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starboyshoyo · 1 year

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Hold Me Close

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Deuce Spade, Ruggie Bucchi, Azul Ashengrotto

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

Physical affection headcanons with some of the NRC boys!

Riddle Rosehearts

The teacup tyrant isn’t the most experienced when it comes to physical affection, or even fondness in general. He probably hasn’t gotten a hug more than twice in his life. When you give him a taste of what love is supposed to be like, he’s hooked right away.

The first time you convinced Riddle to sit on the couch in his room together, he couldn’t believe how good it felt to be held. He has always considered cuddling to be a waste of time that could be used for studying. He had definitely collared couples he had found snuggling up in public as well, ranting about proper conduct in the hallways and inappropriate public displays of affection and whatnot. But now, he can understand those people who couldn’t wait a single second longer to have their lover in their arms. It takes a lot of self-control not to leap into yours every time he sees you. However, Riddle’s strict mindset can’t be unlearned overnight. It’s practically ingrained in him to worry about the opinions of others, and he won’t do anything to damage the pristine public image he’s built up for himself at NRC.

The most PDA you’ll get out of him is holding hands or linking arms in the hallway while he walks you to your next class, gentleman-style. If he’s feeling a bit bolder, then he’ll give you a chaste kiss on the back of the hand or forehead when saying goodbye. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be closer to you in public; he’s just too nervous to actually take initiative.

In private, Riddle still holds true to his stiff nature, but he’s much more mild. He doesn’t mind you hugging him tightly or cuddling into his side when the two of you are in a room alone. Normally, he will automatically assume the position of the ‘holder.’ He wants to be your protector and make you feel safe with him, like a traditional gentleman. He loves it when you hug him by looping your arms under his and placing your hands on his upper back. It reminds him of the position used for ballroom dancing, an elegant activity that he associates with fairy tales and true love- intimately close, yet still proper and pure.

The only time Riddle’s rational brain will shut off and his inhibitions disappear entirely is when Riddle is upset. After collaring someone in public, he’ll rush for privacy. When alone, his frustration tends to pour out in angry tears. He’ll immediately seek refuge in your arms when this happens. Please, just hold him close. Let him bury his face in your neck and cry his heart out. It’s quite sad to see, but crying helps him get his stress out in a healthier way than screaming at Ace and Deuce.

Finally, when Riddle is in a serious, committed relationship, he’d be willing to share a bed with you. It would take a long while to get to this point- he wants you guys to have discussed and laid out plans for a future together before even considering it. Sleeping is when he’s in his most vulnerable state- the fact that he trusts you enough to ask you to stay with him at night is a testament to how much he loves you.

A lot of time and effort would be spent in a relationship with Riddle, but in the end, you are the only one who gets to hold him at night. And seeing his relaxed face and peaceful breathing while he rests on your chest is all worth it.

Deuce Spade

In spite of the honors student act and tough-guy demeanor that Deuce tries to maintain, he is so very soft. No matter how much time passes, Deuce will never not get excited and flustered when you cuddle with him, even if it’s just a simple side-hug in the classroom after a lesson. He’ll sit up straight and stiffen, cheeks burning and lips pressed together in an effort not to let out a shrill squeak. If you kiss him, expect him to pull you in closer and hold your hands, gazing at you with wide eyes and telling you he loves you as if he’s confessing for the first time, all over again. It's enough to cause anyone around you to gag on the sweetness and sincerity that pours out of this boy.

Deuce is inexperienced in romance, and pretty shy when it comes to initiating things. He doesn’t want to come off as pushy or disrespectful, so for a while it might just be you who asks if you can hold hands. The more you show him that you want affection from him, the more confident he’ll get at initiating it himself. Slowly but surely your boyfriend will begin to brush his fingers shyly against yours, and lean in just a little closer when talking to you, hoping you’ll get the hint and just kiss him already.

If you ask for a hug, Deuce will say yes, no matter what. He spent years playing the part of a delinquent, and refusing the hugs his mother offered him at that time. It pains him to think of how much that must have hurt her, and he never wants you to feel that way. In a way, Deuce sees your affection almost like a second chance to do things the right way.

In public, Deuce wants to uphold the image of an honors student. That means no making out in the open. He will want to hold your hand, hug you, and spend moments snuggled up side by side on benches around campus, though. While a bit flustered that someone would want to be so close to him, he’s never embarrassed to be seen with you. He wants the world to know that you’re together. You love him! … You love him.

Deuce changes his levels of PDA depending on who’s around, and how comfortable he is with them. Deuce wants to earn the respect of his housewarden (and also doesn’t want a collar around his neck) so he’ll hold off on kissing in front of Riddle. He’ll still hold your hand gently, and Riddle will be able to see how hard Deuce is trying to be proper for you. He can’t fault him for that.

With Trey and Cater, expect a very shy but affectionate version of Deuce. While he won’t initiate anything on his own in front of them, Cater will probably make a comment that gives him the push he needs to give you the attention you’ve been waiting for. Trey is more subtle about it, but don’t be surprised if he ‘accidentally’ brings one less fork than needed for the treats he baked, so that you have to share one. He might even teasingly suggest that you feed Deuce, if he’s feeling mischievous.

Around the other first years, Deuce is a lot bolder when it comes to affection. Ace and Epel seem to enable him a bit, with their constant teasing, and besides, they already know how Deuce is as a person. There’s no pressure to act proper, so he’ll pull you in for lip kisses and be direct when holding your hand. If you point it out though, he might become shy again and push his face into your shoulder to hide the flush on his cheeks. Please don’t tease him, he just wants to love you.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie is a bit unconventional when it comes to contact. His main form of physical affection is play-fighting. It’s not unlike the courtship rituals of certain animals that will wrestle and chase each other around before pairing off. Ruggie will take the slightest bits of affection as an invitation to tackle you and roll you onto the couch or bed or even the grass. It turns into a tussle, with the both of you trying to pin the other and make them concede.

This usually ends in one of two ways- Number one is the normal outcome. You’ll roll around until one of you ends up sitting on the other’s back, with a few bruises to show for the effort. The loser has to buy lunch that day! (It really doesn’t matter who buys the food, you end up sharing all of it anyways.)

Number two is when Ruggie is feeling romantic and realizes that wow, your face is super close to his right now, and that he really, really loves you. Abruptly, the wrestling will stop and he’ll pull you closer to him, burying his face in your neck and giving you a gentle nip. When you yelp, he’ll giggle into the spot- shishishishi, I gotcha now. Even when drunk on love, Ruggie is playful.

When it comes to traditional PDA, Ruggie is as shameless with you as he is with his meals. Doesn’t matter if you’re in class, walking around campus, or straight up sitting on Leona’s bed. He will try to make out with you and no, he doesn’t care who sees. He wants the world to know that hey, he’s yours. You chose him and he chose you. There’s nothing they can do about it, so don’t even try! If you are uncomfortable with the level he goes to though, he will ease up and opt for cheek kisses or slinging his arm around your shoulder instead.

While not a form of physical contact, Ruggie loves it when you wear the few articles of clothing that are actually his and not Leona’s hand-me-downs. Things like his bandana scarf are precious to him because he worked hard to be able to call them his. So seeing you in them makes him feel like you’ve accepted him into your heart, truly and fully.

Azul Ashengrotto

In private, Azul has no problem giving you a gentle kiss or two or letting you sit on his lap and lean on his chest while he works out new ways to scam his customers. It makes him happy that you enjoy spending time with him even while doing mundane things. Time passes so much quicker when you’re around. However, when it comes to more intimate activities like makeout sessions, he cannot initiate one without dying inside a little bit. How is he supposed to ask for something like that with a straight face?

Please run your hands through his hair. He loves it and cannot get enough of it. In fact, Azul just loves being pampered in general. He always wants to be the little spoon when you share a bed or lay down together. Rub his back, tell him he’s handsome and shower him in kisses. He will eat it up like a starved man.

Azul is suave in public, and very good at hiding his emotions. But even he can’t hide how much he adores you. It doesn’t matter if you want to hug him around the waist in public or nuzzle into him- he can’t say no to you, nor does he want to. He’ll try to deflect the flustered look on his face and stay calm, but he just can’t when you’re so close to him.

Just like Riddle, Azul will have to be very comfortable with you before he trusts you enough to let you sleep in the same bed as him. Azul actually reverts back to his octopus body when he’s exhausted enough- and early on he’s terrified that you’ll be disgusted at his true form. He’ll go to great lengths to make sure you never see it- at least until you get serious. Then, he’ll tentatively reveal it to you. When you tell him he’s beautiful, he’ll bawl his eyes out and squeeze you tight enough to crack a rib. You’ll have sucker marks on your skin for a week after that.

Oh dear. The octopus escaped his pot again and now he’s clinging onto your leg. Once Azul gets his arms around you, he will not let go for anything. He’s desperate for sincere love and will milk your attention for as much as it’s worth. Indulge him for a bit- he needs the reassurance that you want him as much as he wants you.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #deuce x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto

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theshadowrealmitself · 1 year

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Today’s sad thoughts: A Peter Parker/Spiderman variation who’s run into a ton of alternate universe versions of themselves when they were young and barely starting out as Spidey

And because even tho they’re alt dimensions/universes and stuff, there’s still some things that stay the same, like being friends with Harry even if in most universes the friendship falls apart before they reconcile, being close with MJ and Gwen whether they end up dating or not, Aunt May getting to see them grow up till at least they’re in the middle of college, usually she lives longer than that though

So this Spidey has expectations for what their future looks like, both the good things and the bad things, they’ve Prepared™️, they got anti-goblin weapons and plans before Norman even becomes sick, they’ve prepared out how to divide up their time so they can be a good friend while balancing Spidey duties, they have plans for how to include their friends if they find out that they’re Spidey, etc etc etc

Except…a ton of those things don’t end up happening, like thankfully a ton of the worst stuff doesn’t happen, but neither does the good stuff

Poor old Aunt May who was heartbroken after Ben’s death holds out long enough to see them be accepted into universe on a full ride scholarship, and, knowing that they’ll be prepared for adulthood, she peacefully passes away in her sleep

They don’t ever have a falling out with Harry or MJ, but they also don’t have that incredibly close friendship/romance with them that other Spidey’s have, they never end up clicking with Gwen either so there’s no friendship/romance there either

Maybe they’re even prepared for the symbiotes, learning how to control their anger so that when the venom symbiote finds them, they can stand having it while they study it to find an alternative to it needing to eat people and maybe helping it find Brock under healthier circumstances, but instead their universe turns out more like the venom movies where the symbiote finds Brock immediately and it works out without needing Spidey at all

They never really become besties with the Human Torch, with Johnny off constantly fighting aliens and universe ending stuff while Spidey helps out the average civilian, they just don’t end up clicking and helping each other out

Maybe also they’re excited for Miles, hoping that their universe is one where they can mentor him but if not they made a ton of stuff to leave behind for him so the transition is easier, but he doesn’t exist, whether it’s yet or he’ll never exist in that universe, etc etc etc

Just,, A Spidey sitting in a base that they actually made so that they could have a hero group with their friends and leave it behind for Miles, full of possible hero suits for the people they know that are never going to be used, mourning possibilities that were never going to happen for them, and feeling ignored by their universe

#Spiderman #spider man #spider-man #peter parker #other characters mentioned #ships mentioned but did not happen

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blessedwithabadomen · 3 months

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in love with the mess - day zero

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff

length : 3.2k

tags : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81

a/n : hi everyone!! I hope you'll enjoy this, comments and reblogs and asks are always more than appreciated!!

•••

day zero

Time moved differently on tour. It always had, as long as I’d worked on them. Go away for a week and it’ll simultaneously feel like you only left home yesterday and as if you’ve been on the road for a month straight. 15 days didn’t seem too bad this time around. I’d done double that, triple that, easily. I basked in the feeling of how it fucked with time perception. Days flying by so fast I couldn’t quite grasp it, memories so fleeting and yet so fully anchored to my being. At the same time, in between, I already knew that I’d have days where this tour felt like a lifetime. Too many places in too little time, so many faces, different venues, different people, fans, the same setlists every night. And afterward, life wouldn’t be quite the same. Not this time around.

•••

“There she is!”

Oli’s voice was much too loud in the hotel lobby. Several people turned around, even if I wasn’t sure if it was because they recognised him or simply because they were questioning who was being so damn loud in this rather nice place. He crossed the room in long strides as I quickly gave the receptionist a nod while she handed over my room key.

He looked different than the last time I’d seen him in person, which, admittedly, had been… a while. There had been constant texting, a familiar voice in my ear whenever I needed it, video calls at any opportunity, all based on a friendship we’d both worked hard to grow over the last decade or so, but lately both of us had been busy on such opposing schedules that any in-person meetings got delayed and delayed again.

Whenever he was on the road, I was stuck at a job far away and when I was working on a different local tour, he was busy recording in a different country. It was why he made sure that now, when he was embarking on a massive arena tour with his band and I was miraculously free for all of January, he got me a job allowing me to tag along. It was so much more than I could ask for.

Still. It had been longer than I’d like to admit since the two of us had met in person and none of the pictures I’d been looking at or the video calls we’d been chatting through had done Oli Sykes any justice. He’d been hitting the gym, I knew that much, but the way he now filled out his frame had me giving him a once over as he approached. His hair was longer now, too. He looked healthier, I thought. Healthier and happier.

At least I wasn’t crushing on him anymore. I had spent a good few years with a special place in your heart reserved just for him, well aware that it had never been reciprocated. Nothing had ever happened, save a few harmless flirtations here and there. One of us had always been in a relationship, had someone else on their mind or simply enjoying their single life. It wasn’t like he’d be interested in me either way, I told yourself. And I was over all of that, even if both of us actually were available at the same time for once. It didn’t matter.

I greeted Oli with a smile as both of us immediately went for a hug. He’d always been a very touchy person, something that had been feeding my crush in the most unhealthy ways, but as someone who was also constantly in a state of touch starvation, I appreciated it either way. His arms held me tightly. I was convinced I could feel every individual muscle under my fingers as they traced his back and I just knew he was smiling into my hair as he rested his head on mine, his perfume engulfing me, and-

Yeah, fuck. I wasn’t over him. Like, at all.

I let go of him a little too abruptly, terrified he could feel the way my heart rate was speeding up, but he didn’t mention it. The weight of my realisation was hitting me hard.

I was going to have to spend the next two and a half weeks with him, as close as ever. And I was going to be crushing on him as much as ever. Great.

“Thank you for getting me on this tour,” I said anyway because truly, having someone basically fight to create a job for me just to make sure I could tag along and get paid for it out of pure friendship wasn’t something I was taking for granted. It wasn’t Oli’s fault my feelings weren’t under control.

“I’ll have you know that I missed three meetings to convince them that I needed a personal assistant to keep me on track.”

“Damn, so I’ll actually have to interact with you and make sure you are where you need to be at all times?” I joked.

“You also get to go on burger runs after the show. You’re basically my slave now.”

I decided to ignore the way his statement makes a shiver run down my spine. He didn’t need to know how far my services would extend, if he ever asked for it.

“Everyone in the tour group chat is making fun of me by the way. They’ve all very lovingly changed my contact name to ‘Oli’s slut’, so you’re not that far off.”

“Wait, there’s a groupchat I’m not part of?” Oli was halfway to pulling out his phone, apparently shocked at the idea that other people working this tour would connect without him being the centre of attention or even included at all, but he was interrupted.

The interruption came in the form of Noah Sebastian, tall, all smiles, and, somehow, even more beautiful in person than I’d gathered he would be from pictures and videos. One of his hands came to rest on Oli’s shoulder, making him look up with a bright smile, as the other reached out to me.

“Noah Sebastian,” he introduced himself, as if there was any chance I could possibly not be aware. “I sing in Bad Omens.”

“Hi! I’m Oli’s slut.” A brief pause. Panic as I gripped his hand tighter upon realising just which words had left my mouth. “No! Wait! Personal assistant! Oh my god. Aubrey. That’s my name.”

I couldn’t tell whose laughter was louder out of the two of them, but I was mortified. This was possibly the worst first impression I had ever made. And I’d made a lot of them.

“Where did you find her?” Noah laughed. “I like her already.”

Oli slung his arm around me, pressing my blushing face to his chest. I both wanted to burrow myself into the fabric of his hoodie and withdraw immediately before the heat in my cheeks got any worse.

“Oh, years ago, mate. She’s a keeper. A little socially inept though, obviously.”

“I fucking hate you,” I mumbled as I untangled myself from Oli. “I’m gonna go to my room and hide away until I’ve learned how to behave in public again.”

Grabbing my bag from off the floor and double checking that the key card I’d been handed hadn’t, somehow, vanished into the abyss, I turned to take the handle of my suitcase only to find it was already in Noah’s hand.

“I’m going to join you,” he said. I didn’t miss the way Oli raised his eyebrows. “In going upstairs, I mean, not going to your room. I’m… very jetlagged.”

“You two are a right pair,” Oli commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “This is going to be a great fucking tour.”

•••

“Is this the first tour you’re working on?”

I stopped at the door leading to my hotel room, Noah coming to a halt next to me and pushing my suitcase in my general direction. I was unreasonably nervous. Somehow, even though we were in a pretty public hallway in a pretty public hotel, no one else was around. I hadn’t counted on being alone with him so quickly, even if it was possibly the least conspicuous situation imaginable. Leaning back against the door, I fumbled with the keycard to keep my hands preoccupied.

“Oh no, I’ve done my fair share, actually. It’s how I met Oli, years ago, on one of the first jobs I ever had. I’ve mainly been doing merch or helping out as someone’s assistant, usually a tour manager’s. When he found out I was going to be free for this tour, he really wanted to get me on it, but they’d filled all positions already, so he convinced management that he needed a personal assistant. And here I am!”

“What’s that entail then? Your job? I might be in the business of hiring a personal assistant for myself, some time in the future.”

The way he was towering over me as he leaned against the wall, a smirk on his lips, eyes travelling over my face… was he flirting with me? I’d always been terrible at telling. Especially when it came to attractive people. There was a constant fear my interpretations could just be down to wishful thinking.

“Knowing Oli, it’s probably going to be a lot of running around to fetch him food and the most random assortments of items that he suddenly needs for no reason whatsoever. Other than that, I’m responsible for kicking his ass and keeping him on time for everything. I’m allowed to use physical force if necessary, he gave me that in writing. I’m definitely going to enjoy that part.”

“Sounds like Oli’s your slut, to be honest.”

If there had been any liquid anywhere near my mouth, I would have done a spit take. The implications of it, as well as the tone of his low voice muttering the word slut was enough to do me in. There wasn’t, though, so I simply gaped at Noah for a moment before erupting into laughter.

“You know, it really does. I’m going to remember that. Don’t tell him though. He likes to think he’s the dominant one in this situation.”

Noah pushed himself away from the wall, giving me another smile that sent shivers down my spine, before turning to walk away. “I can’t wait to see you put him in his place. I’m going to be watching.”

•••

The room was nicer than any I had ever been put in while working on a tour and, even more importantly, I wasn’t sharing it with anyone. I didn’t know what kind of strings Oli had pulled to make this happen, but I would thank him thoroughly for it. In any way he deemed acceptable.

I shook the thought from my head.

It didn’t work.

So, I did the only thing that made sense. I called my best friend.

“Lia, I’m in fucking trouble,” was the first thing I said to her. We’d never been too fond of greetings.

“Did you get arrested before tour even started again?” Her voice came through the phone, somewhere between accusatory and amused.

“That never happened! It was a case of mistaken identity and they let me go immediately. Anyway. No. My problem is that I want to fuck my boss.”

“And that’s news to you how?” she scoffed.

“Lia!”

“What! How is it any secret, or ever has been, that you want to bone Oli Sykes?”

I fell down onto my bed in defeat. It was extremely comfortable, which did ease my pain momentarily. I would get an amazing night’s sleep here.

“I thought I was over it,” I whined. “I thought I was going to be fine but he’s fit as fuck and I’m gonna have to spend every fucking day with him. Never mind Noah.”

“Noah? Okay, now you have my attention.”

“I didn’t have it before? Rude.”

“Less complaining, more talking about Noah please.”

“He’s fucking dreamy, I’ll tell you that. And a flirt. I think? I’ve yet to determine it for sure. And I’ve only seen him and Oli interact once but Oli looks at him like the sun shines from his arse so he’ll probably be around all the time, too.”

Lia didn’t say anything for a long, long moment. Long enough that I pulled the phone from my ear briefly just to check that the connection hadn’t dropped. When she finally spoke again, she sounded much more serious than I’d heard her in a while.

“Aubrey. I know I make fun of you a lot.” True. “And I know that I don’t always give the best advice.” Also true, sometimes painfully so. “But I love you and you need to listen to me for once, yeah? Have some fucking fun.”

I had to admit, that wasn’t the advice I thought I was going to hear.

“You have this weird thing about not allowing yourself to let loose and enjoy yourself but I’m giving you explicit permission. Do whatever feels right. Flirt with anyone who’s attractive to you and wants to flirt back. Make a move on Oli. Make a move on Noah. I don’t fucking care. But stop depriving yourself of happiness because you, for some unexplainable reason, think you don’t deserve it. Please, Aubrey. Have some fun on this tour. Okay?”

I was dumbstruck. For a while, I didn’t know what to say, but Lia stayed silent, waiting it out. Waiting until her words seeped into my brain. Started to make sense. And I knew. I knew she was right. I’d been focused on chasing after job opportunities, constantly trying to prove myself, travelling from one place to another, and never had I stopped and taken a moment to allow myself to really be happy. I hadn’t had a relationship since… I didn’t want to think about it. Hell, I hadn’t even touched anyone in forever. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten drunk, stayed out until sunlight, sang my heart out, let go.

And this tour… Oli had given me the job because he wanted to hang out with me. I didn’t have anything to prove. So I took a breath. And I told Lia a single word.

“Okay.”

•••

I was almost asleep, clad in a pair of shorts and an old shirt and covered under the blanket, when my phone chimed with the tell-tale jingle I’d assigned to Oli. He was my boss, after all. I felt like I should at least make an effort to make sure I’d notice his attempts to contact me, even if it only came in the form of a personalised ringtone.

Oli u up? Aubrey Is this a booty call Oli come over

I knew I didn't have a good enough reason to refuse. Double checking that I had noted down his room number, I grabbed my key card and phone and quickly padded down the hallway, thanking the lords that no one bumped into me. Oli opened the door the second I put my knuckles against it to knock. He didn't waste any time pulling me into the room and onto his bed by my hand.

“Wow, forward much? Normally I at least get dinner before jumping into bed with someone,” I joked.

“Love, I’ve taken you out for food so many times, you should get on your knees without me having to ask.”

I landed a good slap to the back of his head for his comment. It seemed better than to acknowledge the fact that I would, definitely, without question, get on my knees for him, and now my head was once again flooded with inappropriate images. Settling on the mattress next to him, I tried not to get too close to Oli, which shouldn’t have been a difficult feat on a double bed, but as soon as he had grabbed his laptop again, he shuffled so close that his thigh was touching mine.

“Can I show you some stuff?” he asked, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in my heart, as he was rapidly opening and closing tabs on his laptop. I simply nodded, waiting for him to continue. “I know you’re going to see most of it tomorrow, I made sure the sound tech people are cool with you staying at the sound desk if you want so you can get a good look at the whole show, but look, we did a whole video montage that’s going to play before the encore, and…”

Oli talked and talked and talked, about the show, about the planning of it all, about their rehearsals, showing me pictures and videos and blueprints and all I could do was sit and listen and fall in love with the sound of his voice a little bit more. He was catching me up on everything I could have possibly missed, letting me listen to everything he was expecting to happen in the next two weeks, and how he couldn’t believe I was actually there and part of it all.

“Having you and Noah here is the fucking best,” he grinned, somehow snuggling even closer into me. I let him, against my better judgement, as always.

“Someone’s a bit in love with him,” I teased.

“Everyone is a bit in love with him. You’ve met him. Prettiest dude on tour.”

“Apart from you.” It slipped out before I realised the thought was even in my brain, but Oli seemed delighted.

“You think I’m pretty?” He fluttered his eyelashes in a way that would have been purely obnoxious, usually, but all I could focus on was how fucking pretty he did indeed look. “You think I’m cute? You wanna kiss me? You wanna hold my hand?”

“Oh my god, I take it back,” I groaned, pushing him away and attempting to crawl out of his bed, but his arms grabbed onto my middle and pulled me back before I got anywhere at all. He seemed to anticipate me trying to fight his grip, because as soon as I made any further move, his fingers found the skin under my shirt and began tickling my stomach in relentless cruelty. Within seconds, I was reduced to a shouting, giggling mess, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I wriggled underneath him, to no avail.

“Please, please, Oli!” I gasped, breathlessly. “You’re- fuck, you’re the prettiest!”

His torment stopped immediately, but our position didn’t change. I was still trapped under his broad frame, his hands still on me, his hair almost tickling my face, he was that close. My breathing was going fast, trying to calm down after his attack, but his proximity didn’t help at all. For a moment, a long moment, we simply stared at each other, all fight leaving our bodies. Then, just as I wondered if anything was actually going to happen, he sat back up, busying himself with his laptop and fixing the blanket.

I almost missed it when he muttered, “For the record, I think you’re the prettiest, too.”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #oli sykes fic #oli sykes x reader #noah sebastian #oli sykes #in love with the mess

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ddarker-dreams · 10 months

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Calcified Cage.

Yan Bucciarati x F Reader x Yan Fugo.

A glimpse into a "bad end" from Scarlet Ribbons.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, implied power imbalance. Word count: 1.5k.

Pannacotta Fugo knew on an intrinsic level that nothing good was to come from this private meeting with Bucciarati.

For someone who prefers to make judgments on empirical merit, this odd bout of premonition felt uncharacteristic, further adding to his unease. For all intents and purposes, it shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. Bucciarati often consulted him in private over various Passione concerns.

In private, yes, but never in the total seclusion of his humble home along Napoli’s outskirts.

Fugo can count the number of times he’s been here on one hand. Normally, if Bruno needed to discuss an issue with Fugo, he’d ask him to stay behind after the gang finished eating their meal at Libeccio. The mixing of business and home life is considered taboo in this profession. Although Bucciarati is a bachelor who lives by himself, Fugo figured that he adhered to this unspoken virtue on principle alone.

When Fugo finishes reading the letter in his grasp, it’s no longer a mystery why his leader has taken these precautions. The paper trembles like a leaf in the wind, Fugo’s grasp on it weakening.

“You understand what this means, don’t you?”

Bucciarati’s voice sounds far away, despite his position a few feet across the table. Ringing resounds in Fugo’s ears, quiet at first, yet building in an all-consuming crescendo. The melody it weaves is melancholic at its core. A tragedy cast by the indifferent divine, thrusting him into the spotlight, where he stumbles through his lines as a lead character.

He has to tell himself to breathe.

Inhale.

For if what’s written crawls into reality—

Exhale.

—He’ll no longer have a reason to.

Fugo downs a glass of water his host generously had the forethought to provide. His fingers grip the rim tight enough that his knuckles nearly turn as white as his complexion.

“Are you asking for my legal counsel?” he manages to get out. There’s a rasp in his voice that he can’t hide, regardless of his best efforts. He can feel his collected mask melting from his face like wax on a candle. There won’t be any welding it back into place once it’s gone. It’ll require time to mold one in its predecessor's likeness — time he most certainly doesn’t have.

“No,” Bucciarati gives an answer he somehow already expected. “I want to hear your personal opinion.”

“My… personal opinion? Is that really necessary?”

“It is.”

It shouldn’t be. This is about as black and white as a dilemma can get. Trying to mix the colors on a palette to form gray would be impossible; a fool’s wish. The shades are so diametrically opposed that he’d sooner find success in combining oil and water.

His esophagus burns like he’d just drunk hard liquor instead of water.

“This is… good,” he fights back a wince at the wooden delivery, “For— for her, I mean.”

Something tells him that even if he had put on the performance of a lifetime, Bucciarati still wouldn’t have believed him.

“For her,” Bucciarati echoes dryly.

Fugo inwardly curses his clumsy word choice. There’s no point in concealing his cards, he may as well have just laid them all out for Bucciarati’s viewing pleasure. He loosens his tie. The quiet intensity radiating from Bucciarati is suffocating. He’s reminded then that while he greatly cares for and respects the man sitting across from him, Bruno Bucciarati is, at his core, a mobster.

And there’s nothing more dangerous than a mobster who feels his family is under threat.

You are, in essence, the heart of Bucciarati’s ragtag team.

This letter is proposing to transplant you into another body. An objectively healthier body.

To do without you would be to live as a dead man walking.

Fugo feels the phantom pain as if his chest cavity was being split in half by spectral hands. No anesthetic, no scalpel. Just raw, brutish force. Your nonsensical questions he pretends to find irritating are his veins. The blueberry pancakes dutifully arranged in a smiley face on his birthday, the arterioles; how you reach for his hand in crowded areas so as not to get lost, the capillaries.

You are snowball fights and hot cocoa in the winter, beach trips and shared gelato in the summer.

(“I can’t ever decide which flavor I want,” you’d lament, wilting all the while. It never took long for you to blossom again. “I know! Fugo, get this flavor, and I’ll get this one. That way I can try both!”

He’d sigh and pretend to consider it as if he hadn’t made up his mind the second you smiled at him. “Fine. I’d rather not hear you complaining if you ordered something you don’t like, so… just this once.”

“Just this once,” you repeated.

He’s never turned down your request in the times you’ve asked since).

Bucciarati leans back in his seat. He crosses his legs, folds his hands onto his lap, and smiles. Fugo is so put off by this shift in demeanor, the dissonance both perplexing and unsettling him. He sets the damning paper down for the temporary reprieve straightening it out provides. It points west, toward the window behind Bucciarati, where the sun’s final rays for the day crawl through.

“You love her,” Bucciarati says it as casually as one describing the weather.

Fugo’s entire body goes numb.

“... I do.”

“Do you love her enough to make her hate you?”

He’s been on the defensive throughout this entire interaction. He’ll allow himself one retort, one provocation.

“Do you?”

The softening of Bucciarati’s expression says it all.

“We shouldn’t be having this conversation if I didn’t.”

Right. Fugo isn’t sure if this is a conversation so much as it is an interview, his most pivotal test since joining Passione’s ranks. For once, he didn’t need to study. Passing with flying colors isn’t the issue. It’s deciphering the purposefully cryptic manner that Bucciarati has been conducting himself that poses an obstacle.

However, when he stares into Bucciarati’s resolute eyes, he thinks he might be starting to crack the code.

The promise he made to himself to reprise his role of an obsequious soldato is broken as easily as it was made.

“Forgive me for being blunt, Bucciarati,” he means it too, “But what exactly are you getting at here?”

“I won’t be able to conceal this for long.”

Nausea swirls inside him and bile claws its way up his throat. He swallows it down, despite how dry his mouth feels.

“The way I see it, we have two choices,” Bucciarati takes a deep breath. Pausing like this must mean he doesn’t savor the flavor of what he’ll say next. “Her happiness or ours.”

It’s debt that brought you into Passione and debt that’ll keep you here. Fugo considered how you were taken advantage of in such a desperate position truly unfortunate. Cruel, even. The offer of a loan that’d take considerable financial strain off your family. You didn’t know to look for jargon that’d increase the interest rate to something unholy, Passione was clever like that.

The worst mistake of your life is what led you to be the best thing in his — and so many others would attest the same.

However…

You are bright, but even the most radiant light is destined to flicker.

Living under the same roof as you for two years has taught Fugo much. He sees it, how you hesitate to take the phone when he tells you your parents are on the line. He hears the telling hitch in your voice when you spin another falsehood about why you can’t come home for the holidays again this year. He feels the wetness on your pillowcase when he goes into your room to retrieve a book you borrowed from him.

Your debt is what shackles you here and this letter is offering to break the chains.

You've successfully won over many key individuals during your tenure. The would-be benefactor who penned this letter — Signore Conti — had deep influences and even deeper pockets. His wife had taken a particular liking to you during a bodyguard assignment. She must've caught wind of your predicament somehow and beseeched her husband to intervene.

Fugo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "There's really no other way?"

"I'm open to suggestions, Fugo."

Questioning Bucciarati's resolve is just a weak attempt to stall for time. For Fugo to still be sitting here, even entertaining the possibility of snuffing out your future for the sake of maintaining his, he must've already made up his mind. The mere implication of Bucciarati's designs would've inspired righteous anger in most — not this internal weighing of pros and cons Fugo is neatly arranging on a scale.

"... We'll need to handle this delicately," Fugo says. His stomach feels like it's turning inside out. "We can't outright reject an offer like this from such an influential figure, it'd be considered an insult. Accept it on her behalf. Then... to ensure she can't go anywhere, I'll reach out to our contact in the bank and have her account frozen."

Bucciarati steeples his fingers. "It's a start."

That night, innumerable plans are formed, with you unknowingly starring as the centerpiece.

No matter how cruel, how unfair, it is silently agreed upon that you are their lifeblood, an organ essential to their survival.

And a heart cannot remain in place without the bones that make up its cage.

#bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #fugo x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba x reader #vento aureo x reader #part 5 x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #scarlet ribbons #my stuff

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is-the-19thcentury-man-okay · 6 months

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Help! Recently I had acquired a mid-19th century townsman who seemed fairly satisfied with his wardrobe. I did my best to provide him with only woolen attire for the health benefits and the darker colors preferred by most of his type. However, lately he has taken to brighter colors and patterns on waistcoats and insists they be made of silk. I fear he might actually be a dandy. That's more than I bargained for, given the expenses and behavioral changes. Is there any way to dissuade him gently?

I think the key phrase in your enquiry is right at the beginning: a mid-19th century man. Not only does he have a predilection for patterns and bright colours, but his longer hair and likely penchant for historical costumes makes him yearn for a bold wardrobe.

Not a dandy, just the average man of the 1850s.

But don't despair for your budget just yet! There are many ready-mades and new patterns suited even for humble mid-19th century means.

New illustrated pantaloons: only 70 francs in 1843!

"Townsman" or not, your petit bourgeoisie man is from an era of flashy clothing and accessories that even a working class or lower middle-class man can obtain. You might try to steer him away from the silk textiles at the best drapers (if he's that extravagant) and towards more economical tailors.

An illustration from The Natural History of the Gent (1847), by Albert Smith, an invaluable guide to this type of mid-19th century man who loves loud patterns and bijouterie. Note his huge tie pins in the caricature drawing.

Gent or not, your mid-19th century man is probably not an inveterate dandy, but he loves his colourful clothing and dressing gown at home. It's not difficult to accommodate his natural behaviour for a happier, healthier 19th century man.

#mid 19th century #is the 19th century man okay #asks #1840s #1850s #victorian #fashion #gents

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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Character: Grimmjow

Song: kill bill by SZA

Fic type:Drabble

Type of writing: smut

ooh this is an interesting one!! got you bestie!

cw: mentions of hardcore sex, cheating, black fem reader, m*rder and violence, biker grimmjow

“And how did that make you feel?”

if (y/n) had a penny for each time you’d heard the proverbial, cliche line recited to you, you’d be a wealthy woman. Living high on the haul and in a much healthier situation. Instead, here you were slouched in the confines of the leather couch seated at your shrink’s office. Shelling out two eighty per session to sit in a stranger’s face and lie to her..tell her you were healing and doing much better than the previous visit. But that was the furthest thing from. Your descent into madness was only spiraling further each time you came back..smiling through the painful emotions, grinning from ear to ear and laughing when all you wanted to do was scream to the top of your lungs. Crying yourself to sleep every single night and the culprit was ironically the one person who managed to hold your heart in their hands. Who had so much dominion over you despite not being in your life anymore. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez..the man who broke your heart without so much as a second thought. Left you for some other girl who couldn’t possibly compare to you in any facet..yet, he looked so fucking happy to have the bitch on his arm. Letting her cradle his waist as they rode away on his motorcycle..curled on his lap at the bar like some prize trophy. It was sick and insulting.

so it came as no surprise when he hit your line for one last hookup..you came running. Sneaking over to his place behind his girl’s back to blow yours out. “I just need to be sure that we’re done. One more time?” of course..anything for him. Anything to see the smile on that face. To hear him calling out your name as you rode his dick to kingdom come. Fastening his hands to the headboard and placing yours to the center of his barreling, chiseled..tattooed chest; fucking him slower and much better than his new bimbo could ever dream of. Bursting through his door with open arms and your legs curled around his waist whilst he bounced you up and down on his cock. From the kitchen, where he bent you over his countertop, choked you out and fed you deep, pressing strokes. Handling you the same way he had when he belonged to you. It was like absolute bliss. “God! Fuck, (y/n)…there’s no way I can quit you. We can’t be over..” you heard his declaration…too bad for him, his life was soon to be just that. Forfeit. At its end. Because while he was busy shoving his tongue down your throat and groping your breasts, he didn’t even noticed the giant knife stowed away behind your back. Not until you reached between his calves, grabbed it and raised it above his head. His eyes dilated past normal size and his breath hitching before questioning what you were doing. His very last words before he was unable to speak any longer. “It’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it?” Away you drove that blade into his flesh, hacking away at him as if he were nothing more than a piece of meat. With all the impending rage and swelling stress, you let it. You let him have it for all of the fucking turmoil he put you through…you wanted him to suffer! You didn’t stop until you knew for certain he had stopped breathing. It truly couldn’t be helped! This was all his doing and the inky reason it had gone this far was because of his actions. At least that’s what made you feel better. But your blind bloodlust was far from quenched and it’d only become worse when you heard footsteps and a high pitched voice growing closer…calling out to your Grim. snickering as you withdrew the blade from his skin, still lying atop his lifeless body, (y/n) turned in the most callous of manners towards the creaking door as it opened and greeted the poor, unsuspecting girl who entered. Flicking your tongue across the blade; blood spattered all over your brown skin, (y/n) coldly smirked… “..welcome home.”

#cherry’s songfic soirée #black fem reader #black reader #grimmjow smut #grimmjow x black reader #grimmjow x reader #bleach x black reader #grimmjow imagines #bleach grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #black reader smut #grimmjow headcanons #grimmjow bleach #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #anime #songfic

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gatheringbones · 11 months

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[“While “essential workers” in the poultry industry were made to feel dirty, nonessential workers in fields like finance and computer engineering—the “people with laptops”—were sheltering in place, more distant from what transpired in industrial slaughterhouses than ever before.

Thanks to FreshDirect and Instacart, consuming meat no longer even requires coming into contact with a deli butcher or grocery clerk. With a few taps on a keyboard or the swipe of a screen, consumers can get as much beef, pork, and chicken as they want delivered to their doors, without ever having to think about where it comes from. And yet, as the popularity of bestselling books like Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals attests, a lot of Americans do think about this. In recent years, more and more consumers have begun to carefully scrutinize the labels on the packages of the meat and poultry they buy. The ranks of such consumers have grown exponentially, paralleling the rise of the “good food” movement, which promotes healthier eating habits and reform of the industrial food system.

Although the movement is, in Pollan’s words, a “big, lumpy tent,” composed of a broad coalition of advocacy organizations and citizens’ groups that sometimes push for competing agendas, one of its aims is to persuade consumers to become more conscientious shoppers and eaters. Among those who put this idea into practice are so-called locavores, who buy food directly from local farms, ideally from small family-run enterprises that embrace organic, sustainable practices: ranchers who raise grass-fed cows that never set foot in industrial feedlots; farmers who sell eggs that come from free-range chickens reared on a diet of seeds, plants, and insects rather than genetically engineered corn and antibiotics.

Locavores engage in what social scientists call “virtuous consumption,” using their purchasing power to buy food that aligns with their values. The movement appeals to the growing number of Americans who want to feel more connected to the food they eat and to the people who raise it, with whom locavores can interact directly at farmers markets or through community-supported agriculture programs. It is a captivating vision, and the benefits of eating locally grown food—which is likely to be more nutritious, to come from more humanely treated animals, and to be better for the environment—are manifold.

But locavores have some blind spots of their own, most notably when it comes to the experiences of workers on small family farms. As the political scientist Margaret Gray discovered when she set about interviewing farm laborers in New York’s Hudson Valley, the vast majority of these workers are undocumented immigrants or guest workers who toil under abysmal conditions, often working sixty- to seventy-hour weeks for dismal pay. “We live in the shadows,” one worker told her. “They treat us like nothing,” said another. In her book Labor and the Locavore, Gray asked the butcher on a small farm why so few of his customers seemed to notice this.

“They don’t eat the workers,” the farmer told her.

“He went on to explain that, in his experience, his consumers’ primary concern is with what they put in their bodies,” Gray wrote, “and so the labor standards of farmworkers simply do not register as a priority.”]

eyal press, from dirty work: essential labor and the hidden toll of inequality in america, 2021

#eyal press #currently reading

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imaginesmai · 11 months

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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (5)

Yass I’ve got some good old feelings FOR YOU

Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: no longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.

Even though things did change, your room didn’t. No one came to move your things away, no one offered you another room. Aslaug disappeared as soon as Ragnar hugged you and you hadn’t seen or heard about her since. So you stayed in Ubbe’s chambers.

He hadn’t said anything either, and during the week previous to the hunting trip, you discovered he didn’t only feel guilty for the soldier, but also for you. For the first time, you could actually look like an engaged couple. Outside the bedroom, you had breakfast, lunch and dinner together in the great hall, walking shoulder to shoulder. There were no longer empty chairs besides you, nor bruises or scratches on him.

Seven mornings in a row, you woke up on your own, Ubbe long gone. You changed into appropriate clothes and left the room. During the morning, you had decided to make the garden yours, and even found a young girl who helped you with simple tasks. Daughter of a servant, you guessed she had been assigned as your shadow. But you didn’t complain, because she was nice and you weren’t lonely.

Seven afternoons, you had lunch with the royal family and all of his sons. Cordial conversation rose in the table, and even a few shared laughs. Both your father and Ragnar seemed to be getting healthier day by day, going as far as training together like old times. After that, you busied yourself with pointless, wife duties like knitting or having tea.

Seven evenings in a row, Ubbe waited for you outside the women’s room and walked with you for a while.

That was what surprised you most about what Ragnar had promised. You didn’t know if it was his doing or Ubbe’s, but either way, for the first time, you spent time with him that wasn’t an obligation or a prank. He still smelt like horse and sometimes like forest, and didn’t try to match his step with yours.

For seven days, you experience what you should had during sixteen years.

“Will you be going to the hunting raid?” you asked Ubbe the last evening, as you watched the sun disappear from the west tower. “It’s tomorrow”

“I don’t know yet. If my father leaves, I should stay”

“But it’s only a hunting raid. What can go wrong in the meantime?” you smiled at the sights, covering your eyes with your left hand. “Or are you afraid of not hitting anything?”

“If anything, of making everyone look like a fool and finishing before time”

Ubbe was glad because, even if things had changed, you could still banter with him. Small comments or observations that made him smile and look away, different from the ones you usually shared. That didn’t expect a formal answer from him.

He knew you had to take a decision, and a week ago, he took upon himself to help you take it. Ragnar didn’t need to talk to him, he was conscious enough of the situation – no matter how friendly the relationship was, what happened in the courtyard demanded retaliation. If it had happened in Wessex with any of the Ragnarsons, there would have been hell to pay.

But you had agreed to wait another week and Ubbe intended to show you that he could be nice, that there were more than monsters and empty shadows in his castle.

So, the first day, he waited for you to take a walk, and endured the awkward silence until the sun set. The second day was easier, and now, he wondered if he would miss those short and awkward walks once you were gone.

Because he knew that you would leave tomorrow, once the hunting raid was over. On good terms, hopefully, but with the marriage deal broken. He was glad he had been left out of that decision. Even though his answer would have been clear some years ago, now he wasn’t so sure.

You watched the sunset in silence, leaning against the tower’s edge, elbows touching.

“Ubbe!” someone called from below, and soon, Hvitserk appeared through the door. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Here. As every other day” the prince answered, turning around to look at his brother. “What do you need?”

“Father is preparing the horses for tomorrow. He was asking if you were coming. Everyone is”

Hvitserk didn’t look at you, and once you made sure he had no intention of acknowledging your presence, you turned back to the sky.

One of the things that hadn’t changed was the middle prince’s opinion about you. Growing up, he had been Ubbe’s shadow, so he mimicked his feelings for you. Since the incident and following events, he had been overly protective of the heir of the crown. There hadn’t been a single day where your walk hadn’t been interrupted by Hvitserk. He liked the idea of you leaving, but wasn’t fond of the time you shared with Ubbe.

There was no need to ask Ubbe about his horse. Or about his missing sword, a servant’s wage and Sigurd’s stomach ache. But still, he always found an excuse to appear.

“They can wait. I’m busy, Hvitserk” Ubbe said.

When he turned back to your original position, he was closer to you, now not only your shoulders but your arms touching. You held your breath, trying to remind yourself that next day you would be on your way home, with no annoying princes or a promised hand.

Hvitserk didn’t take the leave and leaned against the edge too, on Ubbe’s left side. You knew that any type of moment you could have shared that day was over, because he wouldn’t leave without his brother.

It wasn’t as if you enjoyed those walks, or as if you would admit it. They were nice because the conversation was far more interesting than with the women and servants, and what if you chose your best dresses? It was your last week there and you had right to use them.

You certainly didn’t enjoy the warmth in your chest or the tickles in your stomach. You only enjoyed the views.

Moving away from the edge, you were awfully aware of every inch of skin, through clothes, that touched Ubbe. Maybe it was him who kept you warm, or maybe it was the sudden breeze that summer nights always brought.

“I’ll be on my way. I still have some things to do before tomorrow”

“Let me walk you back” he turned around.

“Father won’t be too happy about it. She can find her way back, right, Y/N?” Hvitserk raised too, looking between you and Ubbe.

“Just – go check on the horses or whatever you need to do, don’t worry. See you at dinner?” you asked, ignoring Hvitserk. Ubbe ignored him too, smiling softly.

“Yes. I’ll you there”

Before you could think about staying or taking up on his offer, you walked down the stairs and out of sight.

The brothers were quiet as they heard your shoes hitting every step, each time farther. Then, the familiar voice of your assigned guard that accompanied you usually, and that always stayed a few steps behind Ubbe when you two walked.

The sun was down but there was still enough light so that Hvitserk could see his brother frowning at him. His relationship had had its ups and down, but since they were kids, they had been attached to the hip. Ubbe loved him like no other, and Hvitserk looked up at him in every aspect. As the years went by, they had each chosen their path – Ubbe of responsibility and Hvitserk of the free life.

Until a week ago, they had no secrets for each other.

But now Ubbe didn’t know what to think. He knew him well enough to notice Hvitserk wasn’t just happy that you left. As kids, he was the one who proposed the meanest pranks, who begged Ubbe to leave you out of the games. Ubbe didn’t think apathy or distrust was what he felt for you, at least not alone.

“Why do you always do this?” he confronted his brother. “We’ve spent weeks without talking. And now you need me every day?”

“Certainly, it’s not my fault that you spend every single second of the day with her”

“I don’t. We eat together and we take walks, but I train in the mornings. And I’m not with her in the afternoon” Ubbe reminded him. “I’m available almost at all times, but you only need me now. You’re going to tell me why you don’t want me to spend time with Y/N?”

His brother scoffed, and the confused look he was trying to keep up crumbled under annoyance. Indeed, he had had enough opportunities to talk to his brother that day, and his father hadn’t even asked for Ubbe, just the groom in the stables.

Crossing his arms, Hvitserk leaned against the edge, where you had been a moment ago.

“Because she’s Y/N. We don’t spend time with her, and you don’t watch sunsets from the west tower with her. Last time I checked, we hated her”

“I don’t hate her. No more than she hates me” Ubbe scoffed.

“Last week, you did”

“Yeah, well, last week was different. We owe them to be nice, she deserves it. She was attacked by our own soldiers”

“Taking walks doesn’t change anything. For all I care, she should have been the one with her head open. Arnold did what every one of us wanted to do. What someone should have done”

Taking walks didn’t solve anything, didn’t change the past, but Hvitserk’s words made his stomach turn. Arnold, the man Ubbe had killed cold-blooded, deserved what he got, because not only he had attacked someone defenseless, but showed no respect for the king’s decisions.

What bothered Ubbe the most was that it would have been a real possibility if he had been slower, if someone tripped you and you had hit your head on the floor. Not only guilt but anger flowered when his brother talked so freely, and he found gripping Hvitserk’s neckline and dragging him away from the edge.

Ubbe used his brother’s surprise to corner him against the opposite wall, next to the stairs from which you had disappeared shortly.

“Don’t say that again” he muttered, flaring his nostrils and tightening his grip. “A man who is capable of assaulting a woman is no worth the air he breathes”

“Ubbe, it’s Y/N”

“And you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves” Ubbe held his brother as he tried to move away. “No more insults, no more interruptions, nothing. You aren’t allowed to have an opinion about her. And that’s not an advice, brother, it’s an order from your future king”

Both brothers stared at each other, in silence.

The king’s card didn’t come up often, but it was a reality none of the Ragnarsons brothers talked about. Ubbe would be king. Because he was just a year older, he would be king when Ragnar died, and unless he died without an heir, neither of them would sit on the throne. Even if that wasn’t enough reasons, they all knew he was the best fit. People talked; the brothers heard.

Ragnar’s brother was in France, Sigurd had no fit as a warrior, and Hvitserk’s reputation preceded him.

Ubbe had to carry not only the weight of the crown and decisions he had to make, but also the possibility of one of his brothers trying to skip him to the throne.

Looking at his brother’s eyes, as sunlight disappeared and let place for the moon, he felt that possibility closer than ever.

“You know what I think, Ubbe?” Hvitserk whispered, dark shadows dancing in his eyes. “I think you’re willing to hold onto a burning nail to keep the throne. Father will be dead soon and you need a queen”

“That’s not true”

“I wouldn’t dare to talk about your queen in your presence, your majesty” he continued, hate seeping through his words. “Be careful. Anyone would think you’re already in love with her”

With those final words, Hvitserk pushed Ubbe back and disappeared through the stairs, leaving the prince behind with clenched teeth and a pained heart.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Don't You (Forget About Me)

prompt: after the gruesome events in the Upside Down, our heroes try to settle into "normal life" again; and Eddie confronts his mother to bargain for custody of his little brother.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: big brother!Eddie has me in a small chokehold right now. and repost because i'm back in the tags, bay-bay!

word count: 8.9k

warnings: AU where Eddie lives (as he should've but whatever), cursing, toxic family dynamics, abusive and destructive behavior, confrontation of a shitty fucking parent, mild violence, mild drug use, angst with comfort, not edited, reposted because Tumblr's lessening our beef [sorry to those who are seeing this again]. ✅ no spoilers

The mornings were the most peaceful. The sun was just breaching the horizon, birds chirping incessantly, and the sun's heat hasn't had a chance to really fry the Earth's surface yet. Summer provided many comforts; for one, the fact that there were hardly any responsibilities after graduation.

After you all had gone to war with Vecna and the Upside Down, Eddie was severely wounded, and it was a chore just to get him to a hospital; giving him a fighting chance. Naturally, the staff had heard rumors of the Munson Murderer, but their duty was to provide medical assistance to anyone in need - even a "serial killer".

The severity of his injuries left Eddie in a medically induced coma, and in that time, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or the FBI, released a press conference that cited "confounding evidence" that Edward Munson was not the Hawkins serial killer. They offered no other explanation other than to clear Eddie's name, and when he woke up, he was a free man.

There were months of rehab, physical therapy, and occupational therapy, but you were right there through it all. Your hand in his, tissues at the ready to wipe his tears, encouraging him to keep going, and of course, lying in bed with him, hand in his hair, reading The Hobbit out loud for the nights he needed soft comforting.

When he was released from the hospital, the government had offered a substantial amount of "hush money" that left both you and Eddie more than well-off, per the contingency of never speaking the truth of the Upside Down. It left financial room for you both to buy a small house with three bedrooms, a full basement, walkable attic, and a kitchen that made your heart stop.

It left money for you and Eddie to buy a rundown garage, and update it to the point of function for Eddie to work out of; and for you to think about your next move into college to prepare yourself to become a grade schoolteacher.

The master bedroom was yours and Eddie's room. It was possibly bigger than the entire floorspace of his trailer and Eddie was briefly confounded over what to even do with the space.

After Gate One left his trailer in shambles, there were only a few things he and his uncle were to salvage; more personal affects and memorabilia decorating your room. You wanted him to feel as if this was his home, too; so, you often took Eddie to the thrift store or Goodwill to do some extra shopping. Soon, your house felt more like a home.

The second bedroom was for Wayne. Located on the main landing, it was spacious for the aging man to settle in, and the money you and Eddie had meant he didn't need to work any longer. He still wanted to but didn't need to worry about the financial standpoint. Instead, Eddie pushed him into doing something Wayne's apparently always been interested by gardening. Yeah, so, Wayne Munson picked up a job at the local botanical nursery and honestly? He just looked brighter and healthier (and younger) doing a job he genuinely loved.

Occasionally, he'd help out in Munson's Garage, but he was much more content with his hands in dirt than in grease and oil.

The third room was up for discussion. Originally, it was to be a guest room for any party members that came to visit. But Eddie thought the basement was a better fit, so, you spent time renovating it to make it as cozy as possible. This meant the third bedroom was up for grabs, and Eddie had an idea for it.

As previously stated, mornings were peaceful, and that morning in particular started out earlier than normal. You felt Eddie tossing and turning all night; trying to settle him by cuddling close and letting him be the little spoon but the boy couldn't lay still. You eventually shuffled to your side of the bed in the hopes of even an hour's rest, leaving Eddie to stressful worry.

Cracking your eyes open, you noted the bedside alarm clock glaring red numbers at you: 4:54 am.

"Eddie," you groaned, turning over and sinking your head to his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat thumping erratically. "Please, baby, just try to relax. Still got another few hours."

"I can't, peaches, I'm trying..." he whispers, one arm moving around your waist tightly. "I'm sorry for waking you," he pecked your forehead gently.

You sighed, "You didn't. I could practically hear you overthinking." It was quiet for a beat, your voice clearing of sleep just a decimal, "You wanna talk about it, angel?"

The silent morning stretched around you, sun not yet peaking, and the wildlife just starting to wake up. Eddie sighed deeply and let his fingers dance across your bare ribs, "Just nervous."

"Understandably," You nodded against his skin, turning your head to peck his neck and then snuggle back into his vice embrace. "But we're not leaving for another few hours, baby, just try and get some rest. Hmm?"

"I can't stop thinking, peaches."

You nodded, "Wanna tell me what you're thinking about?"

The silence prolonged as you waited; gingerly letting your fingernail trace patterns over his tattooed chest. "What if... What if she says no?"

You knew this could be a very real possibility, but you both still had to try. Well, all three of you - since Wayne insisted on being in attendance. "Then we'll just keep showing her the facts, my love," you tried to assure, but truthfully, you were just as nervous as your hand slid up to caress his cheek and rest against his jaw. Eddie hadn't seen his mother in fucking years, nor his brother in the past 2, and he was going to ask her to relinquish custody of Teddy to him.

Now that Eddie was over 18, he prayed it shouldn't be much of an issue. And with your combined financials, you both decided you could afford to care for Teddy and get him out of Thelma's guardianship. If the stories were true, and based on both Eddie's and Wayne's recollections, they were, then the woman should see no issue in giving her youngest a chance at a better life.

However, you knew what drugs did to a person's mind. It warped your father's mind when you were growing up, and after meeting Eddie when you were 14, you realized that kind of behavior wasn't normal. So, when Eddie confessed in the hospital that he wanted to get Teddy out of Thelma's grasp, you easily agreed. You prayed there was time to show Teddy that life wasn't all about a drug-addicted parent you had to take care of - and who better to show the rambunctious youngin' the ropes of life than his equally rambunctious older brother?

Teddy was around the same age Eddie had been when Thelma first ran off, disappearing for years, before resurfacing with a new baby on her hip. She was in and out from that moment on, but Eddie made it a priority to see his little brother as often as he could.

When Thelma's addiction reached a new height, it was harder to see the child.

Now that everything with Vecna and the Upside Down had finally ended and Eddie was stronger, working out of the garage four days a week, he figured there was no better time than the present.

Eddie was unusually quiet, choosing to let his fingers drift over your bare skin as his thoughts became consuming. "All right," you sighed finally, sitting up in the new mattress you'd bought. "C'mon, baby, let's go."

"Go where?" he sighed, watching you stretch your arms above your head and trying not to flinch when your shoulders popped. You smiled when you turned to look back at him: shirtless, laid on bright, soft sheets, hair spread around him like a frizzy halo.

"To make breakfast," you encouraged, turning at the waist to lean down and peck his lips. "C'mon, cooking usually distracts you - let's go make Wayne a big ol' meal."

"Or we could lay here?"

"You've been laying here all night, angel, and it's not doing you any good. C'mon," you encouraged again, pressing a longer kiss to his lips, "it'll help pass the time. Maybe I'll let you smoke a joint in the kitchen, hmm?"

He smirked lightly, "Oh, pullin' all the stops out, are you? Never let me smoke in the house."

"Mhm, I know, I'm spoiling you," you teased with a small giggle. Your feet found purchase on the mattress as you stood above him, leaning down to seize his wrists and yank backward, groaning, "C'mooonnnn! Fuck, why're you so heavy!?"

It made Eddie chuckle before steeling his arms and yanking you down on top of him with a yelp. Your knees planted on either side of his hips, resting on his lap as his hands laid on your bare thighs. His smile was lazy and light, your hands smoothing up his chest before resting around his neck, so your chest was pressed to his.

"You know you're the best thing that's happened to me, right?" he asked quietly, letting his hands drag up to rest on your back.

The sentiment made your heart lighten, smiling at him, "Mhm, I do know. So long as you know you're my favorite thing in this life."

"Yeah, so you've mentioned," he teased lightly.

"It's gonna work out, angel," you spoke seriously. "Hear me? We're gonna work this all out."

He nodded slowly, "You're so sure."

"I have enough faith for us both," you spoke softly, stretching slightly to peck his lips again. You sighed and deflated against him; face pressed into his neck to inhale his scent. "My precious boy."

He chuckled, "Know I don't like that nickname."

"Yeah, but it makes you blush," you grinned devilishly, hand blindly raising to poke his cheek. "Are you gonna get up and have a nice morning with me, or do you wanna lay in bed, anxious, and overthinking everything?"

He groaned, "Why you gotta word it like that?"

"Because you're stubborn," you winked, lifting off him again. Eddie grunted from behind you as you turned for the closet, opening the doors to tug a soft robe on over your shoulders. As the belt was tied, Eddie's hands slid around your waist to press against your back; resting there for a moment as you lifted a hand back to pet over his cheek. "It's gonna be okay, baby, I promise," you whispered, other hand pressing against his arm around your waist to squeeze.

"Yeah," Eddie breathed, "so long as I've got you, I can't lose."

"Hm," you breathed, "you'll never be without me, baby."

"Yeah," he sighed, leaning in to kiss your neck. "All right," he whispered with a sigh, leaning back to let you tug your hair from under the tied-off robe that protected your negligee-clad body from the coolness of the morning. "You feelin' waffles or pancakes this morning?"

"Wayne likes French toast," you smiled, half-watching him tug a pair of black-and-red plaid pajama bottoms up and remaining shirtless.

"Always spoiling him," Eddie teased, grabbing an old Altoid tin that housed his joints and a metal Zippos lighter from the desk.

"Well, he raised my most favorite human," you hummed with a smile, both exiting the bedroom to head for the kitchen. "Least I can do is give the man whatever meals he wants."

Eddie chuckled and planted himself against the kitchen counter as you busied yourself getting everything together. Here's a well-kept Hawkins secret: Edward Munson was sinful in the kitchen. The years of neglect made him resourceful, and the boy knew his way around ingredients. He stopped cooking as much because Wayne worked nights, meaning there was no real reason to whip up any meals.

So, he resorted to take-out and drive thru's until he met you - and then his passion was reignited. So, he watched you pull ingredients out while getting the joint lit at the end; turning to unlock and open the kitchen window as you turned the fan on to help vent the smoke out. "All right, peaches," Eddie spoke softly, handing you the joint. "Step back a sec," he smiled, letting his hands press to your hips and tug you out of the way.

He helped push you up onto the counter before taking over the entire kitchen; radio switched on to play a few tunes in the background. You watched him move, scars from the fight in the Upside Down flexing from the strain of reaching for certain utensils. The heat in the kitchen crept higher but the cooling breeze from the open window and circulating fan blades helped keep things temperate, but the moment Eddie turned to you with a few bites of his scrambled eggs on fork prongs, you realized it wasn't the stove making you sweat.

Your legs opened a little more to let Eddie slot between them, leading the fork to your mouth as you took the bite and crossed your ankles behind his thighs. You hummed in appreciation, nodding as your eyes fluttered dramatically, "It's so good, baby, wow."

"Yeah?" he chuckled, watching you chew as he set the fork to the side. "Does it need more salt?"

"Hm, no," you assured, swallowing. "It's perfect."

"Liar." You perked a brow, him grinning, "I know you like more cheese on your eggs."

"Maybe we spend too much time together, you know me a little too well."

"'Cause I know how you like your eggs?"

"Mhm," you winked, letting your arms straighten to rest along his shoulders; hands tangling into the hair at the base of his neck. "You look like you're feeling better."

"Cooking helps," he whispered, sighing slightly as he leaned into you enough to make your arms bend. "What time do we have to leave?"

You glanced at the clock, bringing Eddie in closer to rest your cheek on his forehead. You sighed lightly, "In about an hour and a half."

Eddie whined lowly in his throat, allowing you to pull him all the closer to he was resting on your shoulder. Your hand rose to gently pet over the back of his head, soothing in your motions as he shifted on his feet to pull you over the counter; forcing you as close as possible. When you heard a muffled sniffle, your heart shattered.

"We've gotta get him back," Eddie whispered.

"We're not leaving unless Teddy's with us," you promised, pulling Eddie back to stare into his eyes. "Hear me? We're not giving up on him, and we're gonna get Teddy - he's gonna be safe with us, okay?"

You didn't know Wayne hesitated before the kitchen doorway, listening as Eddie sniffled again and agreed, "Yeah. Yeah, uh... Totally."

"Angel, this is all gonna work out, okay?"

"Okay."

"You don't sound convinced but that's okay," you assured softly with a knowing smile. "'Cause I got enough faith for us both, you hear me? So, you just... You just focus on what you're gonna say, and the rest is gonna be handled. You're not going at this alone, Eddie, you're with Wayne and I - and you know we're not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?" He nodded, more tears swelling. You whispered with your forehead resting on his, "She can't hurt you anymore, Eddie, and we're going to make sure she can't hurt Teddy either, okay?"

"Yeah," he wept, pulling away to wipe his tears with a feverous nod. "Okay, y-yeah."

"Okay, good," you chirped. "Now, I'm gonna set the table if you wanna wake Wayne up?"

"C-Can we just," Eddie paused, whispering, "can we just pause? For a second, just... Just you and me for one more minute?"

"Whatever you need, baby, I'll give to you," you whispered, pulling him in for a tight hug as your own emotion was clawing at your chest and throat. "We're gonna be okay. I promise..."

You knew Eddie hated that phrase because next to never did anyone ever keep their promises to him. But then you happened, and Eddie knew you'd rather break your back than ever not fulfill your promises; knowing that if you promised it'd be okay, then it would be okay.

Wayne cleared his throat after taking a few steps back; allowing the two young adults to get their emotions in check by the time he was entering the large kitchen. "Morning, all," he greeted, smiling lightly at you as Eddie had turned to start dishing everything from the stove. "How'd, uh... How'd you sleep, honey?"

You smiled, "Pretty okay. How was your night, Wayne?"

He nodded, glancing at Eddie's back before answering, "Uh, you know, long. Just couldn't sleep that well, real nervous."

You nodded in understanding, "Ed's pretty nervous, too."

"Yeah?" Wayne nodded, clapping his nephew on his shoulder. "It's gonna work out, son, I know it will."

"Yeah," Eddie whispered.

Breakfast was dished up and you three sat together, Wayne and you doing most of the talking to save Eddie from stuttering over his own words. His nerves were growing the longer time went, bouncing his knee and picking at his fingernails while you cleaned up the kitchen. When the time ticked closer, you encouraged everyone to get ready and with your hand wrapped around Eddie's, you fell into a rhythm in your room.

Eddie had all too easily tugged his pants off before jumping into a pair of black, ripped jeans; a simple black tee shirt tossed on over his torso. He laced up his trusted, white Reeboks before opening one of the windows and lighting another joint.

You watched him from your ensuite bathroom stressfully smoke. His knee bounced rapidly, and his eyes stared unblinkingly to the wall as his fingers trembled.

Once ready, you laced on your Converse before approaching his side; sliding your hand across his shoulder blades and all but basically pressing a button that opened him up. Eddie didn't even glance up at you, he just leaned back and opened his arms to let you sit across his lap and take the joint from his fingers.

"You know, this kills," you mentioned, pulling smoke into your lungs before exhaling through the opened window.

"We wouldn't be so lucky," he teased, sighing as his arm anchored around your waist. "It's time?"

"Yeah, but if you need another minute or two, that's okay, angel."

Eddie nodded and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your neck as you slumped against his chest. After taking another hit, you handed the roach back to him and just waited. With the added weight of your body, he couldn't shake his leg like he was; opting to cracking a few fingers before sighing, stubbing out the roach, and wrapping both arms around you.

"It's gonna work out, right?" he muttered.

"Course it is," you assured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You all three piled into your car; knowing the two men with you were far too distracted to genuinely focus on driving and while you loved them, and you trusted them with your life, but maybe not in this case. So, you drove, and Wayne rode shotgun after Eddie assured he should before taking the back seat.

He nervously fiddled with an old stuffie, a faded-green dragon that Eddie won for Teddy at a carnival. He had tears in his eyes as he gently pet the toy, trying to distract himself by staring at the passing landscape.

Thelma Munson had moved to a suburb outside of Indianapolis, marking this a bit of a car ride but for Wayne and Eddie, it was borderline torture. You tried to keep the music low, but it was obvious neither of the men could hear the words; both lost in their own minds and leaving you to go over what you knew in your mind.

Thelma was an aggressive drug addict and all three of you knew it wasn't going to be easy to get her to listen. You knew she didn't have a single bone in her body that loved her children more than she loved drugs and alcohol. You knew she was the cause of some burn marks on Eddie's skin. You knew she was part of the reason that Eddie's father, Gregory Munson, was incarcerated - yet never understood how she didn't go down with him.

You knew she abandoned Eddie at home for a full week when he was 10 until he found a way to climb up onto an old desk and find the phone number for his Uncle Wayne.

You knew Thelma never called or checked on him after that.

You knew that Eddie actually had a bit of a better relationship with his father, Greg, then he did with his mother. And the man was in prison, for God's sake! You knew he was arrested years ago, and months after that, Thelma was showing up again with Teddy in her arms. Nobody ever knew if Greg was the father, and you knew she'd never tell the full truth.

You knew it confused and hurt Eddie, and you knew you'd do anything to prevent him from suffering further.

By the time you pulled up to a more... Run-down trailer park, you could feel the tension in the car brew to a new height. There was debris in the yard; an old, broken-down Chevy left in the grass, yard looking like it hadn't been mowed in months. Beer cans littered the front porch, and much to your heartbreak, there was a blow-up kiddie pool to the side, sputtering hose leaking browned-water into the plastic, and a wild-haired 9-year-old child sitting in the middle of it, playing with a plastic dinosaur toy.

"Teddy," Eddie breathed in shock, the end of the summer heat forcing the child to seek refuge in the sludge water.

"Hang on," you halted him from running for his brother. "Hang on, baby, we've gotta do this cautiously. Look, why don't you two go talk to Thelma and I'll get Teddy cleaned up?"

Wayne nodded, slapping a hand to Eddie's shoulder, "C'mon, son. She's got this."

You nodded in encouragement to your boyfriend when his sad eyes met yours. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "We won't be long."

You nodded, "I'll get him dried off and then inside to change, okay?"

He nodded, breathing out, "Yeah... Yeah, um... W-Wayne and I can handle Thelma."

"Baby, do you want me to go instead?" You offered in worry. "I-I'm sure Wayne can grab Teddy, right?"

Wayne nodded, "Anything that works, we can do that."

"No, uh... No, it's okay, it might be better with Wayne and I at first," Eddie cleared his throat. "You'll tell him why we're here, right?"

You shared a look with Wayne, "I-Is that such a good idea?"

"Kid deserves to know," Wayne assured, nodding. "I didn't have to twist Thelma's arm for Eddie, but I'm not gonna leave Teddy here alone. He's coming with us," Wayne nodded at Eddie, who smiled with relief.

"Then I'll get him ready," you nodded, leaning in close to Eddie. "Hey," you hand tightened in his, "it's gonna be okay. Just remember we're doing this for Teddy, okay?"

"I know," he sighed.

"But if you feel the need to rip her a new one for what she did to you, we'd all understand," you tried to smile but the harsh gulp assured you he was thinking about it. "Do what you need to, baby."

He nodded, whispering, "Thanks, peaches."

Wayne nodded at you and steered Eddie towards the trailer's door. You took a deep breath and watched them knock, waiting a moment as the door wrenched open and revealed a thin woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Her eyes, the very same as Eddie's, widened in shock.

"Edward?" she asked.

"Hi, Thelma," Eddie nodded back, hands shoving into his front pockets. "Got a sec?"

"For you, my boy? Of course, yeah, yeah - " She choked herself when her eyes cut over to Wayne. "Hmm... Wayne."

"Thelma," he gruffly greeted, opening the screen door and letting Eddie pass into the 'home' first.

Shaking off your nerves, you ventured around the trailer towards the kiddie pool. "Hi, Teddy," you greeted gently, smiling at the little boy.

He gasped your name and shot out from the water, rocketing straight into your arms after catching himself from slipping in the muddy lawn. "You're here!" Teddy beamed up at you. "Mommy said she had a surprise for me for my birthday, but I thought..."

"Whatcha think, honey boy?" you smiled, lowering yourself into a squat; reaching over to a lone, overturned chair and pulling the towel off it.

"Well, I-I thought... I just thought she forgot, like usual," Teddy frowned, letting you dry his skin of murky water. "But now you're here and I know she didn't."

Your heart shattered, and you explained, "Well, um, actually, honey boy, I'm here with your Uncle Wayne and big brother."

"Eddie's here?" The kid's face glowed in excitement.

"Mhm, he's inside talking to your Mom."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't talk to her," Teddy frowned. "He doesn't like talking to her."

"No, but that's okay," you nodded, ruffling his stringy hair. "Because he's in there talking to your Mom, and wanna know what they're talking about?"

"What?"

"You coming to live with us," you nodded, blinking slowly. "Does that sound like something you'd like?"

"I-I'd get to come live with you and Eddie?"

"And Uncle Wayne, mhm," you nodded, booping the end of his nose.

"Wow," he grinned. "Sounds like a sleepover! Is it for my birthday?"

"Well, it'd be for longer than your birthday," you nodded. "It'd be permanent, buddy. You'd come live with me, Eddie, and Wayne; you wouldn't live here with your Mom anymore."

"But who would take care of Mommy?"

"Well, your Mommy's been really good at taking care of herself," you nodded.

"But she forgets to make dinner a lot," he argued.

Your heart split down the middle, "Do you cook?"

"Mhm."

"Well, if you come live with us, you wouldn't have to worry about that. Your big brother and I would take care of you."

"But Mommy would be alone."

"Is she alone now?"

"No," Teddy frowned, toeing the mud beneath us. "S-She has friends that come over a lot..."

"Are they nice friends?"

"No," he admitted, "they like to yell at me... Sometimes they lock me out."

"They lock you out?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded again.

"And you sleep out here?"

"Uh-huh, Mommy says it's okay. She says it's like camping."

"So, you cook for Mommy, and she lets your friends lock you out?"

"Yeah, but not always," he nodded. "Sometimes they let me sleep in Mommy's room, but I can't get out."

"Oh, sweetheart," you sighed, finishing drying him off and wrapping the towel around him tightly. "Well, I'll tell you that if you don't wanna go, we can't force you, but we're here to take you home, buddy. I understand not wanting to leave your Mommy, but if you want to, you can come with us."

"But where would Mommy go?"

"I don't know, baby, but she's more than welcome to come visit," you assured. "Your big brother just wants to make sure you're safe and taken care of. You're way too young to take care of yourself and your Mommy."

"So... I could really come live with you?"

"And see your brother every single day," you smiled. "Wanna go see him now?"

"Yeah," Teddy grinned, keeping the towel bundled around him to take your hand. You lead him inside the trailer slowly, looking around cautiously as you noted the defensive positions taken.

Wayne was in the kitchen, glaring at the woman who was standing in front of her eldest son, who's head was bowed from his seat on the couch.

"EDDIE!" Teddy beamed, rushing forward as his towel dropped and sending himself into Eddie's chest.

"Woah!" Eddie grunted when the boy launched into his arms. He chuckled, a genuine smile on his lips, "Hey, buddy! Man! You've gotten so big! Look at you!"

"I grew!"

"I can see!" Eddie chuckled, pulling back and looking at Teddy. His eyes scanned over the skinny arms and legs, heart plummeting to his feet. "Not growin' anywhere else, are you?" He frowned.

"He's fine," Thelma snapped in anger.

"He's malnourished!" Eddie snapped back, glaring up at her. "I thought with me, it was a fluke, and you just weren't ready. But with him? It's a fucking pattern, Thelma!"

"Hey, hey," you tried to step in, Teddy turning to grip your legs in fear of the elevated voices. "Let's not do this in front of him - "

"Oh, and this is your little bitch you want to mother my son instead!?" Thelma roared, gesturing at you as you pulled the boy closer.

Eddie shot up from his seat, "Don't you dare say a word about her!"

"She's a child - like you are, Edward! Neither of you can take care of another child!"

"Yeah? Think we'd do a helluva lot better job than you!" Eddie argued.

"C'mon, kid," Wayne muttered, trying to direct you from the trailer.

"No, hang on, take Teddy," you turned to push the kid into Wayne's embrace. "We'll pack for him, just stay out there."

"You're not taking my kid!" Thelma raged when Wayne stepped out of the trailer.

"You're not keeping him!" Eddie snapped. "You've run out of time, Thelma, it's done! You never wanted to be a mother but couldn't keep out of trouble, and you know who suffered? I did! I suffered for your mistakes, and your incompetence!"

"I'm doing better with Teddy!"

You scoffed, earning the attention, repeating, "Better? I can literally see a heroin needle from here."

"What?" Eddie paled, looking at you in shock - and suddenly, you wish you never said something. "Where? Peaches, where?" You gulped and pointed to the end table across the room, Eddie charging up to it and spilling contents to the ground as his shaking hands tried to grab the needle. Thelma rushed after him, pounding on his back as Eddie revealed a syringe in his hand. You shifted nervously as Eddie turned his murderous gaze to the woman behind him, who was stumbling back a few steps.

A moment later, he was pulling a little baggie of dark brown powder from a metal tin and letting his tears fall.

"Eddie, i-it's not what - I swear it's not what it looks like!"

"No, hey," you snapped, stepping forward and preventing the woman from approaching Eddie again, "you're close enough, back the hell off."

"You little bitch - "

"You're using again?" Eddie asked rhetorically, turning with the evidence in his hands. His eyes were red and full of tears, but they weren't falling - not over her, anymore. "You're putting him through what you put me through?"

"It's not as bad - "

"Is that why you lock him out of his own home, so you can get high with your other junkie friends?" You sneered, cocking your head.

"This is family business - you're not - "

"She's more family than you ever were," Eddie snapped. "You don't get to talk to her that way - she's gonna be my wife, and you don't have the right!" He glared for a second longer before sighing and looking at you, "Now, peaches, what're you talking about?"

"Teddy told me," you spoke to the woman, aware of the man behind you, "that you have friends come over, and he's locked outside all night."

"I didn't know - "

"Really? Lie again, and we're not hesitating to call the police," you sneered. "Your son told me you're fine with it since it's like camping - or at least, that's what you tell him. But what do you tell him when he's locked in your bedroom? When he can't get out? Do you tell him why you forget his birthdays?"

"Wait - wait - wait. You lock him up? In a room?" Eddie seethed, dropping the needle and baggie to the table.

"He cooks for her, too," you added on, ignoring the pathetic crocodile tears that fell from her red-rimmed, sunken eyes. "I can't imagine what else we'll find out when we have longer than 5 minutes to talk."

Eddie took a sobering breath before speaking scarily calmly, "I'm gonna take my girl, and we're gonna pack up Teddy's room. You can go say goodbye, but only with Wayne there. We can work out a visitation schedule, but you're done here. You hear me? You're done. I'm leaving with my little brother, and if you try to stop us, we will be calling the police - and should you need the extra threat, we're friends with the Chief of Police of Hawkins and he'll make sure you're put away. Do I make myself clear?"

Thelma let the tears dry and just glared, nodding slowly, "Think you're a man now, huh? Just like your Daddy - thinkin' too big for your britches."

"As far as I'm concerned, it was you who taught me my most valuable life lesson," Eddie nodded, letting his hand rest around your waist. "That you never abandon family - you come back for them."

"So, this is how you wanna end things?" Thelma sneered. "This is how you wanna do it? Gonna take my boy and run? Like your Daddy always did? Always running?"

"Yeah," Eddie refused to entertain her anymore. "This is how I want it to end. You're welcome to visit Teddy, but you better call first; because other than him, there's no reason for any of us to interact." A quiet moment, then Eddie spoke softer, "Peaches, you mind telling Wayne the update?"

"Yeah," you nodded at him, glancing nervously between him and his mother. "S-Should I grab Teddy something to change into?"

"No, it's okay," he assured, rubbing your waist subtly, "we'll take him to a real pool, with clean water." You nodded in agreement, pulling away slowly because you weren't sure about leaving him alone. He picked up on your hesitance, assuring, "'S all right, peaches, just come back when you're done."

You didn't want to, but you turned for the front door and pushed out of it. Wayne and Teddy were waiting by the car, the boy sat on the hood as his uncle showed him a card trick.

"Hey," you smiled at the pair as you approached. "Um, Eddie's just wrapping things up, but then your Mommy's gonna come out and say goodbye, okay?" You nodded at Teddy. "Eddie and I are gonna pack some of your things up."

"Mommy's letting me leave?"

You gulped, "Yeah, buddy, she just wants you to have a better chance. But how about, when we get back, we go for a real swim - hm?"

"Okay," Teddy beamed.

"Hang tight, buddy, for just one second," you held a finger up to the boy and patted Wayne's shoulder; stepping away a few feet.

"What's really going on?" Wayne muttered.

"Eddie and I found some drugs, so, she's using again. Eddie didn't give her a choice, told her we're taking Teddy and if she wants to visit, she can - but she has to call first."

Wayne nodded sadly, "He's had to grow up too much."

"He's handling it as well as he can," you sighed. "But he doesn't want her and Teddy alone, so, when she comes out to say goodbye, don't leave them alone, okay?"

"I'm on it, honey," he assured, nodding at you.

After thanking Wayne and ruffling Teddy's hair, you made for the trailer again. But you wished you hadn't left them at all, as Eddie was pressed painfully against the kitchen counter, both hands restraining his mother's wrists.

Your eyes caught the flash of a blade and you lunged, wrapping your arms around the woman and yanking her to the floor. You yelped when the blade caught the skin of your forearm, dropping the woman's weight and stumbling back a step.

"Shit," you hissed, pressing your hand to the wound, and hating the feeling of blood bubbling under your fingers.

"Holy fuck," Eddie seethed, grabbing a tea towel, and wrapping it around the wound. "Oh, my God, are you okay? Shit, baby, no, I'm so sorry - th-this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," you assured, shooting a glare at the woman still on the floor; knife pushed away from her. "Better me than you, right? Was she - Jesus Christ, was she trying to stab you?"

"Think so," he breathed, pulling you to his chest. "She's angry."

"No excuse," you snapped, glaring at the woman. "Gonna fuck off and let us work now?"

"I'm not letting you take my son," she sneered, pathetically sprawled on the dirty linoleum floor. "You took Eddie - fine! You can keep him! But you're not taking Theodore!"

"Teddy's obviously not safe here!"

"Hang on," Eddie muttered, reaching for the wall phone. He silently punched in a number you knew well, hearing his mother's breathing pick up.

"W-Who is he calling!?"

But nobody answered as Eddie was listening to the dial tone, and then, "Hi, Mary. Is Chief Hopper in? It's, uh, it's Eddie Munson... Yes, ma'am, yeah, stayin' outta trouble, but this was kinda unavoidable. Is he in? Yeah... Mhm... Okay, thanks, yeah, I'll wait." Thelma's eyes widened as she realized who Eddie was speaking to, and a moment later, he was continuing, "Hey, Jim, sorry for calling out of the blue. But uh... We've got a bit of a situation here."

You listened to him explain the rescue mission gone wrong; how drugs were found, and how his mother attacked you with a knife after trying to stab him. Hopper assured he'd be there soon, and Eddie hung up.

"Hopper's gonna be here soon, so, why don't we all just wait for him, hmm?" He offered Thelma, pulling you back into his embrace.

It took several long minutes to push Thelma out of the door, but even then, she just glared at you three surrounding Teddy at the car. When Hopper pulled up, she refused to utter a single word. Hopper checked out your arm and made sure Eddie was okay, before turning to the strung-out woman.

It was incredible the way the cop car sent all trailer park residents scattering into their homes; curtains pulled back to peer out of dingy windows as Jim Hopper menacingly stared Thelma Munson down.

She eventually caved and let you and Eddie into her home to pack up Teddy's room. And Eddie cried while you both worked because the boy barely had anything; just two duffels worth of clothes and shoes and a backpack full of school supplies, and memorabilia.

Outside, Thelma outright refused to look at anyone. Her arms were crossed as Hopper wrapped your forearm and made sure everyone was okay before getting in his car. He waited for you guys as Teddy was sobbing for him Mommy - begging her to look at him - to hug him - to say goodbye.

But she refused to move. Refused to look at him.

"C'mon, buddy, it's okay," Eddie sighed, stooping low to pull his brother into his arms and stand. "It's okay, it's okay... She didn't say goodbye to me either. It's okay, I got you. Hey, I'm here now, I got you. Never leaving, buddy, I'm here for you."

Hopper led you all back home to Hawkins; Wayne driving your car as you took the passenger seat, listening to Eddie comfort his brother in the backseat. The child was a wreck, confused and hurt by his own mother, gasping for breath before thanking Eddie for "coming back and rescuing" him.

Wayne wiped a few subtle tears and when you got home, you left the Munson's to get Teddy settled as you made a phone call. When Teddy was unpacked (which took all of 30 minutes), the three slowly trickled out to finish giving Teddy a tour of the house.

The poor boy was in one of Eddie's tee shirts to combat the cold, but you grinned at them when they filtered into the kitchen.

"Uh oh," Eddie teased, nudging his brother, "she's got that look, bud. Think we're in for it now."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Well, I was just thinking, we promised Teddy a dip in a real pool."

His eyes lit up, "You have a pool!?"

"Not here, honey, but I know someone," you grinned. "Wanna go?"

"Can we?" Teddy looked up at Eddie for permission, who nodded in return.

"Sure, buddy, I'll grab you a towel. Go ahead," he nodded, nudging his brother towards you. "Wayne?"

"Oh, I'd love to, kids, but uh, I'm a little tired. Think I'll just sit this one out, if that's okay."

"Course it's okay," you nodded. "We won't be long; we'll be home for dinner."

Wayne nodded and pet over Teddy's hair - telling him to be kind and respectful for you and Eddie before turning for his room. Eddie jogged out of the basement, three towels in his arms, smiling at you both. "We ready?"

"Are you gonna swim, too?" Teddy worried slightly, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we are, bud," you beamed, patting the tote bag on your shoulder. "Got our suits in here."

"Wait, we're all going swimming?" Eddie asked cautiously.

"Mhm," you smiled.

Eddie offered a confused look as you ushered the boys back to your car. On the drive, you peaked back to spy Teddy fiddling with the same faded-green dragon stuffie Eddie had given him earlier; petting over the head carefully as he looked concentrated on keeping his emotion in check.

When you pulled up to your destination, you turned in your seat, "You okay, honey?"

Eddie turned too, spying his brother's frown and feeling panic swell in his chest. "Hey, what's going on? Thought you loved swimming?"

"I do," he nodded, blinking rapidly before timidly meeting your eyes. "I-Is Mommy gonna be okay without me? Is she...? Is she mad at me?"

Eddie sighed deeply, "No, buddy, she's not mad at you. She just thought you'd be happier, and healthier, staying with us. She's gonna take care of herself, I promise."

"But she..." The little boy started to weep, "She didn't say bye!"

"Shit," Eddie muttered, quickly yanking the safety belt from around him before climbing over your center console to get in the backseat. You frowned when he plopped down, and Teddy was instantly crawling into his lap and holding onto his shirt with desperate fists.

You quietly removed yourself from the car to leave them some privacy, grabbing your bag and leaning on the hood of the car. No more than 10 minutes later, the door was opening again, and Eddie was helping Teddy out.

You smiled at the pair and watched Eddie keep his hand around Teddy's shoulders as you approached the front door of the home you were parked out front of.

"Hey!" Steve Harrington beamed when he opened the door. "You made it - everyone's out back. C'mon," he smiled, catching sight of Teddy, and pausing. "Oh, hello," he slowly lowered himself into a squat, "what's your name?"

Teddy shyly turned his face into Eddie's thigh, looking up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nodded, "It's okay, buddy, he's a friend of ours."

He nodded slowly, glancing at Steve, "I-I'm Teddy."

"Teddy?" Steve repeated with a softer smile, the child nodding. "It's very nice to meet you, my name's Steve. I hear you really like swimming. And dinosaurs."

"I do," he nodded. "My big brother calls me a fish."

"He's always in water," Eddie smiled, rubbing Teddy's back comfortingly.

"Well, Teddy, would you like to come take a swim in the pool?"

"You have a pool?" Teddy gasped, looking at you and Eddie with shock and awe.

"Yeah!" Steve grinned. "Wanna check it out with me?"

"Yeah! Uh-huh!" Teddy nodded, pulling away from Eddie's leg a bit before pausing. "Um, Eddie?" He looked up, "C-Can I go?"

"Yeah, bud, we're right behind you. We're just gonna change really quick."

"Stick by Steve until we're back, okay?" You nodded, watching the little boy nod rapidly before reaching for Steve's hand.

"All right, let's go, buddy," Steve smiled, letting the little boy take his hand before dropping a wink at you and Eddie. "You know where the bathrooms are, right?"

"Yeah, we'll be right out," you assured, leading Eddie into Steve's house. Teddy was gawking at everything, completely shocked that people could live here; listening as Steve pointed out different things while making their way to the backyard.

You felt Eddie slide his hand into yours, tugging you so your back met his chest. "Thank you," Eddie whispered, letting you lead you both up to Steve's room.

When the door shut, you answered, "Don't have to thank me, baby, I just thought he'd be overwhelmed, and a neutral space was best for right now. Then he can settle in at home."

Eddie nodded, peeking out from behind Steve's curtains to the pool yard below. "He's already talking with Dustin," he chuckled lightly.

"He's gonna be okay, Eddie," you assured, stepping towards him to peer around him. You could see Nancy and Robin giggling on the side of the pool, and how Steve and Dustin were talking with animation to Teddy. "He's safe."

"Thanks to you," Eddie whispered, the tick to his tone assuring you he was suppressing emotion.

"Hey," you whispered, turning Eddie to face you, "I didn't do anything, that was all you, angel. You saved Teddy; I just drove the car."

"You did so much more than that," he promised, caressing your left cheek. "I just can't thank you enough."

You grinned, "I'm happy to help, angel. But you've gotta answer a question for me."

"Anything, peaches."

"Were you being serious? Back there, um... W-With your mom? When you said you wanted me to be your wife?"

Eddie smiled down at you, bringing both hands to your cheeks; leaning down to press his lips to yours. It was simple enough to lose yourself in the motion, always finding Eddie's lips mesmerizing to the point where your mind went blank.

When he pulled back, you both needed to take a long breath in; resulting in light panting as Eddie smirked, "I was being very serious, peaches. I'm sorry if it was abrupt, I-I know we've only talked about it once before, but after today, there's no doubt in my mind that you're gonna be my wife. Soon."

"Soon?"

"Real soon," he teased, leaning down to kiss you again. "As soon as we can," he chuckled.

"Hm, you're gonna need to propose first," you teased. "Gotta get a ring, too."

"I have one," he assured.

"You do?"

"Course I do. I uh... I bought it about a year ago."

"But..." you blinked a few times, "W-We broke up a year ago?"

"I know," he sighed. "After our fight, I just couldn't think straight. The next morning, I went and bought a ring because I knew I couldn't be without you. Our breakup taught me that life without you isn't really living, it's just existing. So, I went and made sure that when I got you back, I'd never risk losing you again."

"And when we got back together?"

"I didn't want to startle you," he nodded. "We were broken up three months, and it fucking sucked, princess, that I didn't want you to get scared and run away from us. But when we got back together, God, I was just grateful to have you back - so, I didn't want to risk losing you again, and if that meant waiting, I'd wait forever."

You nodded, feeling tears surface, "It was hard for me, too."

"But we got through it."

"We did," you nodded, sniffling. "And we're gonna get through this, too. Together."

"Always together," he breathed, pressing his lips to your forehead. The sounds of laughter and screaming and splashing interrupted you, both peaking back out to see Teddy on Steve's shoulders as Mike was on Lucas' and there was a game of chicken going on.

You and Eddie both laughed when Mike comically flailed from Lucas' shoulders; Teddy grinning and cheering with Steve in victory. Nancy and Robin posed as cheerleaders from the sidelines, howling in pride when the little boy looked around, soaking in the praise he's never had in his life.

"C'mon," you smiled up at Eddie, "we're missing all the fun out there."

Getting changed was simple enough and you both made it down to the back patio, greeting the other party members and their significant others. "Eddie! Eddie! Watch me!" Teddy called, waving wildly from Steve's shoulders still.

"I'm watching, buddy!" Eddie grinned back, pulling you to sit on the side of the pool with him.

"C'mon! Get in!" Teddy giggled, letting Steve wrangle him from his shoulders. "C'mon, Eddie!"

"Yeah, Eddie, c'mon," you mocked with a grin, winking at him before shoving him into the water. Teddy laughed wildly with the others as Eddie resurfaced, hair drenched down his face as he sputtered to get it out of his mouth.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" He asked you, hand sloppily pushing hair away from his sight.

"Very," you giggled before cutting off abruptly, screaming when Eddie latched onto your ankles and pulled you into the water, too.

The party members laughed merrily as you gasped for breath, laughing a little yourself as you flipped your hair from your face. "It's a look, baby, really metal," Eddie giggled.

"That was betrayal if I ever knew it," you teased. "Get him, Teddy!"

"AH!" the boy shouted from the side of the pool, leaping to the water, and landing on Eddie's back - forcing the older boy to dunk under the surface.

"Woah, hey! Hey!" Eddie laughed when he popped back up, swiftly grabbing Teddy around the waist so he didn't have to doggie paddle in his floaties too hard. "That wasn't nice, bud! Thought brothers stuck together!"

"You dunked sissy; I dunk you!" Teddy grunted, trying to wrangle from his brother's grip.

Eddie gasped comically, looking at you with wide eyes, "Et tu, sweetheart?"

You only shrugged, "Should know better than to dunk a lady in the pool, Eddie. Now, you've gotta reap the consequences."

"Nobody touches sissy!" Teddy assured, flexing his little arms and Eddie let him dunk him under water again.

The rest of the afternoon was spent together, laughing and joking with everyone, the younger members of the party entertaining Teddy sweetly. Steve was a very gracious host and made sure everyone had what they wanted or needed; and Teddy was having the time of his freaking life letting Robin braid his hair. Steve handed you a towel for Teddy when it was time to head home for dinner, moving off to speak with Eddie before everyone was ready and packed up.

Teddy snuggled back into Eddie's shirt and took your hand softly, making Eddie carry your bag and towels as the little boy told you about all the fun he had. He never knew a pool could be so big.

In the car, Eddie made sure Teddy was strapped in and that his dragon stuffie was close to him; the boy strangling it in his grip against his chest as he happily hummed to the song on the radio. When the boy's eyes started to droop a little, you smiled in the rearview mirror before looking at Eddie and reaching for his hand.

"What did Steve say to you?"

Eddie smirked, "That we're welcome to use the pool whenever we want. Said he was happy to see someone enjoy it, so, whenever Teddy wants, he'd be happy to host."

"That's really nice of him."

"And he offered to babysit whenever we need," Eddie smirked.

"Always the Goddamn babysitter!" You laughed lightly with Eddie, his hand tightening in yours.

"Hey," he spoke seriously, earning a glance from you before your attention was back on the road, "I uh... I just wanted to thank you. This hasn't been easy, but uh... You make it worth it. And I'm glad to do this with you."

"Do what, baby?"

"Life."

You pulled up to the red light before your house, leaning over to pull Eddie in for a harsh kiss. He chuckled against your lips, humming lightly when your tongue swept into his mouth dominantly. His hand rose to your jaw, sweeping his thumb across it when you pulled back, whispering, "I'm really glad to do life with you, too, angel."

"You and me, right?"

You smiled, nodding, "You, me, and Teddy."

"The way it should be, should've always been," Eddie sighed, deflating back into his seat with a knowing smile. His hand remained tight in yours the rest of the drive, and when you got home, Wayne was already grilling outside and waving at you while Eddie grabbed a sleepy Teddy from the backseat.

While you both made your way inside with Teddy slowly waking up on Eddie's shoulder, Wayne chuckled to himself and took another swig of beer, "I give 'em a year before they have a kid of their own, those crazy kids. God love 'em."

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