimes, but you love them. -- Your first anniversary should be sweet. It’s not. It’s kind of an ordeal. You wind up sitting on the back of an ambulance because a bullet grazed your right arm - not deep enough to do real damage or hit anything serious, but bad enough to need stitches. Borracho is leaning against the ambulance, jaw clenched as he stares down at your pointed-toe heels. You’ve tried to engage him, and you’ve tried to get him to look at you, but he just won’t. When you’re leaving, you expect him to bum a cigarette off of Connors, but he doesn’t. Instead you drive home in silence, his hand territorial on your thigh, like the art dealer is in the backseat, like the bullet is hovering near your shoulder, but neither will be able to touch you as long as he is. He waits until you two are in your apartment to draw you into his arms and hold you tight against his chest. You go willingly, and you cuddle against him and hide your wince in his neck as your arm twinges when you take hold of him in turn. Some part of you is tempted to joke, to murmur, “Happy anniversary?”, but you consider how mad you’d be if he did that to you just now, and instead you murmur, “It’s just a scratch.” And maybe that’s not the best thing to have said, either, because his grip tightens on you, and he mumbles, “Scratches don’t need stitches, sweetness.” -- That night, he’s gentle with you, the way you were with him the first time the two of you were together after he’d been shot. He takes his time undressing with you, pushes your hands away from your clothes when you reach to remove them yourself. When you tease and ask him if he wants you to keep the wig on, he shakes his head and covers your body with his, and he nuzzles against your jaw and murmurs, “You,” sweet and desperate, “I just want you.” -- It’s a hiccup. A bump in the road. A reminder that what you two do is dangerous, that anything can happen. Time passes. The wound heals. The worry comes back. -- You wake up with cramps one morning. You go into the bathroom - you confirm it is what you think it is. You tiptoe around your bedroom, pull on sweatpants and head into the kitchen to make coffee. It’s been a year and a half now, and you are worried. Borracho never did say that kids are a deal breaker, but what if they are? What if he’s changed his mind? What if you change your mind? Your vision is blurring with tears as you pour water into the coffeemaker. You can hear Borracho shuffling around in your bedroom, and you let yourself sniffle before you scrub at your eyes. You set your hands on the counter, taking a few steadying breaths as you hear Borracho come out of the bedroom. You hear him pause before he cuddles up behind you, his big, rough, warm hands settling comfortingly on your hips. He presses a kiss to the back of your head, then to the side, then brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. “What’s going on, sweetness?” He murmurs. You should’ve known better; the man knows you better than anyone, you can’t hide from him, not well. It’s a wonder you’ve managed to go this long without saying anything to him. You lean back against his chest and mumble, “I got my period.” It takes him a few moments, but he nods a little, turning and pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay.” “What if-- Benny what if I can’t-- And we can’t--...” Your eyes are welling up with tears again; your voice is wavering, and your throat feels tight with worry. He slides his arms around your waist, soothingly rocking the two of you side to side. “We’ll figure it out, sweetness,” He soothes, “We can talk to a doctor, we can look into adoption-- Anything you want.” “What’ll your family say?” “Hey,” Borracho turns you to face him. He lifts one hand to your chin and tips your head up to look at him. “This isn’t their marriage, this isn’t their decision. It’s ours. We make this choice, you and me.” He reaches up and smooths away a tear when it escapes you. “And if that choice is no kids, then that’s our choice, sweetness.” You can’t stop the tears now; you surge up and bury your face in Borracho’s shoulder and curl into him and mumble that you wanna marry him all over again. -- Your second anniversary is sting-operation and bullet-graze free. The traditional second anniversary gift is cotton. The box you give Borracho contains a cotton shirt that says ‘I’m Going to Be a Daddy!’, and your (cleaned) positive pregnancy test. (You’ve got a matching shirt that says ‘You Can Stop Asking When We’re Having a Baby Now’.)

#The Pool #The Worry #Pregnancy CW #Pregnancy conversations #Concerns around pregnancy #Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/You #benny borracho/reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader

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sage-nebula · 3 years

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My problem with the “let the adults handle things" is that the protagonist and Hop are just okay with that and actually listen? kids aren't like that?? In every other story with children and main characters they get told stuff like that but still don't listen anyways and actually works and save the day. But the real reason is that it was probably the original plan but the game got rushed and had to scrap it and cut corners

This might come as a shock, but kids are people, and therefore aren’t a monolith. “Kids don’t listen and wouldn’t be okay with that” isn’t a statement that can be made with 100% accuracy because just like all adults are different, all kids are different. Some kids will stomp their feet and throw tantrums when they’re told no. Others will accept it. It depends on the individual child, as well as the circumstances involved.

As for these specific children and circumstances:

The primary time that Leon and Sonia say “let the adults handle this,” Hop wasn’t actually present. He shows up after the cutscene has already unfolded. Even if he had been, Hop hero worships Leon. He wants to surpass Leon because surpassing him means being just like him. He’s crushed after battling Bede not because he lost, but rather because Bede tells him that he’s making Leon look bad. Hop apologizes to Leon the next time he sees him. What all this means is that if Leon tells Hop to do something, Hop is 99.9% likely to do it. If Leon says, “Stay back and let me handle this,” Hop will. This is evidenced by how, even though Hop runs past Raihan and others to get to Leon in the climax of the story, he at first hangs back and lets Leon handle Eternatus, confidently telling the player that Leon can do it. It’s only when Leon fails and is injured that Hop steps up to battle Eternatus alongside the player, Zacian, and Zamazenta. So yes, it makes perfect sense that Hop would listen to Leon because Hop hangs on Leon’s every word and has since he was very small. He trusts and believes in his brother implicitly and, even after deciding to cheer for the player in the Championship match, later confides that he didn’t really think the player was capable of defeating Leon.

As for the player, they have no personality outside of what you give them. For me, I’ve been playing Pokémon games since 1998. I’m absolutely beyond tired of having to save everyone’s asses because the PokéWorld can’t go two years without facing another crisis. I don’t want to be the hero anymore. I don’t want to be the Champion anymore. I was exhausted at having to be the Champion in Alola. This isn’t a job that appeals to me, it’s not one that I want. So if Leon and Sonia say, “Go continue your adventure, we’ll handle this,” my response is, “Thank fucking god” because that means I can fuck back off into the wilderness and continue exploring. I don’t want it to be my job to clean up whatever bullshit mess Chairman Rose or any other villain has caused. I am here to explore lands I’ve never seen before, to catch and train and play with monsters, and battle alongside them in battles I choose to participate in, too. That’s all I want to do. Any other bullshit is just a giant pain in the ass that pulls me away from what I’d rather be doing. And since I feel that way, the player character in my games feels that way, too. After all, when I play, the player character isn’t actually a kid. She’s actually an adult in the body of a kid. But she’ll pretend to be a kid if it means someone else picks up the slack and saves the world for once (even if she ends up having to do it anyway, sigh). She deserves a damn break.

All of that said:

In every other story with children and main characters they get told stuff like that but still don't listen anyways and actually works and save the day.

That’s exactly why it’s refreshing that this wasn’t the case in Sword & Shield. I mean, yeah, the player had to intervene anyway because that’s just how video games work, but it was nice that for once in this series’ history the adults actually tried to do something. The only other time this has happened was in Black & White, wherein the Gym Leaders and Alder stepped up to make a stand against Team Plasma. Otherwise, the adults are 100% useless in every single game, even the ones where the villain is threatening genocide, and as an adult myself, I really hate that. Sure, kids need stories where people their age are being heroes, absolutely. But when adults don’t even try, and instead happily leave everything on the shoulders of a child, I get aggravated. It shouldn’t be up to actual children to save the world, and it was so refreshing to see a Pokémon game where that was recognized, and where the Champion himself was seriously injured trying to make sure that didn’t happen.

Lastly:

But the real reason is that it was probably the original plan but the game got rushed and had to scrap it and cut corners

Yes, Sword & Shield had a limited development time that led to some things getting cut (such as the National Dex, tragedy though that is), just as every game since Gen VI has. However, I can confidently say that this is not one of them because of the characters involved.

Sonia has, in my opinion, one of the richest characterizations and most realistic stories out of almost any other Pokémon characters from the games. At the start of the game, she’s in her twenties and has no idea what she’s doing with her life. She’s retired from battling after dropping out of the Gym Challenge in her youth, but she dropped out of the Gym Challenge because she lacked the confidence to face the obstacles it presented, not because she wanted to do something else. The fact is, Sonia doesn’t really know what she wants to do. We know that she went to school at one point (her fake assistant in the post-game mentions that Sonia does have a doctorate), but she doesn’t have any actual research she’s working on. Instead, she’s a self-appointed assistant for her grandmother, even if what she does is mostly just meander around the lab . . . reading or organizing materials, I guess.

But after her grandmother gives her a kick in the pants and tells her to go find something she wants to do, she manages to do just that. She finds something that ignites her curiosity and her passion, something that makes a difference in her life at the very least, and possibly the lives of everyone in Galar. She finds her confidence, her drive, and her purpose. At the end of the game she’s the new regional professor, more sure of herself and her place in the world. And as someone who only just very recently left my 20s, I can say that Sonia’s story in this regard is very, very Millennial. Most twenty-somethings have no idea what they’re doing with their lives. And while they probably won’t figure it out as quickly as Sonia did (I’m still working on it myself), her struggles are very relatable and real. It’s clear that a lot of thought went into her character and her writing. Game Freak gave her a lot of love.

With all of that said though, Sonia being hyper-aware that she is an adult while Hop and the protagonist are kids is something that is present from the very beginning. She brings it up when you first reach the wild area, for instance. She makes it known that she has more experience and that she is therefore watching out for you and for Hop (particularly since Leon frets over Hop, as Sonia also points out). Sonia telling the protagonist to just keep enjoying the Gym Challenge while she looks into things is 100% in character for her. It’s characterization present from the start.

And the same goes for Leon. Leon, who became Champion at age 10, and therefore has had to shoulder the burden of being Galar’s Champion for over a decade, knows exactly what it is to have too much responsibility at too young an age. Sonia notes that Leon “practically raised [Hop]” (which is odd given they have a mom and at least one grandparent, but nonetheless), and also that he worries about him constantly. I believe Raihan says something along the same lines. And we see this from Leon as well, with him questioning you about what was going on with Hop when he runs into you in Hammerlocke after Hop’s battle against Bede, and then talking about how he’s going to seek Hop out to talk to him again. Leon doesn’t want Hop to so much as feel bad, much less be in actual danger, even setting aside the fact that Leon feels greatly responsible for the safety and happiness of everyone in the Galar region and therefore feels that it is his responsibility as Champion to face any threat to any of that head on. (Which, it is his responsibility as Champion to face threats to the region, but Leon takes it too far in that he feels he’s responsible for everyone’s happiness as well, which in turn contributes to how unhappy he actually is being Champion). So considering the fact that Leon is very protective of Hop and feels strongly that it is his duty as Champion to deal with any burden Galar faces, it is 100% in character for him to wave you off with a smile as well. That’s not a “we cut this corner because of time,” this is a, “We understand the character we’ve created and we’re staying true to him.”

So, to summarize: I disagree with everything you said. Goodnight.

#pokemon #professor sonia #champion leon #meta #Anonymous

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

Stranger

I Know You

Summary - After that evening, the freckled face of that man was engraved in your memory. You hoped that you would meet him again and you do but not all meetings are pleasant - some reveal the dark secrets of life.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - Fluff, Angst (a lot of angst), swearing, 18+ SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people)

Square filled - Showering together (implied) ( @spndeanbingo )

Word Count - 2.5k

A/N - This is the second part of the series Stranger (my brain hates oneshots). Prepare for the slow burn people.

The dividers are by @talesmaniac89 and the banner is by me.

A/N - This is the first time I have ever written smut. I have tried my best lol. Also thanks to @bucky--barnes because her fic Innuendos helped me a lot to write the smut part. There are certain parts in the smut that irked me a little while writing so I decided not to include those but maybe in the future I can write about those (I'm very new to this whole thing).

Okay enough of nervous rambling, just go ahead and read it!

“This is the last time I'm warning you! Step away from the cake,” you yelled making your husband jump and drop the piece of the cake, “what did you do?”

“You shoufn’t haf yellt,” he spoke with his mouth full.

“Get. Out. Now,” you seethed as you examined the destroyed piece.

“I like it when you get all bossy,” he goes to grab your waist but you successfully dodge his hands. “Y/N,” he pouted.

“Those eyes won't work on me Mister,” you raised your eyebrow, “and I need to clean up the kitchen because your dumbass acted like a child.”

“I didn't.” He grumbled.

“Leave the kitchen now. Go check on your demon spawn,” you said.

“Hey, he's half yours.” He argued.

“He got all your bad qualities,” you smirked. Dean stared up at you with his green eyes and said, “maybe our baby girl will get your bad qualities,” he caressed your still flat stomach.

“How do you know it's a girl?”

“Father's instinct,” he said.

“That's called mother instinct-”

“So fathers can't have instinct?” He grinned.

“That's not what I meant, you fool,” you said.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked, “So you think-”

“Mommy, Daddy,” Jaxon, your three year old came running into the kitchen with Scooby hot on his heels.

“What's up kiddo?” Dean turned and picked up the little boy in his arms. Scooby whined and nuzzled his face into Dean's legs, trying to get his attention. “You're not forgotten, buddy,” he started to pet the German Shepherd.

“Cake,” Jaxcon said and hid his face in the crook of his father's neck.

“Bad qualities,” you threw a look at him and saw him shrugging.

“We have to wait for Grandma and Grandpa to arrive sweetie, then you can eat it,” you said.

“Okay,” he pouted.

“Come on Y/N, give him one piece,” Dean said.

“Don't encourage our son. If he gets a sugar rush, you have to deal with him,” you shook your head at your husband.

“Scout’s honour,” he grinned, as you cut up a piece of the cake.

Dean put the little boy down into a chair, when he started wriggling in his arms. Jaxcon immediately dug into the sugar factory as soon as you handed him the plate. You walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, as Dean kept a close eye on the boy, his hands occasionally petting the dog and scratching his ears.

Life was good. After that night at the bar, you had met Dean again. You were having a bad day - you had just handed the resignation letter to your pervert boss and walked out of your office, when you had bumped into him on the streets.

“I feel like you are my guardian angel who just pops up whenever I have a bad day,” you had laughed.

“Maybe it's a sign from the universe for us to be together,” he had said, a big grin plastered on his face, “let me take you out on a dinner. You won't have another bad day.”

You had agreed and one thing led to another and here you were now married to him with a child and another one on the way, organising a family gathering to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of your parents.

“Hey babe, I think your parents are here,” Dean called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah got it,” you shouted back.

“Hey Mom, Dad, happy anniversary,” you greeted as you opened the door.

“Thanks sweetie,” your Dad leaned into giving a peck on your cheek.

“Mr and Mrs. L/N,” Dean greeted, “thirty years huh? Happy Anniversary. Come on in. Your daughter has made some delicious food items.”

“Dean,” you chided but couldn't stop the smile that was threatening to spread over your face.

“Soon you will be celebrating your thirtieth anniversary. Time flies when you are with the right person,” your Dad said and you knew your Dad was right.

So yeah, life was good.

“It looks like a freaking djinn,” Dean said, clutching the steering wheel tightly as he drove back to your town. He gritted his teeth in anticipation, as he focused on the road ahead.

“Dean you need to slow down or else we'll be dead even before we reach the town,” Sam frowned, “maybe it's a Djinn, but I am sure that Y/N/N’s absolutely safe.”

The older hunter's jaw ticked as he tried to put a brake on his racing thoughts - why did he always have to think of the worst?

After another hour of driving, Dean pulled up his car in front of a house. Jumping out of it, he jogged up the stairs and knocked on the door waiting for a reply.

“Dean stop! Maybe she is at work,” Sam intervened before his brother kicked down the door.

“No. She is in a huge ass danger. I can feel it Sammy,” Dean said, gripping his brother's shoulder tightly.

“You need to focus, Dean. I don't think you freaking out will help us at all. We need to treat this as any other case,” Sam said, “maybe Y/N’s safe after all.”

Nodding his head, Dean went back to his car, Sam following closely. They drove over to the nearest motel. Within a few minutes, they had switched to their fed suits and started going over the case and the alibi of the witness.

“Man with tattoos appeared out of nowhere. Bingo!” Dean exclaimed, “I told it seemed like a case of the tattooed suckers.”

The Winchesters started working rapidly - from interviewing the witness to finding out the locations of abandoned warehouses and buildings in the town.

“Uh….Dean. I think this might be the location where the Djinn is tak-”

Sam’s words were interrupted by the shrill ringtone of Dean’s phone.

“Agent Shaw speaking,” Dean said, “another missing report?....Name?” Sam saw his brother's eyes widened with fear and anger, as he continued to speak with the person over the phone.

“Thanks for letting us know,” He said and disconnected the call.

“There has been another report filed, another person has gone missing. Her name is Y/N L/N,” Dean breathed out, “I am gonna kill every one of those sons of bitches.”

“Mhm,” you groaned, as you were woken up from your deep slumber to your husband peppering kisses all over your face.

You opened your eyes to see him staring at you with his forest green ones. Pulling you close, he captured your lips in a sensual kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his teeth slightly grazed your lip. Without letting go of your lips, his hands started to work on the buttons of the flannel which actually belonged to Dean, unbuttoning it successfully and you laid there in just your panties.

“De-” you whimpered as he started to leave a trail of kisses down your bare body. His calloused hands massaged your breasts, his sinful mouth started to suck at the sweet spot on your neck, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth.

“That's gonna leave a mark. Gonna let the world know you're mine,” he growled into your ears, his voice making you shiver with anticipation. As his fingers worked on your already hardened nipples, his mouth slowly moved south.

Spreading your legs apart, you felt his hot breath at your clothed, wet core. “N-need you,” you breathed as you felt him starting to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mhm, so fucking wet already,” he mumbled, as he swiftly ripped off your damp panties.

“Dean, p-please,” you whined.

“Please what?” He gave you a cocky grin, his fingers brushing past your sensitive clit.

“Either fuck me or put your magic fingers to use,” you pouted which immediately turned into a gasp as he put a finger inside you. He started to pump at a slow pace. Your back arched in ecstasy as he picked up the pace. He put another finger, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bedsheet tightly. He curled his fingers inside you and kept pumping at a quick pace, brushing your g-spot over and over again.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, as your hand left the bedsheet, to tug at Dean’s hair, entangling your fingers with the short, soft strands, making him groan.

“De, g-gonna c-co-” you whimpered.

“Then let it go, sweetheart,” he rasped and that's all it took as your body shook with pleasure, you came hard on his fingers. Dean moved up to you as you panted, your mind and body in a euphoric state. He pecked your lips lightly as you tugged at his boxer’s band but he lightly swatted your hands away, “so impatient.” You noticed the sizable bulge in his boxers. He grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure as you palmed his cock through the soft material of his boxers.

He pulled down his boxers, his hardened length sprung free. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes.

“Nuh-uh,” he groaned pushing your hands away. “I won't last long i-if you do that a-and I wanna be inside you.” You let go of him, giving into his plea.

He kissed you once again as he lined himself in front of your entrance. ��Fuck,” you gasped, your eyes fluttering close as he pushed himself inside you.

“Shit sweetheart,” he groaned, “not gonna last long.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, failing to form any coherent sentence, “m-move.” Dean obliged, slowly pulling out of you till only his tip was inside you. He kept thrusting into you, “s-shit, baby.” You jerked your hip forward, trying to meet his pace. He quickened his pace as he roughly kissed you. He continued to ram into you, his cock brushing your g-spot every time, making you moan out loud. His hands travelled all over your body. He let out a breathy moan as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Gonna c-come,” you whimpered, your pussy clenching around him.

“Let go baby,” his thrusts became a little sloppy, as Dean inched towards his climax. Your hands gripped tightly onto his biceps, as his fingers entangled with your hair.

“Fuck Dean!” You cried out as the coil inside you snapped and you felt yourself coming undone, “fuck!”

Dean thrusted into you a few more times before he let out a guttural moan, his seed spilling inside you, coating your walls. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck as he collapsed on top of you. Panting, Dean pulled out of you, as he rolled to the other side of the bed. You both laid in bed, as you pulled the covers up to cover your modesty.

“Morning,” you smiled.

“Morning,” he whispered, pecking your cheeks, “I'm gonna go and get a shower. Join me.”

“No funny business. You have work and you are already running late,” you warned, “and the kiddos are up.”

“Scouts honour,” he said as he walked into the bathroom in all his naked glory. You removed the covers and climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

“Y/N,” you stopped in your tracks as you heard a voice calling your name.

“Dean? Did you call me?”

“Nope.” Your husband replied from the bathroom. You shrugged off the feeling and went into the bathroom, joining your husband. Needless to say, you guys didn't make it out of the bathroom in time.

“We already have a ten months old and a five year old. Don't you think you should tame your libido?” You said, while feeding your daughter.

“I can't keep it in my pants with you walking around me,” Dean said, “sooner or later, I will put another baby in you.”

“Daddy!” Jaxcon exclaimed as Dean leaned in to kiss you.

“What?” He groaned making you chuckle.

“I will be late for school! Hurry!” The son urged.

“Who gets so excited for school? He is a nerd like you!” Dean said and walked over to his son not before he had kissed you. “Take one to know one. Go or your boss will kick you out!”

Ava, your ten months old, babbled as she waved at her father. “Oh look, your baby girl says bye,” you said, catching your husband's attention.

“Bye Ava,” Dean waved back as he followed your son out of the door. This was your daily morning routine.

“Y/N, sweetheart, wake up,” you heard the voice again but no one was in the house anymore except your daughter who could hardly form complete words.

“Who is it?” You called out in the empty house.

“Y/N, sweetheart wake up,” Dean said to your unconscious figure lying on the ground. Exhausted, injured, Dean desperately tried to wake you up. Tears pricked at his eyes, as guilt ridden thoughts made their way into his mind. Two lifeless bodies of the djinns laid on the ground beside you.

“Sammy, she's not waking up,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Let's take her back to the bunker. I already gave her the antidote. If she doesn't wake up, maybe we can look through the archives of the British Men Of Letters,” Sam grunted as he stood up. They both were beaten up but none of them suffered any life threatening injuries. Dean picked you up in bridal style, as he made his way towards his car. Sam joined you and Dean after he was done burning the bodies.

The drive back to the bunker was tense. Sam was in the driver's seat as Dean was in the backseat with your head resting peacefully in his lap. He caressed your face, removing a few loose strands of hair, as he waited for you to wake up with bated breath.

“What if the antidote doesn't work?” Dean asked, worry evident on his face.

“You remember what happened with Charlie?” Sam asked, “we have to use African Dream Root to wake her up. We have to invade her dreams.”

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

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moralesmarkers · 3 years

Text

i am steter trash so i wrote an au where stiles is a spark that lives in the forest because he killed his dad in an accident back when he was a kid and couldn't control his magic and his moms family was just made up of mages and he is the first one to actually be a born spark with loads of power so she raises him and teaches him everything she knows

and in this au sparks are being hunted and put down like animals so claudia builds a house in the forest with stiles where he can live and study magic on the land of their family and after she dies stiles moves there.

(and yes hes a lot older in this because it makes me antsy to write about eighteen year old stiles and adult peter. sorry. I'm a pussy okay.)

and stiles meets his gang! and scott is a dryad, lydia is a mermaid, jackson and danny are mermen (and jackson and danny are together by the way), i planned allison as a regular human that meets scott on a walk in the woods and falls in love with him later in the story because the hale fire storyline is still happening, and kira is an ancient kitsune who also lives in the forest and is good friends with stiles, and erica, boyd, isaac, liam, theo etc are not there yet but thats cause stiles is pretty alone.

he just minds his own business and takes care of the dryads and meets fairies (who live in the forest) and makes a deal with them that they'll stop screwing around with humans and stay in the forest and he'll protect them and take care of them because sparks are powerful and the fairies appreciate that instead of being afraid of him.

and stiles just does his thing for a couple of years until the fairies go a little bit too far and peter hale, who is stupidly a little too far in the forest on his patrol, gets caught in a storm they cause and gets lost in the woods, and he finds stiles' house and stiles takes him in and gives him dry clothes and then guards him back so peter won't get himself fairy'ed

and then a week passes and stiles is kind of anxious peters family will tell him to fuck off the woods (even though it's stiles' heritage to take care of the forest, the hales just live there) and then: the actual plot

a little apple dryad tells him scott found a dying fairy. this fairy apparently told scott in her dying breath something wolfish killed her, and stiles wrongly thinks peter and his family did that, and he goes to find scott to ask him about it, but scott is just gone. stiles can't find him and gets worried and checks his wards, and when he gets to the wards around the hale property, he meets laura. he asks her if she's seen scott, and she saw him going back into the forest, but stiles still can't find him.

laura leaves and stiles finds the ward to their territory broken, and it stinks like druid, so he figures it was this deaton guy because werewolves aren't sneaky like that.

stiles visits lydia (because he still can't find scott and lydia knows how to calm him down) and finds out jackson and danny saw a monster while making out under the surface of their lake and from then stiles knows that the hales have got nothing to do with this because what lydia describes Is Not a werewolf.

so he gets pissy, and then ultimately is enraged when he finds a dead stag this monster killed, and because he's pissy he visits the hales to tell talia he's rightfully going to kill their emissary for being a bitch and breaking his wards and letting some monster walk his territory.

and talia is all "what the fuck how do i not know you." and stiles is all internally "i see my darling peter kept his promises" and then he's internally like "wait fuck i'm not really in love with this guy am i" and then he's like "oh. OH."

and talia convinces him not to kill deaton because shes awesome and stiles grumpily agrees because... not agreeing would be a dick move and it would mean. War. Basically.

so the hales offer their help looking for scott and stiles finds this monster thing on his search and its a wendigo yay, and scott has been following this thing around for days now because he's a dumbass and wanted to help, and they bro out

and the hales and stiles kill this thing, which means magic action. and stiles is awesome. and everyone knows that now.

what follows is just steter get-to-know-eachother and the hale pack are the biggest wingmen (wingpeople) ever and there's fluff and magic and a lot of flowers because stiles is a person that can't for the life of him say the words "i love you" and gets incredibly anxious when people say "i love you" so he mostly displays his feelings for peter in hanakotoba, the traditional japanese flower language that kira taught him, and peter eventually catches onto that and they get together in a load of angst and fluff and they have sex. because of course they have loads of sex. bold of you to think peter can keep his hands off stiles for longer than a day and likewise.

and there is like a load of stiles/hale pack friendship dynamics because i love them all and then suddenly yeehaw. hale fire.

So paige has already happened in this timeline before stiles and peter met, and derek still meets kate and she does her scum thing and uses him. a bunch of hunters show up to the hale house, shoot them with wolfsbane bullets and gather them so they can burn together.

stiles wakes up in a rush because something bad is happening to his wolves but then his eyes fall closed again and he can't get out of bed for a solid time because someone freaking poisoned him and he's fevering and weak and everything is dizzy, but he forces himself up because something. bad. is happening. to his. wolves. he stumbles into his kitchen and almost dies right there and then, because the poison is wolfsbane and he feels like he got tons of it shoved down his throat by the person that poisoned him. his life starts flashing in front of his eyes and he fights back at it and vomits the wolfsbane out, believes it out of his system and when it's gone, he's just left raging.

because i hate kate, stiles loses control when he meets her at the hale house and kills her. he gets the pack and gets them out of the house, breaks the mountain ash circle and they leave. the hales can't go back to their house because the place is swarming with hunters

and peter and stiles figure out it was deaton who told kate everything she needed to know to set this trap and the mountain ash circle also stinks like druid, so deaton gets revealed as being the bad guy all along. stiles figures that he also poisoned him so he wouldnt interrupt, and that deaton wanted thalias alpha spark. the wendigo was a test and deaton put it there on purpose to see how strong stiles was and if he would care about the hales, because deaton knew stiles would feel the hunters killing them and ever since peter and stiles got together the druid knew he would have to murder him too to get the hales dead.

and stiles is just half feral in his wrath and the aftermath of the wolfsbane poisoning, and derek is sobbing and muttering about this being all his fault, and peter has two bullets stuck in his knees and has to be held up by his niece and his brother-in-law, and every one of them is shot and hurt and crying and talia does her best to comfort derek while shaking as well

and stiles just closes his eyes. takes a deep breath. and takes care of his family-in-law, because fuck if he isnt gonna marry peter after this. he takes them in, gives them clean and comfortable clothes, patches them up, lets them shower, yeets his living room so they have space for a big puppy pile, gives them food and water to drink and then draws a ward around his house that is strong enough deaton won't be able to find them unless he sells his soul to the king of hell.

when he's done with that, he locks the hales in and asks kira to take care of them and make sure they're okay while he's gone. she agrees and stiles goes and because he's angry and kind of more dark than i let slip until now so he just. slaughters the hunters that are left. and he enjoys it.

then he shows up to chris argents house, shocks the living hell out of allison because he's still covered in blood and ash, and goes talk to gerard, who is there for alibi purposes. he just flatly tells the truth and asks gerard how many times they've done this now. and the second the old man lets slip the hales weren't the first, stiles goes full Older Derek Hale Mode and slams him against a wall to threaten the living shit out of the man.

by threaten i mean he says that he'll kill him and there's nothing the guy can do about it, cause stiles will find him, no matter how far he runs. yknow bamf dark stiles shit. i am living for writing this scene right now bye

and then he looks at chris and allison. allison looks scared out of her mind and then she asks if thats true. if her family really did something like that. and chris has to look her square in the eye and tell her through gritted teeth that, altough he didnt know about this, yes, they did that to innocent people.

and stiles looks at chris and gives him a nod, because he knows the guy can get this right, he knows allison is strong and fierce and will be fine no matter what. he looks at gerard and sneers at him in disgust. then he leaves like the dramatic bitch he is, but not without ensuring chris will clean this mess up and make an alliance with talia.

he goes back to the house and the only one still awake is peter, and stiles breaks down completely, covered in blood from head to toe and scared out of his mind too. peter holds him, gently leads him into the shower, and helps him get cleaned up, washes his hair, picks out clothes for him, and they go to sleep together.

then, recovery. stiles organizes therapy for derek because lord knows the boy needs it, he nurses the hales healthy, shows them around in the house, they meet his friends, cora and lydia take a particularly special interest in each other, scott is sad because allison broke up with him but stiles visits the argents and talks to her a lot and they become friends too, and he knows scott will get over her eventually, just as she's getting over him.

and stiles shows the hales his life for a while until everyone is recovered, and then they go back to the hale house that he cleaned up already (because, uh, corpses had to be buried, floors had to be cleaned from blood and the smell of magic and mountain ash had to be erased)

and then peter proposes to stiles and they have a beautiful wedding by the lake where cora can talk to lydia, and derek ends up talking to scott quite a lot because scott is nervous and sweet and falls head over heels for the quiet werewolf, and guess who allison ends up with? nobody. because allison is fucking awesome and in the hunter business and she takes it upon her to start cleaning up the community and goes against hunters that are like her aunt just killing innocent people and a relationship with anybody would just be annoying. maybe she realizes she isnt even into relationships, i don't know that yet. aro ally would be interesting, dude.

And then in the end stiles goes to live with the hales and they mend their territory together so he can still visit his friends and he leaves the house to cora who eventually moves there as an adult so she can live with lydia. he and peter move out as well and they go back to town when stiles is ready, because he's lived so freaking long in the fear someone will hunt him down and kill him for his power, and now everything is peaceful. so he puts down his weapons, stops fighting, and lives happily ever after.

and has loads of sex with peter. just because.

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writtenmemxries · 4 years

Text

You lit a fire in my heart

AU in which Dean is a firefighter, Castiel is a babysitter that panics a bit too much, and Jack has no idea that he shouldn’t follow his cat up on a tree.

[1822 words]

Of all the things Castiel could have done that Friday afternoon - go to the pub with his peers, go to the library, go grocery shopping - he was happy to babysit Jack, his best friend’s seven-year-old son.

Ever since Kelly got pregnant after a one-night stand, he had never left her side. They had met in high school, and thanks to their similar characters they quickly got along. They even went to college together. But then, when they were only twenty, Jack was born, and Kelly, going from carefree girl to single mother, was forced to drop out.

She felt the weight of her peers’ gazes on her, always ready to judge her, to point their finger at her, to whisper petty words.

“She forgot the condom, can you be more stupid than that?”

“They say the baby’s daddy left her alone, it was just a booty call!”

“Poor Kelly, she’s twenty and her life is already ruined.”

Those whispers haunted her incessantly, and Kelly couldn’t help but blame herself. But Castiel was always there, with her. He had never turned his back on her, he had never insulted or denigrated her, he had never looked at her with those eyes full of pity and compassion that she hated so much.

He simply helped her. He bought diapers. He kept an eye on the baby when she had to go to work in the small supermarket not far from home. He played with the kid, read him books, watched cartoons with him. He helped her raise Jack.

Still best friends after all those years.

Jack, growing up, often wondered where his real father was, why he wasn’t with his mom, why he didn’t love him enough to stay with him. But whenever his blue eyes met Castiel’s, all doubts suddenly disappeared. Castiel was enough for him. Or, as he called him, Cas.

So when Castiel had to look after the kid that afternoon, he didn’t mind. Or at least, not until Jack decided to play tag with his favourite toy: Gabe. The most annoying cat Castiel had had the misfortune to meet. His fur was red and his eyes greenish, as bright and magnetic as they were sly and mischievous.

“Jack! Be careful, for God’s sake!” Castiel shouted for perhaps the third time that day, but the boy ignored him completely, continuing to jump from one side of the living room to the other, trying to catch the big cat by the tail. His cackles were so loud that even the neighbor next door probably got a headache.

Sometimes Jack was a calm, quiet, polite child. Other times, however, he was a real scamp, impossible to get to sit and calm down.

“No wonder she asked me to keep an eye on him today. I’ve never seen him so freaking spry,” Castiel muttered to himself, adjusting the pot of plants that the cat had dropped with its long tail, hurrying to take a broom to clean the mess on the floor.

It was then that, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gabe sneaking out of the open window, jumping onto a low branch of one of the big trees in the garden.

“Jack?” Castiel called in a hesitant voice.

There was no answer, and when he saw the front door close behind his ruffled blond hair, he felt his heart in his throat.

“Jack?!”

He ran out of the house, dropping the broom to the ground, scattering the dirt even more on the floor.

To both his immense horror and surprise, Jack was climbing up the tree, strangely nimble, trying to reach the cat, who was looking down at him with indifference. One foot after the other, an uncertain hand grabbing the low and strong branches, Jack managed to pull himself up with a force that one would never expect from such a small and minute child.

“Jack!” Castiel exclaimed, visibly agitated. “Get off the tree immediately!”

“I have to go get Gabe first,” the boy said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if he had done it a million times. And maybe he really had.

“Gabe is a cat, Jack. Cats know how to climb down trees by themselves.”

Jack giggled. “Gabe wants me to go get him. We’re playing tag!”

Castiel sighed in exasperation as the boy continued to climb.

Where the hell had he learned to do it, anyway?

“Jack, if you don’t get down here immediately, I will call your mother!” Castiel threatened him, but the boy didn’t seem to care.

“Who do you think taught me how to do it?” he said, shrugging.

Castiel rolled his eyes. Of course it had been Kelly. The same Kelly who had taught Jack to swim and ski has also taken him rock-climbing. Great.

He could almost hear her voice, sweet and calm, say something like, “Those are important skills, Cas!”

And in the meantime, Jack had managed to grab Gabe and was now hugging him, sitting on a branch far too high for Castiel’s liking, with his back against the solid trunk.

“See? I got him!” Jack beamed.

Castiel gave him a forced smile. “Okay Jack, well done. Now can you please get off there?”

Jack’s expression changed in a jiffy. He looked around, then looked down at Castiel, and finally seemed to notice how high he actually was.

Holding the poor cat even tighter, Jack shook his head hard in fear.

He was as frightened as Castiel was, and even though the young man kept repeating to himself no panic, no panic, he was definitely in panic.

All right Castiel, he thought to himself. Calm down. Don’t panic. Call the firefighters. He’ll be okay.

“Okay Jack,” he yelled to make sure the kid heard him loud and clear. “Don’t move from there, okay? I’ll go get help. We’ll take you down from there.”

And in the blink of an eye, he ran into the house, grabbed his cell phone and quickly dialed the number of the fire department.

If explaining on the phone what kind of emergency he was having was embarrassing, seeing a fire engine park in the driveway of Kelly’s house - still unaware of everything - was absolutely ridiculous.

A man, perhaps a couple of years younger than Castiel, got out of the truck and walked briskly towards him. The bulky fireman clothing made him look bigger than he was, but my God was he attractive.

Castiel found himself staring at him more than it was socially acceptable.

The young man looked at him with a smirk. “So, your son likes to climb trees, huh?”

Castiel blushed. “He’s not my son. I’m his- his babysitter.”

He laughed. “Are his parents paying you to train him to climb the Everest or what?”

“Do you get paid to be this funny or what?”

“Oh no, I’m a natural,” the man said, grinning. Castiel knew that that smile shouldn’t have made his heart miss a beat. But it had.

Castiel snorted and rolled his eyes, hiding the smirk that was growing on his lips.

“I’m Dean,” the firefighter said, holding out his hand.

Castiel stared into his eyes, so green and bright.

“Castiel,” he replied, shaking his hand.

Dean gave him another toothy smile, and Castiel couldn’t help but notice how white his teeth were. And so his gaze inevitably fell on his lips, so pink and full. Then it went up to his nose, thin and freckled, and finally it fixed itself again on those mesmerizing green eyes.

Dean cleared his throat, bringing Castiel back to reality. “I’d better get that kid back here, we don’t want him to get traumas from the experience,” he joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Castiel nodded. “His name is Jack,” he said without even knowing why.

Dean hinted a smile, then went to his colleague, who lowered the ladder to the ground to bring him up to where the kid was. He was watching the scene from above, trembling and with tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay Jack. You can trust me,” Dean said quietly as he got closer.

“You’re a fireman,” Jack noted.

Dean smiled. “I am. And I’m here to help you and your friend Garfield over there.”

Jack furrowed his brows. “His name is Gabe.”

Dean laughed. “Alright, let’s take you and Gabe back to Castiel, okay?”

Jack nodded and let himself be picked up by Dean, who grabbed him gently but firmly with his strong and warm arms, and slowly went down the ladder.

Once they were finally on the ground, Gabe jumped out of Jack’s arms, while the child immediately fell into Castiel’s hug, who was relieved to see that, apart from a few scratches on his hands, he was fine.

“Stupid little monkey, what were you thinking?” Castiel muttered, burying his nose into the boy’s hair, taking in his scent.

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Dean said, watching the scene with a smile tugging at his lips.

Castiel released Jack from his tight grip and held his hand, perhaps to subconsciously prevent him from running away again.

“Thank you Dean, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Dean chuckled. “My pleasure.”

He stood there, shifting his weight from side to side.

Castiel watched him, a slight blush on his cheeks. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to your job, then. I’m sure you have lots of children to rescue.”

“Oh yeah, so many lives to save, kittens to rescue... busy days.” He took a deep breath, looking away. “It’s a shame that my evenings are all boring instead, y’know.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, and he thought he saw a hint of hope in Dean’s eyes, who now stood right in front of him. “Yeah... M-mine too,” he whispered.

“I guess you’re free tonight, then,” Dean said, fixing his eyes into Castiel’s blue ones.

He swallowed. “I am.”

Dean smiled. “Perfect,” he said, taking the pen Castiel kept in his shirt pocket - and if Castiel shuddered at that brief contact, he pretended not to notice - writing his phone number on the man’s hand. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

The sudden sound of the truck’s horn made them both wince in surprise.

“Dean, you ready or what? They’re waiting for us at the fire station!” his grumpy colleague exclaimed from inside the fire engine.

Dean gestured vaguely with his hands, then shifted his attention back to Castiel, waiting for an answer.

“Sure, see you tonight,” he said softly.

Without furthed ado, Dean headed for the truck, waving shyly at the man before climbing into the passenger seat.

Taking one last look at Castiel, who was staring with confusion and disbelief at the numbers scribbled on the back of his hand, Dean turned to his colleague with a fond smile.

“Bobby, do you believe in love at first sight?”

103 notes · View notes

woogyu · 3 years

Text

Funny Drabble Game

Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny (when requesting PLEASE add which prompt list it is from)

Can have up to 3 prompts per request + can send multiple requests.

They will all be written for fem reader. I’m very sorry about this, it is just because of what I know/have experience in writing.

Please format requests as follows; funny member prompt # or #s.

ex. funny member #12 + #15

ex. funny florist!member x student!reader #14

Send your requests/asks: here

~ prompts under the cut ~

crossed out = don’t request, usually for when I’ve gotten tired of a specific prompt coming up too often or I don’t like it

Drabble Prompts [credit; https://justforshitsandcackles.tumblr.com ]

“You’re such a fun drunk.”

“Since my dog likes you then i guess i like you.”

“Tell them to fuck off.”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I want to strangle you 99% of the time.”

“Could you not suck for five minutes?”

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed/bedroom too!”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“Well thats tragic.”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“You are actually insane!”

“I think you’re actually satan.”

“It’s like -50 degrees in here.”

“Laugh at my jokes! They’re funny and you know it!”

“Sorry isn’t going to help when i kick your ass!”

“Don’t let one of them electrocute themselves or something.”

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

“Do you find this amusing, fuck face?”

“Holy shit! That thing is huge!”

“Don’t kink shame me.”

“I hope i’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”

“I just cleaned that!”

“Don’t get sassy with me!”

“What do you have behind your back?”

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

“I’m going to put on some clothes before you say anything else.”

“Bite me.” “If you insist.”

“Im not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend/boyfriend.”

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?”

“You snuck into my room, at 4am..to cuddle?”

“If we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“What? No! I wasn’t staring..i-i was looking at something behind you!”

“I locked the keys in the car.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“Define normal.”

“Do i get bonus points if i act like i care?”

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and i don’t speak english.”

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

“And you wonder why you’re single.”

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

“I’m listening to you. I’m just not paying attention.”

“She’s crazy. and just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, theres a crazy underground garage.”

“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

“My middle finger salutes you.”

“I don’t think i could ever stab someone. I mean, lets be honest, i can barely get the straw in the capri sun.”

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how i feel.”

“Somebodys cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

“All due respect but thats a bunch of crap.”

“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

“What did i tell you about calling him/her the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

“I’m not weird. I’m limited edition.”

“If history repeats itself, i am so getting a dinosaur.”

“You seem somewhat familiar. have i threatened you before?”

“Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!”

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

“Do i regret it? Yes. Would i do it again? Probably.”

“You’re going to burn in a very special level in hell. A level they reserve for child molesters, animal abusers, and people who talk at the theater.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress. i’m a damsel doing damage.”

“Sometimes i question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

“Why should we date?” “Because we’re attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but i do not feel the need to date pie.”

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me.” “It saves time.”

“You’ve successfully cured him/her of anything interesting about his/her personality.”

“Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

“Wow somebody needs a happy meal.”

“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if i came with instructions.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

“I’m so glad you could come.” “Cut the crap. give me a drink.”

“Where have you been all my life?” “Hiding from you.”

“I can tell that you think what you’re saying is funny, but…no.”

“If you pull out my earphones, i will pull out your lungs.”

“Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. thats cute.”

“I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom.”

“My ex? Yeah id still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or a baseball bat.”

“Such big evil in such a little thing.”

“For the love of fuck.” “Yep, thats me. i love to fuck.”

“Are you ready to go?” “Yeah. let me grab my machete.” “We’re going to sephora. no machetes needed.”

Clears throat seriously, “Yas bitch.”

“No road trip is complete without the snacks. So go in there and buy everything you can fit in a tiny cart.”

“I’m all for making you miserable by being insufferable, but unfortunately i have things to do today.”

“Come on, you can help me make conspiracy theories. If you make an especially good one, ill pay for dinner.”

“You know what? Why not? I haven’t ruined my life yet this week. Lets go.”

“Do these dark circles under my eyes say nothing to you about how i am doing?”

“If i didn’t know you better, id say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.”

“What are you talking about? Im hilarious!”

“Duct tape? Duct tape is not going to fix this!”

“What did you think? That you were going to fight him?”

“You’re blocking the view.” “I am the view.”

“Why are you on the floor?” “Tying my shoe.” “You’re wearing rain-boots.”

“Cant stop me from slaying!”

“Close your eyes and imagine it, all the dogs in the world.”

“Be careful, he’s so sweet you might get diabetes.”

“Would you reconsider if i was sober?”

“Stop running i’m wearing flip flops!”

“Why are you holding your boobs?”

“I wouldn’t call it stalking, more like far distance admiring.”

“You need to stop making her laugh! you’re ruining her makeup!”

“I’m sure i can get some kind of sexual gratification from just staring at him if i try hard enough.”

“I’m not sure if its a sexual thing or not.”

“I’m either in the mood for french fries or to rip someone’s head off. Hmmm. decisions, decisions.”

“If you’re not out of the shower in the next five minutes, i’m going to cut your fucking hair off to make your life quicker.”

“No, i will not dress up as a chicken.”

“I never told my extended family that we broke up, and now they want to know when you’re coming over for dinner again.”

“I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“One more sound and i swear to-”

“Sometimes when (name) texts me, i just pretend they didn’t so i don’t have to respond.”

“You gave our pigeon boyfriend the wrong beans!”

“If i’m like 50 and still single, ill marry you because tax benefits.”

“Please, never have children.”

“I know its like 11pm, but i’m on my way to your house with nacho fries.”

“Sometimes i wish i was gay so i wouldn’t have to deal with all these dumbass boys.

“You know, would’ve been nice if you told me your whole ass family was coming to this dinner! I look like a troll.”

“Im going to the party to pet the dog, no thanks drugs.”

“I hope in college i get some excuse to deck him. Maybe with a bottle or something, ill wing it and be like “oops, sorry shithead, my hand slipped.”

“What is this shit…i’m just trying to graduate.”

“Ooo, i sense attitude in your tone.”

“Guess who only got two hours of sleep? Me, lol, i’m gonna die.“

“I’m gonna strangle you.” “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Superheroes aren’t allowed in my house, especially after they’ve destroyed my living room. go away.”

“oh you’re coming. even if i have to drag you through the snow in your pajamas.”

“i swear you’re gonna end up getting like botox in your tits or something.” “well i mean-” “whAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen drabble game #seventeen funny #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #svt #seventeen requests

11 notes · View notes

plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

Photo

Ok, so I had to do this after reading @justasimplesinner ‘s absolutely adorable and precious h/cs for Arkham Knight Riddler meeting his s/o’s family for the first time. I mean, AK!Eddie being happy? Having some sort of family? It hits me right in the feels 😭

But I was inspired to write something similar for Telltale Riddler and his s/o but with a twist. I mean, it’s already going to be quite different considering how Telltale Riddler is, but I’m taking things a little further and getting a bit personal. Since I self-ship with him, I figured, why not turn these h/cs into self-insert ones?

Basically, Telltale Riddler meeting my family for the first time on Christmas.

The h/cs will reflect what the reality of my family is like but I won’t get, like, too personal. Y’all don’t need to know everything.

Pre-headcanons warnings to be fair:

There is a little but of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s a little bit spicy.

These are self-insert headcanons, not reader-insert ones

This is an age-gap pairing since I’m 33 years old and Telltale Riddler is 60 years old.

Anyway, let’s head on into these h/cs for Telltale Riddler meeting my folks for the first time (and that seems awkward as hell to write but hey, I’m fictosexual so....🤷‍♀️)

There is a little bit of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s definitely a little spicy.

It’s the first Christmas spent with Eddie since becoming a couple, and it’s also kind of an awkward time because family, you know? And, well, my parents don’t know I’m dating anyone...let alone THE Riddler.

It’s going to be a challenge getting them to accept me dating someone nearly twice my age (I’m 33 and Edward’s 60, but damn, did he age like fine wine or what?) But revealing that it’s the goddamn Riddler?

So, yeah, I’m freaking out but I also realize that I have to tell them eventually because it’s only fair, for one, and keeping it a secret for a long time would just make things worse if -- or more realistically, when -- my parents found out on their own.

Plus, I’m not ashamed or afraid to date Edward. He treats me much differently than he treats most other people, and I want my parents to know that, yeah, he’s Riddler, a criminal mastermind but honestly, he treats me better than any guy has and I’m actually happy.

Edward isn’t nervous but he’s concerned because he doesn’t want to complicate things between my parents and me, doesn’t want to bring unnecessary drama and angst into my life. He can handle people disliking him -- hating him -- but he doesn’t want the only person he’s ever truly cared for to have a damaged relationship with her family because of him.

But we discuss it and decide it’s better to just go ahead and do it. Rip off the band aid and get the pain out of the way as fast as possible, so to speak. Whatever happens, happens, and hopefully it’s nothing (too) upsetting.

I call my parents and tell them I’m coming to visit for Christmas, and I reveal -- while my hands are shaking and my heart is pounding from the anxiety consuming me -- that I want to bring my boyfriend.

Oh, I have a boyfriend? For how long? How did we meet? What’s he like? What’s his name? Why the wait to tell them about him?

I know it wouldn’t go over well to just show up at my parents home hanging off of the goddamn Riddler’s arm, like, “Oh, hey, my boyfriend is a criminal genius, don’t ya know?”

So, I approach telling them over the phone the truth slowly, cautiously. I say his name is Edward and we met kind of by accident and we’ve been dating for a good portion of the year. It’s my first Christmas with him, actually.

Wait, it’s been that long and I never told my them?! What the hell?!

Needless to say, they are baffled and also concerned about this news.

I explain the awkward but less, uh, shocking news that he is an older man, and I was worried they’d be upset about that. They ask how old Edward is and I hesitate, wondering if I should lie and say he’s, like, in his early 50s because he could easily pass for that age. Hell, even I thought he was in his early 50s (or even very late 40s) when I first met him.

However, honesty is the best policy, and this is not even the “bad” news yet.

I say that he just turned 60 years old this year in a calm, cool, casual tone, like I’m talking about the weather and not revealing to my parents that I’m dating a guy who is my dad’s age.

There is silence and I internally panic because if they’re angered or appalled by this, they’re not going to handle finding out who Edward is well at all.

They are surprised, a little worried for my wellbeing because they think Edward’s some perverted Sugar Daddy to me. They don’t say it like that but it’s heavily implied.

I explain that’s not the case at all, that he’s actually very sweet towards me.

My folks decide to go along with this bit of news because hey, I’m 33 years old. I’m an adult. I can date an older man if I want.

Then comes the “fun” part, which is revealing to them what Edward does for a living.

I laugh nervously, and Edward, who has been patiently sitting beside me on the couch, realizes what I’m about to tell my parents. He watches me closely, hoping this doesn’t turn into a disaster for my sake.

“Yeah, so, Edward, yeah...Edward is...well, he’s, um...Well, he’s, he’s a genius. Like a tech genius, great with electrical engineering, computers. And uh, his job, his profession, his, um, career? Yeah, that’s...well, he’s...”

I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst.

“He’s The Riddler, one of Gotham’s...elite....masterminds.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is so terrifying that I feel like I’m going to faint from how anxious I am. Edward places a hand on my knee as a means of comfort, still wanting to give me some space to breathe and calm down.

My parents aren’t...thrilled, to say the least. I’m dating a fucking criminal mastermind?! I’m dating RIDDLER? THE RIDDLER? What the goddamn fresh hell is this?!

I start crying because I’m so stressed about this, and Edward moves closer so he can put his arm around me. He feels bad, he really does, and it shows in his troubled expression, but there’s not much he can do. It’s not like we can take this back and say, “Oh, hey, just kidding!” No, this was the truth and now we were dealing with the consequences.

I manage to get my parents to calm down long enough so I can get a word in. I get up off the couch and walk to another room to speak to them alone.

I tell them I know it’s not the most pleasant news to hear, and I know it seems awful, but it’s the first time I have been with a man and he’s treated me well. Like, really well. It’s not just the nice gifts or expensive dinners. Edward does genuinely care about me. I don’t feel like a “booty call,” he doesn’t ignore me, he doesn’t threaten me, he’s never abused me and never will. He’s not the same person with me as he is with some other people. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

It takes some more convincing, but once I get it through to my parents that yes, I’m actually happy and yes, I’m safe and yes, Edward is a very doting boyfriend, they decide to meet him at Christmas. I know they will still have concerns and may be a bit cold to Edward at first, but I hope they would see what I see.

The day arrives and I’m a nervous wreck. Edward is worried for me. He assures me that everything will be ok, and I want to believe but I’m still scared.

Deep down, he thinks maybe dating me is a bad idea -- not because he doesn’t love me but because he feels like he could damage my relationship with my parents. However, he doesn’t bring this up as he doesn’t want me to be even more upset than I already am.

Edward had brought with him some gifts for my parents and my grandma (she was staying with them, too). He brought the most most beautiful bouquet of flowers and a necklace for my grandma, a very lovely diamond bracelet for my mom, and a high-quality (aka expensive) watch for my dad.

I had to dress to impress and by that, dress in things Edward had given me to give my parents more visual proof that he was taking care of me. But I was careful not to overdo it. I didn’t want my parents to think I was his piece of...eye candy.

When we arrive, my parents greet us at the door, giving me a much warmer welcome than they give to Edward. They’re not rude to him, but they look uneasy, even a little irritated.

Edward, being the charming bastard he is, keeps his calm and showcases his gentlemanly side. It’s genuine because he IS quite the gentleman as I have learned, but I don’t know if it will be enough to convince my parents to accept him.

They appreciate the gifts, seem a little caught off guard by the pricey but very lovely things Edward bought them. They also notice I’m wearing a dress that cost a pretty penny and jewelry just as extravagant. But none of it’s gaudy.

Basically, I don’t look like Riddler’s trophy girlfriend.

Edward is courteous and charming, which seems to help my mom relax a bit. My dad still looks rather tense, though.

My grandma, being 90 and having frequent issues with memory, doesn’t remember who Edward actually is. My parents told her but she had forgotten and it was probably for the best.

My grandma is impressed with Edward, finds him to be a proper, handsome gentleman type. She also was very grateful for the gifts he brought her.

Edward is very patient with my grandma, which I know isn’t easy due to her memory problems. But he is very relaxed, behaving pretty much like he does around me.

We all have dinner and chat, and the tension in the air lightens. My parents even laugh at a few humorous comments from Edward. He thanks my parents for allowing him to visit and for the wonderful dinner, and offers to help my parents clean up.

Good. This gives my parents time alone with Edward which, as nerve-wracking as it is for me, is something that needs to happen. They need a one-on-one with my boyfriend...and hopefully it didn’t turn into a mess.

I stay with my grandma and act like everything’s fine as I anxiously wait to find out what my parents will ultimately think of Edward.

They are upfront with him once they’re alone with him, asking him if he’s putting up some kind of act or if this is all really him. They also ask if he genuinely cares for me or if he’s just using me because I’m “young and pretty.” They don’t hide their feelings, my parents, and they are concerned for my safety and happiness above all else. They NEED to know that Edward is good to me despite being Riddler. They can’t tell me who to be with but it would put their mind at ease if they were assured I was in good hands.

Edward is honest with them. He isn’t putting on a front. He is gentlemanly by nature with people he likes and respects, and he’s a bit old-fashioned in some ways anyway due to his age. He doesn’t fake his feelings for anyone, and while he does want my parents to accept him as my boyfriend, he knows it’s not an easy choice. He also tells them they have every right to reject him, and he won’t hold a grudge towards them about it if they do.

If anything, he’s earned scorn more than kindness due to how he’s lived his life, and that’s fair. He accepts that.

But then he explains that no, I am not eye candy for him. He’s not a play boy looking for a “good time.” He’s serious about me and feels things towards me he’s never felt--never expected to feel. I’m the one thing in his dark and violent life that is bright and soothing, even though he’s done nothing in his life to deserve such a sweet and caring partner.

He tells them that I’m always protected and cared for, and he has made arrangements to ensure I’m still protected and cared for if -- or more realistically, when something happens to him.

Being Riddler’s girlfriend has its perks. No one messes with me, that’s for sure, because they know I’m important to him, and they know what he is willing to do to keep me safe.

As scary as that is to hear, my parents find some relief in that. Yes, Edward is The Riddler, a criminal mastermind who strikes fear into many. However, he takes care of what is precious to him -- and not much is precious to him. Actually, nothing is save for me. I bring him a lot of joy and much-needed peace, and he’d give his life to protect me.

I deserve to be happy, he tells my parents, because I am a good person unlike him, and he works hard to make sure I know I’m loved and cared for, that I’m good enough and that he has no intentions of leaving me or cheating on me for someone else.

Edward also assures my parents that, should they need anything, he can provide. Of course, he won’t force his help on them but he won’t ever turn them away either. He looks out for those that mean a lot to me, who are close to me, regardless of who they are and how they feel about him. That is a promise he makes to my parents, too.

He also comments on how they have been taking care of my grandma pretty much on their own for a couple years now, and he knows from what he has observed and from things I’ve told him that it is a very exhausting duty. It’s an admirable one, though, for sure, and he respects my parents for being good people.

He sees where I get my kind nature, he tells them.

He says that he can pay for live-in help for them, like a live-in nurse, someone who can help take care of my grandma and let my parents have a break every now and again. Also, should she need anything that isn’t covered by her insurance, he will cover the costs.

Same goes for my parents, who aren’t the healthiest people in their old age (Edward has the regenerative properties of the LOTUS virus on his side -- they don’t). He doesn’t tell them that obviously, that they’re unhealthy, but he says should they need any expenses covered for treatments, medication, etc., he can provide.

Because he is THAT serious about me.

My parents are, to say the least, much more confident in my relationship with Edward now that they’ve talked with him one on one. They give him their blessing, so to speak, to be my boyfriend, and appreciate his generosity. They do ask for help with live-in aid for my grandma, and Edward says pick who they want and he’ll pay whatever insurance won’t cover.

I am beyond relieved that my parents have decided to accept Edward, and am so grateful to him for offering his help to them...because they need it and deserve it.

He tells me it’s no trouble at all, that whatever makes me happy makes him happy, and he’s more than willing to aid those that are important to me.

Edward and I stay over Christmas Eve so we can spend more time with my family on Christmas Day. We get the guest room which has a small bed, so we’re “forced” to get close.

Of course, I can’t resist tempting him even now, and he doesn’t turn me down. I do warn him that we have to be careful because, hey, my folks are here in this house and I’m not the quietest lover.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he tells me with a smirk. “I came prepared for any eventuality.”

Needless to say, I need to be gagged because Edward makes sure I have a Merry Fucking Christmas -- literally -- and also makes sure I know how much he both loves and desires me.

We decide to leave out the whole Dom/Sub aspect of our relationship in regards to my parents.

We also don’t tell them about how I call Edward, “Daddy” almost any other time 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦💦

My mom also refuses to believe he’s 60 years old because he’s so good-looking 😄

#telltale riddler #edward nigma #the riddler #riddler #self-insert #self-shipping #riddler headcanons #edward nygma #slightly nsft

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djg80s · 3 years

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Rushing things ends with a broken heart!

3 years of my life are gone, shattered, dreams and goals with Nathan are gone. I thought I found the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Maybe there’s a chance still? Maybe getting a divorce is the best decision. Maybe we will be friends maybe we won’t. This will make us better people as we need to work on our own personal issues. Right now I can honestly say I’m lost, one second I’m happy and motivated the next second Im sad and full of anger and have hate towards Nathan.

Our life began when we met in 2018, I lived in Las Vegas he lived in Colorado. We were engaged 2 months in our relationship and did long distance for 6 months. It was hard being away from each other. We see each other once or twice a month but every time it came to good byes we cry like babies. Nathan moved to Las Vegas 6 months later to be with me and also to finish his education. On 12/31/18 we were married, we moved fast but we knew we wanted to be married and share our life together. We had a future of traveling the world together, having our dream home and having a son named Zane.

The first year was amazing but after the year things started changing. My anxiety started getting out of control wondering how will I support us when he had a hard time finding a job. He was my husband of course I had to worry about having a roof over our head and food on the table and make sure the bills were paid. I started counseling to deal with my emotions. But that’s something Nathan wasn’t used too. Soon I learned that Nathan just wanted to party and be with his friends. His escape was raves party drugs and cocaine. A life I didn’t want to have anything to do with. The casual raving I’m ok with but not the drug part. I grew up around addiction all my life with an alcoholic father, cousins on hardcore street drugs and aunt who used cocaine. So image how it felt having a husband the love of your life doing these things it wasn’t easy.

I set boundaries he broke them, the lying got worse and continued. He would never talk to me about things he would run to his friends and took there opinions to heart, he denies it but the only way I could find out anything at the time was to read his messages. Soon I learned he was over the marriage. The kisses the sex the cuddles was all fake. I gave him everything I possibly could. I felt used and abused, but yet I held on and kept moving forward as he did the same. Then Covid-19 hit and we decided we wanted to move back to his home town Denver Colorado. I was all for it moving and having a new beginning together, but also Colorado is beautiful I couldn’t say no. I had my doubts that things would get worse when moving to Colorado as this is his home.

We made our move to Colorado into a beautiful bougie apartment that I didn’t want but nathan and his grandmother insisted. This was supposed to be a one year thing starting out and helping his grandmother and cousin. I was for it but soon I learned his grandmother and cousin are the worse house cleaners ever. It got to me I admit as I’m a clean freak and so is Nathan.

As time progressed things continued to go down hill, he point the finger at me in reality there were 3 fingers pointing right back at him. I got a hotel room for a week to get away to reflect my feelings he cowardly wrote me a letter and left it in my car at work. He was done and that he was tired of hurting me. While I was gone he came to the hotel and we talked, I basically told him I’m done and I don’t want a child with his drug problem and relive my childhood trauma of losing love ones to addiction. He accepted it and then mentioned he was going to Arkansas to be with his party friends to find himself again.

Few days later I took him to the airport he mentioned will get marriage counseling when he returned I didn’t know what to say or feel when he said that. While he was gone he broke our values and committed adultery his true colors came out. I wanted to file for divorce right then and there but foolishly his grandmother and mom didn’t want us to separate even though his mom knew what he did she wanted him to learn a lesson and wanted me to file for separation instead. But I listened to them and let it go. He returned we reconnected it’s like nothing never happened. But my trust was gone and I questioned him where he went or who he was with when times and things weren’t matching up.

We moved forward but the issue was still there, he continued to be selfish. I needed a new car I got one and he decided he wanted to upgrade his. Shame on me as my name is on both of these new cars. I lived like this for a month but things continued to go south and adding on his family drama too. Me trying to be a good person we confronted a issue his grandmother was having. Tempers roared at 2 am and his grandmother attacked me and threatened to kill me. The following day his mom disrespect in my own house and I told her get the F out I don’t take disrespect in my own house. I was wrong speaking to her but I don’t tolerate disrespect from nobody.

Two days after the big fight me and Nathan decided we give our marriage another year if things didn’t get better then we would go our separate ways. Not knowing that Tuesday he made amends with his family and they encouraged the break up. He told me that night he wanted to separate. I was angry and talked down to him that he takes the opinions of other and can’t make his own decisions without asking people first. I encouraged the divorce the following day but I didn’t expect him to cry and show emotions since these past 3 years he never showered it, only the time we were long distances. We cried together and held each other that this was the end.

I quickly wanted to move out but my emotions were high, I just needed time away. We made an agreement of things that it will take time for us to actually file for divorce as I took a leave of absence from work and his contract at his job is ending we leave everything the way it was and would respect the marriage until it was officially over. But it wasn’t long he was already on the hook up apps searching for a man he already broke the agreement, I was furious and wanted to return home and pack up all my belongings and leave him with nothing. But the whole time I was gone we kept talking, he kept saying I didn’t have to leave but in the back of my mind why do I want to live with hypocrites who just took advantage of my kindness, but right now I’m stuck I have no place to go or money to do anything that’s how much of a bind I’m in.

Returning home has been different I don’t want to be here as all I’m doing is getting hurt, he quickly moved on and it shows the love is no longer there on his part. His friends only heard one side of the story but when I told him that he got offended which tells me he is also lying to them and I’m the bad guy, he did nothing wrong but then again they never cared about me since I was against the drugs. All I can do now is just worry about myself but that’s easier said then done.

Take the time to really get to know a person before rushing into marriage. If the feeling is mutual they will wait. Learn the good and the bad and really think is this the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Don’t go into it blindly like I did as later on you find out the truth!

#long distance relationship #marriage #divorce #heartbreaking #diary #used and degraded #heartbreak #i was lied to #journal

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munamania · 4 years

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the promise (ch. 1)

a/n: hi yes i wrote for the clown gays like a year ago and im deciding to post this now sjdghfg pls be kind

pair: richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak

word count: 8.5k

warnings: swearing, blood ment, homophobic slurs, abuse mentions, psychological trickery, richie’s parents start out a lil absent but they get better i promise

excerpt: “You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

“I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.”

“I know.”

read on ao3

No, it’s not that Richie is gay. It’s not like he daydreams about taking it up the ass all fucking day.

Henry Bowers and his dipshit crew might have a different opinion, but they can honestly, truly suck his dick (in the non-homo way - he has taste). The fact that they took joy in throwing him and his friends around, calling them names, and threatening their whole lives never mattered before; the losers took care of each other, and most of the time it was easy to forget about those other assholes.

Being called four-eyes when he needed glasses in the second grade never got to him that bad - they were saving him from having to see their ugly faces when they knocked them off, so really, he should have thanked them - and he didn’t care when they shoved him around for being short before his growth spurt, and it didn’t even bother him that much when they mocked his totally refined voices. He knew his own talent, and what he could do with it if he could just focus.

But the first time they singled him out as the fag of the group, well, it stung.

He never told the others about that day. He never told them how long he cried, how broken he felt sobbing on that park bench. He never worked up the nerve to tell them why he couldn’t face Paul Bunyan anymore, no, he simply breezed past without lifting his eyes, without missing a beat of conversation.

At least it got easier with time.

All things considered, his home life isn’t terrible.

Richie has his own room, a roof, and usually a decently-stocked fridge. Enough to get by.

He’s left alone a lot. His parents are always at work, and when they’re not, they take on the personalities of monotonous robots sitting in front of the TV, so he spends a lot of time skimming through comics or jacking off when he’s not running around with his friends.

But, that’s just the thing. Somehow, Richie, life of every conversation, King of Comedy, Trashmouth, funny-man Tozier, was born to the most boring people of all time. They never engage with his jokes; on a good day, he receives a breezy, “That’s nice, sweetie,” from his mom, or, “Okay, that’s enough, son,” from his dad. Blank stares. Pasty, purple-tinted white eyes. Never a hug, never much past a ‘goodnight.’ Not even a simple, “How was school?” when they got home.

Richie vividly remembers the day that he bounced in his seat at the end-of-the-year ceremony at school, a bustling bundle of nerves prepared to brag and boast to his parents about his awards in science and, surprisingly (his teacher hated him) English - he took to the dramatics of Shakespeare quite well. He practiced his entrance to them several times over in his head, perhaps overly, unconvincingly modest or Shakespeare wants what I have. Anything to get a laugh. A ruffle of his hair from his dad. A forehead kiss from his mom, like when he was little.

They didn’t show. He still doesn’t know where he went wrong.

In a stark, bubbling contrast to his parents, there’s this kid in his group of friends. He remembers one of the first times they met, the boy approaching him, all sweet apple-cheeked and neat polo and ironed khaki shorts; Richie had flicked an eyebrow upward, a not-so-subtle really?, because he never figured that clean-freak Eddie Kaspbrak would be able to handle more than three seconds in Trashmouth Tozier’s presence.

But boy, was he a lot of fun.

Eddie was loud and super easily wound-up, screaming about fucking UTIs and do not fucking push me man all the piss on the walls of this city could fill the lake and despite his good-boy appearance, he shot back with just as much fire as Richie threw at him.

And fuck, Richie loves it. He loves the ease with which they bounce back and forth. He loves the fury in the boy’s eyes when Richie pisses him off, the laughter that always comes about between them once they settle. The crossing arms and pouting Eddie, who he theorizes secretly loves it when Richie calls him pet names (not that he’d ever admit it); the loud and greatly-gesticulating Eddie who yells louder and pushes harder when Richie coos at him; the one who quietly accepts Richie’s affection, and offers it back in subtle ways: simply holding Richie’s arm when he slings his arms around Eddie’s neck from behind, allowing him to sit next to him thigh-to-thigh, and overall not completely cringing and pushing him off. He took it as a compliment, though they’d never mention it out loud.

On an unfortunate night, his comfortable little world comes crashing down.

His parents are out for some sort of conference weekend trip or whatever, and they’ve called in his deadbeat uncle to ‘watch over the house.’ Not necessarily him (probably because he isn’t home that much), but the house obviously can’t stand up by itself—and, well, maybe they didn’t trust Richie to not accidentally leave the door open, or leave the stove on, or some other stupidly irresponsible little thing. So, the crusty old guy shows up with his greasy, oiled hair and his lack of deodorant and his wilting knees. It makes Richie miss Eddie so, so much when they part, because a.) he smells a lot better, and b.) it would be fucking hilarious for him to see what Richie has to put up with. Like, he’s really not the most rodent-like of his family.

Anyway, Richie doesn’t remember what he says. Something slightly instigative, about the lack of any gourmet-level food in the house (he claimed calmly while wasting away on microwave tater tots and bread, even though his parents had left behind plenty of money to keep him alive), and then suddenly hands were on him.

It stings like a bitch.

His uncle gets up, with a quiet mumble that Richie makes out to be, “Well, let’s see…” and when he finally gets in the kitchen, facing Richie with eyes rung red and shaking fists, he grabs his nephew by a fistful of t-shirt and shoves him against the counter.

At that moment, he really wants his mom. Why the fuck did she and dad leave him with this guy?

“I don’t see you fucking working, or doing much of anything around here, kiddo.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”

A blow to his mouth. Richie resists the urge to lift trembling fingers to the spot that he can feel swelling.

“Don’t talk to me like that, asshole! You think you’re so fucking funny, huh?” His uncle drags him forward and shoves him back with conviction, and this time Richie doesn’t answer.

He should have known to stay quiet when he saw his uncle drinking and smoking incessantly in the house, even though his mother had requested that he stay outside for that. It must have been a rough day at the bar, or wherever the fuck he spent his time.

“You need to learn when to be quiet, dipshit. Have some fucking respect.”

For the guy who ignored him for years, didn’t stay in touch, and wasted his existence away on the couch.

Right.

But Richie is snapped from his indignant, grounding thoughts when his uncle lowers his voice. “Do I make myself clear?”

Richie frowns in his face, utterly confused from the swell of attention, still limply holding a bag of bread in his left hand.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes sir.”

The wretched man makes a point to push him into the corner of the cupboards with such a force that he collapses to his knees and can just feel the bruises forming. And he sits there for a minute, all sorts of betrayal and anger and sadness suffocating him.

But he stands up.

And with stinging eyes, a stuffy nose, and shaking hands, he makes himself a simple peanut butter sandwich.

And he stays upstairs for the remainder of the night

It’s a warm, soothing day outside; the sun glows and birds are chirping like some kind of fucking cartoon. In the tall grass the losers sit in frogs croak and crickets chirp and they make a mess of themselves in the circle they form.

“Damn, Rich, what happened to you?” comes Stan’s voice, concerned eyes flashing down to his now royally fucked-up mouth.

“Yeah, dude, what the fuck?” says Bev through a sandwich, truly a charmer.

Richie grins at Bev but answers to Stan, ignoring the sting in the corner of his lips. “Guess I’m a fighter at heart.”

“Richie—“

Bev chimes in once again, a bright, snarky grin on her face, “Richie, you can tell us if it was another accident, we won’t judge. Promise.”

Bev has a way about her; he knows she’s not genuinely the largest, most gaping asshole on earth, and that she actually cared a lot and cried over her friends in the darkest nights, but she also knew how to make light of something dark (even the worst). She probably knew. She probably just had his back in her own funny way, like taking the pressure off the reality.

“Bev, I’ve really, truly, always appreciated your charm, but as my dearest favorite person on earth, fuck off.”

“Richie,” Bill says, then hesitates. In that time, Bev flips Richie the bird, which he answers with an air kiss. “What really h-ah-happened?” He looks him over with a frown, clear blue eyes swallowing him in concern and maybe love.

Richie offers a simple smirk before settling against the trunk of a tree. “Don’t worry about it, Billiam. I’ve got it under control.”

“Whatever you say,” Bev says. She tosses a baggie over to him with his favorite sandwich.

Stan isn’t so easily convinced, eyeing Richie up carefully, but he sits with Bev on the boulder she’s settled on when Richie doesn’t falter in his casual disposition.

It takes a lot of work, as always.

Ben shows up moments later, with a calm and tender, “You alright, Rich?” and when Richie goes off on a stupid tough-guy spiel, he simply lays at the foot of the boulder and flicks open a book, meeting Richie with one of his melting smiles, a gentle invitation, a sweet If you ever need it, I’m there, but allowing him the space to go on as normal. Which is nice.

Richie knows they all care. He knows he could tell them, could pour all of the terror and tragedy he felt the night before into the air and they’d fill up the space; Mike would give him the tightest hug in the world, one to combat the most heinous of things; Stan would sit with him as long as he needed it, Bev would come through with a smoke and the best advice in the world, and Ben would tell him stories or just hang out with him until everything felt a bit lighter, and Bill would give him anything in the world because Richie would do it back. That’s the way they were.

But he can’t do it.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” comes a nasally voice, huffing and puffing, new pressure leaning against the tree, and Richie grins. Eddie.

“It’s okay, Eds,” he says, reaching over a few fingers to tickle Eddie’s knee, giggling when the boy smacks at his hand and doubles over with an exclamatory, Richie!

The others offer a few sleepy greetings, all soaked up in their own forms of entertainment for the quiet afternoon: Bev and Ben, heads close enough to share his walkman; Stan, reading some lengthy oath to birds or something; Mike snoozing lightly on Bill’s shoulder while Bill pores over some adventure map from a fantasy novel.

They had all agreed that it was too tiresome to go swimming today, as the previous night was spent out at Stan’s with a bonfire, and for a few of them, some stolen booze (not very much, but enough that they could pretend to be drunk and giggle profusely). But they still wanted to hang out, so this was the middle ground. An afternoon picnic in the shade.

Eddie quickly notices his lip and drops down to his side. “Richie, what happened to you? Was it Bowers again? I swear to god, I will fucking kill that guy--”

Richie smiles softly at the protective words, and tries to turn it into a smirk. “Eddie, baby, don’t worry,” he says. “It’s just a little bump.”

Surprisingly, Eddie sidles up next to him, using the pad of his thumb to press at the sides of Richie’s mouth, apparently assessing some sort of damage. “Don’t call me that.” He scowls. “What did you do? Did you ice it? Clean this cut at all? Cause you could get an infection, you know, you really should clean it.”

Richie bats his eyes. “Clean it for me, sweets?”

“Fuck off. Forget I cared.”

“Ah, come on, Spaghettio. I didn’t mean it.” He pulls Eddie down with a simple gesture, pressing his palm to the boy’s shoulder and dragging. The boy rests against the trunk, nestled in Richie’s side.

But that’s the complicated thing. He sorta wishes he could mean it. In a small, poking-at-the-back-of-his-head-always kind of way.

“Just—tell me what happened,” Eddie pipes up quietly from his side.

When Richie glances down, he takes to heart how disgruntled Eddie still looks, crossing his arms and almost pouting.

He shrugs. “Your mother was simply affronted by how good I am with my mouth, Eds, she couldn’t take it anymore.”

Eddie presses his mouth into a line, rolls his eyes at the stupid British voice Richie had developed, and busies himself with a thrilling edition of The Lancet

Later, as dusk settles in and pale purple skies replace the bright blue, and the club leaves with simple ‘goodbye’s and promises to do something fun tomorrow, Eddie shifts from his nap. He’d passed out with his head slammed back against Richie’s arm (he’d caught it just before he fell to the ground, avoiding a lengthy rant about potential concussions and medical bills), curled in the opposite direction from Richie’s abdomen. As he wakes, through, he rolls over, elbow digging into Richie’s side.

“Ah-ow,” Richie groans, sitting up from his cataconic state of reading Ben’s stolen comics and avoiding moving and waking Eddie. But he’d just dug the pointiest part of his entire firecracker body into Richie’s ribs, where Richie had attempted and failed to nurse a bruise he’d accrued from a vicious cupboard corner. It was at an awkward angle, and he refused to go down to get more ice packs once they melted, so he slept unsoundly and laid uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles, voice muddled with sleep. “Shit, it’s late. When did I fall asleep? My mom’s gonna kill me.”

Even in that gurgly, world upside-down state of post-nap consciousness, the boy freaks out about his mother. Richie sighs and rubs his shoulder.

“You’re all good, Eddie boy,” he attempts for a creaky, witchy voice, but it’s half-assed because he gets so tired of this lady. Not Eddie ranting, that was fine, and he knew the kid needed to get it out of his system; but he was fucking tired of Mrs. K hurting his boy. “You took your meds on time, fell asleep shortly after. Might need to amputate my arm now, though.”

His boy.

Eddie sits up, and Richie stares at his back, illuminated in the dusk, because he wore a fun yellow today, resting prettily against his tanned, freckled skin.

(Maybe Richie had looked over, amused, for a few moments, as Eddie snored and twitched his nose in his sleep; and he counted the freckles on Eddie’s arm, his cheek, whatever he could see for entertainment.)

Eddie glances back at him, and Richie distracts himself with his bag, shifting his eyes awkwardly from the boy’s gaze.

“Well, well, good sir, shall I walk you home on this fine night?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Richie, what’s that?”

His eyes are trained intently on the aforementioned bruise, and its cousins that pepper his hips, only exposed because he slipped and let his shirt ride up when he bent over.

He clears his throat, scrambling for some dumbass answer, wholeheartedly unprepared for the severity of this conversation. “You know how the ladies throw themselves—“

“Okay, you know what, fine.” Eddie stands quickly, stumbling slightly, and braces himself against the tree. “You don't have to fucking tell me. Just come home with me, okay?”

“A night with Eddie Kaspbrak? Why, you’re really a dream-come-true kind of guy.”

“Your lip is bleeding again,” he responds simply, apparently not one for fun at this very moment. “I can clean it.”

Richie pops up from the ground, feeling quite pip pip, tally ho about the whole thing. “Righty-o, Eddie boy.

That’s how he ends up sitting on the edge of Eddie’s porcelain-white bathtub, dirtying it with his messy jeans and dirt-coated nails.

It takes a lot of strategic planning, lots of sneaking past Mrs. K, and then sweet-talking and kisses from Eddie once she wakes up freaking out about how late he was. But, after about fifteen minutes of contest-worthy screeching from the woman, Eddie stomps up the stairs, slams the door with a very I’m gonna pull my hair out look, and has to take about three extra minutes to compose himself, ranting under his breath.

Richie just stares at his distorted reflection in the shining silvery faucet, the violet under his eyes and the renewed puffiness of his lip, Hawaiian pattern of his shirt disheveled in the odd mirror.

He knows not to engage unless Eddie actually speaks up to him, meaning this run-in was probably just overly grating and mentally draining, considering, well, how his mother is. He just needs a second to get it out, not any kind of heartfelt talk (which Richie sucks at anyway) or even a lighthearted joke. The boy paces and growls into a fist. Then, eventually, he breathes, “Okay.”

Eighteen minutes. Eighteen minutes of sitting around and waiting for Eddie, just for him to kneel in front of Richie, doe eyes clear and focused, dabbing so, so gently at his battered lip.

In a way, it’s heaven.

“I take it your mom can’t wait for me to buy dinner, eh?”

Eddie sighs. “Apparently this time I’m gonna contract malaria, Rich, didn’t you know? There’s an incredible outbreak this time of year and I’m obviously not prepared to avoid fucking mosquitoes, what with my fifteen bottles of bug spray and essential oils. I’ll probably die tomorrow!”

“I will make sure that your funeral is a fucking rager dude, don’t you worry. Booze on me.”

A ghost of a smile.

“Richie…” he breathes out in a long winded way, saying nothing and everything for way too long. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

Richie raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you were gonna back out on your previous offer, but I guess the call for a night with Richie Tozier is too much to back away from. I get it.” He smiles painfully at the way Eddie’s face crumples with something like boredom. “Christ, dude, what’s your poison?” He makes a face at the antiseptic substance that trickles into his mouth.

“Maybe if you kept your mouth shut for once, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

Richie beams, which just causes Eddie to huff even more.

“Please, just stay still!

“It was my uncle,” Richie finally says, forcing a bored expression onto his face as he flips through a rather dull magazine, sprawled on Eddie’s bed. “And it wasn’t a big deal.”

Panic flashes across Eddie’s face. His cheeks burn red, and his leg jitters anxiously against Richie’s, but his voice remains level, which Richie thanks dear lordy Jesus for. “Your uncle? He hit you?”

“Well,” Richie pauses. “Uh, kinda. He was just really drunk, Eds, and he got mad and I was in the way.”

“In the way?”

He shrugs, a small smile quirking his lip up. “Am I not usually?”

“Rich.” Eddie’s voice is really soft in that moment, gentler and quieter than anything Richie has heard from him in all the time he’s known his fellow loudmouth. It simultaneously terrifies and thrills him. Eds. Eddie brings his knees to his chest, leaning back against the headboard. “You say a lot of dumb shit, but that doesn’t mean you should be hurt.” He must notice Richie’s uncomfortable look, because he adds lightly, “Most of the time, anyway.”

“Woah, Eddie, don’t go overboard with the kindness or anything--”

“Damn it, Richie.” He casts his eyes downward. “I’m just trying to say - um - thanks for telling me. Sorry if that’s fucked up to say, but I know you didn’t want to, so, yeah. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

Richie swallows deeply with a slow nod, focusing his eyes on the blurry words in front of him. “Well, if there’s anyone I’d tell, it’s Dr. K. He’s gonna be the one to save my life, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right.” He kicks at Richie’s foot, a subtle way of telling him to move over so he can get under the covers.

“Night, toots.”

“Goodnight, Richie.

Richie thinks he knows everything possible about Eddie thus far.

He knows when he needs to take his meds, an internal clock he recently developed; he knows that the boy is not nearly as fragile as he sometimes seems, and if he really tried, he could pack a punch; he knows that he loves fervently and he’ll always take care of his friends, even if it’s in a way that would usually disgust him.

Case in point: he didn’t seem to freak out at Richie’s bleeding lip, even when a steady stream of blood started dripping down his chin from the contact of trying to clean it out, though he usually cringed if he got so much as a scratch from a twig. Somehow, some way, he simply held pressure on the wound and told Richie to hold some ice on it (“Ordering me around now, hot stuff? I can work with that,”), and washed his own hands thoroughly in the sink.

What he doesn’t know until that night, is that Eddie is a cuddler. At least, half-asleep, groggy Eddie is. Like, this kid must be more starved for affection than he is. Richie had curled himself in a ball toward the edge of the mattress, willing himself not to do so much as even press his back against Eddie’s, way too afraid of the ease with which two people can tangle themselves together in the night, terrified of what would happen if he woke up with Eddie’s hands on him, wrapped up in Eddie, Eddie’s terrible morning breath against his cheek, Eddie Eddie Eddie. But while Richie had stressed himself into falling halfway off the bed, Eddie had flopped over in his sleep, slung an arm across Richie’s waist and, seeming to sense that he had something to hold, pulled him in tight to his chest. Though Richie’s breath caught in his throat, he figured, well, no one could really see them then, so what was the harm in passing out like that? No one had to know. He could pass it off like he’d been sleeping the whole time.

But he cherishes every fucking minute of it

Richie wakes to the sound of something pounding, a steady beat, and in that state of slowly waking from a dream he thinks it’s some old drum, playing lowly in the corner by some restless figure. When he comes to, his eyes creaking open slowly, he sees the gentle orange-ish hue of the morning sky, the neat room around him, the scent of detergent and soothing fabric softener wafting near his face. And he realizes his head is tucked into Eddie’s side, the boy’s slowed heartbeat thumping softly against his ear.

Normally, he’d just let Eddie sleep, as he’s usually only the asshole waking everyone up when it’s the whole gang. He doesn’t mind spending a few hours by himself in the morning. In fact, he enjoys the opportunity to try to fall back asleep (even though he never does).

But with a sudden impulse, he lays a palm on Eddie’s ribcage and pushes himself up onto his elbows, then shakes the boy.

“Eddie.”

A muffled, “Mmph?”

“Eds, wake up.”

The boy drags a pillow over his ears for all of two seconds before Richie tickles his stomach. Then he crankily sits up and lets out a gruff, “What?”

Richie grins. “The sunrise, Eds! Look, it’s so pretty, you have to believe me.”

Eddie responds by laying his cheek on Richie’s shoulder blade, slumping forward with his eyes still closed. “You do know,” he breathes, “that if the sun is just rising, it’s like, six a.m.?”

“Hmm, 5:49, but close enough, I suppose.”

The most huffy breath that Eddie can manage at this hour tickles the hairs on the back of Richie’s neck. “Did you know that people who don’t sleep enough die a lot younger? There are serious health consequences.” It doesn’t come out in his usual fiery, punctuated tone; it’s soft and filled with a yawn and he’s pretty sure Eddie might fall back asleep just like that. “You can’t die early on me, Richie. And I don’t want to. Go back to sleep.” He peeks one eye open at the window, squinting at the glow of the sun. “It is pretty, though.” With that, he falls back against the pillow and curls into a ball against the wall.

And Richie’s pretty damn sure in that moment that he’s, like, in love

And, sure, that’s terrifying.

He has no one to talk to about it and nothing could convince him it’s normal, so he shrugs it off and pretends it isn’t there.

Cause that’s a good way to cope, right?

It doesn’t matter that Eddie is so easily comfortable with him—he’s a low-pressure person, is all. And no one had called out the way pet names rolled off Richie’s tongue so easily, because that was just a part of his joke. Normal. Easy.

Until it wasn’t

You see, there’s this bitch Pennywise. This idiot clown terrorizes his friends, kills people, haunts their nights and days, and fucks with their minds. Tries to turn them against each other. And they can’t even throw a jest back! It’s a sick system.

Well, anyway, the losers end up in some crickety, wooden, falling-apart-at-the-seams murder house on Neibolt, because Bill wants to find his brother and none of them are willing to abandon him. Instead, Richie gets to see himself dead, face off with a monstrous fucking clown, and hear heart-wrenching screams from Eddie that he can’t even help, because he can’t get out.

When he does, he reunites with Stan and Bill, using the few seconds he has to catch his breath.

Just as quickly, he loses it.

In front of him lies Eddie, arm twisted at the ugliest, most heinous angle, and not only is he probably in pain and freaking out about the arm, but a 7-foot tall clown is sauntering towards him with a stupid swaggering gait, like it knows that they can’t do anything to save Eddie.

Eddie.

The boy cowers against dust and fallen wood that must be itching to give him splinters; tears streak down his dirty face and his chest rises and falls rapidly, as Pennywise taunts him. Fucking horses around, making stupid noises and joking while Eddie falls apart, and Richie doesn’t know how to save him, even after everything Eddie’s done for him. Richie is vaguely aware of Stan grasping his shoulder, trying to ground him, and he silently thanks him as he glances around for fucking anything to use as a weapon, because he certainly can’t jump into this blindly--

Then Beverly busts into the room and stabs the bitch in the head, and Richie can’t think but his feet are moving and he lands in front of Eddie in the few seconds’ time he has to play catch-up. He reminds himself to remind Bev of just how much he loves her later.

For now, though, his focus is Eddie. His ears are ringing and he’s noted the commotion going on behind him, he even realizes that Bill ends up at his side, but his gaze is right on his Eds, grasping at his face, trying to do anything to help him.

“Eds. No, no, no! Look at me! It’s okay. Please be okay.” He steadies his voice and tries really hard not to think about how much he sucks as a caretaker, how he has no fucking clue what to do, but he’s scared and he desperately just wants to take Eddie from the room and keep him safe, forever and ever.

Terror-filled eyes find him as the clown continues toward the three of them, flexing horrendous claws; Richie kneels in front of Eddie and Bill’s at his back, and Richie knows Eddie acknowledges him but he’s whimpering and shaking and staring back at the clown. And Pennywise is thriving.

“Eds,” he says, louder, grabbing Eddie’s chin and forcing it in his direction. “Please just - fuck the clown, okay? Fuck everything. It’s me and you. I’ve got you.” And he’d probably be much more convincing if he weren’t shouting and clinging to Eddie’s shoulders like it means death.

But, he seems to capture the boy’s attention, as he keeps his eyes steadily on Richie and blinks a few times. “My arm!” he cries. “Fuck, I can’t fucking move. I’m gonna die. It hurts, Rich.”

“Hey, you’re not gonna die. I don’t die early on you, you don’t die early on me. That’s the deal.”

“Some deals are made to be broken.”

Eddie is just staring at him, blank eyes staring through him with a grin, a stark contrast to the screaming that was going on just moments before. A surge of panic rises in Richie’s chest, like a freezing wind knocking through his stupid little preteen body. He shakes his head in confusion.

“Eddie, shut up. It’s just your arm. You’re gonna be fine!”

A shrug. “Who’s to say?” And then he sits up, arm convulsing at his side like some dying snake, and Richie flinches and flies back into Bill’s chest. He can’t do this. He can’t help Eddie like he should, he can’t take care of him like he wants to. He’s a coward.

“Rich.” Bill is a million miles away.

Right here, right now, is that thing in Eddie’s place, body rattling like a rag doll. “They’ll find out.” Eddie’s voice is fucked up, scratchy, and his eyes are all wrong; the way he’s staring at him is fucking uncanny. “Get too touchy, Rich, and you know what’ll happen.”

“Stop, please, fucking stop!”

“Richie!” Bill is finally right there, shaking both of his shoulders from behind. “S-stop. You’re f-f-fine. It’s just fucking with your head.”

It takes a few deep breaths, but Richie turns to him and says a quick, ‘Thanks,’ before turning back to real-Eddie, who is now dry-heaving and wailing at the sight of his arm.

Eddie’s chest thrusts forward and back rapidly, and he keeps trying to back further from the bedlam in front of them. His face contorts into an absolutely heart-wrenching cry, and as he looks at Richie, gripping his hand with an iron fist, Richie’s heart splits in two. It’s hard, it’s way too hard not to say I love you, after all that. And it’s hard not to run.

“I don’t wanna die - ”

Richie crawls closer to cradle Eddie’s head. “Eddie, if you die I’ll kill you.” He wants to go home, he wants to cry, he wants to sleep for about three days and pretend this never happened. But he can’t. He has to be here for Eddie, as much as he wants to flee right now. “You’re not going to, you know that? I still owe you ice cream. And I’m gonna get you inside the arcade—“

“Fuck the arcade!”

Somehow, in all of the fuckery going on, Richie laughs. “That’s the spirit!” Eddie, in a scramble to back away from the startle of Pennywise running away, shifts into Richie’s lap. “Okay, Eddie, breathe.” Richie gulps down a breath himself. “I’m gonna snap your arm back into place.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, completely on fire, spitting poison at Richie. “Rich! Do not fucking touch me!”

Richie winces at the words but he hears Bev screaming, “Richie, his arm!” and uses the moment of yelling to just do it, to get Eddie’s arm back to a relatively normal shape, and then he’s screaming and it’s like he wants Richie to cry in front of everyone.

“Okay okay okay, it’s done. No more.” Richie, awkward and lost at what to do, brushes back sweaty hair from Eddie’s forehead, because he’s pretty sure the boy would hate how sticky everything had gotten, and if he could help even one thing, well, it’s something.

He wishes he could help carry Eddie home, sit with him in the hospital, anything to cheer him up.

But he doesn’t get the chance. Mrs. K is outside and snatches Eddie from the losers in the flash of an eye, talking like they broke his fucking arm or something.

That’s when it all goes downhill

Richie storms away from his stupid feud with Bill, the fucking dumbass who punched him in the face because he said he didn’t want a clown to kill him and his friends. He thinks it’s the most reasonable thing he’s ever said, objectively, but whatever. He doesn’t want to lose his friends. But in that moment, he doesn’t see many other options.

When he trudges back home after his third day alone at the arcade, following newly-formed muscle memory to avoid his uncle (close the door slowly, shift weight and run upstairs, wait at least twenty minutes to go back down for food in case he stirs), he notices another car. Immediately, Richie throws open the doors, calling out, “Mom!” and finds her in the kitchen, with his uncle.

“Hey sweetie, I just got home—“ she startles at the sight of him.

“Jeez, that bad?” he jokes, running a hand through his hair. “Just remember, mom, half of this is ‘cause of you.”

She approaches him quickly, summer blazer flowing behind her from the speed, and crouches down just slightly to be at eye-level. “Richie, honey, what did you do to your lip?” she asks. He doesn’t realize right away, but he tilts his head into her touch, and she strokes his cheek gently.

Richie had forgotten about the whole ordeal—his friends almost dying at the hands of a killer clown was pretty damn distracting from his low-life uncle—but now, he sets a spitting glare on the man leaning back and manspreading at their kitchen table.

“Uncle Alan had a few kind words to say over dinner the other night.”

Her tender touch to his face is lost when she whips around to face his uncle, and Richie feels like a little kid again, standing behind his mom and clutching at her coat while she takes care of everything.

“You hit him?” she says, her voice threatening in a low mumble, teeth clenched together. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You touched my kid?” She holds back a hand as though to shield Richie as she slams her other fist on the table.

“How do you know it wasn’t one of his faggy friends? Or maybe some other kid with common fucking sense?”

She leans down and takes him by the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare, Alan. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Uncle Alan yells back in her face, spit flying, and Richie would jump forward to defend her if she weren’t holding him back so protectively (with one hand!). “Listen, Maggie, if he’s gonna act like that, I’m just preparing him for the real world.”

“You absolute shit! You don’t get to make that decision!” Richie has never, ever seen his mother so angry. “You battered a twelve year old boy! What, do you feel really big now, you pathetic piece of shit? Get the fuck out of my house!” At this point, she’s shaken him and thrown him back against the chair so he falls, catching himself just in time as it cascades to the ground.

“Fuck you, Maggie!”

She follows him down the hall.

“Fuck you!” Richie calls out at his retreating back, before his mother screams about pressing charges and slams the door behind him.

Richie’s mom rushes back into the kitchen to face him. She’s red in the face, eyes on fire, but she softens at the sight of him.

“Richie, sweetheart, I’m sorry we left you.” She cradles his face again. “Hey.” She holds him with both hands. “Listen. If anyone ever hurts you, you call me. If anyone ever so much as threatens you, Rich - ”

Richie, choked up, interjects, “I didn’t know the number, mom. I don’t know where the little paper you wrote it on is, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay.” She looks at him for a few more moments, then swaddles him up in a big, mama bear hug. “I love you, kid. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too.”

For a few minutes, she just holds him, stroking his back while silent tears fall down his face and onto the chest of her shirt. She doesn’t seem to mind

It’s late. Richie doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s on top of the world.

He ends up at Eddie’s house, even though he knows they’re not talking and Eddie’s mom might kill him on sight, he has to see him. Mrs. K can go fuck herself.

Outside the boy’s bedroom window, he raps quietly with his knuckles, just about buzzing with a high, high feeling toward life. He can see Eddie lying in bed, struggling to prop up a book to read, lamplight cascading onto his skin - that is, until he hears Richie, and flies toward the window with a crazed look.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, brows knitting together. “My mom will kill you if she hears you.”

That doesn’t matter so much to him at that moment. “Eddie!” He swings his legs over the banister and jumps into the room, adrenaline and something like love pushing him to lift Eddie to his chest and spin. “Eds, my mom came home early and she kicked that motherfucker out of my house!”

Eddie’s eyes are crazed from the spinning and he clings to Richie’s shoulder with his good hand; and he grins, a giggle caught in his lips. “That’s great, Richie. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck him! And god Eddie, she - she protected me, and we just spent hours together, watching movies and making dinner like old times, and it was amazing, and - god, I know I sound like a dork, but I - ”

He pauses, mostly because he’s out of breath from machine-gunning a paragraph out of nowhere; but also because in his flustered state he didn’t register the sweet-cheeked smile that Eddie is currently melting him with.

But when he does, Richie thinks to himself: sure, blue eyes are great; they can be compared to the sky or the ocean or whatever other cheesy nature bit all goddamn day. But Eddie’s eyes - hell, he doesn’t care if he sounds like a cornball - they’re fucking amazing. They usurp all of that bullshit. He’s used to them when they’re blown wide in surprise, or holding him in a steely glare for some dumb joke, and he loves them then; but right now he catches a kind of tenderness hidden in the dark. Something that envelops him in warmth and pinks his cheeks.

Eddie takes the opportunity to pipe up. “Richie,” he says, “I’m really happy for you.”

He means it. Richie knows he means it, because for the last several days, he’s heard Eddie mumbling to himself somewhat privately about ‘that piece of shit,’ and right now he’s clutching Richie’s sleeve and smiling without a trace of mockery.

And he’s perfect.

His tousled hair that’s rustled from what looks to have been a constant stream of fingers, stressed over the book or his mom or god-knows-what; the oversized t-shirt he’s drowning in and short shorts and perfectly matched socks; and those shining eyes and friendly smile and soft fucking hands that hold all the electricity of Richie’s excitement - all perfect.

And Richie, Richie could just kiss him.

He doesn’t.

Mrs. K knocks at the door.

“Eddie bear, it’s time for your nighttime oils!”

Richie cracks a wise-ass smile. “Eddie bear, if I’d known you needed nighttime oils, well, I would have come prepared.”

“Get the fuck out,” Eddie says. The laughter catching on his lips tells another story.

Richie throws an utterly charming wink in his direction and crouches in the window, preparing to jump out and make his escape.

“Wait!” Eddie grabs the back of Richie’s t-shirt. “It’s cool that you stopped by. It’s - it’s been lonely in this hellhole. I might have gone insane if I thought you guys forgot about me.”

“Aw, I’d never forget you, cutie.” Richie, stomach twisting and turning, supports himself with his forearm on the outside of the window. “And, anyway, I gotta practice my Romeo somewhere, right?”

Eddie lets out a characteristic huff. “Whatever.”

It’s quiet, save for the distant tweeting crickets, and the scent wafting through the nighttime is intoxicating, and for the following moments the world reminds them to just breathe.

“You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

“I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I’ll see you, Tozier.”

Richie, without any reservations (until he thinks back on it later), reaches out as though to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but instead, runs his thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “See ya, Eds.” He smiles. “I’m gonna get you out of here someday.”

Eddie shakes his head as Richie takes his hand away from Eddie’s newly red cheeks and makes his way back to the ground, muttering, “My hero.”

And Richie looks back with a grin at the silhouette of the dork in the window, saluting before taking off

It sucks when Beverly leaves.

It’s an early morning, red and orange hues breaking across the skyline like a cracked egg, and Richie, Stan, and Ben all gather around to watch her disappear off to the nearest airport, and then disappear from them forever. Though it’s not nearly as mopey and depressing as it could have been, it’s hard to watch her go; a warm energy follows her as she hugs them all goodbye, looking at them with her all-knowing, crooked little smile, rolling her eyes but expressing more love than any of them had ever known, and Richie knows she means every word of loving and missing that she says. And he knows he’ll miss her more than anything.

He does. Not much helps with the pain of missing someone, but as the days go by, pieces of her slowly slip from his mind, until finally she’s all gone

New Years offers promises of ‘new me’s and resolutions and maybe some kind of peace. And considering everything, it’s the saving grace Richie thinks he needs.

A chance to forget his uncle, the murderous clown that haunts his dreams, and his personal revelation that he loves Eddie Kaspbrak.

It didn’t ruin their friendship by any means, just made his cheeks flush and heart throb and his rebuttals come back stutter-y when Eddie merely smiled at him. It was stupid textbook puppy love. He never thought he’d fall for that.

And, he’s not gay. He can’t be, or he’ll have to pay the price.

It's just that Eddie is his best friend. They’re all best friends, but Eddie never really stopped engaging with his exhausting jokes like the others, when it was finally too much. Eddie always bickered back, he took the bait and bit back. Eddie took him home when he got hurt and cared for him and then went right back to fighting.

He loves Eddie the way he should love someone like Bev.

But it’s nothing.

The night is cutting, crisp with a fresh wintery bitterness, biting at Richie’s nose until it’s practically bleeding. To be fair, he’d opted to only wear one of his lighter jackets and some gloves, so it’s his own fault that his scalp is freezing over and he’s shaking on his way to the loser’s little spot in the meadow.

At least his friends are smart.

Stan sports a matching tartan hat and scarf, bundled up around his face so only the pinkish tip of his nose is poking out; Bill has a nice puffy coat and a hat with a bauble rested atop his head; Ben’s ushanka hat is wrapped tightly under his chin, and he waves at Richie with mittens keeping his hands warm; Mike is representing a lot of fleece, and he grins at Richie, shaking his head when he sees his lack of winter clothes; and then there’s Eddie, wearing a coat that has to be at least an extra large, and a knitted cap, bundled up so only his fussy eyes and nose are squinting out at Richie.

In Richie’s defense, he was running late, and he had sprouted a little bit in the last few months, so his previously comfortable winter coat was now tight and painful in the shoulders and chest. This jacket was his best option in the 30-second long window he had to get dressed and run out the door to attempt to be on time.

Stan levels a look at him, thoroughly appreciating his idiocy, and obviously not pitying his shaking form more than a quick flash of sympathy in his eyes; he cares, but Richie obviously brought this upon himself. The ensuing cold would be his own fault, and he’d call Stan to complain, just to grin quietly as the boy went on the calmest rant about how stupid he is and then hang up. It’s just how they worked.

Richie wonders if he’d tell a potential partner that they should have brought a coat to a date if they complained of the temperature. It’s beside the point, but amusing.

“C’mon man, you didn’t think about a scarf at least?” Mike says as a greeting, laughing a little bit as he removes his own and wraps it messily around Richie’s neck. In that moment, Richie would give up his life for this kid. The body heat/fleece combo immediately brings him back from the brink of a nosebleed.

“Richie doesn’t think, period.” Stan sticks his hands in his pockets and stares at him, ghosts of amusement playing on his cheeks.

Richie flashes his teeth in a big ol’ grin. “That’s pretty accurate, actually, I just wanted to be with you guys on time so badly, you know.”

Bill lets out a small, unenthused, “Aww.”

Richie simply chuckles and tries to wrap his fingers in Mike’s scarf to help with the inevitable hypothermia. Eddie winds up next to him in their gathering, sucking in a big breath through his nostrils and huffing out shortly.

He bumps Eddie’s arm with his elbow and says, “What’s up with you, Eds?”

Eddie nearly topples over from the size of the coat weighing him down, and he curses under his breath before standing back up and glaring at Richie. “You really didn’t wear a bigger coat, dumbass?”

“As you can see, no,” Richie chuckles.

Eddie presses his tongue into his cheek. “Well, you can share mine. It’s more than big enough.”

Oh.

Right, sharing a coat. That’s fine. No pressure or anything.

Richie aims for a cool response, some funny voice or smooth and subtle, and lands on, “Yeah, cool. Thanks.”

So, they share. And it’s pretty great.

Eddie unzips it and pulls Richie in, and they collaborate to pull it up and then Richie is pressed up against Eddie’s side, in public, already sweating even though he’s still cold because he doesn’t know if he can handle this.

Fortunately, they’re hidden by the dark, so maybe the boy or their friends won’t notice his red cheeks (or they’ll chalk it up to the cold) and the extra focus he has to place on acting normal. Because Eddie smells nicer than most boys their age, and he’s got a heart too big for his body, and Richie’s sure that Eddie loves him back in at least some way. It’s not just anyone that would get to be this close, squeezed into a coat with him.

Richie feels sick.

But the fireworks are starting, and they might be sparse and lackluster in the hell that is Derry, but each loser looks to the sky with love, with appreciation, in awe of the fact that something beautiful can apparently come from hell.

Barely, just barely, Eddie’s head falls against Richie’s shoulder as they gaze up into the inky black sky illuminated by cakes of fireworks, and he whispers, “Wow,” under his breath right next to Richie’s ear, and now Richie’s contemplating between the two possible causes of his death: he combusts, or he stops breathing - to be determined.

Richie begs the universe for advice in the ultimate predicament. And to his great relief, memories seep back into his brain; those of freckled cheeks, teeth balancing a cig as a mouth talks, and bundles of ginger curls bouncing as her head turns in his direction.

“Bev would love this.”

Riche catches the way Ben looks over at him pretty much immediately - at them, sharing body heat in Eddie’s coat - and then how the boy stares at the ground and mumbles a soft, “Yeah.” He looks back at Richie, holds his eye contact for a sweet, lingering moment, then gazes back at the sky, hopefully thinking of love as much as Richie is.

Bill, Mike, and Stan all follow, tearing their eyes away briefly to make quick eye contact with each other, and then Richie, and Eddie even shifts to look up at him, and they all smile wistfully as though the girl is there with them, snarky remarks and toothy smiles keeping them all afloat. Richie feels like he’s going to break open and cry enough to fill the whole universe, so he sniffles and looks back up at the sky, breaking the moment of magic.

But it remains with them.

It remains as they share this together, as they enter the new year together, promising hope for a happier future as long as they stick with each other.

And it remains as Eddie Kaspbrak takes his hand under the coat and murmurs, “Happy new year, Richie.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #fanfiction #fluff #angst #sharing a bed #pining #new years #summer #mine #gosh i hope this isnt too dorky sfhdgjhsdfg

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the-wlw-cafe · 4 years

Text

Family Matters (Lena Luthor & Daughter!Reader)

Request: Lena’s daughter comes back from the future, but Lena is having trouble accepting that she is her daughter because of her own insecurities regarding family

Fandom: Supergirl

Warnings: /

Word Count: 2279 (holy moly this one got away from me)

Time travel, you come to realize quickly, is a painful and exhausting affair. Just imagine your body, your atoms, your thoughts, restrained by some kind of invisible force, being rendered still while years and a decade of time condensed to a single moment screech past you like a high-speed train through a tunnel. Colours burst behind your eyes and your ears ring with every sound at once, and you feel like you’re dying.

Then, as abruptly as it started, it stops. The noise breaks off so suddenly you wonder if you’ve gone deaf, but then, a familiar woman’s voice rings out: “You really shouldn’t be here!”

It didn’t work.

That’s the first thought that pops into your head. It didn’t work, it was all for nothing, and now you’re going to be in so much trouble. Also, you have the feeling you might faint very soon.

“Mom?” you ask, your voice trembling. You try to blink in the direction of the voice, but the afterimage of whatever it was you saw while traveling seems to have been burned into your retinas, leaving dark blots in your vision.

You hear steps, and the voice is closer this time and softer, the tone less alarmed. “Are you lost, sweetheart? Do you need me to find someone for you?”

“Mom, I’m sorry I used your –“

That’s as far as you get before your knees give out. You barely have time to brace yourself for the impact on the hard, cold, sterile tiles lining the floor. The pain never comes. Steady arms catch you before you reach the ground, holding you secure. You can hear her speak, ask you questions, but you can’t make sense of the words. You feel like you’ll vomit if you open your mouth. You feel her slowly, and gently placing you down on the ground, propping you up onto your side.

Time passes.

You think you can hear her talk again, the words fading in and out of dull static like a radio with a broken antenna: “I’m not hurt…they just appeared out of nowhere…might be concussed…Kara, they keep calling me mom…”

Later, you’re being picked up again, cradled in strong arms, and there’s the howling of wind in your ears. You know this feeling. Kara has taken you out for semi-secret flights more than once, even though your mom didn’t initially approve. Kara, you think, and instinctively burrow deeper into her arms. You’re safe. Mom’s here, Kara is here, and you’re safe.

Then there’s nothing for a long time.

When you wake up, you’re somewhere warm, soft and bright. You blink against the light and sit up cautiously. It doesn’t hurt. You’re still exhausted, you feel like your mind has run a marathon, but other than that you’re okay. As soon as you’ve managed to prop yourself up on your elbows, there’s a gentle but insistent hand on your shoulder pushing you back down.

“Take it easy there, kiddo.”

You grin at the woman, who you’ve instantly recognized as Aunt Alex, and your grin widens when you see the two people behind her: Kara, and your mom.

“I’m fine, Alex” you try to reassure her, only to watch her gape at you in utter confusion. Kara’s and mom’s expressions soon come to mirror hers.

“How do you know my name?” she asks, forehead crinkled.

Oh. So it did work. You really did travel back in time, back to when you weren’t even born yet. Now that you know, it seems obvious to you: They all seem younger, the bags under Kara’s eyes aren’t so deep, and the grey streaks in your mom’s hair are missing.

“Okay, don’t freak out, you guys”, you start, already knowing that they were going to freak out. “But my name is (Y/F/N) Luthor, and I’m from the future, and…” you turn to look at your mom, she’s gone even paler than she already is, and she’s shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

“…and you’re my mom.”

The news drops into the room like a grenade. You can see Kara hide a gasp behind a hand quickly clasped over her mouth; you can see Alex try and fail to school her expression in order to not let on just how surprised she is. But worst of all, you can see your mom’s face turn to stone, cold and unmoving. And it hurts, oh, does it hurt. You’ve never seen her look at you like this before, like you’re some alien thing she doesn’t even recognize. Whenever you’ve looked into her eyes you’ve found nothing but love there, even when you messed up bad, even when she was upset with you, but now…there’s just none of that there. It makes you shrink back into your bed.

“We’re going to have to ask you some more questions and probably do some testing, just to be on the safe side”, Alex tells you. You just nod. You feel so tired all of a sudden, so small and lost in a world that isn’t yours. You close your eyes again and hope this is all a bad dream.

It isn’t, of course. You sit through Aunt Ale- no, just Alex’s tests. They don’t find anything physically wrong with you, and the dizziness and nausea are abating slowly.

“Do you know how to get back?” Alex asks you, the worried crinkle between her brows not having left for a second while she was tending to you. You nod.

“The prototype has a safety net function. It pulls you back into your time automatically if you don’t return in three days. I heard mom…I heard Lena mention it when she showed off her time machine to Kara.”

“(Y/N), you can’t just mess with one of Lena’s inventions, especially if it’s just a prototype. You could get seriously hurt! What if the safety net doesn’t work and you become stuck here?”

“I won’t”, you reply, your voice sure and steady as stone. “Mo- Lena is too smart to forget to add the function. And I wasn’t just messing around with the time machine!” you add as you see Alex get ready to argue. “I have a mission.”

Alex looks aghast. “Who would send a child on a mission to the past?!” she exclaims.

“Myself! I have a message for Lena. It’s really important.”

“Oh, sweetheart”, Alex says in the tone adults reserve for telling children that their pet just died. “I don’t think Lena is…in the right headspace to talk to you.”

You swallow. You know it’s not fair to this Lena, you have no right to her time, but the way she can’t even stand to be in the same room with you…does this mean you were not wanted? Did she hate the idea of you and just force herself to stick around because you were her responsibility? You can feel tears burn in your eyes.

“It’s important though!” you hear yourself whining. You know how childish you must sound, and you cringe a t the thought.

Alex looks at you, contemplating. “Can I just pass the message on for you?”

You shake your head. “It’s personal.”

A deep sigh. Then: “I’ll bring you to her so you can deliver your important message, but I can’t guarantee she’ll want to listen, alright?”

“Thank you, Alex”, you say, fighting the urge to hug her. This is not your Aunt Alex, you have to remind yourself. “Can we pick up spring rolls and curry sauce from the Chinese place on 27th? They’re her favourite, and I think it should…exist already.”

“Okay, kiddo”, Alex says as you’re about to enter L-Corp. “If this goes poorly, I need you to know…Lena doesn’t hate you, and I know the Lena you know as your mom loves you very, very much. She’s just overwhelmed, and to be honest…I think she’s scared.”

“Of me?” you balk.

“Not of you, squirt. I think she’s scared of being a bad parent.”

“She’s not”, you insist.

“I know, kiddo, but our fears aren’t always rational.”

Security lets Alex through without raising a fuss, but you get a lot of curious looks. You wave at Jess at the reception desk before you realize that she doesn’t know you yet, and she’s never secretly passed you cookies when mom wasn’t looking yet.

Jess lets you through anyways. Lena greets Alex with a tired smile, and you try to remind yourself that she doesn’t hate you, she’s just scared, but it’s hard to believe it when you see that smile drop as soon as Lena lays eyes on you.

“Kiddo has something important to tell you”, Alex tells her, “we won’t take up much of your time, but…hear her out, okay? I’m just going to wait outside.”

You watch as Alex leaves the room, and nerves threaten to take you over again. It’s ridiculous, this is your own mom, you shouldn’t be nervous to talk to her!

“I brought you spring rolls”, is all you manage to say.

“I don’t eat fast food”, Lena answers, and her voice sounds practiced, almost robotic. She’s shuffling some documents around on her desk to avoid eye contact with you.

“That’s not true!” You flinch at the volume of your own voice. “You always eat fast food when Kara brings some by your office, and you also don’t complain during game night when all we have is pizza!”

Lena’s fingers stop fidgeting with the paperwork. There’s a moment of complete silence.

“You really are my daughter.” It’s not a question. It sounds like resignation. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m sorry that’s not what you wanted”, you whisper. Lena whips around so fast you freeze where you stand before you can even turn to leave.

“(Y/N), that’s not…I just…” Another pause. Lena pinches the bridge of her nose.

“The truth is, (Y/N)… I’m terrified.”

“Of me?”

She heaves a sigh, and finally turns to face you. She looks old, older than your mum, even without the grey streaks in her hair and crow’s feet around her eyes.

“Come sit on the sofa with me?”

She doesn’t need to ask twice, you immediately clamber onto the pristine white couch (so that’s what it looked like without the various crayon stains you had made when you were a toddler and your mom had given up on cleaning, opting instead to just cover them with decorative pillows). You’re sitting about as far from one another as is physically possible on this couch, but at least Lena’s acknowledging you, facing you. You’re getting somewhere.

“(Y/N), I don’t know what your mom told- what I will have told you about my parents, but the Luthors were terrible people, and even worse parents. I can’t remember any happy days under their roof, I can’t – I don’t think there was one moment where I wasn’t depressed, or terrified, or ashamed of my mistakes or myself while I was in their care and I’m just so scared that in the end, I turned out no different than they were because I don’t know anything else. And I’m so, so sorry if I was a bad mom to you, if I was ever neglectful or aloof, and you have every right to be mad at me –“

You scoot towards her and hug her. Of course you know who mom’s family are, even if she hadn’t told you, the rest of the world was sure not to let you forget, and even though you didn’t know any details you were aware of how terrible your mother’s childhood had been, so it’s important to you that your mom doesn’t for one second longer think that she’s anything like the people who abused her throughout her childhood and well into adulthood.

“I love you”, you murmur into the embrace. “And you’re nothing like them. You’ve always protected me and no matter how busy you were; you were always there for me when I needed you. And you tell me about your work and show me your newest inventions and you weren’t even angry with me when I spilt a glass of apple juice over your transistor!”

You hear her sniffle as she hugs you tight. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks next: “I was terrified that you’d come to tell me what a horrible parent I was, and how selfish it was of me to decide to have children.”

“You’re the best mom I could have hoped for”, you reassure her. But her words remind you that you are indeed here for a reason.

“Do you want to know why I’m really here?”

She lets go of you with a final squeeze, wiping tears off of her cheeks, carefully leaving her makeup intact.

“Of course. You’re not in trouble in the future, are you?” For the first time since you arrived in this time, she reminds you of your mom. You can’t help but smile widely at the sight.

“No, it’s nothing like that. The government is putting together a team to engineer a cure for cancer once and for all, but you weren’t on the team because you gave up on your cancer research years ago, but you looked so defeated when you talked about it… I just wanted to tell you not to give up, and that you’re going to do lots of great stuff in the future!”

“Cancer research, huh? With all that’s happened, I didn’t think it would be curing cancer I’d become most famous for. But I’m glad. Thank you, sweetheart.”

You beam at her, proudly.

“Can we eat spring rolls now?”

“We certainly can. I’ve actually never had these, where are they from?”

“Oh, you’re going to love them!”

#supergirl imagine #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x reader #supergirl fanfic #daughter reader #child reader #reader insert #i've been working on this bad boy for one month i'm not kidding #Im sorry if quality waxes and wanes throughout this like the tide

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