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lazycats-stuff · 3 months

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Hello author. I hope your having a splendid day

May I request a reader x batfamily ( a year younger than Damian)

They are a Demi god of lightning and electricity.

He has been having a hard time with cases and failing and stuff like that, too much pressure. And he’s kind of hitting his breaking point.

So during a fight with a villain, alone. The villain corrupts the reader and makes him evil.

For a few months he became a villain and barely anyone could stop him. The batfamily at first didn’t know it was him but during a mission that was orders by the villain that corrupted him, to kill Althea (your oc) but Althea got away with injures but saw his face and told her mom and her mom told bats.

So with this new information the batfamily were more devastated .

With the help of the justice league the batfamily are in a show down with the reader, somewhere near a cliff and they fight and while also talking about their memories together. Reader was too powerful though and restrains everyone with use his electricity. His eyes are red and with dead eyes he walks towards any batfamily member of your choice and was about to deliver the final blow before the bat member looks at them and says ‘ I love you, my son/little brother’ reader hesitates and his eyes widens and filled with tears, the red disappearing.

He’s of course confused and disoriented, he steps back and not notices the cliff. His mind coming back to me as he slowly lets his restaions of the others disappear. He steps back near the cliff and looks back into the abyss and back at his family and friends. With regret and a messed up mind right now thinking he won’t be forgiven, he purposely steps back and fall down the cliff. No one was fast enough to stop his fall and he dies.

They retrieve his body and they’re just depressed and stuff for a while hut Damian won’t allow his only little sibling to die and takes his body to talia and he gets revived back. when he brings unconscious reader back, the batfamily are upset at him for doing a dangerous act but happy that it went well.

Sorry it’s too long.

Hi anon, I hope you have have a splendid day too. Also, don't worry about the length. Lets go.

Summary: (Y/N) gets taken and is broken. The family has to save him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SUICIDE- read at your own risk everyone!, near death of another character, the fam is suffering...

(Y/N) Wayne, the youngest child in the family and the only child who isn't really human. He is a demigod you see, a demigod of lighting and electricity. I think you can guess that his biological dad is Zeus. Because of it, he got close to Wonder Woman her daughter, Althea. He liked them both and he didn't mind hanging out with them.

He was a good detective too. Bruce was happy and proud, but made sure he wasn't over working himself and neglecting himself like, ahem, Tim. He was different from the rest of the family too. He didn't really have a traumatic past. His mom left him, but the Justice League and Bruce took care of him.

He was really close with his brothers too. Jason and Dick made sure he didn't overwork himself, Tim was fascinated with his powers and how they worked and Damian liked to just hang out with him in general. (Y/N) is the only person he liked and tolerated.

But times have shifted a little bit. (Y/N) was overworked and he was just dead inside. The pressure to solve the cases was piling and piling on and while (Y/N) knew that Bruce wouldn't mind if he took a break, he knew it wouldn't fit his own image. He would be disappointed in him, although not outwardly, inwardly.

He was nearing his breaking his point. He hid it well from the others, not wanting to disappoint them or worry them. He worked himself to the bone, closing in and refusing to open up. He knew he needed to do this and solve this. These cases need to be solved one way or another.

One way or another. It was time to get this shit over with and to do this as best as he can. He needs to get as far away from this pressure and from this breaking point as soon as possible. ASAP. Bruce explained to him that whenever he is nearing that point, he should take a break, but there are people depending him to solve this shit.

(Y/N) hated this shit more than anything else in the world. He really wanted to get this over with. Frustration, anger, sadness... He really wants to feel happy...

Is that so wrong to feel and wish for.

(Y/N) knew that he had to tell someone. Maybe Wonder Woman and Althea would be a better option to talk to, but those two were raised as warriors and they probably don't put emotions on the first place. Mental health is a difficult area to navigate. (Y/N) didn't even sleep from time to time, for a few days, school also being a big overwhelming factor in this stuff. He had good grades, not a straight A student, but still a good student. That was more than enough for Bruce who simply says to do your best in school.

If (Y/N)'s grades dropped, then Bruce would've caught on. Really caught on and he would force (Y/N) to stop with the cases and patrol.

(Y/N) knew it was a bad idea to do this. But there was nobody to help him in this fight. It's said that every single batkid has his own villains. Well, (Y/N) could fricking confirm it. This bastard was a pain in his ass for him and for the rest of the family. (Y/N) was thrown into the wall and he grunted as he tried to get up.

It was difficult, but he managed to do it.

He glared at the villain, clenching his fist. He could feel electricity coursing through his veins, out right refusing to back down. He could feel his eyes turning electric blue. The villain used his powers to disappear into the shadows, making (Y/N) scowl.

" Did you really come here alone? " The villain said from the shadows, making (Y/N) look around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. He really didn't like this at all.

" That is brave. Coming here alone to face me. " (Y/N) scowled more as he heard mocking tone in his voice, knowing that facing alone this type of villain is not good and not advisable. (Y/N) threw some electricity at the villain.

He didn't know whether or not he has hit him, but he moved, not wanting to stay somewhere where he could be a sitting duck and more so an easy target for the villain. Shadow and darkness is a scary place and although his family could often be found in it, (Y/N) thought of them as some sort of beacons of light. Sure, they were dark figures, but they were bringing hope and justice.

That sounds like a paradox or oxymoron, but it was true. But being a person in the darkness and shadows and being evil... Yeah... Not good. Really not good.

(Y/N) turned his head when he heard something behind him, but that was a distraction. The real blow came from the front, leaving (Y/N) no time to react as he was thrown into the darkness and into the shadows. (Y/N) couldn't get his bearings together and he was panicking now. He had to get out of this cloud of darkness. He really had to.

He had to.

He started walking, hands reaching out to try and feel where a wall is. Everything was dark and he had no idea where he was going. One guess would be hell, one would be the exit for this stupid building. (Y/N) hoped that he was on his way to the exit, but hey, you can't have it all, can you?

(Y/N) pushed on, but screamed only a few moments later when the shadows pulled him in, invading his mind, breaking through his defenses easily. NO! Fighting was futile though, (Y/N) knew it. (Y/N) knew that very well.

" Just surrender. It will be easier. " The voice said and (Y/N) knew that he couldn't fight and with the last bit of resistance, (Y/N) allowed the darkness to take over his mind.

For now, it was over.

The entire family was loosing their collective minds and their shit. Each in their own way. Some were silent, but some were more emotional and taking it out on criminals. Ahem, Jason. Bruce was quiet and worked non stop to to find his youngest son, his child. Alfred was on the verge of killing someone.

It was difficult to even function normally without their family member. Also, there is another problem on the horizon. A new villain was on the prowl and he was good. Bruce saw he had a lot of training that was far too good for some amateur.

What the hell is going on here?

Bruce was overworked and asked Wonder Woman and Superman to try to locate this new villain because his son was a far more bigger priority than some stupid villain coming to their scene so to speak. Bruce had no time or patience for it.

If only Bruce knew.

Wonder Woman and Superman were doing a good job at tracking the new villain, making sure to communicate with Batman and offer comfort whenever they could. They would often see their nephews, trying to bring some comfort to the poor boys who lost their brother.

For a few months, there were no clues, nothing. Not about a new villain, not about (Y/N) either. Bruce was on the edge of an abyss and he can't do anything to stop himself from going over the edge. A little push was needed and then he would be long gone in that aspect.

The entire batfamily was at the Justice League HQ, looking through intel. Wonder Woman and Superman were in the middle of presenting the intel they managed to obtain when Althea burst through the doors, falling down on her knees, making Wonder Woman gasp before running towards her daughter.

" Althea! " She said, clearly worried and Bruce walked up to the duo, trying to see if Althea is okay.

" Mom, it's (Y/N)... " She said before coughing up more blood, making the inside of her mouth red.

" What about (Y/N)? " Bruce asked quickly, hoping she would stay awake and conscience long enough for him to know. Everyone was waiting patiently for Althea to start.

" (Y/N) is the villain. " She said, coughing even more and Wonder Woman picked her up and ran towards the medical wing of the HQ.

When Wonder Woman left, the room was shrouded in silence. Tense and palpable. Bruce had to sit down. No. No. (Y/N) couldn't have... Dick wiped his eyes as he started crying softly. Bruce broke out of his trance and quickly hugged his sons in a big group hug.

" I know... " Bruce said, pausing to compose himself. " But now we know that (Y/N) is alive. He is somewhat okay. " Bruce said as he swallowed with a bit of difficulty.

(Y/N) was alive. (Y/N) IS alive. They will bring their brother and son home. No matter what.

Well, (Y/N) got stronger during his kidnapping. His eyes were red and nobody could even get close to him. Tim and Dick were unable to move from being restrained by electricity and the other three members were trying everything they could fricking think of. Everything. They have tried to awake his memories. From when he was little, from when they did stupid pranks... Anything they could think of.

Nothing worked.

Soon enough, everyone was restrained with electricity and (Y/N) looked like he was going to kill them. Bruce watched his son as he walked over to him, ready to finish him. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was ready to kill him. But there was one thing that they didn't try just yet.

Bruce watched as his son raised his fist up, ready to strike. Ready to kill.

" I love you son. " Bruce said as he smile and (Y/N) stopped.

The red was gone. The red was gone! Bruce smiled even more and the boys were waiting with a baited breath as to what would (Y/N) do. They didn't expect the tears. But by God, it was a sight they were hoping.

The shadow chains were getting broken.

(Y/N) was slowly moving backwards, going to the edge of the cliff, hands gripping his hair and head. Everything was coming back to him... What he did to Althea... His brothers... His dad, father.... What he did when he was under the villain's control...

(Y/N) looked back at the edge of a cliff, seeing the waves crash at the hard stone... Usually, (Y/N) would love to watch it, just to relax. But now, (Y/N) only sees the dark abyss. Everyone at one point is just standing at the edge of that abyss and then, sometimes, the abyss blinks back at you.

He glanced back at his family, who were out of the restraints, just waiting for (Y/N) to say something. (Y/N) couldn't really see their faces due to tears, but he did wonder one single thing.

Would they forgive him? Would Althea forgive him?

(Y/N) shook his head as he took another backwards, he could feel the edge, right at his heels. His mind was in shambles, ruins... He wouldn't be forgiven...

He knew that his family wouldn't forgive him. But Althea might kill him... (Y/N) looked back at his family once more, one last time. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment.

" I'm sorry. "

Bruce's eyes widened and he knew exactly what he was going to do and he got up and ran towards (Y/N), but it was too late. (Y/N) took a step over the edge, falling backwards into the waves and onto the hard rocks. Bruce leapt forward, hands grabbing the edge, but it was too late.

Bruce watched his son laying down there, waves washing over him. Bruce closed his eyes as he heard a scream behind him and then there was sobbing. Bruce looked up towards the sky, which opened up and Bruce for a moment thought that the sky was crying over their son.

The boys were destroyed and Bruce was destroyed with them... Oh God... Alfred will be destroyed too... Bruce allowed his tears to fall, and those tears were mixed with the rain.

Bruce swore that someone came in and took a part of soul. Just took it and ripped it out of his chest. A part of his heart was also taken and shattered. He look back at his sons, quickly grouping them into a hug, wanting to give them as much comfort as he can.

" Why? " Damian asked, shaken to his core.

" He said he was sorry... He thought we wouldn't forgive him... " Bruce said, burying his face into Damian's hair.

The boys all cried, crying out for their brother. Their souls and hearts were shattered too.

The world seemed to cry for (Y/N) Wayne.

Unfortunately, they couldn't bury (Y/N) just yet. They had to make sure that there were no restraints on his mind and body... And maybe they weren't ready to bury him just yet. They all hoped for a miracle to happen. Maybe (Y/N) would wake up and just be hey guys... But they all knew that wouldn't happen.

They were all grieving for (Y/N) in their own ways, but Damian was hurting the most. He was thinking about (Y/N) all the time and he cried alone in his room, thinking about his brother. The house was silent and there was no way it could ever be the same.

Damian thought about his grandfather and the Lazarus pit... Maybe... Just maybe...

The way back was easier than the way to Lazarus pit. Talia didn't expect him to come, especially not with his younger brother, well, half brother but still. Talia met (Y/N) and she did like him. She didn't know what happened, but she felt bad for the poor boy. She also didn't expect that Damian would want to use the pit, but she wasn't going to stop him.

She helped him put (Y/N) in the pit, waiting and watching. The color was coming back to his cheeks. There was that infamous white streak in his hair... Damian watched with a bated breath, hoping it would work.

After a few minutes, they checked for a pulse. Damian sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. His brother was alive... He is alive.... Talia watched as Damian took (Y/N) into his arms, lifting him out of the water, hugging him tightly.

She left the two brothers alone, allowing Damian to have a moment to get himself ready. He had to go back home...

As said before, the way back was easier and oddly enough, he made it just in time for dinner. He didn't question it and walked through, carrying his now alive brother.

Bruce spat out his water and the rest paled. There was (Y/N), but he looked like he was sleeping. He had more color than he had...

" Damian, " Bruce started as he stood up, not sure what more to say. The rest was quiet. " What did you do? "

" I used the Lazarus pit. "

That sentence... Bruce's eyes widened as he walked closer to his now alive son... He took (Y/N) into his arms, trying not to cry. (Y/N) was alive... He is alive.

" Lets put him to bed. " Bruce said with a strain in his voice. The other 3 boys jumped from their seats to really see if their brother is really alive.

(Y/N) was alive... They all cried softly as they realized that (Y/N) was alive... (Y/N) is alive!

They were happy, but mad at the same time since Damian didn't tell anyone of them what the hell he was planning. But they were happy and maybe their family could be whole again, once more.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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beachylupin · 6 months

Text

American Woman || Remus Lupin x American!Fem!Reader

jesus christ. i'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to update this story. i think i got very overwhelmed with posting all of it, and the whole entire thing just so happens to be like... 10k words and i frankly don't have time to go through and edit all of that right now. good for more parts, right? also SLOW BURN? please tell me that one of you picks up on it. pls. i wish i could promise that the next part won't be so long away, but i genuinely can't promise anything </3 as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated <3 part 1 here, mb here word count: 3.4k warnings: this isn't necessarily happy, kind of stressful, a wee graphic (?), maybe like two swear words, quickly edited, i'm sorry

The Eldritch Manor had one bedroom with a double bed in the center of it and two dressers. Remus, who had already claimed one of the dressers, had given the bed to you since you were the “guest” in the safe house, but you had every intention of switching with him after his change in a week.

All the things the change did to a body was devastating, and you knew the small leather sofa wasn’t going to do any good for him or his already aching limbs.

Remus wasn’t young for his age. He was turning nineteen in a few months, but his body aged quicker due to the trauma it was put through every month, making his body at least thirty-five. He had a cane propped up against the wall near the front door that he hadn’t used yet, multiple first aid kits stacked under the bathroom sink, and cabinets full of prescription grade no-maj pain-killers, given to him out of love by his no-maj born friend.

He knew his body was much older than yours, and yet, he crammed himself onto the tiny, two-seater sofa in front of the fireplace the first night happily, telling you to sleep well.

You woke in the chilly bedroom and dressed casually: jeans and a thick, navy blue knit sweater. You paired it with wool socks, happy you had thought ahead and brought warm clothes.

The Manor was drafty, as you learned last night when you nearly froze yourself to sleep once you shut the bedroom door.

You poked your head out of the bedroom, seeing Remus still asleep on the couch, an open book laying on the ground next to him. His scarred face this peaceful was a comforting sight. Your heart clenched as he shifted, knowing this would most likely be his last good sleep for a week and a half, the moon getting fuller and fuller every night.

Remus looked so young; much younger than he had looked last night in the light of the fire. His lanky legs were curled up under him, sure to crack when he woke up and stretched. His cheek was squished against the arm, soft puffs of air blowing through his lips.

It had been a late night discussing both of your lives, mugs of tea warming your hands as you sat in the recliner across from Remus on the couch.

Remus had grown up in Wales under the protective shadow of his mother and father, Lyall and Hope. Hope was a muggle homemaker, and Lyall worked for the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Since this department was so broad, it was very mismanaged, and the werewolf registry had gone unnoticed for a long time.

Fenrir Greyback was brought in for questioning after two muggle children were killed, their bodies showing signs of a werewolf attack. Greyback wasn’t registered, but Lyall recognized all the signs he showed, claiming that he was, indeed, a werewolf.

“Soulless!” Lyall had yelled during that hearing. “Evil, wretched creatures! They deserve nothing but suffering and death!”

He was then thrown from the hearing, ultimately sealing his son’s fate as Greyback was released that same day.

Greyback broke and entered into their home, turning Remus shortly before his fifth birthday, changing Lyall’s views on lycanthropy forever.

The Lupin’s became nomads, moving from small village to small village, trying to contain their child’s behavior by keeping him as a recluse. He had a loving home, but had never known friends before Hogwarts.

You, on the other hand, grew up in New York, in a small town near Lake Placid. Your upbringing was fairly normal. Your muggle father worked as a carpenter, whereas your mom worked for the Wizarding Resources Department for the Magical Congress of the United States in New York City. She was gone from the time you woke up until shortly after you went to bed most days.

Because of that, it was mainly you and your father, who treated you like you were made of solid gold. He was a fantastic chef, an amazing storyteller, and the reason why you were able to be independent in your young adult life, giving you the courage to stand on your own two feet.

Since your town was surrounded by woods, it was unsafe to go out at night in fear that the creatures of the forest would take you away.

You were nine when the howling you often heard far out in the forest came closer. They were outside in the streets of your town. In the homes of your neighbors.

What was to become of your friends? The girl down the street that invited you to her sixth birthday party? The boy you sat next to in second grade? The woman who handed out full-sized candy bars on Halloween?

Their homes were being ravaged by monsters.

Screams followed the howls, and the two of you did as you were supposed to: you hid under your bed until the streets got quiet again, and your muggle father, only armed with a shotgun, sat by the front door in wait.

Your house, miraculously, was untouched.

When the howls stopped, and the screams turned to cries, you crawled out from under your bed, finding your father horror-struck by the picture window, staring out at the carnage.

You couldn’t help but peek, seeing your neighbor boy, Lukas, writhing on the tar, his mother wailing as she tried to cover his exposed insides. He was your friend. The boy who taught you how to play ball.

How could they? Your little brain screamed. What kind of monster could do that? He was a child!

Your father pulled you away from the window, his eyes wide as he knelt down to look at you.

“Don’t blame the wolves, sweetheart,” he said, his voice grave. “Nobody has ever shown them kindness. They don’t know any better.”

You tiptoed to the kitchen, bringing your small suitcase, to begin brewing your first batch of wolfsbane for him.

You set up on the kitchen table and began carefully brewing the potion. Sure, it was difficult, but you could do it with your eyes closed at this point.

“Wolfsbane, betony, and a drop of dittany,” you mumbled to yourself, dropping it all in a cauldron before adding some water. You let it steep over the stove top, taking a peek back into the living room.

Remus was still asleep, mouth now open as his feet hung up and over the armrest. The blanket had fallen off of him at some point, leaving him in flannel bottoms and a plain, white t-shirt. How was he not freezing?

You checked your watch. You had about a minute before you needed to stir the potion and add bat spleen powder and another drop of dittany. Surely, you could put the blanket back over him.

Or would that be too presumptuous? That’s something a friend would do, right? Or a lover, for that matter. Was Remus even your friend? He could be even though you just met. He gave up the bed for you, and the two of you had spilled your life stories to one another. Surely, that meant something.

You shook your head at the thought, turning back to the burner to continue the potion.

Remus woke up near the end of your process, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched and sat up.

He saw you standing in the doorway of the kitchen, calling out, “You chilly? I can start another fire.”

You glanced over your shoulder, noticing him staring at you from the couch, his hair mused from sleep. Your cheeks started to burn as you looked back at the potion.

“If you want to, sure,” you said, eyes on the potion. “Otherwise, this is almost done, then I can do it.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he got up with a groan, taking a squat near the fireplace.

Your brain screamed as your cheeks continued to burn. Remus was a very handsome guy, but you weren’t supposed to feel anything for him, except maybe bad for his situation.

But he was kind, and you could tell he was the most gentle out of all of his friends you met last night. He seemed to care.

If you were going to feel anything for anyone in England, it was always going to be him.

A blue plume of smoke caught your attention. You pulled the small cauldron off the burner and strained it into a mug.

You turned around, watching Remus light the fire and take a seat on the couch, his brown eyes locking to yours as you entered the room.

You handed him the freshly brewed potion, taking a seat at his feet. “Drink up while it’s still warm,” you said, urging the mug to his lips. “It isn’t as bad when it’s warm.”

Remus’ nose crinkled. “You don’t understand how terrible it tastes.”

“I’ve tried it,” you said. “Just drink it, and I’ll make you some green tea.”

He sighed, throwing you a glare before downing the potion and holding back a gag. He thrusted the mug into your hands, his palms meeting his forehead as he groaned.

“See? Not as bad warm,” you teased, reaching out to pat his knee.

Remus shook his head. “‘S just as bad.”

“‘M sorry,” you cooed. “How do you want your tea?”

“Plain,” he muttered, his palms finally leaving his forehead. “Not green. Earl grey if possible.”

“Fresh out,” you said, having just thrown away the box last night. He groaned. “Do you want coffee instead?”

“Black?” He asked, perking up.

“I can do that,” you said. “You should get dressed. ‘M assuming we’ll be getting guests soon.”

He nodded and shuffled off into the bedroom while you walked back into the kitchen.

You heard a door open behind your back. Assuming it was Remus who might’ve forgotten something, you didn’t turn around, not wanting to seem like you were checking on him.

“Where’s that lass?” A bassy man shouted from the front door. “That American woman?!”

You almost screamed, peeking out from the kitchen.

The man standing at the door was a marvel. Despite his low and loud voice, he stood stout at just five and a half feet, he looked miniscule compared to the large man that barged in next to him..

Remus poked his head out of the bedroom, looking at you in the kitchen doorway, eyebrows furrowed.

As if he could sense your silent confusion, the short man laughed loudly. “I’m Demolcles Belby! I’m told you’re Bane,” he said then looked at Remus. “You must be Moony then?”

Remus smiled tightly and nodded once at the short man, glancing back at you before disappearing behind the bedroom door again, closing it.

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you nervously wiped your hands on your dark jeans as you crossed the small house.

“Hi, Mr. Belby,” you gushed, extending your hand toward him as you introduced yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Ah, someone who shares my passion?” He said, his grip tight on your hand. “The pleasure is all mine!”

“They sent you? You’re Bane?!” The other man, who you assumed to be Mr. Moody from his gruff hmph, barked. “You’re just a kid!”

You stood straighter, taking the familiar insult with narrowed eyes. “You must be Mr. Moody? The one who wanted me to disapparate across the ocean?” You asked, extending your hand to him. “I’d like to think that I’m more than just a kid.”

Remus came back into the living room as Moody snubbed your hand. He was dressed in a dark green button up and jeans, staring at your extended hand, eyebrows furrowed.

“She’s much more than a kid, Alastor!” Belby shouted back, taking your hand into his. “She jus’ so happens to be the Congress’s most innovative potioneer! Why, you’re lookin’ at the lass who tried figurin’ out a way to produce wolfsbane potions at mass market value.”

Remus looked between you and the man before wandering into the kitchen for his promised cup of coffee.

“That’s expensive,” Moody scoffed, briefly glancing at Remus leaving before returning his attention to you. “You’d never be able to afford the resources without making it cost thousands of galleons.”

“Well, when you have a greenhouse filled with the most important ingredient, and almost everything else is locally sourced, it becomes a lot less expensive,” you said, a small smirk playing on your lips as he grumbled under his breath. “My only issue is preservation. Simply jarred? It spoils during the new moon. Canned? Possible since it won’t spoil, but not ideal… The taste is still there. Pill form? Now-”

“A wolfsbane pill?” Remus piped in, now standing next to Moody, a warm mug in his hands. “That’s genius.”

“I’d like to think it’s possible,” you said, your cheeks turning pink. “I just have to find out a way to turn the potion to powder and-”

“That’s not what you’re here for,” Moody cut you off, crossing his arms.

You shut your mouth, teeth grinding as you tightened your jaw. “I know that,” you quipped, standing straighter.

“All work and no play. Isn’t that, Bane?” Belby chuckled, slapping your back. “We should probably get crackin’, now shouldn’t we?”

You threw him a tight smile, nodding before looking at Remus, who was already staring.

“We-” Moody said, his attention turning to Remus. “-have our own matters to attend to.”

Remus nodded once, clearing his throat. “Right,” he mumbled, glancing back at you. “Good luck.”

You smiled slightly, mumbling, “Thanks, you too.”

That’s how the rest of the week continued. Moody would angrily drop Belby off so that the two of you could continue your work while Remus disappeared with him, wishing you well on his way out the door.

Belby wasn’t horrible to work with. Rather, he was a joy, just a bit too loud for your liking. Sure, he had a lot of interesting stories, and you genuinely learned a lot from him when he wasn’t shouting about his brother’s kid, but when someone shouts around you for eight hours a day, it starts to become grating.

Especially when trying to figure out a way to turn a liquid to a vapor while exploding at the same time.

You took many bathroom breaks just to get some peace and quiet, staring at yourself in the mirror and asking yourself if you had done the right thing in coming here.

Remus would always come back in the evening, usually having just eaten at the pub with his friends. His spirits seemed to be high every time he reappeared for the night, happy to be home even if you didn’t talk to him very much.

He’d quietly sit on the couch after stoking the fire and fixing himself a drink, his nose in one of the many books strewn along the floor. He’d always place a glass of water next to you as he passed, his scarred hand gently squeezing your shoulder.

You frankly had little time to eat or talk, your forehead in your hands as you stared at the papers in front of you. The now daily migraine thumped against your skull as you read and reread and reread the papers in front of you.

How on Earth were you going to craft a bomb? The whole project felt like a bite that was just too big to chew. You weren’t Oppenheimer.

“Hiya,” Remus cooed as soon as the front door opened on the evening of the full moon, smiling as he saw the back of your head tipped down over your makeshift desk by the fireplace, fingers on your temples. “Alright?”

You lifted your head, glancing over your shoulder to see him toeing off his shoes. “Sure,” you said, looking back at the papers. “How’s it going with you?”

Remus hummed in response, bringing a chair over to sit next to you. “Oh, you know,” he said, peeking over your shoulder with a small, lopsided smile. He smelled like whiskey, sour and sweet. “‘M just dandy.”

You checked your watch, looking at the low sun outside of the window. “Should probably make your potion,” you mumbled, your head in your hands again.

“‘S alright. I’ve got an hour,” he said absently, narrowing his eyes at the paper. “Have anything figured out yet?”

You dropped your hands from your shaking head, pushing yourself away from the desk. “I’m essentially trying to make mustard gas.” You got up, stretching out. “Pretty hard when it needs to be done now.”

“Who gave you that timeline?” Remus hummed, following you into the kitchen.

“Who do you think?” You asked, deadpan.

Remus snorted quietly. “You don’t like him, do you?”

You shot him a look. “Does anyone?”

“He’s not all bad,” he said, sitting at the table near the stove. “Just very… serious. Thinks he’s saving people, but in a way, he kind of is.” You shook your head, feeling his eyes on you as you filled the cauldron. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You asked, trying desperately to ignore the honeyed way he was looking at you from his seat, your heart beginning to feel sticky from it.

Remus shrugged, sitting straighter. “Making me the potion every day… Being here.”

You glanced at him, catching him confidently staring before turning your back on him as you reached for ingredients, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. “Would you be alone otherwise?”

“I haven’t been alone for a transformation since I was fourteen,” he said quietly, finally averting his eyes as you busied yourself with the cauldron.

“Oh?” You asked, your turn to stare at the side of his head now. “Do you go to a pack, or-”

Remus smiled to himself, shaking his head. “James, Sirius, and Peter are animagi.”

“And they’d join you?” You asked, looking back at the boiling pot. “Rather brave-”

“Well, outside of the cage, yeah,” he mumbled, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face again as your eyebrows quirked up in thought. “You’re not allowed downstairs tonight,” he said seriously.

You added the wolfsbane, catching his stern stare. “I’ve had my fair share of being face to face with a wolf before-”

“No,” he cut you off, his gaze hardening. “You’re not coming downstairs, alright? I’ll be fine.”

“Remus-”

“Promise me that you’ll stay upstairs.” His hand was on yours suddenly, squeezing, his eyes pleading.

You looked at your hands, heat burning in your ears. “I’ll stay upstairs,” you mumbled, your response making him squeeze your hand harder.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, dropping your hand.

A lull fell over the two of you as you waited for the potion to finish, checking your watch again. Moonrise was in half an hour, and he had to be downstairs before then. The potion should finish in time, but he should’ve drank it an hour ago for him to be asleep in time of his transition. You added an extra drop of dittany and a bit of wormwood, stirring it again in hopes that it would be fine.

The potion plumed blue smoke, and you strained it, handing him the mug. “Bottoms up.”

He drank it, his nose hardly scrunching before he checked his watch, standing. “Lock the door behind me?”

You nodded reluctantly, tailing him to the basement door. He started his descent to the cage in the cold, brick basement.

“Good luck,” you said from the top of the stairs.

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling tightly. “Sleep well, Bane.”

Locking the basement door was hard, almost as hard as hearing Remus lock himself in the cage, the keys hitting the bottom step with a dull thud as he threw them from the cage.

You hoped the potion would kick in at the right time, rendering the wolf tired enough to just fall asleep before any damage could be done.

You hurried to the bedroom, dragging your blanket and pillow into the living room and trading it for Remus’ things. He’d have no choice but to sleep in the bedroom.

You sat on the couch, your bed for the next week, waiting.

Waiting for a noise.

A feeling.

Anything.

A low howl started from the basement, filling the house. Your heart sank. It didn’t kick in in time.

Another howl, this time, it sounded like a wail, rang through, followed by another, and another.

Was he crying? The wolf was crying.

You left Remus to suffer alone in a basement for the first time in five years.

You stood, pacing, as the cries turned to growls. You grabbed the keys and went to the basement door, standing in front of it. He made you promise to stay upstairs.

You couldn’t break that promise, even if he was alone.

You didn’t dare cross him twice.

Your eyes filled with tears as something crashed against the steps, another howl coming from the basement. Sinking against the door, you closed your eyes, your face in your hands.

If you couldn’t even get a potion that you’ve been making for years right for someone who hated what they were, why would you think you could try to help a whole group of ferals who enjoyed it?

Fuck.

taglist: @ttulipwritezz @jasontoddsmentaldisorders @acciotwinz @lilianelena39 @prongsprincessworld @hawkins-2000 @ginseng-green-tea

#remus lupin #part two #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x american!fem!reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic

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pimosworld · 5 months

Text

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia.

He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over.

They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much.

“Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure.

“Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies.

“Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin.

“Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.”

This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well.

“That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?”

“He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

“I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?”

“Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did.

He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back.

Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say.

He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp.

If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would.

****

Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day.

Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic.

He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t.

He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them.

The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him.

Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on.

He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead.

It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story.

“Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you.

“You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time.

“I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests.

“The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad.

“I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day.

He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire.

“I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi.

“I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief.

“You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

“Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.”

Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts.

“Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side.

This is going to be a long day.

****

The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake.

Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night.

His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back.

Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing.

Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk.

“I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement.

“I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.”

“Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert.

“You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor.

****

Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco.

He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record.

Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years?

He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco.

They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him.

“I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something.

“Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.”

“You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little.

“As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town.

“Corner,black suit.”

Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.”

“Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.”

Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it.

Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this.

Way to be positive Frankie

****

Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over.

“So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him.

He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type.

“Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little.

“Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue.

Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives.

Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak.

Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it.

“So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about.

“Why do you do it?”

Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’.

These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties.

“I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say.

“Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.”

Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful.

“I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes.

“If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.”

Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well.

Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat.

“I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars.

“I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more.

Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all.

****

Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly.

Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money.

Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance.

Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love.

Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat.

Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?”

“Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.”

He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better.

Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park.

“I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further.

“I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day.

“Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right.

****

“Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use.

“I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom.

You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene.

You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet.

“Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is.

“Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front.

“You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?”

“Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

“You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room.

“You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed.

She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

****

The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in.

You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings.

“Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink.

“Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view.

“He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?”

“Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over.

“I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.”

“Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger.

You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words.

Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again.

Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room.

After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

“The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge.

If looks could kill you’d be a goner.

“Irving seemed nice.”

“Shut up.”

You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention.

These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone.

She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money.

“So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar.

You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.”

You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.”

****

“At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache.

“Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road.

“She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.”

“Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.”

Your thoughts exactly.

You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike.

“I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted.

“Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers.

“Deal.”

You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.”

“Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

****

Sleep

That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active.

You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger.

You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set.

In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though.

It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down.

The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else.

It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you.

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Taglist- @missladym1981 @legendary-pink-dot @brittmb115 @christinamadsen @heavennumber2 @anoverwhelmingdin @guelyury @hannahkatharine

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sunlightmurdock · 6 months

Note

I want to know more about Beau x sunshine!reader, do you have any plans to write about it?

here’s some of what I wrote for it before, I don’t really have too many plans for finishing or posting it

…

“Penny for your thoughts?”

When Beau looks up, seven double measures of whiskey deep, he isn’t pleased to find a bubbly girl and her silly little grin looking back at him. In fact, he immediately scowls, unimpressed.

If this is your attempt at being cute, he isn’t having it. Luckily, you aren’t even trying yet. Just being friendly.

You shoot a glance across at your co-worker, Beth. She rolls her eyes at the miserable bastard on the other side of the bar and turns to give her attention to the patrons in here that might actually give her a tip at the end of this.

He’s been sitting there for a good few hours now. Since before your shift began at four, anyway. You give a small shrug and turn your back on him.

Beau glances up once more. He takes his time to look now that you’re not grinning back at him. When he was younger, he would’ve gone for you. You’re dressed kind of like she used to.

Dylan was saying something the other day about the early two-thousands being back in style, but Beau tends not to listen to his eleven-year old son’s fashion advice. It’s hard to take the kid who only just figured out that maybe wearing his jeans a size too big doesn’t make people think he’s bigger than he is seriously.

Thinking of Dylan snaps Beau quickly back to reality. He peels his eyes away from your short shorts and tank top, instead opting to look at his glass. He’s not sure how old you are, but probably not old enough to be dating a man with an eleven-year old son and a fifteen-year marriage that just went down the drain.

Whilst his eyes are on his almost empty glass, he can’t help but glance down at his wedding band. He’s an idiot for still wearing it. She hasn’t worn it since she told him she was leaving, and that was months ago.

He’s an idiot for thinking that this would all blow over and that she would change her mind.

Beau lifts his glass and finishes the rest, then slams the glass down a little too loudly on the bar. He exhales deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose.

You turn your head slowly as you close the cash register, staring at the clearly devastated man at the end of the bar. You hand the customer their change and find yourself wandering back to him.

“How ‘bout a dollar for your thoughts?”

Beau opens his eyes slowly, staring back at you, completely unimpressed. He’s heartbroken, and a girl like you isn’t going to want to hear about this mess.

“‘Cause yours seem pretty juicy, that’s all,” You shrug playfully, leaning onto the bar with your elbows and smiling across at him. He stares back at you, you realise that a dollar isn’t going to cut it. “Fine, fine — a free drink and you’ll spill?”

Beau’s thick brows furrow slightly. For one, he’s confused on what a pretty, young girl is doing bothering someone his age, and for two — “How come you’re so interested?”

“It’ll make my shift go faster. Plus, my good friend over there and I have a bet going as to whether or not you’re single. She hasn’t noticed the wedding ring yet and once you open up, I’m about to win twenty bucks.”

Beau rolls his eyes. The service in this place has been kind of slow this afternoon. You girls have been busy gossiping away and pissing him off without meaning to. He figures that if he just tells you the half of it, he’ll get that next drink a little bit faster.

He glances down at his wedding ring and toys with it. Finally, he scoffs and pushes his empty glass towards you.

“You owe her a twenty, actually.”

You furrow your brows, but make good on that promise of a free drink, as you turn to grab the bottle. “So, do you wear that thing for fun?”

“My wife left me.” Beau mumbles, his voice deep and sullen. He won’t meet your gaze as he talks, which is a shame, because he’s pretty. Black hair with some silver passing through it. You can tell that he’s the type of guy that’s usually clean shaven, but he’s got a couple of days of scruff on him.

You pour him a little over a double. Closer to a triple. Being the miserable prick that he has grown to be, Beau takes this as incompetence rather than you just being kind to him. But, he doesn’t say anything.

“You must be a real asshole.” You say playfully, lips quirked at the sides. Beau lifts his gaze and stares back at you scoldingly. You grin. “Y’know, because there’s no way she left you because you’re ugly. Not with a face like that.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. Still, it’s been a long time since he was called handsome by a pretty girl in a bar. He lifts his glass and takes a sip of it. Setting it back down, he notices the clear view down your tank top that he’s got and looks back up at you.

“Take your shoes off.” Beau says it before you’re even through the door, tossing his keys down on the entryway table by the door. He walks ahead of you with his shoes on.

You frown slightly, but obey, kicking your sandals off and leaving them by the door. You trail slowly after him, taking your time to be nosey with the pictures on the walls.

There’s an empty frame in the middle. His wife. Beside that, is a picture of Beau. He’s holding two children, one can’t be older than a year old and the other is maybe six. He looks a little younger in this photo but the sun is glaring on it.

You reach out to straighten the frame so that you’ll be able to see it properly.

“Don’t touch that.”

You jump, turning quickly to find Beau at the end of the hall, staring at you.

“Come on.” He turns and you follow again, more obediently this time. He walks you through to the back of the house and opens the door to his office.

He’s sitting back in the leather office chair, one knee crossed over the other.

You trail your fingers over the plaque, his name engraved in it. Turning back to him, you watch as he sets a cigar between his lips and lights it with an expensive looking lighter.

��Thought you didn’t smoke?” You enquire.

He nods and sets the lighter down. He breathes out a puff of grey smoke and pulls the glass ashtray towards him.

“My wife made me quit.” He replies calmly. He’s still wearing that wedding ring, it sits heavily on his ring finger. You cross the office towards him, glancing down at the rug as you feel the soft material under your feet. Him being in your way makes no difference in where you’re headed.

Beau pushes the chair back slightly from the desk as you step past him, nudging the ashtray out of your way, then the keyboard for his computer. You lift yourself up onto the thick, expensive oak desk, sitting in front of him.

That flimsy sundress wouldn’t do much to hide your modesty from where you’re sitting anyway, but Cyclone knows exactly what you’re doing when your rest your feet on his thighs, legs parted just slightly. From where he’s sitting, in his oh-so-important office chair, he’s got a perfect view of the black satin between your legs.

“Your wife made you quit,” You muse, turning and leaning back on one of your palms. With your other hand, you lift the ashtray and examine the fresh ash and the not so fresh ash below that. “But you have an ashtray, and this pretty lighter.”

You set down the ashtray and pick up the lighter. His initials are monogrammed into the silver. He watches as you flick it open, ignite the flame and then flick it closed again.

“I said that she left me, didn’t I?” Beau sits back in the chair and parts his knees further. With your feet resting on his legs, this, in-turn, parts your legs further too.

He has no shame in letting his gaze fall between your legs now, he’s slow in bringing it back up to your face. He exhales another puff of smoke.

You set the lighter down, tilting your head at him.

“Who could leave such a delightful man behind?” You tease, knowing that if he was this miserable when she was still around then she did herself a favour.

Beau raises his eyebrows at you. He’s quiet for a moment, then speaks, “You’ve got an attitude problem, sweetheart.”

“Me? — Have you looked in a mirror recently, old man?” You scoff, pushing at his thigh with your foot. He catches your ankle, just holding it there, letting you know that he’s got you.

Your smirk grows, lips quirking upwards as you lean forwards. You reach out and brush your fingers over his cheek. Your fingertips are soft against his skin. You trail your touch along his temple, gently onto his forehead. You scrunch your brows as you touch the frown lines between his, mimicking the faces he would have made to get them.

Beau catches your wrist with his free hand, taking it away from his face. He squeezes your arm before dropping it, you almost shiver at the gentle enough force. He sets his cigar down in the ashtray and lifts his hand. He does the same, brushing his fingertips over your face. Your cheek, your temple, your jaw. You close your eyes as he touches you.

He sits back in the chair again, knees parted, bringing the cigar to his mouth once more.

You turn and pick up his glass of bourbon. He watches as you swish the liquid around almost carelessly in the glass, right next to his irreplaceable, top secret files. You bring it up and inhale softly.

“Do you like the taste of this stuff?” You ask, not particularly impressed by its smell. The Hard Deck doesn’t stock this kind of bourbon.

Beau nods, exhaling smoke once more. His fingers skim past your ankle and trace the bare skin of your calf. “Three hundred dollars a bottle, I’d sure hope that I like it.”

You hum. Beau watches, intrigued as you take a small sip. You let it sit on your tongue for a moment and then swallow. His eyes fall down to look at that black satin between your legs again, then back up as you hum softly.

“You like it?” Beau asks, brushing his thumb along your calf softly. You give an innocent shrug of your shoulders.

“You want to taste it?” You reply. Beau’s brows scrunch together just slightly, those frown lines reappearing and making you smile amusedly. You push yourself down from the desk and into his lap in one gentle movement, your knees nestled either side of his hips.

You lift the glass and take a small sip of the expensive liquid, then lean forwards. It’s on your lips when you first kiss him. Sweet and smoky, just like he likes it. His big, brutish hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, holding you against him.

You nip softly at his bottom lip, holding back an excited whimper as he tugs gently at your roots. You caress your tongue against his, the flavour of it now on both of your tastebuds. Notes of caramel and vanilla.

You hum softly, gentle fingers tracing over the salt and pepper coloured stubble on his jaw, “Mm, I think I like the taste of bourbon.”

Beau’s hand trails down your spine, grabbing at your hip, his other hand coming to hold at your other. He pulls you firmer onto him. You grind yourself down onto him slowly.

You can taste the cigar on his tongue, now mixed with the bourbon. As much as you didn’t think you’d like the pairing, you like the way it tastes on him. It tastes like how you’d expect him to taste.

Well aware that you’re about to spill expensive bourbon on his even more expensive rug, Beau takes the glass from your hand and sets it back down on the desk, tugging you closer to him.

He pulls back and tilts your chin. Now that you’ve made it clear that he can have you, he takes a moment to decide whether he wants to take you upstairs and fuck you in his bed, or right here on his desk.

Slipping your hand between your legs, shifting back for better access, his decision is made for him as you stroke your palm over his black slacks. You lift your gaze, looking at him in the eye as you gently graze your touch over his bulge.

Beau’s thumbs stroke slowly over your hips.

He watches your face rather than your movements as you reach forwards and gently slip his belt from the first loop, then move to work open the buckle.

Your attention quickly shifts. Beau raises his brows as you abandon the now unbuckled belt and instead sit forwards to loosen his tie. This repeats, you get halfway through unbuttoning his shirt and move back to the belt. You’re nervous.

Beau catches your busied hands between one of his, holding them still against the leather of his belt. He does the work for you, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and slipping it off of his shoulders, leaving him in a white undershirt and his slacks.

He watches the way your eyes study the material, as you try to make your mind up about what you’re about to do next. He decides for you, taking hold of the bottom of the undershirt, sitting back to lift it over his head and drop it down along with his shirt.

You bite the inside of your cheek softly as you trail your fingertips from his shoulders to his hips, tracing each inch of the newly exposed skin.

It’s been over fifteen years since he was with anyone else. He was expecting not to like this as much as he had liked being with his wife, but there’s a level of intrigue he gets from watching you. He enjoys it.

“Your turn.” Beau decides, thumb brushing against the hem of your sundress. You stand up from his lap. Beau picks his cigar back up and lights it again, watching as you step out of the dress.

He lifts his hand, index finger extended, then motions it in a small circle as he exhales another breath of grey smoke. Your lips quirk as you turn for him, slowing so that he can get a good look at you from behind before you’re facing him again.

…

#beau cyclone simpson #Jon Hamm #Beau Simpson #top gun: maverick #ceasefire

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helplesslyblue77 · 11 months

Text

It Felt So Wrong(It Felt So Right)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader, Step Bro!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Step-Sibling Incest, Step Dad!Chan, Step Brother!Felix, Smut, slight degration, Daddy Kink, use of slut, Moral Dilemmas but less than youd think because the author is lazy as fuck

Notes: its very much focused on the reader and there is no m/m action cause chan and felix r related and thats to much even for me,

ok so...you know how its like 3 am and you just had a whole cryfest about how knowone will ever love you and you are obsessing over men who dont even know you exist? and then you feel dumb and take a shower and chug an energy drink while you eat Pizza and smash out like four chapters of your WIP and one very dirty convoluted oneshot????

Yeah.

Anyway i literally cannot watch any clips from Bang Chan's lives the man makes me so Delulu its not ok.

The Title is from 'I Kissed a Girl' by Katy Perry, i love that song man.

You had just turned fourteen when your mother had come home, sat you down at the table, and announced she was getting married. You had not been surprised. You wished her well and snuck upstairs while she talked loudly on the phone with her friends, hardly sparing you a glance.

Your mother seemed to bring home a new man every few years, and at this point, you barely even cared.

And she barely spared a thought for you as well. You were well-fed and had your credit card, but you lacked the love only a parent could give you. Your mother was much too caught up in her pretty jewels and visits to the country club to pay you much thought.

She was selfish, your mother, and used her pretty face and ample figure to get whatever she wanted in life, whether it be money, clothes, or men, she could have it all. The other men your mother seemed to favor never really spared you a glance, too caught up in your mother's boob job to pay attention to her only daughter, so you really had no expectations when it came to this new man.

But when you were finally introduced, you noticed how he was different.

He looked at you, smiled at you, and acknowledged your presence unlike so many of the others had. He even brought you a gift, a pretty silver necklace with a small charm.

He was handsome, and of course much younger than your own mother. Christopher, he said his name was, and he smiled at you warmly, introducing his son to you. Felix was sweet, pretty with a smile like the sun and the two of you hit it off immediately, rushing indoors to play video games while your parents snuck off.

You pretended not to know what they were doing.

You adjusted well to the two of them, Felix transferred into your school and you showed him around, introducing him to your friends. He meshed well into your small group and in no time at all, you were happy as can be. You hoped they would stick around, your mother tended to trade off men very quickly., tossing out the old and bringing in the new every few years.

It was the first time you could remember hoping she didn't get a new boy toy, hoping that Chris and Felix would stick around. But then, in your Junior year of high school, it happened.

You remembered the frantic call from the hospital. Felix’s hand gripped your own tightly as you watched your mother's monitor flatline. You felt guilty, like maybe you should have felt more devastated, but truthfully, you weren't that sad.

You shed tears later, however, wetting the sunny yellow of Felix’s favorite t-shirt. It wasn't the fact that your mother was gone, no, it was your stepfather's devastated face that made you sob like a baby in Felix’s arms.

You hadn't loved your flighty, unreliable mother, but your stepfather had. Even though you all knew she had been cheating on him the last few months.

Your mother is dead now, and it was all in the past.

It all began on that very night, the night your mother died. Your seventeenth birthday had passed barely a few weeks before and you had fingered the pretty necklace they had given you as you ate. Your mother hadn't gotten you a present, but Felix and your stepdad had, and they had spent extra time with you when they noticed your mother was ignoring you as usual.

You remembered how Felix’s pretty face had lit up with a smile when he handed you the gift, Chris subtly shoving a card across the table.

They liked to give you jewelry, and you liked to receive it. It felt nice to be dressed up and you kind of understood why your mother liked it so much. The card had a few hundred in it, and a handwritten note from both of them, telling you how much they cared about you.

You had cried later that night, curled up in Felix’s arms as usual, and thanked him over and over. He had just laughed and comforted you as always. That night, you realized how nice it was to have people who cared about you, people who enjoyed hanging out with you, and who valued the things you had to say.

You dared to think that you were glad your mother was dead, so you could have a real family, all to yourself.

The next day, when your small family moved away from your mother's empty cold house, Chris(As he had insisted you call him) reassured you that they would always care for you that you were their family, that you could live with them as long as you wished.

You felt your cold dead heart, so hardened by your mother's uncaring attitude, begin to blossom in your chest. You noticed, for the first time, how pretty Felix was, with his blond hair and the freckles dotting his skin, how firm his chest felt from years of martial arts when he pressed you up against it. You noticed the caring way he looked at you, the way he comforted you when you were sobbing your eyes out over a dumb boy, or how he always made sure to buy you your favorite drinks from the store.

You noticed your stepfather's dimples when he smiled at you, his muscly arms when he lifted your things and carried them into the house. You noticed the way he would go out of his way to make your favorite foods when he saw you were down, how he didn't get a new girlfriend, probably because he thought you would be upset about it.

You noticed how they cared about you, but most of all, you noticed they were men. And it would plague your mind for years to come.

It started out innocent. Your heart sped up when they came to close, dreams of kissing plump familiar lips, blushing cheeks.

But then it became worse.

And the day of your eighteenth birthday, you awoke sweaty and panting in your bed, two forbidden names falling from your mouth.

You had never considered them as family, not really. Chris was your mother's new toy, and Felix was more of a friend than a brother. That careless attitude was coming back to haunt you.

So you left.

Packed your bags and went off to boarding school. It gave you a break from the suffocating tension that seemed to settle over the house with the loss of your mother. It made you feel guilty, here Chris was so broken up about your mother while you thirsted about him, fantasized about him bending you over the table and taking you ruthlessly. When Felix would smile at you, asking to cuddle and all you could think about was his pretty mouth doing other things to you.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Your twenty-first birthday was only a few days away when you returned from, settling back into your old room and your old routine.

Chris welcomed you back with open arms, hugging you warmly and stroking your hair. “Missed you babygirl.” He would murmur in your ear, and you tried not to shiver at the familiar nickname.

“Missed you too Chris.” With a pat on your back, he hoisted your luggage up and disappeared inside, arms flexing.

Felix tackled you in a hug next, pressing his lithe body into your back. He'd grown while you were gone, shoulder filling out and arms flexing as he hugged you tightly in a sweet back hug. You tried not to imagine what it would feel like if he was doing something else in this position. But this was Felix, he would never even imagine anything like that.

“Missed you Oppa.”

He kissed your neck, and you breathed in his clean scent of sunflowers and things you couldn't quite place. He smelled like home. You jostled against him, accidentally rubbing your but against him and he flinched, pulling away slightly.

You froze, it couldn't be, right? Your sweet innocent brother Felix would never…

He pulled away fully and you decided it was best to ignore it for now, so you grabbed his hand, leading him in.

He smiled at you, and you grinned back. “Dad and I made you a welcome back dinner, it's gonna be great.”

He let you lead him inside, the screen door slamming behind the two of you. You were home.

𝄑𝄑𝄑

You loved being back. The familiar smell of Chris’s cooking, your video game nights with Felix, and most of all, having a family again. But you still couldn't shake that tension. You knew you were the problem and it made you feel guilty. It was hard to cuddle on the couch with Felix when all you could think about was riding him right on this very couch.

It was hard to work out with Chris when you just wanted him to take you in the dirty gym over the workout machines.

But then, on the eve of your twenty-first birthday, when you were all gathered around the table serving the delicious chocolate cake you and Felix had made, you noticed something.

Maybe it was the way their gazes were focused on you, maybe it was the lighting, playing tricks on your brain, but you swore you saw a flicker of desire in their eyes. You shook it off, sighting your horny imagination, and enjoyed your cake, but you could never really forget it.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed things. Lingering glances, guilty eyes flicking away from your cleavage when you wore low-cut shirts when you had sunbathed out by the pool and Chris had come out, dragging his eyes away from your figure as he handed you a glass of homemade lemonade. Or the fact that Felix had laundry duty and some of your panties had mysteriously gone missing.

They both wanted you, that was obvious, but lingering doubts stopped them from just taking you, taking what they wanted. They seemed to think you didn't want them, but oh how wrong they were. They just needed a little push.

So you hatched a plan.

𝄑𝄑𝄑

Your plan was set in motion on a Saturday night. Chris had just gotten back from work, and you bounced over to him, all smiles. “Hey Chris, Felix is gone, and I really wanna watch this movie.” You pouted as he removed his coat, sending him those puppy eyes you knew he was weak for. “Watch it with me.”

He nodded, like the weak man he was, and met your sweet smile as you grabbed his hand, bouncing happily over to the couch and pushing him down. “Gonna go change.”

You make sure to wear your sluttiest pj set, a silk lace tank top, and some matching undies, and bounce back downstairs, plopping yourself down and cuddling up to Chris. “Ready.” Is all you said, grabbing the remote and starting the movie.

He coughs a little, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Aren't you a little cold? Your Pj’s are, um, small.”

You smile up at him innocently, standing up. “Maybe a little, but you're so warm.” You say, and plop down right in his lap. “There, problem solved.” You smile up at him and he smiles back tightly, hands automatically gripping your hips and adjusting you slightly.

You feel your pussy throb at that unexpected show of strength. You're going to go insane if one of your hot sudo family members doesn't fuck you this instant.

So you ramp it up.

Pretending to be cold, you move backward, jostling around on his lap intentionally. He grunts a little, hands on your waist making butterflies flutter in your stomach.

\You're winning though, you can tell when you move a little too much, and your but brushes up against something big and hard. He winces, opening his mouth to apologize, but his words dissolve in his throat as you grind down, head falling against his shoulder.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks, “We should stop.”

You grind your core directly on his length and you both groan. His hands move your hips, grinding them against him. He speaks again. “Tell me to stop.”

You can see the guilt in his eyes, the turmoil that wars within him so you shut him up with a kiss.

“Chris. Fuck me.”

He tries to resist, you feel him brace to pull away, and so you move falling backward off the couch and pulling him with you as you crash to the floor. If you were less horny you would appreciate how he protects the back of your head as you fall, but at this moment you just need his hands on you, his lips on your own, his cock inside you—

So you reach up, sealing your lips in a kiss. He kisses back immediately, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. The kiss is wild, passionate, and hungry, weeks of pent-up lust and longing culminating in this very moment.

He practically devours your mouth, hands ripping your pretty pj set in his hast as he rips it off. You whine in protest and he pulls away, kissing down your body. “Don't worry baby girl, I'll buy you another.”

Your core clenches at that nickname and you grip his hair, forcing his face down. He obliges, his hot breath teasing your wet core. His voice is a growl when he speaks. “So wet for me. Do you want my cock that much?”

You whine, bucking helplessly into the air. “Yes, want Daddy's cock.”

He chuckles, planting a sweet kiss on your clothed core as you writhe with need. “Such a pretty slut for Daddy.”

You whine and he finally pulls your panties aside, diving into your pussy like a man starved. The sounds that leave your mouth are sinful, moans and pants of his name ring off the walls of the living room.

You're so distracted you don't hear the sound of the front door slamming, Felix’s carefree humming as he makes his way down the hall, headphones blaring.

𝄑𝄑𝄑

Felix felt guilty that he couldn't watch that movie with you, but the school called and his professor offered him a chance he simply couldn't turn down.

As he arrived home, however, headphones glued to his head, he practically skipped up the path, Happy to see you. He slammed the door open, closing it just as loudly and tromping down the hall, towards the kitchen. He was hungry, there were probably some leftovers in the fridge. He opened the door to the living room and froze, not believing his eyes.

There you were, spread out on the carpet, naked. And that was his dad between your legs.

Felix froze. He couldn't believe this.

He had never been so jealous of somebody in his life.

It had started years ago when he had met you, to be honest. You were sweet and kind and irresistible to his teenage mind. And you liked prancing around the house in skimpy little crop tops and shorts and Felix was only a man. You were touchy too, always pressed against him and in his lap, and Felix had spent many a night huddled in his bed frantically jerking off as quietly as possible.

He still remembered that one time your little family had decided to go to the beach. Felix had suffered a lot that day, doing his best to not get hard as you pranced around the beach in that cute bathing suit, dragging him around as you usually did. And then you had asked him to put sunscreen on your back.

Felix might have died and gone to heaven that day.

It had only gotten worse and worse, and you got your heart broken by the jerks you dated. Felix knew he could have treated you so much better than those jerks, but he had accepted being there for you as you cried over those assholes, ignoring the throbbing in his chest and groin and comforting you the best he could.

But then you had returned home from boarding school. Felix had thought you couldn't get more pretty than you already were, but you had. Your figure had filled out and you had become more confident. Your clothes had become skimpier and your legs longer and everything about you was just meant to taunt him.

You were irresistible, and he knew his dad was feeling your effect too, but to walk into this.

Felix watched guiltily, his stomach roiling with jealousy and arousal and you gripped his dad's hair, bucking wilding into his face. He stumbled back, crashing into a coat rack. Your eyes shot up, meeting him and he looked away guiltily.

He hurriedly bowed, stuttering out an apology, but you stopped the flow of words, crooking a finger at him. He stared at you in disbelief, and you nodded. He bounded over, ever the happy puppy and you turned over, on your hands and knees, presenting your ass to your daddy. He grinned at you, as Felix gripped your chin, kissing you sweetly as he fiddled with the zipper on his pants. You helped him, releasing him from the prison his pants had become.

Your mouth watered. How was it possible for a cock to be pretty? He was large as well and you stuck our tongue out, giving it a hesitant lick. He groaned and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, gagging around his girth.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to his cock as his hands lodged themselves in your hair controlling your movements. You were so distracted you forgot about Chris, right up until you felt a hot heat brushing against your entrance.

Chris chuckled darkly, the head of his cock nudging the walls of your pussy apart as he spears you open. You moan helplessly around Felix’s cock as he bottoms out, his cock impossibly deep in you.

His voice is a rasp when he speaks. “Look at you, a perfect little slut for Daddy. Taking your step-brother's cock so good.” You clench and he laughs. “You like that?”

He begins to move, long harsh thrusts that you feel in your gut, and Felix begins to fuck your face as well. You feel used, like a perfect little fuckdoll.

You love every minute of it.

Chris leans over you, grunting those sexy words into your ear. “Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well, like you were made for us.”

Felix’s pretty moans tangle with your own, creating a symphony of wounds. Felix speaks his voice full of wonder, “She’s so pretty, so perfect for us.”

Chris chuckles, slapping your ass as Felis whimpers.

You feel so full and perfect, your stomach pulsing with heat as you moan around Felix helplessly, trying to communicate with them. Felix speaks, his voice throaty. “I think she's cumming.”

Chris speeds up his thrusts. “You cumming around daddy’s cock you dirty girl?”

You moan helplessly and he chuckles, landing a harsh slap on your ass. “Felix, fuck her face. She likes it rough.” He nods, and obeys, gripping your cheeks and fucking you roughly. It's so unlike your sweet Felix, the kind boy with the sunshine smile, it makes you clench around Chris’s cock one more time.

Chris feels it and his thrusts falter. “You want Daddy’s cum?” You nod helplessly, tears streaming down your face, muffled moans

He flicks your clit and you come, screaming around Felix’s cock as he cums down your throat with a pretty moan. Chris grunts as he cums inside you, his thick cum dripping out of your hole as he pulls out. Felix lets your head fall forward, petting your hair as he pulls his still-hard cock out of your mouth.

He looks up at his dad, “Can I have a turn?”

You whimper in response, pushing him down and sinking down on his length, Chris’s cum dripping out of your pussy. You both moan as he bottoms out, the stretch of a cock burning ever so slightly as he bucks up into you.

Big dick jeans run in the family it seems.

You hear footsteps and Chris grips your hair roughly, pulling your face up to look at him. Felix grips your hips and begins to fuck you down on him and you moan as Chris speaks again. “Do you like being used, pretty girl? You like being our obedient little fucktoy?”

At your moan of acceptance, he chuckles, dropping your head and coming back around. You squeal as his fingers come in contact with your other hole, prying it open as he spits inside. Felix pulls you down into a kiss, still hammering inside you as his tongue fucks your mouth. Chris lines up his cock with your ass and without so much as a warming, bottoms out. You scream, overwhelming amounts of pain and pleasure rocking you.

You don't think you've ever taken so many large cocks at the same time.

Chris grunts, slapping your ass as he begins to thrust and matches pace with Felix as he grunts out, “Such a good little girl. Taking Daddy’s cock better than your mother ever did.”

You clench around him shamefully at the mention of your mother, your pride souring. He chuckles as Felix swallows your moans.

“I've wanted to fuck you since you got back, Felix too. You're so irresistible, baby girl.”

Your fingers are drawing scratches in Felix’s freckled back as you clutch him tightly, Moaning up a storm as two cock drill into you, rendering you dumb and speechless.

You almost feel like they're fucking your brain out, and you clench around them, feeling that ever-present coil in your stomach tightens.

Felix moves his hands, letting his dad control your hips and using them instead on your boobs, his lith fingers working magic on your hard nipples. You reward him by sucking hickeys into his pretty neck and he does the same, whimpering out your name as he bucks into you. You can tell he's going to cum and you are so close, almost there.

They both speed up their thrusts and Felix moves his hand, his fingers drawing small fast circles on your clit. With an embarrassingly loud moan, you cum, falling back onto Felix’s chest with a pant.

Felix follows shortly after, pumping his cum into your greedy pussy. His dad follows not long after, with an unfairly attractive grunt.

He pulls out, and you feel their mixed seed dripping out of your fluttering holes, down your legs and onto the carpeted floor of the livingroom, dirtying your mothers favorite rug.

Felix hoists you up, carrying you upstairs and settling you gently on his bed, stroking your hair as they clean you up.

There's a lot that needs to be talked about, but for now, you pull them down with you, cuddling up with them as you drift off, surrounded by the people who care about you.

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-05-29

reposted to tumblr on 2023-06-08

#stray kids smut #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #lee felix x reader #felix lee #skz smut #mariannacrxss

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wyattjohnston · 1 year

Text

take my hand, baby - brock boeser

series: take you one day at a time

summary: the lead up to the 2023 trade deadline is a little chaotic.

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2,342

The rumours had been flying for months, a long off-season of potential trade rumours and articles about moving him being the solution to the Canucks cap-space woes—Annie checked every notification on her phone in case it was the one that sealed their fate.

At the beginning of the season it had been devastating but understandable, knowing that Brock was unlikely to see out the season in Vancouver—that even if he did, Bo probably wouldn’t.

It became a lot less understandable a month into the season when Annie stared down at the positive pregnancy test while Brock was in the middle of a weeklong road trip up the east coast.

“I should have waited until he got home. Right, Coolie?” Annie asked as he started to hover around her legs. She scratched him behind the ears. “I should definitely tell him first but probably not on the phone. You have to promise to keep it a surprise.”

Coolie woofed and Annie took it as agreement before he trotted out of the room to tell Milo.

She tapped the stick against the edge of the sink a few times as she tried to work out what was really going through her mind. She didn’t feel the fear she once had, having the word ‘pregnant’ staring back up at her, which was a relief in and of itself. Most of her worry came from having to keep her mouth shut until she saw Brock again.

Annie smiled at her reflection in the mirror, a gentle laugh bubbling from her lips.

The test didn’t leave Annie’s mind once over the next four days; it made talking to Holly almost impossible, a lovely combination of secret keeping and her mind wandering to the test—to the future.

In a moment of weakness, unable to just keep the news between her and the dogs, Annie whispered it into Tulsa’s ear while Holly was distracted by Gunnar. At seven months old, Tulsa obviously had no idea what she was being told, but it settled something in Annie to say it out loud to another human.

“They’re going to be a little younger than you,” Annie said, bouncing Tulsa up and down on her knee, “but I hope you’re best friends.”

Holly had been none-the-wiser.

In their many phone calls before he came home, Brock remained unaware that Annie was keeping anything from him. He noted on more than one occasion that she sounded happy and she just shrugged and said it had been a good week.

It was still early in the afternoon when Brock got home, a benefit of time zones counteracting long flights, and Annie was lounging on their outdoor sofa, Coolie stretched out over her legs and Milo cuddled up into her side. Neither dog did anything more than lift their heads when the back door slid open and Brock walked out.

Annie never got sick of seeing him.

“I thought you’d be working,” he said, smiling fondly at the sight and leaning down to kiss her before he scratched both dogs behind the ears thoroughly.

“I scheduled it off when your schedule came out and I found out they’d shipped you off for ten days.”

He laughed, making room for himself on the couch—Coolie was unimpressed by the disruption but settled back into Brock’s lap. Annie had to find space on his lap around Coolie, but she managed.

Brock said, “You just had me home for like three weeks; you should be sick of me.”

“You weren’t supposed to fuck up your hand again, so I couldn’t prepare around that,” Annie said, tersely, still unhappy that he’d been put in the line up so soon after his surgery. She wasn’t unhappy with him—knowing all too well that if you give a hockey player the choice, they’ll say they’re fine to play—just at the organisation for letting him.

“I don’t want to talk about hockey.” Brock sighed heavily and Annie didn’t blame him. It had been a poor road trip—2 wins in 5 games—and only exacerbated the loss record while Brock was on the ice. He had 2 wins in 11 games.

It was as good a time as any, Annie figured. Her heartbeat was getting quicker and quicker, the anticipation growing with every second she waited. It would lift his mood, too, she was sure of it.

So, she asked, giddily, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Is Holly pregnant again?”

“No, Holly’s not pregnant,” Annie said. “I am.”

“What’s the secr—wait, Annie.”

She was sure his eyes had never been that wide, that his expression had never been happier—it certainly hadn’t in the last year. He reached out for Annie desperately, jostling both the dogs off the couch, and there was no time wasted in her climbing into his lap.

“It’s why I’ve been so happy this week,” she said into the top of Brock’s head.

His face was buried into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her straddle over his lap was rather awkward but he was holding her so close that moving was out of the occasion, it didn’t matter, really, when everything else felt positively euphoric.

“Holy shit, Annie, I love you so much.”

His voice was watery and she could feel his tears on her skin, holding him closer was no hardship—especially not when she was beginning to cry herself.

As much as Annie didn’t want to move, she did have to clamber off Brock’s lap because the feeling in her legs started to disappear. Brock was reluctant but he stood up with her, cupping her face and kissing her breathlessly.

“Who have you told?” he asked, not sounding like he’d be upset by any answer she gave. She was certain nothing could ruin the blissful expression on his face.

“You. The dogs. Tulsa. I only peed on a stick; I haven’t even told a doctor yet.”

“This is—this is unreal, Annie,” he said, just before he kissed her again. Her legs were getting weaker with every kiss. “Should we get married?”

“I don’t need to be married. If you want to be married then we can but we can do this without a wedding.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet to spin her around. The commotion caused the dogs to bark and start chasing Annie’s feet, but Brock didn’t let her down.

Annie wasn’t even supposed to be in Florida with them.

About a week before the All-Star break, something had clawed at her and told her she needed to be there with them, so she re-arranged her plans to go to Disney World with her brother, his wife and their two kids:

While six months pregnant.

Brock had let it happen because of that fact, and told her to change his plans, too.

It became clear on the 30th of January exactly what that clawing feeling had been.

It was just the two of them at the hotel, Annie barely made it out of the room before retreating back inside and going back to bed and Bo having left early because of the calls he was getting.

Annie didn’t even know until Bo knocked on her door, waking her up and asking to be let in. The dejected look on his face let her know right away what had transpired during her nap.

“Want to know where I’m going?” he asked, tapping his phone against his hand.

“I guess.”

“Islanders.”

The bottom fell out of Annie’s stomach as a map of North America flew into her mind, drawing a thick red line between Vancouver and New York. That was something to deal with later.

“It’s January,” Annie chose to settle on. “Why the fuck are they trading anybody in January?”

“I don’t know, Ann.”

She stared at him, the map not leaving her mind. It was so far, further than he’d ever been before, and that in and of itself was terrifying.

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she said, furious at the tears welling up in her eyes, “but I’m going to because you’re supposed to be here for me and here after this baby’s born and Holly is supposed to help me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I’ve never been able to do anything without you.”

Her hands settled over her ever-growing and ever-present bump as she spoke. It had been a smooth pregnancy, all things considered—aside from some lethargy and the first trimester morning sickness, she had nothing to complain about.

It wasn’t even the birthing part she was particularly scared of.

The part that worried her the most was not having anyone around to help her—through the birth or the newborn stage. The part that was coming true in front of her eyes.

“You don’t need me,” Bo assured her, his hands on her shoulders as he stared her down in the most aggressively fond way. “If you need Holly, she’ll come back. You know that. And you have Brock, who is arguably the most important person you’re going to need.”

Annie huffed, childishly stomping her foot, “He’s going to be traded, too, so who the fuck knows.”

Bo sat her down on the bed, looking down at her as she imagined he did to Gunnar when he was getting a talking to. He told her, “If Brock does get traded, you’re not staying in Vancouver. You’ve told me all the plans you’ve got in case you have to move at the deadline.”

It was the truth, as difficult as she knew it would be. The contingencies had been in place almost since they found out, what with the trade rumours amping up with every passing day.

“If any old man in the league had any fucking decency maybe they would have traded him today when I’m six months pregnant and less fucking stressed.”

“Less stressed,” Bo laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that what you call this?”

Annie glared, her mouth pulling tight and her eyebrows doing the same. She stood, poked Bo in the chest and said, “I’m going to kick everybody’s ass between Vancouver and fucking Brooklyn. Including yours.”

Nobody had expected Annie’s baby bump to get quite so round. Holly had made a point of telling Annie that it wouldn’t get too big purely because Annie was small—in height and weight. Nobody she knew was making too many comments about it, but strangers passing on the street had no issue asking her when she was due because it must have been any moment. The looks on their faces when Annie said, through gritted teeth, that she was barely seven months along and they should mind their own business was only just enough to get her through.

Pregnancy had turned her into a stress eater, which may have been contributing to the unexpected size, and in the days leading up to the trade deadline she was eating more and more because she was trying to internalise her own stresses to avoid exacerbating Brock’s.

Up until four or five days before ethe deadline, it was impossible to separate Brock from his phone; every single buzz sent him reaching for it lightning fast only to be met with another, entirely unrelated trade, or somebody in his family’s group chat sending a cute photo. The idea of hiding his phone had tempted Annie more than once but she knew better than to add the stressing of missing anything to the mix.

Things died down in the final few days before the deadline, all the big trades were seemingly done and Brock had been promised that he was in Vancouver to stay; Annie didn’t trust those promises but they made Brock lighter and more carefree so she wouldn’t tell him what she thought.

The night before the deadline—the 2nd of March, on the back of a loss against Minnesota where not even his power play goal could take out the sting—Annie greeted Brock at the door.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Brock said when he saw her, putting an end to the sneaking he’d been attempting.

“Slept all day in case you were up all night. Didn’t want you to be alone,” she said softly. She took his suit jacket from his arms and kissed him.

“You need sleep,” Brock argued as he wrapped her up and shuffled her out of the doorway. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“I can try.”

Brock’s smirk showed that he didn’t believe she could do it, so Annie settled on making him lie down with her in the hope that she could coax him into some rest.

He didn’t seem to be overly caught up in the deadline being so soon, happy to just lie beside her and stifle a laugh as she did her best to shuffle closer to him, inevitably neding some assistance to move the pillow that was supporting her bump but when the only thing between them was her stomach, she put her arm over his stomach and watched him with soft eyes as she started talking to him about their baby names shortlist.

Annie couldn’t say what time she fell asleep, or how long it took Brock to after her, but by the time they woke up Annie knew it was late. When she opened her eyes, unimpressed by the light that was filtering into the room from the poorly drawn blinds, Brock was smiling at her peacefully.

“What’s the time?” she asked, her voice hoarse and muffled by the pillow.

“Just before noon. I think I’m safe. We’re safe.”

A smile grew so large on Annie’s face that her cheeks started to hurt within seconds—somehow, through sheer willpower, she threw herself on top of Brock and started kissing his face. Brock’s arms tightened around her, keeping her secure on top of him, just letting the kisses happen.

“This means I win.”

“Win what?”

“Our baby is going to be so Canadian.”

tag list: @fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @guesswhoispathetic @laurenairay @jarmorie @p1nkbarbi3

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#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #take you one day at a time fic #fic: canucks

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jadedjane · 4 months

Text

fulfilling fate

higuruma x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader

cw - angst, character death, mild gore, breakups, complex emotions, lack of context, not proofread, higuruma and nanami are somewhat OOC

tags - higuruma x reader , nanami x reader, nanami angst, higuruma angst, reader death, jjk angst, jjk x reader

an: my first fic on this site. wrote this because i feel shitty (about recent manga chapters, anime eps, and life in general) and trying to sleep. expect some sloppy writing

"Hiromi…"

Higuruma held the body closer, almost embracing it, smearing blood all over himself. She felt ominously cold to his touch, her graying complexion a stark contrast to the tanned skin tone of his.

He pressed his hand harder into the side of her neck, desperate to find more than her weakening pulse.

"Hang in there, okay? We're getting out of here. Ijichi's coming to-"

"Sorry…" she drawled, almost a whisper.

"No, no. Nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault. Look at me, please," he held her even tighter, as if trying to give her a portion of his life force. Fear and desperation gripped him as he felt her weight growing heavier by the second.

"Listen to me, you need to make it out of this alive. You need to fight, please."

A single, blood-stained tear rolled out her glassy eyes. Her labored breathing had quietened into soft, shallow huffs. Higuruma choked on a sob, feeling the heat rush to his head as his eyes welled with tears.

"There's someone here," he muttered, gaze fixed upon her dimming eyes.

"You've always wanted to see him again," he continued, hand instinctively wiping the blood off her cheek and the corner of her lip.

An ominous silence filled the air.

Higuruma shuddered, mouth dry as he forced out his next words. "Nanami… Nanami Kento's here."

"Higuruma-"

"Kento's here. Please say something. Please," he pleaded to the dark, empty eyes staring blankly into the space above him.

"Y/N? Don't do this to me," the last syllable came out a whine at the crack of his voice. Desperation painted across his face as he shook the limp body in his arms. "Answer me. Say something! Nanami, talk to her. Talk to her and she'll answer you-"

"No. Stop it."

An anguished sob ripped through the chilly silence. Higuruma's grasp on the corpse unrelenting as he cradled it, facing the music, allowing himself to grief the person he only had the chance to love for a short while.

Before him stood the man who loved her much longer than Higuruma ever did.

If only he didn't leave.

Nanami stood frozen in place. The man who was usually in action, always knew what to do in a crisis, suddenly reduced to a mere spectator of the grotesque scene, wherein the love of his life lay dying in the arms of another man.

His mind replaying scenes from the past few months. Scenes of her growing frustrated during that one discussion that went sour. Her defeated cries as she pleaded with him to stay. Her angry screamings as he walked out the door.

He remembered how it felt then. How he forced himself to not think about the good times with her. How he tried to reason with himself that it was for her own good.

For her happiness. So much for happiness.

Nanami watched as the younger guys, Ino and Yuuji rushed to console the devastated Higuruma. He could barely hear Haibara's voice next to him, asking if he's okay.

He let the guilt eat away at him.

If only he didn't leave.

If only he'd stayed, she wouldn't have to face this thing alone. He'll be by her side, keeping her safe like he'd always wanted. If only he'd stayed, he wouldn't have roped in such a good man like Higuruma into this undeserving situation.

If only he'd stayed, and fulfilled the grim fate that was meant for him.

#nanami kento #higuruma hiromi #higuruma angst #nanami angst #higuruma x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #reader death

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smartycvnt · 8 months

Text

Run to You

Title: Run to You Pairing: Matt Jackson x Reader Prompt: 1. Hesitant kisses, but when they part one whispers "Do it again. Please." R WC: 1112

Y/n sighed as she once again reminded herself that Matt didn't want her. It was harder and harder to resist Matt's charm, especially whenever she watched him with the younger wrestlers. Y/n had been a "local talent" for WWE, and it was nothing like being one for AEW. Sure, at the end of the day, they were still jobbers, but AEW gave the locals a chance to shine. They had time to work one-on-one with Nick, Matt, Kenny, and whoever else was willing to spare a few moments of their day. Y/n could see as the young tag team that the Bucks would be facing later in the night soaked in every word that it meant the world to those guys. Y/n knew what it could be like to work with your heroes, and luckily, Matt and Nick were the kind of guys that made sure it was a good experience for everyone involved.

"Alright, you guys get some rest. Nick and I will be here if you need anything!" Matt called out as he started walking towards Y/n. Almost immediately he began to tense up a little and become more serious. Y/n didn't blame him, her new position within the company placed her ahead of him on the chain of command. Everybody got a little nervous whenever they noticed Y/n watching them with her clipboard in hand. "Uh oh, what's changing on the show tonight?"

"Nothing is changing on tonight's show to my knowledge, although I did talk Tony out of a few matches for the next Pay Per View, so you're welcome. I just wanted to know if maybe one of the Young Bucks had some time to spare in a few months," Y/n said. Matt glanced down at Y/n with a puzzled look on his face. She had hoped that he would have understood what she needed to ask him without making her actually say it. Y/n was terrified that the moment she actually asked for a partner, her test results would come back and show that she couldn't actually go into the match. "I need a partner for my retirement match."

"Retirement match?" Slowly, it dawned on Matt that Y/n would be getting back in the ring. She had gotten hurt more times than anybody Matt knew, but she had still pushed through. Her body was screaming at her to just call it quits, but Y/n wanted this last match more than anybody. Matt knew that, and that was why Matt fully understood what an honor it was for him to be the one who Y/n asked first to be her partner. "Absolutely, just tell me where to be and when."

"Thank you." Y/n didn't bother being professional as she threw herself into Matt's arms. Matt wrapped his arms around Y/n's body and breathed in her scent. His heart ached with the notion that he had missed his time to be with her. Still, he pushed the pain away because being there for Y/n was much more important to Matt. He knew how devastated Y/n was about cutting her career so short, and if she really was leaving the business completely at the end of the year, Matt wanted to give her a good send-off.

"When you asked for a partner, I thought we'd be tagging together," Matt chuckled as he fixed his gear. After some very tearful talks, Y/n had agreed to let Kenny and Nick go out with him. The wrestlers that Y/n had gotten closest to in her career hadn't been able to make it, but Y/n was still happy with her escorts to the ring. Allysin Kay and Allie had been Y/n's backbone whenever she was a knockout. Impact hadn't been the best to her, but they had still been more fair than WWE. They had allowed her to have a bit more say in how her character acted.

"This is much more fun Matty," Y/n teased. Matt rolled his eyes as his music hit. The crowd sang along and went absolutely wild for him and the rest of The Elite. They had gone the route of announcing Matt for the match with a mystery opponent for a "loser leaves pro wrestling" match. Y/n thought it was the perfect way to go out, especially since the matches that Y/n was most proud of had been either alongside or against Matt Jackson. Once the crowd had died down, Y/n's original entrance song of Loser by Beck started to play. There was a bit of cheering, but it was mostly confused silence until Y/n walked out with her friends.

Sentimental words were saved for the end of the match, after the blood and carnage had already happened. Matt was terrified throughout the match that Y/n pushing herself too hard, but he kept those thoughts to himself. By the end of it when Matt got the pin, Y/n looked like a broken and bloody mess. Matt sheltered Y/n's body for a few seconds than necessary, and when he started to pull back, Y/n kept her arms wrapped around the back of his neck. She leaned her forehead against him, neither of them caring that Y/n was still bleeding from a cut on her temple. Neither one of them was sure who moved first, but a tentative peck of a kiss was shared between the two of them. The next little kiss was more than that, and Y/n was the one to go for it that time.

"Do it again. Please," Matt muttered as Y/n started to pull back. She moved off of his lap and offered him a hand. She held his arm up in the air as the crowd cheered for his victory. Matt looked down at her with a sad look on his face as wrestlers poured in from backstage. Y/n couldn't stop smiling as she looked at the outpouring of love and support. It emboldened her to go for another kiss. This time, Matt was ready for it. He cradled her face and kissed her passionately. Matt was intent on keeping the kiss going until Nick and Kenny separated the two of them. Words of love and respect for Y/n before the night was over. When it was all said and done, Y/n cleaned herself up and found herself back at AEW the next week back in her suit with her clipboard. She didn't want to give everything up just because she couldn't be in the ring anymore.

#my writing #matt jackson x reader #aew #aew x reader #matt jackson

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

Text

Summer of '85

Season One | Season Two | Season Three

[Raining Hellfire: Season Three]

Word Count: 3533 words

Warnings: swearing, creepy men, heartbreak, honestly I was very tame with this

[A/N: Ahh! The start to a new season of Raining Hellfire! I am so excited to be writing this season as it's my absolute favourite. I hope you're all prepared for what's to come cause I really didn't hold back with the angst in this series. Anyways, enjoy loves x]

Summer of '85

The summer after you graduated was meant to be the best time of your life.

You had everything planned out in your head; you’d graduate, go to California, attempt to get custody of your sister, and then move far, far away from everything. But that plan was interrupted when Max surprised you by moving to Hawkins. It was even starting to shred once you fell for Eddie Munson.

Which led to a back-up plan; to graduate with your boyfriend and travel together, take a year away before deciding anything. That plan was pulled to a devastating stop once you broke up.

So, inevitably, you didn’t have a plan for after graduation.

Which is how you ended up working as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool.

“Y/n, you’re up next.”

Heather’s sweet voice snapped you out of your day dream. With a smile, you thanked her and grabbed a towel to head toward your station, red whistle swinging as you walk past the families enjoying their sunny day at the pool.

Your job wasn’t too bad. In all honesty, you thought it would be harder work than it actually was. You spent a month training and yet, no one has ever needed ‘saving’. Sometimes you’d get a group of boys pretending to need help but you found that their attention span caused them to bore of their own antics after a few seconds, leading them to go about their day upset that you didn’t pay attention to them.

As you climbed up the small ladder and hopped into your seat, you relaxed. You figured you’d gotten lucky with your job choice, especially after hearing Steve complain so much about scooping ice-creams all day in the new mall. There wasn’t really anything about this job that you hated.

“Hey, Billy.” A girl swooned nearby and you lower your glasses, following the girl’s gaze.

As soon as you saw the guy walk out of the pool house, you rolled your eyes, slipping your shades back on and focusing on the pool.

For the hundredth time this week, Billy had to make his grand entrance for all his adoring fans. It was almost comical to see all the married mothers swoon at the sight of a younger man with his shirt off. You were just grateful that you had broken out of the Billy Hargrove trance a long time ago.

He had applied for the job around about the same time as you, but it wasn’t to spite you. In fact, he looked very surprised when you had showed up for your first day of work, uniform and all. If this had happened a year ago, you would have been in hell everyday knowing that Billy was your colleague.

But you both pretty much kept to yourselves, sometimes having a quick conversation in your breaks but other than that, you only ever saw him in between shifts. There wasn’t any bad blood between you two anymore.

“Well, hello there.”

You brought your gaze down to meet the face behind the rough voice, finding a middle-aged man leaning his hand against the ladder as he gawked up at you. You were already gritting your teeth, too used to the creepy men that would constantly hit on you and Heather.

“Can I help you, sir?” You did your best to be polite, shifting in your seat.

“I just can’t seem to imagine how a community pool managed to hire such a beautiful model like yourself.”

You resisted the urge to puke.

“Do you need anything?” You ask again, fully aware that if you even tried to defend yourself, he would report you and you’d be out of a job.

“Well…” He looked up at you, licking his lips. His hand was dangerously close to your leg now. He inched it a little further before someone pushed it away.

“Excuse me, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?” Billy’s face looked nice enough but his words were venomous.

“I…” The man squinted his eyes at him before backing away, “I was just leaving, actually.”

In the distance, you could hear a woman calling for him and you shake your head. Another married man.

“Thanks.” You sighed, pushing your shades on top of your head and looking down at Billy.

“Anytime.” He walked away, continuing his march past the ladies that caught his attention and you almost laughed.

Billy was constantly scaring off gross men for you, only ever needing a stare. It was sick to know that men would only ever back down if another man said to. They never listen to the women.

You thought you’d never admit that you were pleased to know that Billy was there.

“Hey, Y/n.” Heather bounced up to you, a smile on her face and you laughed in surprise.

“What’s up?”

“Your shift is over.” She grinned and you furrowed your brows.

“But I’ve still got another hour-” You try, shaking your head but she just squeals.

“They’re closing the pool early today for cleaning so we all get shorter shifts.” She laughed, motioning for you to get down.

You were almost sceptical until you saw the maintenance crew file into the pool house, your manager hanging up signs across the pool.

“Thank god. It’s like the hottest day of the year.” You groan, slipping your sunglasses back down once you step out of the shade.

Heather had a bubbly personality, one you had lost a while ago. She was always cheerful, even when she has to work extra shifts. Since you two were the only female lifeguards, she had instantly latched onto you, constantly telling you the gossip and sharing little jokes that you never truly understood but you appreciated none-the-less.

It was nice, having a friend at the place you worked, especially since your best friend chose another job despite already being a trained lifeguard. Neither of you ever spent time outside of work though. You were only friends if you were at the pool and weirdly enough, you were more than okay with that.

“Anyways, go have fun doing… whatever you do.” She said cheerily, taking her place in the chair. You shook your head in amusement as you walked back to the pool house, ignoring the unsettling gaze from your previous visitor.

As you start pulling on your jeans, leaving the swimsuit underneath considering how scorching hot it was outside, you over hear a familiar voice arguing at the front desk.

“Do I look like I want to rent out a pool noodle? No. I want to see-”

The words were cut off as soon as you poked your head around the corner, a smile stretching onto their lips before they turned back to the boy working the desk.

“Thanks for nothing.”

You laughed, sending an apology to your co-worker as you walked out of the building with the exasperated red-head.

“You said you were working late today!” Max complained, hands on her hips as she followed you to your car.

“Then why were you shouting at poor Freddy?” You question, slipping into the car and blaring the AC for all it was worth.

“I wanted to see if I could bail you out of it.” Max shrugged, rooting through your glove box and trying on various sunglasses.

“That’s sweet and- hey, those aren’t yours.” You snatched away the shades and shoved them back into the box, snapping it shut. “I thought I gave you money to buy your own?”

“The stupid boys want to go to the mall again today.” She rolled her eyes, slumping in her seat as you started the car.

As a graduation present, your uncle had found an old car and refurbished it for you. You had insisted he should sell it and use the money for more important things but, as it turns out, stubbornness runs in the family.

“So? Make them pay for stuff if they’re so obsessed with that place.” You suggest, driving away from the pool and toward the infamous mall.

You drove in comfortable silence before you realised.

“Okay, why are you in my car?” You frown and Max laughs, causing a smirk to appear on your face from the sound.

“I was wondering when you’d notice.” She shook her head, glancing at the stereo. “Can we play some music?”

“Sure.” You sigh, trying to ignore the fact that she avoided your question. “A free ride to Starcourt it is.”

The car started blaring Journey’s Separate Ways and she groaned.

“Do you ever listen to anything else?” She said but she sat back, bopping her head along to the beat.

Soon, you pulled up to Starcourt Mall, heading to the employee parking since there was always a space for you. You both clambered out of the car and headed inside, ready to be blinded by the luminescent lights.

The Starcourt Mall was built just in time for the summer, opening up jobs for graduates and anyone else searching. It also meant that people were starting to lose their jobs, the older stores you were all so used to slowly going out of business, unable to compete. It was one of the reasons you refused to work there. Your uncle was already struggling with his mechanic business as it was.

“Ugh, they’re over there.” Max stated, crossing her arms and you turned to see Lucas, Will and Mike stood impatiently by the escalators.

“Come on.” You gave her a playful shove and headed towards the party.

“Y/n!” Will smiled and you pulled him into a hug.

“Hello, ladies.” Lucas smirked, leaning against the escalator before almost being dragged upwards with it.

“Weirdo.” Max simply said, making you laugh. But she stood by his side regardless, smiling at him and you felt happy for them.

They had made things official after the Snow Ball. It didn’t mean that they weren’t constantly on and off, though. It got annoying at times, hearing how much Max ‘hated’ Lucas and boys altogether, only for the next day to consist of her telling you how sweet Lucas was. You knew they’d always end up together in the end. The way they looked at eachother… that was something special.

“You guys doing anything fun?” You ask, looking to Mike.

“We’re probably heading to the arcade.” He shrugged before smiling at you, “You gonna join us this time?”

Max looked to you with pleading eyes and you winced.

“Sorry guys, I was going to-”

“See Steve, we know.” They all chorused, stepping onto the escalators and breaking into natural conversation.

You frowned all the way to Scoops Ahoy, marching towards your best friend who was slumped against the counter, hand resting on his chin. He jumped as you slammed your hand on the table, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Am I predictable?” You speak before he gets the chance, gnawing on your bottom lip as you look out at the different brightly coloured shops.

“Uh… I feel like there’s only a wrong answer to this.” Steve hesitated, confused.

“I think I am.” You continue, too wrapped up in the Party’s words to even recognise he was there, “I mean, I do the exact same thing everyday now. I wake up, get dressed, head to work, finish work, come here, go home.”

“It does sound pretty predictable when you put it like that.” He shrugs and you groan, head on the counter.

“I hear misery!” A cheery voice sings through the counter’s divider.

The divider slides open and Robin pokes her head out with a smirk.

Let it be known that once Steve told you he’d be working with Robin Buckley, your old crush, you were very calm about it. So calm, in fact, that everyday you’ve spent at Scoops Ahoy was another day you and Robin became closer as friends. It turned out that you both had a lot in common, from movies to just general sarcasm. You didn’t have any of those feelings anymore, none that you had noticed anyway, and it’s been genuinely great having another close friend that you can just laugh with.

Steve, however, is convinced that there is something going on between you two. And it is the most irritating thing you can ever imagine.

“Oh.” Steve smiled, leaning back and glancing between you two, “Look, Y/n. Robin’s here.”

You lifted your head to send him a nasty side-eye, stretching yourself into a stand as you smiled back at the girl.

“Oh wow. I never would have seen her if you didn’t point it out.” You deadpan and Robin laughs, “Thank you so much, hair-head.”

“I guess his brilliant observation skills is what makes him such a good dingus.” Robin commented and it was your turn to laugh.

Steve crossed his arms looking between you both. “I hate you both.”

“Aw. Oh, look. More girls for you to flirt with.” You motion to the group of girls currently walking up to the counter and Steve immediately straightens, messing with his uniform before turning on his charm.

“Ahoy, ladies.” He says and you roll your eyes, grateful that Robin was motioning you to join her in the staff room.

It was a familiar routine now; Steve would be out front, desperately trying to get a date, while you and Robin hung out in the back, generally talking about nothing and everything.

“So, how’s the pool life?” Robin asks, eyebrows raised at your outfit. You look down, realising you hadn’t shoved on a jumper like you usually do.

“Ah, well, we finished early.” You nod, wincing, “Which is why I am dressed like a jazzercise instructor.”

She started laughing, clutching her stomach, “It’s a... good look.”

“Shut up!” You laugh, throwing her discarded sailor’s cap at her.

“Can either one of you idiots please help me out front?” Steve yells, slamming open the divider and glaring at you both.

“Y/n can do it.” Robin smirks and you make a sound of protest.

“I don’t even work here!”

“It’s the least you can do for distracting us from work all the time.” She comments with a sigh and you push her feet from off the table.

“Fine, if I’m not wanted-”

“Jesus, stop fighting!” Steve whined, glancing behind him to observe the customers, “We’re getting this huge queue and-”

He suddenly spins back around to face you, eyes wide, mouth shut.

“What just happened?” Robin asks, raising her brow and sitting up in her seat.

“I think his battery ran out.” You offer, earning a small snicker. “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be a baby about it, I’ll leave-”

“No!” Steve practically yells before clearing his throat, awkwardly positioning his body so it blocked your view beyond the divider, “I mean… what’s the rush? Just… chill.”

“We’re gonna need to rewire him.” Robin nods, standing up and shoving Steve out of the way with more strength than he was expecting, peering over the top. “Okay, so what do we have… here.”

She stilled her movements, sharing a look with Steve before turning back to you and clapping her hands together. “You know, Steve’s right. You work a lot so why not just… chill.”

You stand there for a moment, glancing between your two friends as something ticked away in your brain.

“Okay.” You shrug, walking back to your chair and hearing sighs of relief behind you.

“Cool.” Steve says, “We’ll just be-”

His train of thought was severely cut when you suddenly sprinted away from the chair, pushing through the door before either of them could react.

As you swung open the door and joined Steve outside, he immediately blocked your way, furiously shaking his head.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” You complain, having to jump to just catch a glimpse of what Steve was hiding from you. You never hated your height more than this moment.

“Trust me, just go back inside-”

Steve grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back through the door. But you manoeuvred your body so you could easily slip underneath his arms, side stepping away to finally walk around to the other side of the counter. You turned back around to see Steve staring at you, dumbfounded. He always forgot how stealthy you were.

“Ha!” You celebrate, leaning against the counter top as Robin joined you both. You finally remember what the whole game was about and you looked around at the scene behind you. “Now what were you trying to hide…”

Your voice trailed off as soon as you spotted the mystery. They weren’t trying to hide something from you. They were trying to protect you.

Sat in a corner booth was a couple, happily enjoying their ice creams. The girl, one you remembered from your English class, tossed her hair, giggling away at whatever joke was being told. Her smile was gorgeous, coated in shiny lip gloss and her perfectly manicured hand rested on top of another’s. She genuinely looked like she was having the time of her life. And why wouldn’t she?

That’s just the effect that Eddie Munson had.

Your breath hitched as you leant with your back against the counter, unable to tear your eyes away from the mane of messy curls. Even from this distance, you saw the familiar glint of his rings shining against the lights. You weren’t sure if you should feel angry or sad that the girl was currently fiddling with the small ring on his right hand. Your ring.

Tears stung your eyes as you forced yourself to turn away, hands planted on the counter as you pursed your lips.

“You okay?” Robin asked with a sympathetic voice, leaning over to you. Her approach was kindness, showing you that you weren’t alone.

Steve’s approach… was far different.

“You want me to throw them out?” Steve paced a little, arms folded against his chest as he stared daggers at the booth, “I’ll spill ice cream all over them. Or hot fudge, whatever works best.”

“We don’t have hot fudge.” Robin shakes her head, looking at your best friend with disbelief.

He just stared at her for a moment, jaw clenched. “Then I’ll find some.”

“Guys.” You catch their attention, taking a breath and looking to them with a small smile. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Steve takes a step towards you while an aggravated customer starts ringing the counter bell, “Yeah! Yeah, I see you. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You chuckle as he dismisses possibly one of the prettiest girls you’ve seen. “Yeah, I’m good. It’s been, what? Months? Yeah, months since we broke up so…”

“So… no hot fudge?” Steve raises his brow, looking slightly disappointed.

“Still don’t have any.” Robin mutters, sending a sarcastic smirk to the annoyed girl waiting to order.

“No hot fudge.” You nod, stepping away. “Anyway, I should, uh, get going.”

You start to move away when Steve jogs around the counter, grabbing your arm. “You sure? I get off work in like an hour, we could-”

“Steve.” You place your hand over his, gently pulling him off you, “I’m fine. And I mean it. Plus, I’m having dinner with Jack later and I really don’t want to miss it.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t get to spend that much time with your uncle.” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, but if you need anything-”

“I’ll call.” You smile, patting his shoulder. “Try not to set fire to the ice-cream.”

“That’s not even possible!” He yells out as you start to walk away.

“It will be if you bring hot fudge in here.” Robin comments and you laugh, turning the corner just as Steve protests.

You think you’re handling everything surprisingly well until you reach the fountain situated in the centre of the mall. You take a breath, stumbling into the sitting position as you perch yourself on the marble.

You knew Eddie would move on eventually. After all, that’s what you’re supposed to do. And neither of you had spoken to eachother since the Snow Ball. There wasn’t any hatred between you two so why were you so angry? Maybe a part of you just hated that he’s already dating and you hadn’t even had a fling much less a relationship since you parted. You just assumed it would be just as hard for him to move on as it was for you.

As you wallow in your own self pity, your eyes catch sight of something out of the ordinary. You were used to finding the odd pieces in a puzzle, thanks to the two years of monster-hunting embedded in your brain.

You watched as a man, somewhat middle aged, held a walkie to his mouth, uttering words that you couldn’t hear. He kept his head down, almost as if he was afraid that he wouldn’t be heard over mundane noises in the mall. But weirdly enough, there were no people around him.

The only sound you could hear from this side of the mall was the sing-song tune playing from the carousel horse he stood next to.

Eventually, he shoved the walkie into his pocket and spun around to grab a janitor’s mop and bucket. Only then did you realise he was wearing a uniform and you sighed, shaking your head.

What are the chances something went wrong in Hawkins a third time, anyway?

Chapter 1: Welcome Back ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

Text

Dear Eddie Part Two: Question?

Summary: after coming back from "the dead" Eddie adjusts to life as a dad

Warnings: slight smut, mentions of Eddie's quarantine trauma, scars, baby making, pregnancy tests, dad!Eddie

Word Count: 4.6k

Part 1 | Part Two | Part Three coming soon

Trying to tell their friends that Eddie was alive and back and just in hiding under the sheriffs recommendation was hard… they had more questions than anyone expected and Eddie does his best to beat around the bush and save face. Gareth doesn’t drop it for about a month, Dustin convinces Jeff early on and the new, younger members of hellfire who’ve heard so much about him over the years are just happy to meet him.

However, just as soon as they got him back, Eddie was telling them about his thoughts on moving out of Hawkins. He didn’t feel that safe here anymore, he’s already gotten a few looks and it didn’t matter that Police Chief Powell did a conference about his charges being dropped… the story changed a third time and it became town knowledge that he was a victim that also survived, much like Max Mayfield, it just took a while for him to heal.

Most people believed it, his new look really helped, too, he seemed like just a normal guy and people didn’t immediately recognize him… he still wanted to move.

It wasn’t just about him anymore, however, he had a son and a girlfriend with lives and friends and a whole support system they depended on in his absence. He couldn’t tear them away from that just so that he felt un-judged.

The weirdest part of Y/N’s life without him was how she shared a bedroom with Wayne… for 2 years the two of them had twin beds side by side, seeing as she slept all night while he was at work and then he slept all day while she was either at work or with the baby… it was how they lived in the tiny trailer all together and they loved it. He just thought it was a little weird and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous.

He wasn’t around for 2 years, Wayne’s not a bad-looking dude… Eddie’s heard him bring ladies home before, he knows he’s a good man, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ever got with him or wanted to while he wasn’t there… and he can’t say he blames her. If she needed some loving while he was away, who is he to tell her what was wrong? She deserved to always be loved.

He’s only been home a week, Jamie is asleep in the next room, they just finished cleaning up from the day and made their way back into the main bedroom and his mind couldn’t stop wondering when he sees the beds together yet again.

So he asks. “Did you sleep with Wayne?”

“Ew, oh my god?” She feels disgusted, trying to keep her voice down. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Your beds are pushed together?” He points at the two twins side by side.

“It’s a tiny room? We have separate blankets and schedules, we’ve never slept in here at the same time,” she confirms. “I would never fuck your uncle?”

“Okay,” he whispers, telling her to keep her voice down with just his eyes, “I’m sorry… I just, I didn’t expect you to know the truth about me being away and I always thought you’d move on from—

“You’re an idiot,” she doesn’t sugar coat it. “Buddy, I’ve been so in love with you this whole time I couldn’t sleep with anyone else if you paid me. I was devastated without you, it sent me into labour thinking you were dead. No one, nothing, not even my own two hands have touched me down there in your absence.”

His brows raise and his eyes grow impossibly wide, “seriously?”

She nods, eyes rolling with a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda don’t have the time or the interest, honestly. I mean… I didn’t…” she walks over to him carefully, hand on his chest as she looks up into his eyes, “you wanna make use of these beds being pushed together?”

“Oh, please?” He swoons, “I’ve wanted you every day for so long… I honestly don’t know a day where I didn’t want you.”

“What if…” she presses her lips together, searching for the words to say but they don’t follow. “Never mind. It’s crazy.”

“No, tell me?” He begs, brushing her hair back and cupping her face.

“What if we had another baby? What if you could be here for it this time and we can get that house you’ve been talking about, but we just go a bit north, not too far out of Hawkins, just closer to the boys while they’re in college?” She references his friends, who were now more her friends than anything.

“Yeah,” he’s on board right away. “I mean, I don’t know if it’ll work… I’ve been through a lot, but we can try?”

“What do you mean?”

“They did a million and one tests on me when I came back up to the real world,” he whispers. “I don’t know what that did to my swimmers…”

“Oh,” her face drops. “What kind of tests? Were you sick? Were they just scared you were exposed to something?”

“You haven’t seen it yet,” he whispers. “You don’t know how bad it was and I’m afraid to show you.”

“Show me,” it’s more of an order than a request. “What did they do to you?”

He steps back and raises his palms towards her, “be forewarned, it wasn’t the doctors. You know what Dustin told you about the upside down? It’s like Hawkins but dark and gross and awful and there are monsters down there… these horrific bat things swarmed me, they attacked me, they tried to eat me but it all worked like a hive mind so as soon as Nancy damaged the puppet master, they all died. And then I almost did.”

She stares at him like he has two heads, looking at all his already exposed skin— his neck, arms and face were all unharmed… “what did they do?”

He peels his shirt off carefully, the original wounds and skin graft surgery scars had healed a long time ago, “I’m thinking about tattooing a new nipple on,” he tries to make it funny. But it’s not. She doesn’t find it funny in the slightest. “I hate that they bit off my favourite nip.”

“Why didn’t they take Steve too?” She asks first over everything. “He was bit too, he told me about it. Dustin told me how you lost so much blood in his arms he couldn’t find a pulse that’s the only reason they left you down there but Steve must’ve been infected too if he was bit the way he described, why didn’t he get taken by the scientists?”

“It took them 3 days to come back for me,” he explains, revealing the harsh truth no one else clued her in on. She thought he was just down there for a few hours, she thought they brought him up and he was taken to the hospital right away…

“I was exposed to so much, like Will, and I had no one to negotiate the terms while I was unconscious unlike how he had his mom. And the lab. If I could’ve stayed here and just gone to the lab every few days for checkups I would’ve preferred that.”

“We all would’ve,” she feels angry. Like so much more than just time was stolen from them.

“I’m back now, though… and I would like to try if you still want to?”

“For another baby?” She softens right up. “Really?”

He nods, “I knew on my way to your last address that I wanted to pick up where we left off, I wanted to marry you and have babies with you in a town we’ve never been to before… but I think staying here and expanding the family we already have before getting married is still good.”

“Me too,” she steps back into his space and wraps her arms around his neck, chest to chest, “thats not me say yes either, big guy. You’ve still gotta ask.”

“I will,” he smiles, hands at her waist slowly making their way down to her hips. “Later,” and then her ass where he pulls her in tighter. “Sex hasn’t changed at all in the last 3 years, right?

She laughs, “as if I know? If I remember correctly, even without any experience you were still wonderful… I can just imagine what 2 years of thinking about me does.”

“Oh the thoughts I’ve had,” he picks her up and turns them towards the bed, tossing her down on the mattress as the two of them scramble to get up to the pillows before grabbing at each other again. She holds his face in her hands as he lunges for her lips, kissing her with so much passion and want.

Her hands wander down his neck, over his shoulders where his skin is so impossibly warm still. She lets her hands explore his skin, the new textures are interesting, but he’s still the same underneath it all.

She breaks the kiss to look at his chest, staring between them as she runs her fingers over the scar tissue, “I think it’s cool, and sexy, and proves just how strong you are.”

“Can I just be soft and loving tonight?” He asks completely earnestly. “I don't have it in me to pretend anymore.”

“Yeah,” it almost breaks her heart. “Let go, baby, you’re safe with me.”

—

Eddie gets a job at the rebuilt Star Court mall, he runs the record store with pretty good pay and decent hours, meaning she can take fewer shifts and watch Jamie more. They even start house hunting on Eddie’s day off, they have a favourite that they want to put a bid on, they just need Wayne to check it out too, seeing as he’s coming with them.

She wouldn’t even dream of continuing to raise her family without him, Papa Wayne is the best grandpa in the whole state. Today he wakes up a bit early before his shift so the three of them can go look at the house, and maybe hit the grocery store on their way home, Wayne will do anything for the chance to spoil his grandson with sweets.

He drives them out of town, Jamie in his car seat in the back, she keeps turning around to try and peak at him to make sure he’s safe and okay, Wayne eventually places his hand on her kneecap and rubs his thumb on her gently. “He’s fine, what’s got you so nervous?”

“I uh,” she takes a deep breath. “I don’t feel good…”

His brows raise but his eyes stay on the road, “what kinda not feelin’ good?”

“Like the possibly knocked-up again kind of not feelin’ good…” she admits, “we agreed to try again if we’re moving and have the space so that he can experience it all this time and Jamie would be a big brother… please don’t be mad at me.”

She suddenly feels like a kid again, afraid to lose her support because she wanted to have another one of Eddie’s babies. But he shuts those fears down real quick.

“You’re 22,” he reminds her, giving her knee another squeeze of approval. “And already a wonderful mom, if we’re gonna have the space now, I think it’s going to be a nice addition to what we got goin’ on already.”

“Me too, thank you,” she relaxes into the seat finally, staring out at the road with a smile. “I’m so surprised how easy it’s been to transition back into life with him like he’s never been gone… and James loves him so much it’s amazing.”

“It’s his instincts,” Wayne explains. “That boy knows his daddy, blood or not, Eddie took one look at him and Jamie knew he was safe.”

“Like Eddie with you,” she reminds him. “I never really got to thank you for taking him in when we were little, I mean I was so mad he moved away to Hawkins but you saved him from being hurt anymore and I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“You don’t need to,” he’s always had a hard time taking compliments and praise. “How would you feel if I thanked you for making my family bigger? Huh?”

She smiles, shaking her head with a slight laugh, “I’d say you’re welcome 'cause I know you mean it, ya old grump. Take a compliment, you’re a wonderful dad to an equally wonderful dad.”

“Shut up,” he takes his hand off her knee to wipe his face, “you’re too nice, no wonder he keeps getting you pregnant.”

She smacks his arm lightly, “hey!”

“I’m kidding,” he can’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t mind having a hundred grandkids.”

“Good, 'cause I want as many as I can have with him,” she’s honest. “I love how much Jamie looks like us, I wanna see every little face we can make together.”

—

“What’s it say?!” Eddie’s practically on top of her when she comes out of the bathroom.

Wayne on the other hand gives her some space, holding Jamie in his arms as they all wait to see if she’s pregnant again. It’s such a lovely, yet suffocating change from the last time she was in this situation. The last time she was so alone it was terrifying, now she’s surrounded by her 3 favourite boys.

“It needs time, I just left it in there we’ll go back in and get it soon,” she explains, holding Eddie around his middle in a quick hug. “I really hope I am… I’m already thinking about what I want to do with the baby’s room at the new place.”

“So we're getting it?” Eddie turns to Wayne, wanting to know all of his thoughts.

“We’re putting in an offer, yeah,” he confirms with a smile. He turns to Jamie and bounces him so he laughs, “this little guy loved the backyard swing and I was thinking I could build him a slide, or a sandbox for his trucks?”

James lights up, “yeah!”

“Yeah!” Eddie and Y/N smile back at him, reaching out to take a hand of his each and shake them lightly. “You’re going to have the best time in a big house, buddy,” Eddie can’t help thinking about it all and how wonderful it’ll be.

“And a great big brother,” Y/N adds.

“Papa will teach you all about that, he was such a good big brother,” Eddie smiles at Wayne. “My mom said he was always the best, maybe you’ll get a little sister too.”

“Good luck to all of us,” Wayne teases. “The last girl Munson we had was your mom and she was such a ball buster… I do miss her though.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie sighs as he brushes Jamie's curls back, he looked so much like himself and Eddie knew he looked like his mom, so in a way, he was also looking at his mom when he looked at his son.

“I’m going to check it,” Y/N references back to the bathroom door, “should I bring it out here or tell you or?”

“Can I do it?” Eddie asks, “I wanna tell you if you are…”

“Yeah, go for it,” she swoons, letting him walk off into the bathroom to find the test face down on the counter, on top of some toilet paper, waiting to be read.

He takes a deep breath and says a small prayer in his mind, hoping whoever was listening would give him and the love of his life another baby so he could feel like a good dad finally. He wanted more than anything to be present in this little one's entire life while he still made up for his absence over the last year to James every day moving forward. He slowly flips the test, eyes closed, he bites his lip and holds his breath as he peeks with one eye.

Two lines.

“Oh my god,” he covers his mouth in shock and runs out to her, holding the test up in the air, “oh my god!”

“Really!?” She starts to jump up and down, waving her arms slightly before she jumps into eddies, holding him tight. “We did it!”

As if they forget Wayne is there, they share a few kisses and congratulations, wrapped up in each other's embrace and mutual glee. “Mama’s having a baby,” they hear him explaining to Jamie, ever so sweetly. “They’re just happy, it’s not sad.”

They both turn back to his worries that their hysterics freaked him out, “it’s so exciting, buddy,” they explain to him softly. “You’re gonna be a big brother.”

He reaches out for his mom, jumping right into her arms and burying his face in her neck, she cups his head and sways with him, “I can’t believe we’re gonna have another one of you.”

“I can’t wait to be here for it,” Eddie’s eyes are full of tears as he watches them dance.

Wayne pats his back, “me too,” he agrees. “I never did get to see ya all pregnant either, you think we can come to one of those cool sonogram appointments?”

“Yeah,” she nods, smiling with her whole face, “I’d love to have you there this time.”

—

Eddie is so careful about buckling his son into his van, he double and triple checks the straps and the buckle before clocking the door and getting back into the front seat, “you ready to go?”

“Yeah!” He cheers back. “Moo-sick?”

“Sure thing, dude,” his heart melts as he reaches for the nob on the stereo, “let’s see what we got today…” he tunes into the closest rock station to hear one of the many fan-fucking-tastic songs that were released during his quarantine. Looking in the rearview mirror, his little boy is head-banging along to the words, holding his favourite teddy under his arm and a big smile on his face. He’s the cutest thing in the world.

The drive is short, they are able to listen to only a song and a half but James makes them sit and wait for the song to finish, he doesn’t let his dad unbuckle him until the radio man comes back on. So Eddie turns around in his seat to look at him, “Buddy, there’s a record store here, I can show you all kinds of music?”

He lights right up, “weally?” He can’t really say his r’s yet.

“Yeah, come on,” he finally shuts the engine off and hops out of the van, swinging the back door open he unclips the buckle and helps his little guy to his feet.

Holding hands they walk all the way through the parking lot together and into the mall where everyone is looking at him. He picks James up, feeling like he needs to guard his son against the oncoming looks. It was strange for them to see Eddie Munson the child murderer with his own kid, he knew that’s why they were looking.

And everyone knew it was his kid too, obviously. But now they knew for sure. It was one thing when Y/N lived with him, the old gossip was that she was another one of Wayne’s siblings' kids that he took in, there were a few people who suspected Eddie got Y/N pregnant and then dipped, but most of them just thought Wayne was being charitable.

“Come on bud,” he ignores the stares and the whispers and smiles at his little boy, “we need to go make a few t shirts first and then we can go get a new album and listen to it at home.”

Up the escalator and down the hall, they finally get to the shirt printing store where Eddie heads right towards the toddler t-shirts. He sets James down and holds a shirt up to him, “this should fit you, what colour do you want?”

“Gween!” He yells, jumping up and down while pointing at the green shirt on the wall.

“Green it is,” Eddie laughs, standing up to reach for the green shirt in James’ size. “Follow me,” he points towards the counter, walking slowly so James can keep up.

He places it on the counter with a smile, luckily the person working there is a teenage girl with no preconceived notions about him. “What would you like, today?”

“Do you have any presets that say like ‘will you marry me?’ On them?” He asks carefully. “I want to dress him and then when his mom unzips his hoodie she’ll see it and I can propose.”

“Cute,” she genuinely doesn’t care. “I think I can make that for you,” she says, flicking through the patterns in her file folder until she pulls out a basic sheet of paper with cursive text saying “will you marry me?” On it. “This good?”

“Perfect,” he agrees, handing her the small shirt.

She sizes it, prints the letters on white vinyl and presses it to the shirt all within a few minutes. Holding up the final product, she finally smiles, “this okay?”

“It’s amazing, thank you so much,” Eddie’s so enthusiastic about it. He pays, the shirt is placed in a bag and he hands it to James to hold on their walk out.

“Ready to go to the music store?” He asks, not as excited seeing as he works there 5 days a week, it’s not a new place for him.

“Yeah!” He reaches up, wanting to be held again.

And who was he to say no? He picks his little guy up again and snuggles him close, kissing his cheek a few times, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, resting his head on his dad's shoulder as they walk down the hall.

He’s never felt so right before. He used to feel he had no purpose, but holding his son, and seeing the perfect person he was able to make made everything in his life worth it. His son is everything to him, his next kid was going to be just as loved too. And they’d both grow up with married parents in a big house with a happy life, everything he always wanted, he was going to give to them.

James wiggles out of his arms when he sees his favourite store and makes a b-line right to the headphones on the wall. “Woah there, dude, we need to pick something to listen to first.”

“Mal-ika!” He yells, “mal-ika, mal-ika!”

“Metallica it is,” he smiles, walking through the rock aisle on his way over to the book, taking Metallica's Master of Puppets tape off the shelf and bringing it over to his little guy who already had his headphones on, waiting to rock out.

He could really tell his friends raised him so far, he loved heavy metal, he wanted his curly hair long, he wore little band tee’s and he was just so fucking cool. He was gonna have to thank Gareth and Jeff for keeping his memory alive through music, especially when they thought he was really gone.

He sits there, in the booth with his son as he head-bangs along to the loud music in his headphones, thinking about his life now. It felt like yesterday he was spending a month alone in his room learning how to play Master of Puppets and then he used it to save the world and now his son wants to listen to it all the time.

“Anything I can help you with?” His co-worker asks with a cheeky smile, knowing he doesn’t.

“No, I’m good, Hank,” he smiles back. “We already have all these albums at home, he just likes to come in.”

“Of course he does,” Hank enthused. “He’s the famous James Munson… one day we’re gonna have his songs in here.”

“I hope,” Eddie holds him tight and kisses the top of his head just as he starts to drum along to the solo on the desk, “however… I think he might be a drummer.”

“Gareth got to him,” Hank sighs, playfully.

“He loves his uncle Gare,” Eddie understands perfectly. “But once his hands are big enough I will be getting him a guitar and teaching him everything I know… I’m a bit rusty right now, but by then I should be caught back up.”

“And you’ll have new Metallica stuff to learn together,” Hank reminds him with a smile.

“True,” he honestly hadn’t thought about it.

But suddenly he was even more excited to grow up alongside his kids.

—

“Why is he so bundled up?” She asks as soon as she sees James, walking in the front door after work, exhausted. “It’s June, he’s going to sweat to death.”

“He asked for it,” Wayne lies, shrugging. “Said he was cold.”

“Oh no,” she gets down on her knees and cups his face, touching her lips to his forehead, “he’s not fevered… but he is warm. Let’s get you out of this, buddy,” she explains while she unzips his hoodie and peels his little arms out of it.

It takes her a minute to read his shirt, not even registering that it’s not what she dressed him in that morning. She reads it slowly,

“Will you marry— oh my fucking god?”

“Ooh my fuckin’ god,” he repeats back to her, completely perfect.

“No,” she can’t help herself from laughing as the tears start, “you can’t say that… but, oh my god?” She covers her mouth and turns to Wayne, and then the other way, towards their bedroom in the tiny trailer where Eddie was standing.

He stepped out into the sunlight and then got down on one knee, “you told me I had to really ask… so will you marry me?”

She didn’t think she’d be this emotional when it finally happened, she also didn’t think she’d be pregnant. She thought about this moment a lot growing up, she always imagined she’d marry him, and she always knew it would happen. Having it happen like this, however, surrounded by their family, even if it was just Wayne and James, it felt perfect. More perfect than anything she ever imagined.

She waves him over, crying too much to get up and go to him and James was a little freaked out by the tears too. He snuggled into her chest, “mama?”

“It’s okay, baby,” she kisses his head. “Your daddy wants me to marry him… should I do it? Should I marry daddy?”

He nods, “marry daddy!”

“Okay, I will,” she can’t stop smiling, overjoyed with how this all played out.

Eddie gets on the floor beside her, wrapping them up in his arms, kissing his soon-to-be wife’s forehead and then his sons. “Can I put this on you?” He asks, showing her the simple band with 3 diamonds on it.

“Yeah,” she nods, holding back more tears.

He slides the rings over her finger carefully, bringing her hand to his lips he kisses her knuckles. “I can’t wait to marry you."

“Me either,” she presses a kiss right to his lips, breathing him in deeply as he holds the kiss there.

And then James jumps in, kissing his mommy’s cheek with a giggle, slobbering on her slightly. Toddler kisses were always the wettest, but also the sweetest. They break from the kiss with matching smiles, Eddie grabs James by the waist and tickles him while she cups his little face and smothers him in kisses, making the whole trailer erupt in the purest noise known to man.

Little happy baby giggles. A perfect example of how the rest of their lives would always be.

Taglist

@fightingdragonswithwho @mrs-dr-reid @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @stevesmunsons @blairscott @sweetyyhippyy @wroteclassicaly @reidsbookclub

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4

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hlficlibrary · 6 months

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umm hello, i need your help... i havent read a fanfic in a few months and it's starting to feel weird coz i'm literally always reading but now whenever i open a new fanfic i end up skim-reading it and it feels like a dishonest thing to do

so could you please recommend me some angsty fanfic under 20k which are very gripping....

THANKYOU

Hello, anon! You're very welcome! This was an interesting challenge because I wanted to get you closer to 20k than super short ones. And for some reason the angsty ones I could think of are either short or over 20k. That being said, I knew I'd be able to find you some. (ALSO, I promise you that just skim-reading something is a perfectly fine thing to do and there's nothing dishonest or bad about it. Sometimes, we just find ourselves in a place where it's harder than other times to get into a story. That's no one's fault! I do understand the feeling of wanting to really get into a story though, so I hope these fics will do that for you!) I'll put the word count with these so you know how long these are and also I fudged the first one because I think it's JUST what you're looking for and it's just a little over 20k.

what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove (E, 22k)

As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh.

As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin.

As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him.

But today is not that day.

A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for. But Harry has some secrets of his own, and they send Louis' world spinning off its axis all over again.

bonded by @juliusschmidt (M, 20k)

Louis cannot remember his life before Harry. He had one- Harry is, after all, two years younger than he is- but he cannot pull up even one memory that is not somehow intertwined with Harry.

the one where they are bonded, but it's not like that and they have to pretend like it is

No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) by @allwaswell16 (E, 17k)

There’s never been anyone for Harry but Louis. He had always thought their love would last forever, despite society’s pressures on an alpha/alpha relationship. When Louis breaks up with him and moves to Chicago, he’s suddenly left behind to pick up the pieces of the life they once shared. Instead of moving on, he finds reasons to keep Louis in his life and in the process begins to piece together what went wrong.

Or an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

You're A Universe by Jiksa / @jiksax (E, 15k)

Harry doesn’t ever mean to hurt him; Louis doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s the only thing he ever does anymore.

Or, Louis’s a stay-at-home dad in London and Harry’s a business expat in Qatar. Louis doesn’t know how much longer their marriage can survive the distance.

give me things to stay awake by embodied (E, 10k)

It’s shitty and it’s counterproductive and it’s self-indulgent, but he lets it become a thing. On Saturday nights Harry goes out and gets so pissed he can’t stand, and when the bartender cuts him off he rings Louis and is in his car within an hour. It’s not a cycle he’s proud of, but it’s also something he can’t resist, and he keeps doing it as long as Louis keeps showing up. AU. It's been a year since Louis broke up with Harry.

#ask #anon #angst #ficrec #embodied #jiksa #allwaswell16 #juliusschmidt #livelaughlovelarry

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pearlypairings · 3 months

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steve and robin with “put the icing down”? one of them is a birthday cake baking pro the other is a nightmatreeee (also happy birthday weekend lovebug!)

platonic steve & robin || angst, comfort, dynamic duo || 1788 words (lol oops)

A/N : uwu!!! I went crazy! this prompt made me drag out a lil angst (mostly because it coincided with that devastating behind the scenes photo of Dustin in front of Eddie's grave). I liked playing with the idea that Steve would end up being the more skilled baker with Robin being very who cares it's just a cake??? and he's like NO I need to FIX our friend! which is that's not at all realistic for this level of trauma, but his heart's in the right place so Robin goes along for the emotional ride.

"yesterday's" prompt

"Rob—Rob!" Steve pointed at the flour-coated, eggshell-laden hostage with a death grip on his mother's precious silver icing spatula. "Put. The Icing. DOWN." Her fingers pressed into the plasticky flesh of the piping bag in direct mutiny of his kitchen dictatorship. "What's got your panties all in a bunch? You've been a snobby baker all day. Isn't making a cake for someone supposed to be fun?"

Robin hovered dangerously over the three layered round cake propped up on the white ceramic cake stand. They'd been in the Harrington kitchen slaving for hours on each part, though Steve surprisingly wielded more skills than Robin in the baking department, especially for being such an athletic doofus. Turned out he learned the way of the oven from his mom, baking for charity fundraisers and the like when his dad was away on business. He hadn’t divulged any more details when Robin had asked how he learned all these recipes, and she didn’t have to ask. She already knew the Harringtons were sticklers for high achievement and perfection, which clearly influenced Steve's eagle-eye approach to measuring the dry ingredients and the almost weirdly-scientific method in which he ordered the ingredients to be mixed together "for maximum moistness." Gag. He wasn't even listening to how ridiculous he sounded and that definitely made her raise more than a few eyebrows as she stayed on the outskirts of his deliberate process. "It needs to be perfect, not just slathered all over." Robin watched as he had to consciously refrain from finger combing his hair, his own hands covered in remnants of their baking “project.” That was his nervous tick, something gnawed at him more than just their favorite twerp’s birthday cake. "Isn't it the thought that counts?" she pushed, not yet retreating from the cake. "Yeah, well—Mrs. Henderson asked for my help, because she had to work or whatever. I don’t want to let her down...” He spoke softer, rocking back and forth heel to toe, toe to heel. Steve’s face softened, too, making Robin lean in, forcing herself to listen closely. The truth was coming. “And you know how bad Dustin has had it lately. I don’t have to remind you. He hasn't even mentioned his own birthday, just kept talking about Eddie’s last month."

Steve's hands planted themselves on his hips. A shadow glazed his eyes when he mentioned their younger friend struggling, like responsibility hung solely on his shoulders for Dustin's grief. As if somehow Steve was the only one who made life-altering decisions that day. Robin dropped her arms to her sides and with that, the frosting no longer threatened the pristine vanilla-chocolate-marble layers of tempting cake. She shrugged off the tiny mutiny with an apologetic look. "Thank you," he said as he leaned to one hip, cooling off his unusual, micro-managing attitude. He poked another toothpick through the top layer and kept his hand close to see if any warmth lingered to confirm it was ready to be iced. She slid next to him focusing intently, probably mentally plotting out his icing to spatula strategy for the canvas of the cake, and she bumped gently into his hip to get his attention. Robin wasn’t gonna let him stay locked up in his head under all that stupid, silly hair to fend for himself. "It's not your fault, you know." His gaze sank for a moment from the counter to the floor, and a sigh fell from his lips heavy as an ocean anchor. His knuckles whitened along the edge of the island counter. "Ever since..." Steve trailed off, shaking his head low. They both knew what he meant: last year’s spring break, when Hawkins had the deadliest un-natural disaster. Nobody bounced back this time like the other tussles with the Upside Down, the wounds struck too deep for them not to be left bleeding out and a mess in the aftermath. His grasp held onto the granite counter even tighter. "The kid saw things he shouldn't have. Well, they all did. But he was alone, he had to... had to find his own way back by himself, covered in......” His back bent to let his head hang even lower. “They shouldn't have been left out there in the open in the first place. I knew better than to let either of them be in that park." Robin's powdery hand gravitated to the arm he flexed out of anger or grief she wasn't sure. Lately it seemed like every conversation circled back to this idea that their failure had more to do with Steve than the impossibly terrifying, murderous interdimensional mutant with an insatiable vendetta against Hawkins. Like the death and maiming and earth splitting destruction that was so much bigger than their little Scooby Doo gang somehow circled solely around Steve Harrington. But she knew better than to try to rationalize right now when he was like this. He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed it twice. Their well-practiced system to communicate that they're still present, mentally. She squeezed his bicep once more, looking up at him. "I just wanted him to have one good, perfect thing this year for himself, and I guess when his mom asked me for this favor, I did the typical Harrington family thing and made something simple into a whole….. shitty perfectionist production. I'm sorry, I was being an ass about it."

"Well, dingus, you're always an ass, but I can let this one time slide." Robin made that smile stretch to near goofy levels, the one that always made him roll his eyes, but smile back. Desperate times, desperate measures, etc. etc. “I think this cake will be Mrs. Henderson-approved when she sees how insanely tall it is. And I don’t know how we can help Dustin right now, but at least this can show him we’re here, you know, when he’s ready to talk?” He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little to a lower slump. His hands stayed busy though, moving onto the big bowl of frosting to stir and fold its contents to re-fluff it or something, she guessed. “None of us really came out unscathed, did we?” “No, don’t think anyone’s really okay. We’re just trying to survive with what’s left.” “Yeah…..yeah.” Steve conceded. The spatula kept folding and folding and folding until it made Robin dizzy to watch. She stopped him again before shrugging. “So let’s make a really good cake. We’re in control of that.” He offered her the first scoop to put on the heavenly smelling layers of cake before them; panic started to squeeze at her throat. That actually was a disaster waiting to happen with her luck lately with general coordination outside of navigating her trumpet. “Come on, you get first dibs for me being such a douche.” “Actually, I’ve rethought my stance. How about you ice the thing and I put the little Oreo crumbles and sprinkles on the edge. That seems more like my thing…..” She laughed at herself, snorting a little while she visualized the final product and its delivery. “I think, maybe, you should also be the one who carries it into the Henderson’s house, too. To be safe.” The last thing poor Steve needed was for them to finish this thing, in hopes of making him feel better, and then, she trips across their lawn and this fucking masterpiece cake goes flying up in the air only to become worm food. This was now a mission to help their friend remember that he mattered, too…. That they could remember their lost loved ones, honor them, and still celebrate their own lives. And in Steve’s world, that started with an expertly baked cake, so that's what they’ll do. He didn’t budge at first, but once Robin nodded him on his way, Steve started to gently ice the cake in precise swoops with the special spatula. She grabbed all the toppings to get them ready, organizing them in tiny bowls with tinier spoons she found in the Harrington specialized utensil drawer; she was sure they weren’t technically the correct tool, but like, they seemed perfect and Steve didn’t correct her when his eyes flicked her direction to note what she was doing.

When all was said and done, the center was devoid of the most important pronouncement. Robin eyed up her work on the sides. The sprinkles and crumbles probably could have looked cleaner if he did them, but they were at least evenly distributed and not too crazy in their wild array. “So, my handwriting is shit.” Steve said, smirking with a grip on the smallest piping bag of vibrant green-colored icing. He offered Robin the task at hand. “I know you’re handwriting isn’t shit.” “Uhh, don’t you think this part’s a little too important for me to fuck up? We already established I am not a natural at domestic work, it seems.” “If it’s bad, it’ll make Dustin laugh. If it’s good, he’ll be surprised that two idiots can make a cool cake. Win-win in my book.” “But, then you could try to do it.” Robin shrugged off the green threat. “I was being a control freak the whole time.” His face shifted, a tense knit in his brow. “Come on, this’ll at least make me feel like I didn’t ruin the whole day.” “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll do it, but if I hear one giggle out of you before we see Dustin, I WILL smash your face into the cake and tell Mrs. Henderson what happened. She’ll take my side, you know it.” He offered the tube again with a pleased grin. “Fair’s fair.” “One more thing first.” Robin had been eyeing the silver bowl of extra white frosting. She’d controlled herself while he’d worked diligently on the cake, like he was training for the world championship of baking. But now the sight of it and the timing was too tempting. She stuck her finger for a big scoop and swiped it across his cheek in a sneak attack. His reaction was too slow, with a pitched-down “hey!” and a swat of his hand that missed and nearly got the cake instead. Robin took the decorative icing bag from his hand, took a step back and shrugged innocently. “It had to be done. For Dustin, of course.” Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing a dish towel to clean off the white streak from his face. “ I’ll get you back when you least expect it.” “I know, and I’ll count on it. Now, let me focus….should it be in Russian or English?” “Jesus, Robin, English obviously.” “Okay, okay. Good, because I don’t know if Russians celebrate birthdays or not…or how to spell Dustin in Cyrillic.”

#pearly birthday prompts #eleventh prompt!#almost done!#platonic stobin #steve and robin #steve harrington #robin buckley #angst post s4 #dustin's birthday #baking a cake together!#bestfriends #but sortof too dependent #this might be more than a ficlet lol #stranger things fanfiction #comfort #jokes #firefly graphics dividers

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oldbutnotyetwise · 3 months

Text

My Last Happy Birthday To My Dear Elizabeth

As my ALS marches on stealing more and more from me, the lists of my “Lasts” continues to grow. In the past few weeks I had my last Christmas and my last New Years. This week I shared my daughters birthday with her, the last one I will ever share with her. Next year by the time her birthday rolls around I will be long gone from this earth.

I enjoy my time with Elizabeth, this year for her birthday Robin and I ordered in food from her chosen restaurant, had desserts from an area bake shop, watched a movie and then played some Mexican Train Dominoes, which is a bit of a family tradition. It was a quiet but nice afternoon and evening. As much as I was enjoying this time I will admit that I was struggling a bit, but I managed to hold it together until after Elizabeth had left to go home. Elizabeth had just gone out the door to go home when the emotional floodgates burst open, the devastation of knowing that I will never again be with her on her birthday sharing the joy of her reaching another age milestone. No more birthday cards or gifts to buy for her, it’s done, it’s over, she will carry on without me as she should, just as I have after losing my own parents. I suppose it’s this whole circle of life thing.

While Elizabeth was here I had joked with her that I was struggling with this whole having a Middle-Aged Child. Earlier in the day I had shared this lament with my Step-Mother, but I gained little sympathy from her as she pointed out that all of her offspring are well into their senior citizenship. Intrigued or perhaps depressed at this thought when I shared it with her, Elizabeth pulled out her phone and goggled the average life expectancy of a female in Canada, and learned it is 84.47 years, so having just turned 42, she was indeed “Middle-Aged”. There is no disputing that she does actually look 10 or 15 years younger than her actual age.

There was a time Elizabeth and I would plan adventures for her birthdays. For her twenty-third birthday I flew to New Zealand to spend three and a half weeks touring the south island with her in an old rental car we named Sputter. On her actual birthday we were backpacking across lush green mountaintops, going from warm sunny weather into an ice storm and back to warm temperatures as we came down out of the mountains. This was only time I ever had Elizabeth all to myself on her actual birthday, it also lives on as one of my favourite memories. For her twenty-fifth birthday I picked her up in Ottawa and we drove to Quebec City for a few days, this also coincided with a brutal cold front that was setting record low temperatures for the month of January there. We booked a walking tour and the poor guide must have thought us crazy, it was only the two of us on the tour, he added a lot of church interiors to the tour just so we all didn’t freeze to death. When Elizabeth’s twenty-seventh birthday was rolling around she was living in England and we decided to meet in Paris for her birthday adventure. I met her at the Charles DeGaulle Airport and together we hauled our suitcases onto the subway and found our way to our rented apartment for the week. Okay if I’m being honest here, Elizabeth found our way to the apartment, I just followed along like the well behaved parent I was. We walked all over Paris for the entire week, and on Elizabeth’s actual 27th birthday were standing on top of the Eiffel Tower together, another life highlight for me.

I would like to introduce you to the amazing woman who has the good fortune, or perhaps misfortune of sharing half my DNA, Elizabeth Louise entered this world on a cold January day at 3:58 p.m. at the Niagara Falls General Hospital. She was named after two of her great-grandmothers. If memory serves me correctly she was 6 pounds 8 ounces and measured 17 inches tall. I was there when she made her entrance, but in all honesty it’s all a bit of a blur to me now.

She grew up being a happy child, an active child and a pretty well behaved child, yes and dare I say it, a very cute child.

We moved to a country home where Elizabeth stayed with my wife and I, until she moved to her Mom’s the summer she was fourteen. Elizabeth and I always got along very well, she was a good helper and like to learn so she and I would be building or fixing things in the workshop, or changing electrical fixtures in the house or working on the truck or tractor. I was a runner and when I would go for a run Elizabeth would often join me on her bike, carrying my water bottle. During the run we would have the nicest conversations, away from all other worldly distractions. It is one of the things I am very grateful for, that Elizabeth and I were always able to talk.

When she finished the University of Ottawa she went to New Zealand and Australia living in each country for six months. Later she moved to England and lived in Leeds for a year, using her grandparent’s British Lineage to get her a work Visa. After returning to Canada she lived in Toronto before meeting a partner who she followed out to Victoria for several years, and then down to Colorado for several more.

She has worked for Ikea in four different cities and three different countries. Then in her thirties she decided to go back to school where she qualified as a welder which is the career she continues to pursue.

Elizabeth has always been somewhat fitness oriented, maybe she thought it looked like fun all those years earlier when she rode her bike beside me as I ran. One year she gave me the gift of running with me in a Father’s Day 5K in Ottawa, it was her first race. It was cold, it was raining and there was a large hill on the course. We finished that race side by side but she was in tears and physically spent. I thought that might have been both the start and the end of her running pursuits, but it turned out she was no quitter. We ran numerous other races together over the years, and in time I no longer had to wait for her, it was her waiting for me. In time she has beaten just about all my running records, and done several marathons compared to my one. If that wasn’t enough she then took up Triathlons and eventually completed an Ironman, finishing under her goal of fourteen hours. Now days she is also competing in fitness competitions through her gym, in her last one she won her age category and was the third female overall. She was, and continues to be a fitness machine.

Now the person behind all these achievements also happens to be one of the nicest, kindest, most thoughtful people you could ever meet. Yes, you’re right I am very biassed, but I’m also right about this. She makes me so very proud, she will live on long after I am gone, and where she goes, a part of me will always go with her.

Sometimes in life we search far and wide for inspiring people or great stories, but sometimes we should stop and look a little closer to home, because sometimes those around us have stories just as amazing as those we seek out. Such is the case with Elizabeth, this beautiful, kind, wise, world traveller, adventurer, athlete and all round incredible person. She also happens to be my daughter, my legacy, and my best contribution to trying to make this world a better place.

#als #Elizabeth #Last Birthday #Love My Kid

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