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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Hazelnut | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl didn't know exactly what he expected when his group settled into Alexandria—maybe some snobby, incompetent inhabitants who couldn't stand their ground if something were to happen or people who would turn on him and his group at any given moment, but definitely not a little girl who basically attached herself to his hip. And he definitely didn't expect to find himself drawn to the mother of that little girl.

Genre: Fluff, angst but not a lot.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour war. (Timeline is kinda wonky. Saviours kinda don't exist in this? I don't really know.)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, child abandonment, mental abuse, mentions of drugs and alcohol, single parenthood, sexual content but not smut.

Word count: 8k

A/n: This was such a cute idea that @louifaith had! I tried my best, but it honestly sucks. I'm not really happy with how this turned out, but I hope you like it! Also, definitely go check out @celtic-crossbow 's version! Pure perfection, honestly.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, and now for Scud Frohmeyer as well!

—

“You have to lighten up, Daryl. How do you expect to make any friends with that 'leave me alone' attitude of yours?”

Daryl grumbled to himself as he continued tinkering with his crossbow. The hot late afternoon sun was relentlessly beating down on the community as its inhabitants continued about their tasks. Daryl had been observing silently everyone from the porch steps he was sitting on, enjoying the moment of solitude he had, but Carol had other ideas.

“Daryl,” Carol started, crossing her arms as she descended down the steps. She turned around to face Daryl, her voice stern. “It would do you good to socialise a bit.”

“I talked to Tobin when we finished up with the construction of the new walls yesterday,” Daryl replied nonchalantly, keeping his eyes focused on his crossbow instead of the stern woman in front of him.

“That doesn't count. That's work talk. I'm talking about actual socialising. Like, striking up a conversation with someone that isn't in our group or someone you have to talk to for work.”

“I dun' need to. Y'all are the only company I need. Ain't gon' waste my time tryin' to make buddies with people who dun' even like me,” Daryl responded with a sense of finality, gripping his crossbow and getting up. “Now get off my back, woman.”

“Where are you going?” Carol called after him, watching the archer walk away from the house.

“Somewhere,” he replied shortly, ending the conversation effectively.

Slightly irritated, Daryl walked with no particular destination in mind. He passed by some people who sent him friendly greetings and small waves, which he returned half-heartedly. After a while of mindlessly walking about, Daryl stopped in front of a makeshift park of sorts. It was a small area surrounded by grass and had a big tree towards the edge. He moved to sit on the grass underneath the shade of the tree. The few kids in the community loved to play in this area, but it was deserted for now; the perfect place for the archer to relax for a while.

Daryl went about sharpening his knife for a while. The mediocre task kept his mind busy, busy enough to ignore the parents and kids who arrived, busy enough to ignore the wary stares the parents threw his way. Daryl simply shook his head—even after two months, there were still people who were wary of him and the rest of his group. Even after everything they did and sacrificed to ensure the community's safety.

“Mistah lonely?”

Startled, Daryl's head shot up and his eyes locked with those of a little girl who looked no older than three years old. The girl looked at him with curiosity written all over her young face, eyeing the knife in the archer's hands with wonder. She tentatively reached forward to touch the knife, her fingertips close to making contact with the cold metal of the knife.

Daryl jerked the knife away and out of reach of the young girl. “Dun' touch tha',” he barked coldly, standing up to keep the knife out of the young girl's reach.

“Sharp mife?” the girl questioned, moving closer towards the archer. She reached up to grab his arm, trying to reach the knife.

Daryl frowned at the girl. He gently pried his arm away from the girl's grasp and took a step back, unnerved by the soft touch of the child's hands. That didn't seem to deter the girl, however.

“Mistah use sharp mife?”

“Scram, kid. Go back to yer mama.”

“Mama?” the girl asked, her eyes lighting up at the mere mention of her mother. “Mama! Get Mama!”

“Wha'? No, tha' ain't—” Daryl started, but was abruptly cut off when the girl took off and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. Daryl raised his eyebrows as he watched the girl's retreating figure, confused by the interaction he just had.

Well, he thought, at least that's the end of that. However, as Daryl gathered his crossbow and sheathed his knife, he inwardly groaned at the sound of the little girl's voice calling out to him.

“Mistah! Mama here!”

Daryl turned and looked at two approaching figures. The young girl was holding a woman's hand, leading the woman over to him. The woman was laughing lightly, allowing herself to be pulled by the little girl.

“Come, Mama!” the little girl giggled, excitedly tugging your hand harder.

“Okay, okay! No need to rip my hand off,” you laughed, soon coming to a stop in front of Daryl.

Daryl looked at you with a frown, scowling slightly. His eyes darted between the excited little girl and you, slightly taken aback by the friendliness you radiated. Despite everything he's done for the community up until that point, only a few select Alexandrians—mainly Aaron and Eric—didn't show him any contempt or wariness. Yet there you were, smiling up at him and looking as pretty as a picture.

“Mama,” the little girl excitedly told him, pointing up to you. She smiled at you, dimples forming on her chubby cheeks.

“I'm Y/n. You must be Daryl?” You introduced yourself, extending your hand for a handshake.

Daryl looked at your hand, not moving to take it. However, just as you were about to lower your hand awkwardly at his dismissal, the little girl stepped forward.

“Like this, mistah,” she instructed, taking the archer's hand and putting it in yours.

Daryl flinched at the contact and quickly withdrew his hand, looking at the little girl with a small frown. He looked back at you, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

This was the worst random social situation he's ever been in.

“Sorry,” you apologized, giving him a sheepish smile before turning back to your daughter. “Hazel, we don't touch people unless they say we can, alright?”

“Sorry, Mama,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly, not fully understanding what you were saying. She turned back to look at Daryl. “Sorry, Dar.”

“Daryl,” the archer corrected her, talking for the first time since you had approached him.

Hazel looked up at him in confusion. “Dar,” she repeated herself, a look of concentration on her face.

“No, 's—nevermind. Forget it,” Daryl grumbled, shifting his weight from his one leg to the other. He looked back to you again and noticed how awkward you looked, your lips pursed as you avoided his eyes.

“Sorry. She has trouble with the pronounciation of some words and names. I'm working on helping her with that,” you explained.

Daryl noticed the defensive tone in your voice and raised his eyebrows questioningly, yet he refrained from questioning why. “S'alrigh',” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his crossbow that was slung over his shoulder.

“Okay,” you said, gathering Hazel up into your arms. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to get going. I have to get this gremlin ready for dinner. Sorry for bothering you.”

With that, you turned around and retreated back towards the houses, Hazel happily babbling in your arms. Daryl watched your retreating figure with a sense of uneasiness. In that short interaction, he found himself unexplainably drawn to you. He didn't know you, but some part of him wanted to get to know you.

However, as quickly as that thought entered his mind, he just as quickly disregarded it. He didn't need to get attached to any more people, especially people who couldn't protect themselves in this harsh world they lived in. In the end, everyone he cared about died or left, so it was better to spare himself the inevitable pain and keep you and your daughter at an arm's length.

Something told him that it would be easier said than done, however.

—

The next morning, Daryl found himself working alongside Aaron. The two of them were busy carrying large pieces of metal to the wall they were busy fortifying, Aaron making casual small talk while Daryl simply hummed in acknowledgement. Once the last piece of metal was added to the already existing pile, the two men wiped the sweat from their foreheads and took a drink of water, before walking over to Aaron's house. Aaron took a seat on the porch steps while Daryl remained standing on the grass.

“So yeah, that's how I met Eric,” Aaron told him, concluding his story.

“Story straight out a damn romance novel,” Daryl replied sarcastically, eliciting a laugh from Aaron.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of it all you want. Everyone always does.”

“Nah, 's a good story. Pretty cliche with the whole spillin' yer coffee on his shirt bit, but 's still a good story,” Daryl assured him. “Now c'mon, didn't ya say somethin' 'bout havin' a part fer my bike?”

“Dar!”

As if materializing out of thin air, Hazel excitedly bounded down the porch steps and threw herself against Daryl, clinging to his leg in a hug. Caught off guard, Daryl stumbled a bit but regained his footing, his eyes darting down to look at Hazel. His eyebrows raised in surprise before he gently pried the girl from his legs, not used to any kid other than Judith clinging to him like that.

“Kid, what are ya doin'?” he questioned, taking a step back from her, but it was to no avail. Hazel simply smiled up at him before throwing herself at him again, clinging to his leg like a monkey.

Aaron chuckled. “I see you've met Hazel. She's quite the character, huh?”

“Wha's she even doin' here?”

“Eric asked to babysit her. He loves having her over, and her mom said yes.”

Hazel giggled against Daryl's leg, turning her head to look at Aaron. “Hi, Rin!”

“Hey, Hazel,” Aaron chuckled fondly, sending the girl a small wave.

“Rin?” Daryl questioned, placing one of his big hands on the little girl's head, accepting his fate of being clung to for now.

“She can't say my name properly,” Aaron explained. “She has trouble with pronouncing some things.”

“Yeah, her mama said somethin' 'bout tha',” Daryl said without really thinking about it.

“So you've met her?” Aaron asked, leaning forward with slight interest. He had a small smirk on his face, one that Daryl couldn't understand.

“Briefly. Hazel practically dragged her over to meet me yesterday,” Daryl replied, looking down at Hazel when he felt her grip loosen on his leg.

Hazel looked up at him and raised her arms, looking at him expectantly. “Upsies,” she said, jumping slightly on her toes. “Dar, upsies!”

To his utter surprise, Daryl found himself leaning down to pick her up. The act hadn't even registered in his brain until the small girl was already in his arms, her small, chubby hands gripping at his shirt as she giggled. The small sound of her laughter made the archer's heart fill with an unexpected fondness, taking him by surprise. It was the same type of fondness that filled his heart whenever he coaxed a laugh from Judith, and yet it was completely different at the same time. He couldn't explain it.

“She seems to like you, Daryl,” Aaron laughed, standing up from his position on the porch steps. “Not a lot of people can say that about her.”

“Wha' do ya mean?” Daryl found himself asking, confused entirely by the man's revelation. From the limited interactions that the archer has had with the young girl up until that point, he naturally assumed that Hazel was this way with everyone. What would make him special enough to the little girl, who just met him, to make her treat him differently than she would others?

Aaron motioned for Daryl to follow him into the house, and he obliged, silently entering the pristine house while still carrying Hazel in his arms. The girl took a great interest in his hair, playing with it to entertain herself.

“From what Y/n told us, she was with a group before she got here who treated her and Hazel badly, and Hazel hasn't fully regained her trust in adults yet,” Aaron explained.

Daryl frowned. “Badly, how?”

“She wouldn't say, but it took forever for Eric and I to gain Hazel's trust. We even tried to bribe her with candy but she wouldn't budge. But she seems to trust you and you say you only met her yesterday?”

“Yeah. She approached me at tha' makeshift park the kids play at,” Daryl nodded, rubbing a hand over Hazel's small back unconsciously, shifting her in his arms slightly.

“Then you're definitely special, buddy. This kid doesn't trust easily,” Aaron declared, sitting down on a chair in the dining room.

Daryl followed his lead, sitting across from him on a chair while still holding the small girl firmly in his arms. Hazel's attention shifted from his hair to the loose threads on his sleeveless shirt, playing with them to keep herself busy.

“They were with a group 'fore this? How long have they been here?” Daryl questioned, interested in knowing more about you.

“Yeah. Hazel and her mom haven't been here all that long. I actually found them a couple of days, maybe a week, before I found you all. From what I know, Y/n and Hazel had been on their own for a while before I found them. Y/n almost killed me the first time we met. She thought I was gonna hurt them. It took me and Eric a while to convince her to come back with us, but even then she refused to let her guard down. She was kind of like Rick when we first met, except she didn't tie me up or force me to eat apple sauce.”

Daryl hummed, hissing slightly when he felt Hazel tug at his hair rather harshly. He brought one of his hands up to pry her hand away from his hair, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over her small fist.

“Tha' hurts,” he said softly, surprising himself by the gentleness of his voice.

“Sorry, Dar,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly. She yawned before laying her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck.

Daryl felt his heart swell with fondness for the second time that day. He gently rubbed her back. From his experience with Judith, that small action could lull a small child into slumber, and he hoped that proved to be right with Hazel.

“You're good at that,” Aaron commented, a smile on his face as he watched that small interaction between the big, 'scary' man and a small, innocent child.

Daryl looked at him, confused by the look the man was sending him. “Good at wha'?” he asked.

“That,” Aaron repeated himself, motioning to Hazel. “Were you a dad before all of this?”

Daryl stiffened at the question. “Nah,” he shook his head, adjusting Hazel in his arms again. “Not the type of guy who could've started a family back then.”

“And now?” Aaron asked, unaware of Daryl's inner turmoil.

Daryl inhaled sharply. “To start a family ya need a partner,” Daryl started, slightly rocking the small girl in his arms. “I ain't got a partner, and there ain't exactly women linin' up to be with me. So kids ain't somethin' I see in my future.”

“It could still happen, you know? You might meet someone. Hell, you know what? I know you'll meet someone.”

“A lot of confidence fer somethin' tha' might never happen,” Daryl grumbled.

“Never say never, Daryl,” Aaron replied, giving the man a small smirk. “Never say never.”

—

“Mama! Mama!” Hazel called through the house, excitement clear in her voice.

You smiled at the sound of your daughter's voice, glad to be able to see her again after a whole day of being alone at your small house. The sun was setting, the stars starting to twinkle in the sky and you were almost done with dinner. Eric had told you that he would bring Hazel back before sunset and you were starting to get worried, but thankfully she was okay.

You walked into the living room and hunched down to pick up the small girl that ran into your arms, hugging her tightly to you as you placed kisses all over her face. She giggled at the sensation and pulled back, grabbing your hand and excitedly pointing towards the door.

“Mama, Dar here,” she said, smiling widely before turning towards the door.

You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with the archer. You stood up and gave him an awkward smile, painfully aware of the awkward encounter you had with the man the day before. Daryl seemed to mirror your unease—he nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other, ducking his head to avoid your gaze.

“I see that, sweetheart,” you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the man before you.

“I played with Rin and Eric. Dar played too!” Hazel happily exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement as she looked up at Daryl in awe.

“Did he, now?” you asked rhetorically, marvelling at the sudden and unexpected change of character for the quiet man. Just the day before he'd shrugged Hazel off and seemed to want nothing to do with her, yet now your daughter was claiming that the huntsman had spent time with her that day. It didn't make sense.

“Yeah! So fun!” Hazel laughed happily, waddling over to Daryl to seemingly hug his leg again.

Daryl, who had been hugged multiple times that day by the toddler, instinctively crouched down to have her hug his side instead of his leg. Hazel wrapped her small arms around him and nuzzled her head into his neck, and Daryl couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. One day had been more than enough for him to grow fond of the small girl, and he cursed himself for letting his guard down enough for that to happen, but the damage was already done; that little girl had already wormed her way into his heart.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled at her, watching the interaction between the archer and your baby girl. “Baby, why don't you go get changed into your blue PJ's, huh? You're a big girl now, right? Think you can get changed without mama's help?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed happily, pulling away from the hug and giving Daryl a smile, dimples on display. “Bye, Dar!”

“Bye, Hazel,” Daryl greeted her quietly, watching the girl waddle to the stairs and begin to climb them carefully. He then hesitantly shifted his attention to you, but instead of seeing that wariness he'd grown accustomed to other parents giving him, one that he expected you to give him after his encounter with you the day before, there was a look of curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

“Thanks for bringing her home,” you thanked him, offering the archer a small smile.

Daryl ducked his head. “Ain't nothin',” he replied, shaking his head.

“So, you spent the day with her?” you started, looking at him questioningly. “By the way you looked uncomfortable around her yesterday, I would've thought you'd avoid her at all costs.”

“I was spendin' the day helpin' Aaron. He invited me to his place 'cause he had a part I needed fer my bike and Hazel was there. She wouldn't let go of me after she saw me,” Daryl explained, fiddling with his hands.

“So she basically forced you into spending time with her?” you asked with a small laugh, your eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Pretty much,” Daryl joked, his lips involuntarily twitching into a small smile.

You laughed lightly and Daryl chuckled softly, admiring the way your eyes seemingly sparkled. The dim light of the living room gave you a golden glow, and Daryl found himself admiring your beauty. The unnerving thought struck him at full force and he tried to shake that thought from his mind—he couldn't let his mind go there. He wouldn't let his mind go there. He had to keep you at an arm's length. It was bad enough that Hazel broke through his barrier in a day, so he couldn't allow her mom to do the same, too. More attachments wasn't something the archer needed.

“Well, Hazel seems happy. I think you just became her best friend, whether you like it or not,” you told him playfully.

“I have a feeling tha' I ain't got much say in the matter.

“Nope,” you laughed. “But thank you. She hasn't looked that happy in a long time.”

“Glad I could help,” Daryl replied, a small smile on his face. “Sorry fer bein' a dick yesterday.”

“It's fine. We shouldn't have bothered you.”

“Ya weren't botherin' me. I jus'... Wasn't in a good mood, 's all. 'M sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” You gave him a sweet smile before turning around. “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

Daryl frowned in confusion but didn't say anything. A few minutes passed until you reentered the living room, a lunchbox in your hand. You promptly handed it to him, and Daryl could feel the heat radiating off the bottom.

“Wha's this?” he asked, giving you a questioning look.

“Stew. I made more than Hazel and I can finish, so I figured I'd give you some. And before you say anything, just take it. Consider it a thank you gift.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, resisting the urge to deny your 'gift'. “Thanks.”

“No problem at all,” you reassured him, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

Daryl ducked his head, willing the blush on his face to go away. “I should get goin',” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“I'll walk you out,” you replied, walking with him over to the door.

Daryl stepped out of your home and turned to you. He gave you a nod and turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard you speak up.

“I hope you realise that she isn't gonna let you off the hook. You're going to be stuck with her now. And my daughter and I are a package deal, so you're going to be stuck with me, too.”

For some unknown reason, Daryl didn't mind that thought at all.

—

“Easy, Hazelnut. Ya dun' wanna hurt yerself, do ya?”

The toddler giggled, her small hands toying with the arrow in her hands. “Sorry, Dar.”

Daryl smiled at the small girl, bringing one of his hands up to ruffle her hair, successfully coaxing another laugh from her. “I know ya are. Jus' try to be more careful, alrigh'? I dun' want ya gettin' hurt.”

“No boo-boos. Boo-boos hurt,” Hazel replied, gingerly handing the arrow back to the archer.

“They do,” Daryl agreed, taking the arrow from the girl. “Tha's why ya gotta be careful, alrigh'? Dun' want anythin' to happen to someone as sweet as ya, Hazelnut.”

Hazel giggled and nodded. “No boo-boos.”

“No boo-boos,” Daryl repeated, smiling fondly at the young girl.

Two months had passed since Daryl initially met you and Hazel. In those two months, Daryl had found himself becoming intertwined with your lives, a constant presence for you and your daughter.

The archer hadn't asked you what had happened to Hazel's father yet, and he wondered when he could be permitted to ask that. However, Daryl knew that there could only be two plausible explanations; either he was dead, or he willingly left. The huntsman really hoped it wasn't the latter. No person should be left to raise a kid on their own.

However, as Daryl's love for the young girl grew, so did his feelings for you. It got to the point where he had started wishing that he was Hazel's dad, that he could've been there during your pregnancy and watched your belly grow. He would've worshipped your body and been there for you every step of the way. However, as much as he wanted that, that was a dream that couldn't be a reality, so he settled on being Hazel's best friend.

“The two of you look like you're having fun. Mind if I join?”

Daryl's head snapped up at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat, that sweet smile of yours making butterflies swarm around in his stomach.

“Mama!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hurrying down the porch steps to fling herself into your arms.

You laughed, picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead. You looked at Daryl and sent him a smile. “Hey, Daryl.”

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, fiddling with the arrow in his hands.

“Mama, play with us!” Hazel giggled, wiggling in your arms to be put down.

You lowered her to the ground, watching her climb up the porch steps and clamber into Daryl's lap. Daryl lowered the arrow and wrapped his arms around her, placing a small kiss to the side of her head. You smiled at the interaction, your heart speeding up against your will.

“I can't, baby. It's time to go home. It's dinner time,” you told her.

Hazel frowned and nuzzled her head into Daryl's neck, a whimper building up in her throat. Instinctively, Daryl started rocking her back and forth, rubbing her small back and shushing her quietly.

“S'alrigh', dun' cry. Ya will see me again tomorrow, alrigh'?” he whispered into her ear, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffles. When he felt her nod, he placed one final kiss to the side of her head before placing her back down. “Why dun' ya go say bye to Jude?”

Hazel looked at you expectantly, and you nodded. “Go ahead, baby. I'll wait for you.”

Hazel ran into the house, leaving you and Daryl alone on the porch. The archer stood up and walked down to meet you on the grass, pushing his hands into his pockets as he looked at you through his hair.

As you looked at him, it took all of your willpower to resist the urge to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek. Not trusting your own hands, you crossed your arms and looked up at the huntsman, giving him a small smile.

“This is the first time ya have come to pick her up. I usually bring her home. 'S somethin' wrong?” Daryl asked, searching your eyes for an answer.

You shook your head. “No, nothing's wrong. I just figured that I could come pick her up for a change. Spare you the walk back to my place.”

“It ain't that far,” Daryl pointed out, motioning down the street. “Jus' a couple of houses down.”

“Yeah, I know, but...” you trailed off, unsure if you should lay your problems onto him.

“But wha'?” he questioned, suddenly on edge. Had you changed your mind about him? About him being around you and your daughter? He really hoped not.

You hesitated for a moment. “It's nothing. Just some mom's around the community who like to be judgy.”

“Wha' are they sayin'?”

“That I'm a bad mom for not taking the time out of my day to pick up my own daughter. That I'm smearing my responsibilities onto other people. Just thought I'd start proving them wrong.”

“Hey, yer not a bad mom. I like bringin' Hazel home at the end of the day. Tha' way I know she's safe.” He also liked it because it meant he got to see you being all domestic, hugging your daughter tightly and sending him beautiful smiles, inviting him to stay for dinner each time. He always declined, not wanting to be a burden, but your offer never waned.

You smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Daryl instantly noticed it and placed one of his hands on your shoulder, taking you by surprise. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and your skin flushed where he touched you.

“Dun' let them convince ya yer a bad mom. I ain't ever seen a better mom than ya. How many mom's here can say tha' they kept their kid alive out there in the real world? Tha' despite everythin', their kid came first and tha' they would kill fer them?”

“How did you know I wasn't here from the start?”

“Aaron told me he found ya and Hazel on yer own not too long before he found us. The fact tha' ya kept her alive on yer own for tha' long proves to me tha' yer the best fuckin' mom under the sun.”

You smiled at him and placed your hand over his that was still resting on your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“No problem,” he replied, holding eye contact with you. His hand lingered on your shoulder for longer than necessary, and he gazed deep into your eyes.

Your heart sped up and stopped beating at the same time, noticing a shift in the archer's emotions. However, before either of you could do anything else, Daryl snapped out of it and withdrew his hand, taking a step back.

You cleared your throat and ducked your head, your face heating up. Luckily, Hazel ran out at that moment and bounded down the stairs, throwing herself into Daryl's side and clinging to his leg.

“Bye, Dar!”

Daryl pressed Hazel tightly to him. “Bye, Hazelnut.”

Hazel unwound her arms from around him and moved over to you, extending her arms to be picked up. You did just that, holding her tightly to you. You turned to Daryl and offered him a small smile.

“You know, my offer still stands. You could join us for dinner.”

Daryl was about to decline your offer again, but Hazel cut him off.

“Yes! Please, Dar!”

In that moment, Daryl found that he wouldn't be able to say no. He gave you both a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You smiled broadly. “Great! Come on, then.”

“Dun' I need to change?”

“No, you're fine, don't worry. You can come as is.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl nodded. “Let's go.”

—

“Could you maybe get Hazel settled into her highchair? I'll be right out with the food.”

Daryl nodded and watched you retreat from the dining room into the kitchen before turning around. “Hazelnut!” he called, hearing the toddler's footsteps come into the dining room.

Hazel stared up at the archer with a huge smile, her arms extended to be picked up. Daryl smiled softly at the girl and leaned down to pick her up, placing her in her highchair. Once he was sure she was settled and wouldn't fall off, he got settled in the chair next to her, listening to Hazel's happy babbling.

Soon enough, you reentered the dining room with a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. The aroma of the meal made Daryl's mouth practically water. The last time he'd eaten spaghetti was when Aaron had invited him, and that was a good couple of months ago.

“It smells fuckin' good,” Daryl said without thinking, and instantly regretted his choice of words.

“Fuck,” Hazel repeated happily, completely oblivious to the horrified look that spread over Daryl's face, and the amused one that spread over yours.

“Nah, Hazelnut, dun' say tha'. Dun' ever say tha',” he told her hurriedly, his heart beating faster at his mistake.

“Fuck,” Hazel giggled.

“No, I jus' said—” Daryl started, shooting you a worried look. However, he calmed down when he saw your amused smile. “Wha's so funny?”

“You,” you told him, laughing lightly while serving everyone some food. “Don't look so worried. I'm not gonna bite your head off because of one slip up. If I had a penny for every time I accidentally slipped up since she was born, I would've been able to buy a yacht in the old world. You're good, don't worry.

“Okay, but we can't have her goin' around sayin' tha', though,” Daryl said, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“You're right about that,” you started, turning to look at Hazel. “Baby, you can't say fuck, okay? That word belongs to Daryl. Until he's ready to share that word, you can't say that, alright?”

“Okay, Mama,” Hazel replied, starting to eat her food rather messily.

Daryl chuckled softly at the girl before turning to his own food. He started eating as well, the flavours of the delicious meal melting on his tongue. He wanted to gulp it all down but he resisted the urge, instead eating with a decency he never knew he had.

The meal was mostly spent in silence, save for Hazel's happy babbling and the occasional input from you or Daryl. Daryl did, however, sneak glances at you when you weren't looking, admiring your beauty and the soft, loving way you acknowledged your daughter and the tenderness you used when you wiped her face clean of the sauce.

Unbeknownst to the archer, you had also been sneaking glances at him. Admiring his gentleness with your daughter, the way his eyes softened and the quiet chuckles he would let out whenever Hazel did something amusing, or the small smiles he gave you. It was amazing how important Daryl had become to you and Hazel in a span of a few months. The big, gruff, quiet man with a heart of gold, who had invaded your thoughts and your heart.

The meal was soon done and Hazel's eyes were beginning to droop. You noticed it and got up to take her out of her highchair. She instantly layed her head down onto your shoulder and closed her eyes, and you placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“You tired, baby?” you cooed, rubbing her back gently. When she simply responded by nuzzling her face deeper into your shoulder, you laughed fondly and turned to Daryl, sending him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I should probably get this little rascal to bed. You can stay here, I'll be right back.”

However, as soon as you said that, Hazel interjected. “Dar tuck me in with Mama?” she asked innocently, lifting her head up to look at Daryl.

Daryl looked surprised. He locked eyes with you, his heart fluttering at the smile you sent him.

“If Daryl's okay with it,” you whispered.

“Yeah, 'course,” Daryl replied, nodding his head.

You motioned for him to follow you upstairs and he obliged. Together the two of you descended up the stairs and into Hazel's bedroom. Daryl stopped in the doorway, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but you had other ideas. You gently took his hand and led him into the room, only letting go of it to tuck your daughter into bed. Daryl subconsciously placed his hand on your shoulder instead, watching place your little girl into bed.

Hazel was already half asleep when you put her into her bed. She instantly curled up into her pillow and let out a big sigh, her eyes opening only slightly. In her view, she saw you, her mom, the woman who always protected her when the two of you were living on the road outside the walls, and always loved her despite her shenanigans. And Daryl, the man who at first had been kind of mean, now always there for both her and her mom. The man who started to feel like a daddy to her.

“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” Hazel mumbled, her eyes closing and she drifted into slumber. In seconds, she was out cold.

Time froze for a moment. Daryl's eyes widened and his heart practically pounded out of his chest. There was no way that he had heard it right. There was no way that Hazel had just called him dad. There was no way that Hazel trusted and loved him enough in those few months to see him as her father. She couldn't, could she?

He turned to look at you and noticed the unreadable expression on your face. You didn't address what she had just said, however, and Daryl was too nervous to bring it up himself.

“We should probably let her sleep,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and followed you out the door.

Together, the two of you descended down the stairs and back into the dining room. You turned to look at Daryl and motioned towards the living room.

“You can wait in the living room. I just wanna put the dishes in the sink and then I'll join you.”

“Nah, let me help,” Daryl protested, moving over to grab all the dishes.

Before you could protest, Daryl walked into the kitchen. You quickly followed behind him and watched him put the dishes in the sink, but before he could start washing them, you quickly stopped him.

“No, it's okay. I'll wash them tomorrow,” you assured him. “Do you want some wine?”

Daryl nodded and hummed, silently observing as you grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, as well as a bottle of wine. You placed the glasses on the counter before popping the the bottle open, pouring the two of you each a glass of wine. You handed him the glass and propped yourself onto the counter, letting your legs swing below you.

Daryl leaned against the counter and took a sip of his wine, humming in approval at the taste. “S'good. Thanks.”

“It's nothing, really. I've been wanting a reason to open the bottle for a while now.”

“Ya can't jus' drink it whenever ya want?” Daryl questioned, taking another sip from the glass in his hand.

“I could, but I prefer not to. I don't want to be like—” you started, but abruptly stopped. You hurriedly took a sip of your wine, welcoming the taste in your mouth.

“Like who?” Daryl asked, frowning at the uncomfortable look on your face.

You hesitated for a long moment, not sure if you should tell Daryl about your past problems. You were afraid that Daryl would look at you differently if you revealed anything. However, as you looked into his eyes, you only saw care and concern, so you found yourself confiding in him.

“Hazel's father,” you said, pursing your lips at the thought of the man you hated more than anything.

“Wha' was he like?” Daryl asked, placing his glass down on the counter. He turned his full attention to you, his eyes trailing over your face for any shift in emotion.

“He was a fucking asshole,” you spat angrily, clenching your jaw in anger. “He was a raging alcoholic and a frequent drug user. He didn't even stop when Hazel was born. If anything, it got worse. I tried so hard to get him sober, but nothing worked. He always yelled at me and threatened to hurt Hazel whenever I brought it up. And then one day, when I woke up, he was just... Gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. Hazel was barely one year old.”

Daryl frowned deeply, anger bubbling inside him at the thought of someone hurting you and Hazel so badly. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

“Not too long after that, the world went to shit. His sister came to pick us up and took us to her camp, and that's where I saw that asshole again. He treated Hazel so badly and got the other people in the camp to be mean to her. Hazel didn't even do anything wrong, but they all ganged up on her. Thankfully it never got physical, but that really scarred her. It went on until the camp got overrun, and all of those fuckers got what they deserved. The only reason Hazel and I got out was because his sister helped us. She sacrificed herself for us. After that, Hazel and I were on our own for more than a year. I'm surprised that I managed to keep us alive for that long on my own, but I managed. And then Aaron and Eric found us and the rest is history.”

Daryl was speechless. It angered him that someone would hurt you like that, would hurt little Hazel like that. And the fact that you had to survive on your own for that long... It amazed him. He wished that he could've found you earlier and have protected you and Hazel from all those horrors, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only ensure that nothing ever touched you in the future.

“Yer a strong woman. The fact tha' ya went through all tha' and managed to keep Hazel alive and love her unconditionally proves tha'. Yer amazing and I hope ya know tha'.”

You were taken aback by the sudden confession, but soon a smile spread across your face. You hopped off the counter and stood in front of him, almost chest to chest. You looked up at him, your faces close enough to close the remaining distance between your lips.

“You're amazing too. I don't think you realise how much you mean to Hazel, how much you mean to me.”

With that, you closed the remaining distance between your lips. You pressed your lips against his softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. After a moment of shock, Daryl kissed you back feverishly, pulling you closer by your hips. You gasped against his lips, allowing Daryl to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his lips and pressed yourself harder against him, eliciting a groan from the man.

As soon as you pulled away for air, you tugged Daryl by the lapel of his vest. “Wanna take this to my room?” you whispered, breathless from the ravenous kiss.

“Wha' 'bout Hazelnut? Won't she wake up?” Daryl asked, pressing his forehead against yours.

“No. She's out cold. The chances of her waking up are basically nonexistent.”

Daryl let out a deep breath and nodded, allowing you to pull him up the stairs. The two of you soon stumbled into your room, hurriedly closing the door and pawing at each other's clothes. However, when you reached for Daryl's shirt, he stopped you, a pained look on his face.

“What's wrong?” you asked, a worried look on your face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ya didn't do anythin'.”

“Then what's wrong?” you asked him gently, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Talk to me. I won't judge.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. “I didn't have a good childhood,” was all he said before slowly removing his shirt.

Your eyes hungrily trailed over his body, your hands reaching forward to press against his chest. You didn't understand what Daryl was talking about until you got a glimpse of his back in the mirror in your room. The scars on his back were jagged, and you instantly knew what they meant; someone had hurt this perfect man before you, and you felt so angry.

You walked behind him. “May I?” you whispered, your hands hovering over his back.

Daryl hesitantly nodded. You softly ran your fingers over his scars, your touch feathery light. The archer shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes at the feeling. Before meeting you, the only feeling that he would ever associate with his back was pain from his father's cruelty, yet there you were, tracing over his scars as if they were priceless paintings in a museum.

Soon your fingers were replaced with your lips, and Daryl's eyes flew open. Your lips softly kissed over his scars, trailing down to the last scars on his lower back. When you were done, you turned him around to face you. You gently cupped his cheek, a small smile on your face.

“You're perfect to me, Daryl. You're so sweet, kind and caring. Hell, my daughter called you dad. That says plenty.”

“'M perfect?”

“You're perfect.”

That was all you had to say for Daryl to pull you into another fiery kiss. The two of you soon toppled onto your bed, spending a night filled with passion together.

That next morning when Hazel woke up and walked into your room, she was pleasantly surprised to find Daryl sleeping there, holding you, her mama. She was, however, confused that when she woke the two of you up, you clutched the sheets to your bodies and refused to let her climb under them with you like you normally would do.

—

Two years later...

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Hazel. Happy birthday to you!”

You and Daryl cheered as Hazel blew out the candles on her homemade cake. Hazel laughed as she struggled to blow out the last one of the five candles on the cake, eliciting soft chuckles from you and Daryl. When she finally managed to blow it out, you and Daryl handed her each a gift. She clapped her hands excitedly. She got up from her seat and ran to hug you and Daryl, which you both returned.

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with a big smile, eyeing the wrapped gifts on the table.

“Dun' thank us yet, Hazelnut,” Daryl responded with a smile. “Go ahead and open 'em.”

Hazel hurriedly opened each of the gifts and gasped with delight, holding up a colouring book, new crayons and a new doll. She giggled in excitement at the gifts.

“Can I go show these to Judith? We can colour and play dolls together now!”

You laughed and nodded. “Sure, baby. Just be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?”

“Okay!” she agreed and took off in a run, throwing the front door open and disappearing out of it.

“I can't believe she's growin' up so fast,” Daryl mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I know, right? She'll be moving away from home soon enough,” you joked.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, chuckling at your joke.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, turning around in the archer's arms. “I got something for you, too.”

“Fer me?” he asked in confusion, frowning slightly. “Why? It ain't my birthday for another couple of months.”

“I know, but this can't wait that long. Here,” you said, handing him a small box.

Daryl gingerly took the box from your hands and opened it. His eyes widened at the item inside, picking it up and looking at it. After examining it for a couple of moments, he confirmed that his mind wasn't playing a trick on him—it was a positive pregnancy test.

“Yer—Yer pregnant?” he asked, a smile spreading over his face.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding your head. A laugh escaped you when Daryl picked you up and spun you around, before he placed you back on the ground and pulled you into a kiss.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours. “Hazelnut's gon' have a baby sibling. We're gon' have another kid.”

“We are,” you agreed, closing your eyes. “I love you, Daryl.”

Daryl placed a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I love ya too. And I already love tha' little peanut in yer belly.”

“Hazelnut and Peanut, huh?”

“Yeah. Our two babies. Our own little family,” Daryl said, placing his hand on your stomach, over the life that was growing there.

“We have Hazel to thank for this. If she didn't instantly like you back then, this might never have happened,” you told him, placing your hand over his.

“Remind me to thank her when she gets back later. But fer now, let's enjoy our alone time,” Daryl replied suggestively, tugging you with him as he walked backwards towards the stairs.

“I like that idea.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #domestic!daryl #dad!daryl #stepdad!daryl #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus

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lyomeii · 9 months

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the new duchess ronan

-> warnings: yandere themes, reader is called ‘mom’ and ‘mother’, mentioned abuse towards Charlize, reader literally dying of sadness in the first timeline, duke being jealous, gaslighting, reader gets sad and desperate.

-> request by anon! Hi! Can you do yandere Duke Ronan and new Duchess Ronan reader who always protects Charlize from her brothers and father? And when she decides to run away with Charlize, but Duke Ronan knows the plan. Thank you

-> a/n: I see…you got a type in man, don’t you anon? jk asides, it’s really fun to have someone requesting Duke Ronan and quite unexpected too. it’s was fun to write this.

-> a second marriage was a surprising news for everyone, specially the children of the dukedom who jaws were in the floor seeing their stepmother entering the living room with a smile in the face and gifts on the hands. they were suspicious at first, but quickly they warmed up with your presence, include the youngest of them, charlize.

-> the platinum blonde girl loved having you around, having someone that finally cares about her is more than enough to make Charlize happy with your arrival and rapidly, she began calling you ‘mom’. holding your hands whatever she wants with you, wanting to be carried once is possible and receive goodnight kisses from you every night.

-> those things are the main reasons she was happier, more alive and more comfortable to be out of her bedroom. there was no denying that you and the youngest ronan had a special relationship despite the many attempts from your husband and sons to break it. so it’s easy to say that you became a sobbing mess once Charlize suddenly disappeared.

-> not receiving any news from her whereabouts after that day she left the dukedom with a kiss and hug from you changed you completely. the gazebo where you spend time with her slowly ruined as you just sit there, deluding yourself that she would hug you from behind or maybe that she would call you from her bedroom to see something she just got.

-> you became a shallow version of yourself after losing your sweet daughter. the servants notice how you refuse to eat most of the time and your remaining family see how you stayed in charlize chambers when there was nothing to do. as much they tried to help you, nothing changed as you just rest down on your shared bedroom. waiting for your final breath.

—

duke ronan’s hand was gentle when removing the locks of hair away from yours eyes, making it possible to see him sitting next to your figure. a smile on his face as you take notice of him.

“what do you want?” your voice is harsh, no longer a sweet tone. and your eyes are cold now. “I already told you to leave me alone.”

despite your words against him, the man pressed a kiss on your forehead as he holds one of your hands. he is afraid of losing you, his eyes can show it to you and feeling him shaking in fear is also another way to notice it. he tried a lot of things and yet, nothing brought your health back, not even magic.

your skin is no longer warm, it’s felt almost like touching a cold stone from the garden, but he still loves you deeply. this man has fallen in love with so much that he is willing to give anything to make you happier, however, there is nothing he can do to brought your health back.

“I’m just checking your state, my dear.” he smiles, feeling your touch in his hands. “The boys are becoming even more worry about you, it’s been a while since you got up from bed.”

“whatever.” you rolled your eyes and took your hands away from him, wanting to be alone for longer. he should knows better than trying to act as the good guy after what he did with charlize before she disappeared. “I want to be alone, now leave.”

—

-> your death was a peaceful one, you were sleeping once happened, making your departure less painful. in the end, you believed that you would enter a eternal rest alongside others that you once loved…that was a naive thing to believed.

-> like it was just a bad dream, you suddenly wake up back in the past. not longer having those empty and lifeless eyes nor those fragile bones due the malnutrition, you are back to that young and happily version of yourself…could this mean that charlize is back too?

-> there was no time to waste as you rapidly got up from bed, not caring if you are wearing your pajamas nor the maids screaming from your name all over the halls, they don’t really matter. once you open her bedroom door to see your precious daughter sleeping, a smile grown in your face and immediately, you went to kiss and hug her numerous times, in the process you ended up waking up the girl.

-> of course, charlize was as much surprise as you are. to come back in time is one thing, but having her mother alongside is another and that made her so happy. the two of you began spending more time together than ever before, making your husband infuriating about it.

-> he began asking why you spend more time with your stepdaughter than your own husband. it’s clear as water that he was jealous of his own daughter, making you angry at him for it. how could a grown man act this way? an argument start between the two of you only to pause when his sons step in to separate their father away from you, making things even more difficult now.

-> then things start getting even more problematic, guards began escorting you whatever place you are and the duke himself always make you have all the meals with him and his own sons. the only reason you attend it is because charlize is there, quiet as mouse, but at least she is there to make things more easier and bearable, even though the others are visible of her presence.

-> soon, it’s time to charlize leave to work as one the prince’s tutor and of course, you are planning to come with her. the whole process was supposed to be secret and quiet one, just to make sure the duke won’t be suspicious or angry at the two of you. it was a good plan until akan (the first brother) discovery that you were planning to run away.

-> there was no deny that he was furious about you leaving him, dante (the second brother) and his own father behind! how could you do such thing to them? the boy began to tear up and this brought everyone’s attention towards you, even making the duke and dante coming to your direction. at least, charlize made her escape when everyone was going crazy about your failed attempt of escaping.

-> the duke, of course, yelled at you for acting like this. a mixed of anger and sadness was in voice as he lectured you for being reckless in acting this way. he gave you everything! a home, money, expensive gifts and a loving family, then you throw everything away just to abandon it because of charlize? the man is now desperate.

-> locking you inside the manor with multiple maids and guards following, making sure you won’t try to run away from the duke and his sons. transforming you in a prisoner of the same place you called home for years. as the very same man who promised to love you become the one responsible for your imprisonment.

-> life slowly become boring, there isn’t much thing to do as your husband locked you inside and even your own sons don’t let you step in the garden for fresh air, so it didn’t take much time you become that old version of yourself, the one that don’t care about anything or anyone.

-> the three men, of course, are desperate seeing you becoming a shallow version of yourself. you become unable to walk as meal stop being eating, not walking anyone as you refuse to get up from bed and the curtains closed to prevent the sunlight enter your bedroom. this made them so worry about you.

-> and now you are struck in a wheelchair until you get healthy enough to walk on your own, and dante (feeling a little guilty of it) always accompany you to daily walks around the garden with a smile on his lips. sometimes akan and the duke join, but mostly, it’s just you and your youngest son.

-> the duke brings breakfast on the bed, being the one to feed you when you refuse to pick the utensil or when you can’t barely stare at him. seeing you eating the little amount of food from the tray is already much a win for the nobleman, after all, you didn’t eat anything before.

-> in the afternoon, akan visits you whatever he is free, reading you a book and even introduce his wife to you. the girl is lovely, that’s for sure, the sweet smile on her face and desire to become a mother is truly inspiring. it’s sad that she and akan got into that argument one night, it was quite sad seeing that women crying at your lap and slowly realize that she might become like you.

———————————————————————————

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #manhwa imagine #i tamed a tyrant and ran away #i tamed a tyrant and ran away x reader #yandere duke ronan #Duke Ronan x reader #charlize ronan x reader #charlize x reader #yandere charlize Ronan #x female reader #female reader #x female y/n

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augustvandyne · 4 months

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Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there

everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too

nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)

this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!

hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.

safehouse

You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.

You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.

That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.

So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.

You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.

“Babe—“

“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.

“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.

“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.

“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“

“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.

“What?” Steve whines.

“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.

“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.

“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.

“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.

The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.

You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.

“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.

“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.

You sigh and purse your lips.

“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”

You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.

“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.

Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”

“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.

“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.

You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.

Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.

Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.

You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.

Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.

“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.

“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.

“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”

“Thank you.”

Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.

Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.

So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.

“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.

“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”

“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”

“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.

“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.

“I had a feeling,” You look down.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.

Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.

#marvel #marvel x reader #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #thor odinson #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw post #send asks

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amxrany · 6 days

Text

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Going into Vil's dream now lesgoooooo (warning i cannot find a lot for vil's segment for some reason so if i miss a lot of information im so sorry):

So I understand why they released Tapis Rouge before this update, because we are now in The Queen's Film Studio, where Vil tells everyone to look forward to live broadcast of the Diamond Film Awards (this is most likely a reference to another Diamond in-game)

(sheesh new vil outfit again)

But basically yeah Vil's dream is to be the fairest of them all and he got Neige as his assistant 😭

Rook sees that it is indeed Neige, and the group tries to get closer to Vil. But Vil called Grim a stray cat and shooed him away, he's now sad :((

Vil assumes we're paparazzi and tells Neige to throw us out, and we find out that Vil just abuses Neige. So the group tries to convince him to report Vil, but Neige becomes blot and tries to fight the group

(I like their weapon it looks neat)

They defeat Neige but security is now after their ass, and it's revealed that Diamon Film Awards is a type of awards show for actors and that in reality, Neige was the one who won the award. But in this timeline, it's Vil who wants the award. Not understanding how Vil changed, Idia mentions that Malleus's magic allows them to experience happy dreams, and those dreams can also release any resentment you hold deep inside.

We then go to Vil receiving his award, but Rook stops him by telling him his time in NRC, but Vil tells him he doesn't know what he's talking about; and we go through the dizzy-but-is-trying-to-remember-everything segment again. However, the darkness was swallowing Vil up, and we couldn't save him in time because Neige managed to sink him down even further but Rook used his unique magic to follow Vil

So basically this next dream is the "What if Vil succesfully poisoned Neige and won VDC" scenario, we're in the part where Neige actually drank the poisoned apple juice and yknow, dies, and the dwarves are surrounding him crying

Epel uses "Sleep Kiss" to see if there's still a chance in saving him and let's just say it's the most Snow White reference I've ever seen. Oh and Rook is on the verge of breaking down

On stage, Vil's team has won VDC, but Rook and Epel come in to stop Vil by reminding him how he overblotted, and that causes Vil to wake up. Vil is back to normal and he's grateful that Rook and Epel came to save him and Epel said of course, we're your hunter and poisoned apple after all

The darkness comes back again to swallow Vil, but Rook and Epel aren't letting go. But idia orders Ortho to tell Rook and Epel to let Vil go. So you guys remember that one part during the last update where Idia fight his own phantom in OB!Form? Yeah we're doing that too but with Vil.

It's similar to that of the concept of Persona 4, where you learn how to accept yourself, even the ugly parts of yourself. Because Vil decided to use his weakness as his strength and overblotted to fight against his own phantom

MORE EVIL LAUGHTER AS VIL CELEBRATES HIS VICTORY DECLARING THAT HE'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF THEM ALL. We are then transported back to the fake event with Dream Neige where Vil tells him that he is indeed the most beautiful of them all (that is so true queen go slay)

Pomefiore all go in for a hug, and the others join in as well

Sebek was surprised that Pomefiore wasn't just all about beauty, but they were really strong as well, and then Idia thought it was funny to show their Absolutely Beautiful cover in which Vil proceeds to ruthlessly criticize them for it 💀

Vil receives his own invitation of deafeating Malleus and that's where the update ends

HOOOO BOY where do i start, this update is so funny it honestly took me forever just to look for parts of Vil's segment. But assuming that we're going backwards the next update will most likely focus on Scarabia so manifesting that we get a Kalim card next so that we can complete the light trio fr fr

Anyways, see you soon in the next update!

Previous: Rook's Dream

#rany talks about twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #twst spoilers #diasomnia #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #for some reason I don't see a lot of people talking about vil's segment that i had to dig thru multiple threads just to do this #but i've finished and im really excited for the next part and yes i will update the masterlist later

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

Text

You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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trashmouth-richie · 2 months

Text

the raven told me of you

eddie x female reader

crafted from this prompt list by: @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @allthingsjoeq

summary: eddie is released after six months of being behind bars with a false identity, he was never lonely because you were there with him, until you weren’t. now, coming home to a new life with his old name granted back to him. he navigates flashbacks, and trying to settle back in with wayne in private protective seclusion, alone— or is he?

8.1k

tw: 18+ angst. fluff of a new relationship, light smut— s1, s4 canon events with reader inserted into the timeline, mentions of insanity, death, witness protection, government cover-ups etc. this could be a continuation or stand alone fic of your touch but is not necessary to read.

releasing: thursday 3/7

Owens’ worked his charms. The government covered up the mass hysteria and pinned the murders of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred on an accidental chemical reaction from arsenic, radiation and terpenoids. The results left their bones liquified from the toxic lick of acid and torqued before solidifying once again.

The Hawkin’s Post called it ‘a combination of sickly tainted water from the school cafeteria.’

Parents were urged to have their children tested at the local clinic for extra precautions, and thankfully no one else had been affected.

On Thursday the Eighteenth of September, at approximately 1300 hours… an hour into quiet personal time, Mr. Edward Munson, was once again, a free man.

At first he thought it was possibly a mistake, a horrifying joke fed by his many delusions. But when they called him into the warden’s office, he sat across an oak desk from a tall man with a skin bald head, shining like a lightbulb.

He used Eddie’s full name—not the persona he was given— and gave him ten minutes to collect his belongings. It was then he came to realize that maybe he wasn’t crazy after all.

Six long months in the clink with his brain spinning hallucinations beyond his control he wasn’t sure if he’d come out of it without a government issued lobotomy— and in the blink of an eye, it came to an abrupt end.

Prison was cold, unwelcoming in shades of gray coating the ceilings, walls, floors, any service imaginable. As if there was one color sanctioned to the American Prison system and gray was the less costly option.

Concrete was probably more pliable than his bed was. The food was impeccable— if you were a raven on a mealworm diet. It was just shy of hell, and it made the inhabitants calloused to a helping hand or squirreling away from making friends.

Seven months prior, Eddie was in his prime. For the first time in his life he was happy with where he was at, school was almost over and he had a true chance of walking the stage of graduation.

And you, he had you.

Beautiful, charismatic, sweet you.

It was almost like he conjured you up himself with a hard roll against a plyboard table of a twenty sided dice. Mesmerizing eyes that seemed to shimmer in any light, a smile that could soften Medusa’s rocky stare. You were perfect.

The first time his eyes laid on you was across the cafeteria. Everyone moved with the mundane routine, but you were shining like a spotlight had been placed on you overhead.

Your soft skin beckoned him like a moth to a flame. Smooth as silk, and he started to wonder what would your flesh feel like in his hands…would you cower away from their roughness?

His mind raced, and his heart pumped firmly whenever you walked past him, you smelled like ripe fruit, warming by the sun, and Eddie began to understand why Eve was tempted so easily.

And so began the daily task of seeking you out. He was able to spot you like Waldo amongst the boring gray faces of every other girl.

You shone like a gem, a sapphire filled with the darkest of depths, and like an enthusiast to your craft, he wanted to know the breadth of your soul.

His gem.

It was by total chance that he stumbled upon you after months of stray glances. He was walking backwards, yelling to Gareth about being on time for Hellfire that night, when he bumped into something that yelped in surprise.

It was you.

Sprawled and landing hard on your butt. Papers scattered from the collision of your face mashing into a denim patchwork vest.

He stumbled over your feet, falling beside you in a mess of curls and cigarettes, the one between his lips still intact. Your eyes met his for the first time, and that’s all it took for him to fall head over feet, in this case Reeboks, Eddie was a goner.

Your smile spread a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. And your laugh? Made his knees physically weak.

He still didn’t know how he managed to swing it, but he charmed you into agreeing to a ride home. Conversation came easy with you. You were sweet yet comical, a bit of a smart ass. He was grinning like an idiot.

Chatting about books, then music, he bantered back and forth, teasing on your choice of horror, astounded in your tastes— but nevermore, he was enthused, enamored.

Witty and shit giving, you had him wrapped around your finger before the van pulled in front of your place. A permanent dimple pecked into his cheek that wouldn’t subside no matter how hard he tried.

A ten digit number exchanged on lined paper was the start of the end. A corny fist pump and a pep talk on his jaunt back to the trailer park.

Eddie was living on cloud nine.

He called you that night, foregoing any dumb advice he had seen in movies or heard at school at waiting a certain amount of days or hours, he went on pure instinct alone, and almost threw up all over himself after punching the last number.

You answered with your name after saying a proper greeting and he stumbled over his own tongue before choking out that it was him.

“Sorry who?” you had teased, Eddie’s heart fell into his stomach with relief when you giggled on the other end, “are you calling to sell me some boy scout popcorn, because cheddar is my favorite… but for you I might just buy a tin of caramel.”

A heart laugh erupted from his trailer, loud and barking. “Boy Scouts weren’t really my thing, princess.”

“Ah,” you reasoned, “knots too hard?”

He laughed again, that damn dimple achingly prominent as he smiled through the receiver, and you swore you could hear his cheeks squeak, “something like that.”

An hour had passed and Eddie found himself in the snares of coiled phone cords as he wore a pattern from his bedroom to the kitchen, fiddling with things left on the counter. Even going so far as to start a load of laundry and empty the sink.

You too were in the trenches, living solely on the scraps of information of Eddie’s life that he tossed to you like a pigeon in a park.

He was smart, filled with colossal amounts of knowledge on anything from cars, to reading sheet music. He had an ear for rhythm, cocky enough to have you hum a tune so he could pick up on it, and add to it. Eddie was a closeted genius under the untamed curls.

“Shit— I’m talking too much, huh? " he asked after a long winded speech about a campaign he was planning for the freshman in Hellfire. “I get carried away sometimes,” he admitted with a chuckle, a ripple of embarrassment heating over his body in a wave.

“Not at all,” you eagerly replied, “tell me more about Kas!”

“Well princess, I could show you, if you wanted?” He prayed you’d say yes, to whom or what he was praying to— hewasn’t sure, just crossed fingers and pinched his eyes shut in hopes that you wouldn’t think he was some loser yanking his dick to figurines and elf lore.

But you didn’t, you had said yes faster than he finished asking. And from there— it was history.

He went to bed with a spinning head and a heart wrapped in lace, sugar coated with your sweet voice in his ear, the same lopsided grin he had worn since tripping over you at school.

—

Stepping out into the first breath of freedom, the sun felt heavy on his skin. It itched his arm hairs, the heat touching his neck for the first time in years since he grew out his hair. The brightness stung his eyes.

He had become accustomed to the hollowing sag of fluorescent lights paling his skin to almost translucency, a true dracula in the pits of a four walled hell.

A croaked caw is loud overhead, singular— followed by a fluttering of wings, and the bend of a tree limb.

The clothes he wore didn’t feel like him, the ripped cotton Hellfire shirt wasn’t clean coming in and wasn’t clean coming out, Shredded where the demobats feasted on him like a hotdog at a ball field.

His jeans stunk of decay and murky water from the gate. Caked with mud, dried several times in the days of being on the run, the jeans chafed his skin raw, gnawing on his leg hairs until they popped free, giving up the fight.

A manila envelope held his rings, clashing together in a melodic tone. He slotted them one by one on the correct fingers, yet they felt loose, heavy and familiar all at once.

He was ready to pitch the envelope into a trash bin when he felt something else in the bottom, having to rip it apart to get to whatever was inside. When the ground was littered next to his waterlogged Reeboks, and his palm held the small silver item, his eyes brimmed with tears.

—3

The nightly phone calls soon turned to walks around the trailer park, Eddie listening intently as you strolled around the driveway, kicking up little clouds of dirt or catching the occasional rock with the toe of your sneaker.

He matched your steps, learning about your passions after graduation, how you favored sweets over salty treats, and the embarrassing truth of how after your friend Barb went missing, you didn’t have any friends at school.

“Well, now you have me,” he chirped earnestly, dark eyes squinting in the setting sun as he knocked his elbow with yours, a smirk on his lips, “I’ll take care of ya.”

It was as simple as that, and the easiness of it made your nose tingle with a burn as you fought back tears at his kindness.

Weeks of walking with you after school round and round Forest Hills— the scenery started to change.

The emerald grass faded into sharp tawny weeds. Foliage turned the color of autumn and the air began to crisp and chill.

It was then, on a windy Tuesday afternoon, that Eddie invited you into his home, he made sure to kick dirty laundry under his bed, hide the Playboys in the closet behind an old pair of shoes and empty the heaping ashtrays the night beforehand.

A jewel in a shit shack— you equally looked out of place and fit in with the cluttered belongings of his uncles at the same time.

“My castle.” he announced, bending low and holding the door open like a gentleman.

He showed you around the small square footage, taking less than fifteen seconds to point everything out.

“And that?”

“That’s.. my room.”

It was silly then, how nervous he was to let you into his space, even though during your walks you acquired everything there was to know about him.

—

Snow was on the ground when your after school routine of going to Eddie’s was as second nature to you as breathing.

You were sitting on his unmade bed atop the rumpled comforter and soft sheets, socked toes dangling from the side of the mattress. A textbook balanced in your lap, pencil between your teeth. Your eyebrows pinched in a studied strain as you tried to solve a calculus formula.

His voice had startled you, not sure when he had gotten up or how long he was standing at his desk, looking almost sick.

“Got something.. for you.. something dumb that I saw.”

He tried his damndest to be cavalier. But Eddie was everything but.

Ten dollars in quarters, more hours than he had spent in a pizza joint ever, and a hoard of tiny plastic containers from a machine holding costume jewelry, he had finally gotten what caught his eye.

A silver ring adorning a bat with an indigo colored stone in the center. It didn’t come close to the actual beauty you possessed but the blue stone reminded him of the way you moved through the crowd that day, like a rare gem.

Tired eyes focused on him, a nervous little twitch in his body didn’t go unnoticed as he fumbled with something behind his back, a wanton smile smirked on his lips.

You smile, adjusting the book from your lap and rubbing the pressure from your eyes, “a gift? Ed, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t have too,” he charmed, moving closer into your space, his jeans tickling the tips of your toes, “but… I wanted to.”

“Should I close my eyes?”

He chuckled, “sure sweetheart, hold out your hand,”

Your eyes shut tight, eyelashes squishing against your cheeks as you giggled, “why am I nervous?”

He stared at the rubber eraser shavings that clung to your bottom lip. The graphite on your fingers, a small hole in your jeans atop your knee, showing a smooth expanse of skin that he itched to touch. You had captivated him since the day you crossed his lazy stare in the lunchroom, and he thought of very little else.

He could still hear your squeals when you opened your eyes and saw the delicate ring in your palm. Still feel the way his heart raced when you jumped up and hugged his middle, squeezing him tight against you, the smell of your hair filling his nose with notes of strawberry, or was it peach?

He didn't realize he had the ring fisted in a vice grip until he felt blood in his palm, salty tears collecting in the thickness of his mustache, his lip quivering.

They’re wiped away in haste at the sound of a police cruiser. The familiar scent of thick gasoline exhaust and a camel cigarette follow with the squeak of his driver's door and release of weight on the suspension.

A towering frame crowds the sun from Eddie’s brow. A thick mustache sits square on an egg shaped skull, sunken cheeks replace a once plump face. But the drawl and cigarette smoke are welcoming just the same.

“Hey kid.”

—

Eddie was nervous.

The time you two had been spending together was making him feel giddy. You hadn’t kissed or so much as held hands yet but the air between you both had become filled with dense clouds of lust induced tension— it was hard for him to see straight.

He didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you only saw him as a friend, but tonight was the night the boundaries would cross, and he stood armed like a Paladin, ready to conquer his toughest quest yet, you.

Ice had built up on the broken concrete steps to Eddie’s trailer and your slick bottomed converse hit the glassy surface just right for you to slip backwards, falling into strong leather coated arms.

“We gotta stop falling into each other princess,” he chuckled, holding you tight with hands wrapped around your waist, “gettin’ too old for this nonsense.”

His scent invades you, encompassing you with hints of camels, a stick of big red gum, and starch powdered deodorant.

Your laugh bubbles out of your throat like a giggly champagne, “damn, you got me, totally do this on purpose, insurance claims. All the rage nowadays.”

He buffers for a bit as you tip forward on your feet and spin to face him, one step higher than he stands. “Only kidding,” you tease, grabbing his chin with icy fingers.

His doe eyes stare into yours, lost in the way you made his heart skip and his bones feel like jello, blood ablaze. He’s searching, searching your face for a giveaway— a sign.

And it happens like clockwork.

Your hands rest on either of his cheeks, thumb sweeping softly over the creamy silk of his skin, an audible sigh slides from his throat, followed by a giggle slipping from yours before your voice narrows to a whisper, “lighten up Munson.”

The salmon tone of his lips have gone more cherry colored in the cold, a little chapped from the frigid temps. Not the usually pinkish orangey hue they drew in warm light when he flustered over History notes and Chemistry study cards.

The apples of his cheeks were rosy like a cherub on a Valentine’s Day card, glittered with fancy text swirling of “Be Mine?”

Coal eyes shone with the bright overhead light from the trailer park. A deer caught in headlights.

Eddie was handsome in a way nobody in Hawkins was. A mane of curled brown locks, eyes to match. He was affectionate, easygoing, and you loved him the minute he crashed into you a few months ago.

Hands still on your waist he pulled you towards him, “Can’t,” he breathes, almost silently, a huff of air between you now, “not when I’m around you, never around you.”

Your fingers tangle together around his shoulders, braided in the hair at the nape of his neck, he shudders at the temperature change on his skin.

A quirk in your brow you tilt your head and wet your lips, “why’s that?”

He joins you on the crowded step, taller than you, peering into your face, heavy hands still on the waist, “for months, haven’t been able to think straight when you’re here,” his hands rub on your lower back making lazy circles under your coat with his blunt nails.

“Hmm..” you tease, twirling a curled lock of of the hair framing his face between your fingers, sultry eyes looking up at him in thick eyelashed innocence, “wonder why that is?”

The opening he was looking for, boundary lines down in overgrown grass as if he rolled a crit hit to whatever creature stood in his path was laid out for him.

His forehead comes to rest on yours, surprisingly warm in the cold, his nose like frost as it slid beside your own, bumping and sharing one breath.

“ ‘cause I’m crazy ‘bout you,” he finally admits, heart loosening, unrestricting, “and I can’t stop thinking what your lips would feel like with mine.”

He feels your smile on his mouth, the bated breath you’re holding teasing his tongue, “find out,” is all you can get mutter before his lips press gently to yours.

—

Hawkins was a few hours drive, longer yet after stopping at the nearest diner for a burger and fries. After staring at a menu for more than Hopper’s liking he ordered for himself and Eddie.

The coffee came in white ceramic mugs, the waitress setting them down in the designated spots that were already stained with rings of taupe, years of wear.

“Wayne’s all set up in a new trailer, living high off the hog or whatever he said during our weekly check-ins.”

Eddie ate in silence, chewing slowly, eating but not really tasting. What was freedom if you weren’t a part of it?

He’d be the first to admit that he talked to you when he was stressed. When he thought he couldn’t shut his eyes without seeing the horrific beings that crawled upside down from our world, he turned to your voice, feeling you wrap around him gave him a sense of hope.

“It’s not in Forest Hills, somewhere a little more private, government owned land.”

Eddie sipped at the bitter coffee, taking the burn in a big swig, letting it hurt. Nodding along as he watched his reflection in the dark cup.

—

Kissing you was like being able to breathe underwater, like the 1986 New Year’s fireworks over Lover’s Lake.

He kissed you at your door before school when he showed up every morning to drive you. He stole more kisses in his van, cursing the 8:15 bell, his hands on your waist pulling you further into him.

Standing by your locker, he kissed your cheeks as you dug for textbooks. He pressed his lips to your ear in the lunch line, making you squirm.

He kissed your shoulder when he sat behind you teaching you to play his guitar. Pressing the delicate pads of your fingers into the strings to play each chord with ease.

He’d groan into your neck, while pressing you into the couch, nipping your skin until his lips were raw.

“Where have you been my whole life?”

Your fingers are entwined in his hair, pulling his weight further into you, your legs wrap around his waist, “led astray, lost, so lost.”

He leans up, dark curtains of hair dangling into your face from your position on the saggy couch in the Munson living room.

He smiles a toothy grin, dimples breaching, “good thing I found you then, baby,” he sweeps a rogue eyelash from your cheek, “can’t escape me now.”

“wouldn’t want to even if I were dead.”

—

“Nope, hasn’t said a word, how do you know he can even talk?”

Owen’s sighs on the other end of the receiver, “he’s tough, but he’s been through a lot, needs time to recover, find out who he is again.”

Hopper takes a long drag of a cigarette, “yeah, don’t know about that one doc, he’s mute.”

Short trimmed nails scratch at a tuft of curly white hair, stationed somewhere in Nevada, “Alright, just get him home, I’ll call the uncle and let him know.”

—

Hugs lingered. Kisses deepened. Bodies pressed to one another in a staticky velcro of magnets, unable to peel apart.

Things were hot and heavy between you and Eddie. Smoky, tingly, a fog that had your blood pulsing places you didn’t know was even possible. You didn’t want to be apart, aching to explore every inch of him.

And he felt the same.

Together you set the plans into place.

He purchased the condoms, made sure his favorite mix of the slowest metal music he could find was ready to go. He washed his bed sheets and lit a dust covered candle.

You had done your own routine, showering and thoroughly scrubbing every surface of your skin, lathering a thick lotion on your body, and planting perfume in the direct places Cosmo described as, ‘irresistible’.

It wasn’t his first time. But it was yours.

Running his fingers through his bangs once more he took a last meticulous look around his room, crossing the trailer to answer the front door, where you had knocked quietly.

You were gorgeous, standing in a pair of light wash jeans and a buttoned red sherpa coat. A bag over your shoulder.

“There’s my girl,” he cooed, holding his arms wide and embracing you in his signature bone crushing hug. His lips found yours in a fevered second and he walked you backwards inside, flipping the deadbolt as he kicked the door behind him.

The duffle bag travels from your shoulder to his arm and he breaks away from your tempting lips. Holding your shoulder he pulls you into him, looking at you as he leads you to his room.

“Got everything you need? Toothbrush?”

You smile a little nervously, “check.”

“Okay, pajamas?” he inquires, “could wear mine if you wanted, you’d look pretty damn cute in my Garfield pants.”

“Packed and folded last night,” you say, tickling

his sides, “you were on the phone with me when I did it.”

He stops before crossing the threshold to his room, hands gently pressed to your cheeks, looking into your eyes in a serious manner.

“Are you sure? Like really sure?” his brows knit into concern, “I want you to be comfortable with this.. with me.”

You tug his shirt with a pinched grip, at his waist, staring back into his eyes, the truth on your tongue.

“I want you.”

—

Gravel spits up from the rubber tires as Hopper’s cruiser pulls off onto the secluded road. Eddie’s head hits the window hard with a thud, waking him from a dream.

“Home sweet home, kid.” Hop grunts, cranking the vehicle to a stop after traveling down a long twisting driveway thick with bordering trees and miles of woods on either side. A safe haven for a man deemed dead.

He could make out the taillights of his van, nestled in the tall grass beneath a willow tree, obscured from view. Wayne’s trusty Ford under the carport.

The overcast sky splayed a gray color against the new Munson home, and sitting on steps that weren’t broken, was Wayne.

The passenger door releases with a groan, and he inhales the fresh scent of dirt and summer grass. Finally, he feels like he can breathe.

Wayne’s familiar thin lipped grin is spread wide on his face, smoke lingering from a cigarette in an ashtray. His wet eyes gleam at the boy he once thought was dead, as he stands to greet his nephew.

“Hardly recognized ya with that short hair, Ed, and that beard?” he says rubbing a weathered hand through his own scruff, “givin’ me a run for my money son.”

He hadn’t seen his uncle since that friday morning in March. Unbeknownst to them both, in 15 short hours a cheerleader would die gruesomely in their living room, sprouting a world of chaos and demons, destruction, uncertainty and more carnage.

Hop had explained to Eddie that Wayne was compensated generously for his grief by the United States Government. He was told the ins and outs of what had happened and where Eddie was, and perched on land in a new house, he was told to wait.

—

Spring had sprung, the hard winter that seemed like it would never end was finally seeing its demise. March brought promises of new growth in the soil, and warmer days ahead.

It was a typical Friday, besides a morning pep rally for the laundry basket team after winning an important game the night before.

A pep rally you never attended.

Your back was pressed against the bathroom stall, skirt rucked up with the help of Eddie’s hand.

“We’re… gonna… get caught.” You rasped out between kisses.

His other hand was interlaced with yours high above your head, “probably,” he teased, tongue licking into your mouth, “it’s worth it though? Yeah?”

His hand travels further to the cotton waist of your panties, dragging them further and further down your thigh, his lips assaulting your neck, vibrating with your delicate moans.

“For you?” you question, hooking an arm around his shoulder, as your panties hit the ground, “always.”

He smiles into your lips as he pushes into your warm center, taking the breath from your lungs as you adjust to him, ass cheeks cold on the metal siding of the stall.

Your legs are wrapped into the crease where his elbow meets, his cock dragging in and out languidly, mouths hung open and tasting each other's ecstasy as your eyes drink one another up.

“Swear I’ve never, ever had someone like you, baby,” he gasped, bangs frizzing from being wet from a morning shower then covered in sweat.

Hips pistoning into you, he can feel your walls clench and tighten, your breath choked before you release, saying his name as if it’s the only word you can make out.

He cums hard. biting his lip and burying his face into your neck, “I love you, fuck I love you.”

It was the first time he had said it. He had known it for months, but today in the girls bathroom skipping a pep rally he could give a shit about, he figured it was the perfect place to say how he felt.

He’s still inside you when you say it back, spend leaking from you and onto the tiled floor. Your own eyes wet with the happiest of tears because no one has ever said that to you, not like this.

But this gorgeous man, in all his reputational flaws that didn’t mean shit, loved you. And you had never felt more emotion flooding through you all at once.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

—

Hopper didn’t stay for supper, patting his barely there belly and saying the missus was expecting him home tonight. He tipped a felt hat goodbye to Wayne and to Eddie, telling them to call if they needed anything.

He still hadn’t spoken, only nodded and waved curtly as the red tail lights danced down the tangled web of a driveway.

“Gonna make pork chops if you’re interested,” Wayne chirped, holding the door open for him as they climbed the same number of steps, “learned how to cook, can y’ believe that?”

He smiled softly, carrying his envelope of release papers and setting them on the table.

Everything from the old trailer was ruined. His guitar, all the band equipment he had stored in his room, the mattress that held more memories with you in them that he’d never get back— all gone, burned to a rancid fiery crisp when the fourth chime rang and Hawkins spread open like a festering wound.

The only thing he had of yours was the small bat ring with a sapphire stone.

Ten dollars in quarters at a shitty pizza place. He should have given you something real.

—

“.. yeah yeah and I was full of shit then,” Eddie grinned as Jeff and Gareth teased him about his graduation timeline. “This is my year, I can feel it.. ‘86 baby!”

He was always a flare for dramatics, dungeon master or not he amped it up for the freshman, acting like DnD was life or death, as if the cult of Vecna couldn’t be missed.

To be fair, he spent months on this campaign, late nights plotting and scrawling into a binder as you sat behind him, playing with his hair.

French braids then pippy styled pigtails, a cute bun on the top of his head with little hairs sweeping against his forehead and at the nape of his neck, perfect curls.

“Ten bucks says Wheeler cries when Vecna makes his return.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

Shoving Dustin and Mike with specific instructions to find a replacement player for Lucas, he sits down to his measly little lunch, leaning over to your space and whispering so only you can hear.

“After Hellfire tonight you wanna come over? Wayne bought a frozen pizza and I heard that Family Video finally got some good horror flicks in.”

Stealing a pretzel from his fingers you nod your head yes, “ I’ll get the movie, meet you at the trailer?”

The rest of the day dragged on. One boring class after another, students excited for the upcoming game, teachers unable to keep the roar of amped up Jocks under control, but alas the last bell finally rang. Releasing Hawkins High for Spring Break of ‘86.

Some kids went on vacation, others hunkered down with their friends. And some never made it back to school when classes resumed.

Walking down to his designated selling spot at the forgotten picnic table in the woods, he could have never imagined the trouble he’d be in just seven hours later.

—

Pork Chops seared in a pan with some butter and a chopped onion, Wayne had the news playing on the small tv in the kitchen, listening for the weather report.

The trailer was identical to the one lost to the rotting flesh of the Upside Down. Newer, and a damn sight cleaner, but the layout was exactly the same, except for an added bedroom with an attached bath on the opposite wall of the living room.

The filthy hat collection was replaced by odd cowboy decor and small wolf figurines. Eddie paced around the living room, touching the knick knacks that someone else had picked out not even questioning whether or not Wayne enjoyed this kind of stuff.

He had shown Eddie to his room, a navy blue carpet stretched across the floor, a queen sized bed against the back wall. New new new. Everything was foreign to him.

He would miss the heavy creak of a dresser drawer that didn’t shut properly, his closet door that fell off its track years before. Hell, he’d even miss the itch of the green wool blanket he kept on his bed in the winter months.

“Got your own bathroom too,” Wayne said cheerfully hovering in the doorway, hand rubbing the knob as he stared at the floor, “figured you’d wanna shower ‘fore supper, so I laid a towel out.”

Eddie turned his head nodding while he poked at the too soft blanket folded on his bed.

“It’s good to have you home, Eddie.” Wayne said, finally looking into his nephew’s eyes, “didn’t feel the same without you.”

Wayne wasn’t a coddler, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like he couldn’t be trusted, so he turned to leave, “shower’s got real good water pressure.” He takes a glance back at Eddie, and looks around the room before pulling the door shut behind him.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, turning away at the last second, avoiding the piercing color of Wayne’s eyes before they could break him down.

—

Ten o’ clock on the dot your car crunched onto the dusty driveway of Forest Hills. Eddie’s van wasn’t parked out front yet, but thankfully the Munson trailer was never kept locked.

The trailer smelled of old smoke and musk from two hard working men. Even if the laundry was never caught up, and greasy wrappers from a quick bite of a burger littered the counter— Eddie’s home was comforting to you.

You didn’t have to fumble around for the light switches anymore, walking in the dark you knew where the table could connect with your hip if you weren’t careful.

Ten steps from the kitchen, down the hall was his bedroom door, five steps back led to the bathroom. He had cleared a drawer for you to keep your clothes in, socks, extra pajamas, some of his favorite pairs of your underwear lived in the top drawer on the right.

The mirror on his dresser held a collection of pictures of the two of you from the photo booth at Starcourt Mall, movie ticket stubs, and the mint condition guitar he kept sacred.

A yawn escapes your tired mouth the warmth of a shower calls to you.

Grabbing a towel from the cabinet, the water sputters under the shower head as it always did, and familiar music floods your ears from the thin walls outside.

—

His reflection is gaunt, different than the last time he looked at himself, the night he struck the mirror in disgust.

He’s too happy to rid himself of the swamp smelling clothes that itched and scraped his skin. The lick of a flame would do them justice, good riddance to the worst time of his life.

The shower is bigger, the head double the size of the one he grew used to. The spray of scalding water hits his head like magma. Burning his flesh, washing away months of isolation, stale air, and stiff clothing.

The water released muscles in his back that had grown crimped from the thin cot he curled himself on. His fingers ran through the shorter length of hair on his head, just above his eyebrows realizing it now was long enough to drip water into his eyes.

He didn’t check the labels before rubbing whatever soap or shampoo it was into his skin, but the slide of it onto his pale and gummy mauled scars felt like butter on toast.

Registering the faint scent of a stixky sweet fruit he couldn’t determine if it was strawberry or peach, but the concoction had him clutching his chest, unable to breathe.

It smelled like you.

You. His best friend.

You. His first girlfriend.

You. The only person he has ever loved— so intensely, it killed him.

You you you.

His gem. All sapphire blues with depths beyond comparison to anyone else who simply peaked on the surface.

Gone.

“Ready whenever you are!” Wayne knocked on the door, “pork chop ain’t no good cold.”

He wipes the tears from his eyes. Regulates his breathing with labored intakes. And finally admits the thing he couldn’t for the past six months.

“She’s gone.”

—

“Sorry for the mess, maid took the week off.”

“You live here alone?”

Murmured voices are muffled under the rush of water from the shower, “Eddie?..that you?”

Shuffled steps get closer and the bathroom door swings open, Eddie’s eyes are wide, wild with excitement as they roam over your form.

He licks his lips, stalking towards you in a lazy manner with dark hooded eyes, “prettiest girl in the whole world in my bathroom?” His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, a breathtaking move leaving you giggly as his hand caresses your cheek, “hope you’re naked under these clothes.”

He presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, dipping you low and swinging you back up, he tastes like Mountain Dew and lingering hints of nicotine, spread with a wicked grin.

“I missed you, handsome,” you say, pressing your lips to his again, “so how was it? Did Mike cry when Vecna came back?”

Eddie barks out a laugh, rubbing his hands together, “think I might’ve seen a single tear fall, but they defeated him— crit hit by Sinclair’s sister.”

“Really? That’s.. impressive!”

“It was… shit, I’ve never been more proud of those little assholes.” His smile fades and you know he’ll miss being DM for them next year.

“Eddie?” A small voice asks from the living room.

Your brow quirks in question and he looks at you voice whispering low, “Chrissy Cunningham wants to buy ketamine.”

“What?!” you whisper back face struck in shock, “seriously?!”

Eddie nods, eyes wide in almost disbelief himself, “wanted a half ounce at first, but then said she needed something stronger.”

Your face pulls concern, honestly astonished that someone who seemed so prim and proper would want something like that. Eddie didn’t sell k normally you’ve been with him on multiple occasions and the only thing that was consistent with your peers of Hawkins High was weed.

“Do you even have it?”

“Dunno” he shrugs, lips in a frown, “told her I did because it’s an easy thirty bucks, but I could just crush up some tic-tacs… she wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Eddie? Did you find it?” Chrissy calls out in a nervous pitch.

“I can talk to her while you find something?”

“That’d be great,” he kissed you once more, lips buzzing, “two minutes!” He practically skips to his bedroom and shoots you a wink. Leaving you in a flight of butterflies lining your stomach. Helplessly in love.

—

Inhaling the hot cooked meal that didn’t taste like warmed up roadkill, Eddie sat in silence in a clean pair of clothes that weren’t his, listening to Wayne talk about what he’d been up to since they had last seen each other.

He burned with questions, needing, wanting, aching to know but the only thing he could blurt out came choked and almost suffocating on the use of his vocal cords.

“I need to see her.”

Wayne simply slurped his iced tea, setting the glass down heavy on the oak table, ice shifting. “Figured you would… want me to drive ya?”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head, “I need to go alone.”

With instructions from Wayne on the less traveled roads back to town, Eddie’s van sputtered to life in a cloud of backfiring smoke. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the passenger seat, he knew what would be there, and what wouldn’t.

Nothing was the same. Not anymore.

—

The boat floor was cramped, quite literally packed like sardines in a can, you were somehow lulled to sleep by the sway of Lover’s Lake waters and the even breathing of Eddie’s chest.

Your head tucked beneath his chin, he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could without crushing your bones.

Rick’s offered little comfort for an empty stomach outside of a moldy fruit bowl, an expired beer and a singular can of spaghetti o’s. But you were both safe for now. And that’s what mattered.

The kids, Steve Harrington— of all people— and Robin promised food and any information they could find without seeming suspicious. He was gracious for their companionship, needing something to keep him busy while trying to hide his own slip to insanity from you.

Your tears were endless, soft and steady one minute and the next you were wrecked, in a choked fit clinging to him for dear life.

Eddie’s mind played on replay of your trembling screams when Chrissy’s bones snapped like twigs and her eyes vacuumed out of her skull. Vecna, a made up character that he had been obsessing over for the past couple months for DnD was real.

Killing teenagers for what? World domination? Eddie and yourself were the ones on the run, knowing all too well how a dead cheerleader in his trailer would look to any cop with half a brain.

He’d run forever if it meant not losing you and killing Vecna for good. Everything he had ever known, books of fantasy and creatures that he drew for campaigns, it was all real, and these kids have been fighting it for years now.

The sound of tires crunching on the driveway had his ears perked like a guard dog, followed by three slamming doors. Instructions were given, and he could only imagine that whoever it was was in Rick’s house and it was only a matter of time before they noticed the boat house just like Mayfield had.

The walkie talkie Dustin left was clutched in his hand, you were both fucked, and needed help— now.

—

The Roane Hill Cemetery was eerily foggy, dew coated the hot blades of grass from the sweltered heat. Wayne drew a map on what section you were in. Apparently the number of people lost in the “earthquake” were in the upper digits now, and they were running out of land to bury the deceased.

Those not recovered were given markers slotted into the ground with accompanied by silk ribbons to symbolize hope. They were nestled up under a thick tree line, complete with a wrought iron fence.

He bubbled out a laugh when he crossed by his own empty grave. The headstone was covered in graffiti of wishes to burn in hell. Typical. His death date marked as ‘March 27 1986’. But that wasn’t true.

Lots of people passed that day when hell itself opened a crimson quaking flood. but not him. Although he wished he had.

Pushing forward, he knew had to be close now. The air was thick in the foggy whiteness— blinding him. A high pitched croak screeched from the sky, and he stumbled backward, landing on his ass with a wet thud, a spattering of grass grown wild in tender dirt.

His chest cavity sunk in, gasping for breath but coming up empty. Each threatened choke chipped away at him as his fists tore at the soft ground.

His girl. His gem. Laid to rest.

—

The Winnebago rocked on uneven suspension as Steve winded down the Indiana highway back to Hawkins. It was eerily quiet. Even Robin was silent, planning her mission in her head? You couldn’t be sure.

Tightening the bandana around Eddie’s curls you ask him if it feels okay.

“Yeah, course.”

Days of running. Hours of growling stomachs, unable to keep down food— you prayed this plan of Nancy’s would work, that Max would be able to lure Vecna with her vulnerable mind, that Eddie could distract the bats long enough to have the others attack his paralysis ridden body—it had to work— right?

Eddie sits and pulls you onto his lap, adjusting the spear made by the same eleven year old girl who defeated his campaign a few nights before. Erica, you learned, was a warrior.

“Nervous?” you asked throwing an arm around his neck and whispering into his ear.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “little worried.”

You believed in the plan, in the younger kids, in Steve Nancy and Robin who had been fighting stuff like this from a different dimension for years. They were trustworthy and intelligent.

“It’s gonna work babe,” you encouraged, stroking his cheek, “we’ll clear your name, graduate, and then leave this hell hole, together.”

He looks at you with strained eyes, wetter than usual, “you and me?”

Staring back at him you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss, “forever.”

—

He laid there until the sky turned to ink. Speaking to you in his head, knowing in his deepest of hearts that you could hear him. Telling you how he had missed you, how your beautiful smile played like a film in his brain. How he loved you. and hours have told you sooner, more, every day.

He told you how he wished he was gone too. Would you like that? It could be so easy to do.

Tracing his fingers over the formal font of your engraved name. He smirked at the silly spelling of your middle name.

It was comforting.

Eddie hadn’t felt this sense of calm since the day you hadn’t come back to him in the mirror, and he thought whatever magic spell was broken until you reached for him one last time, promising to never leave.

But you did, and he was alone.

Standing upright, he let out a sleepy yawn, “can I come by tomorrow?” he asked, “would you be okay with that?” He smiled, and bent at the knee to press his lips into the stone above your name.

“Oh,” he remembered, fishing your ring from the breast pocket of his borrowed flannel shirt, “look what I found.”

He held it to your stone, “this belongs to you, baby, I want you to have it.”

Placing the small ring on the smooth base of your tombstone, he gets back up, knees clicking like he’s years older than he actually was.

“See you tomorrow, my sweet gem.”

—

The night air shifted on his drive home, blowing a chilling breeze from the north that whipped his hair around his ears. The van struggled on the drive home with each gust that blew against the metal frame.

“Think we’re in for a storm tonight.” Wayne said when Eddie breached the front steps, straightening his arm, “ol elbow’s actin’ up.”

“Kinda cold for September, right?”

“All of a sudden it dropped about thirty degrees, somethin’s a brewin’.”

Wayne had his truck keys wrapped around a finger, “I gotta go check on Miss Pam, her husband died in the uhh.. anyway, she’s not doing well and you remember how those damn lights always went out? I’ll be back after while.”

Eddie grew a smile, “should I wait up?”

Wayne stopped in his tracks, talking around a smirk hiding a laugh, “don’t get smart with me.”

They both share a glance and laugh softly, and Eddie still has a smile even after the rumble of Wayne’s pickup gets carried away in the wind.

He locked up, pulling the vinyl shades and unhooking the curtains, pitching the trailer into darkness right as the rain pelted the window panes.

Wayne must have made his bed when he was in the cemetery. A small radio was perched on a nightstand and after slipping into starched pajama pants, from the fancy dresser, Eddie fiddled with the knob until the faint guitar sounds filled the room.

Thunder grumbled in the distance, but what he heard next was repetitive, growing louder. Shit, maybe Wayne didn’t have a house key.

“Ya know,” he says, walking to through the kitchen to the front door, “you tel me not to wait up but then you bang on the door because you don’t have keys? C’mon!”

The door swings open with a final gust of wind. Mud sloshed on his feet, Rain splattered his face. But that was not a concern.

A beautiful face, covered in Earth. Eyes he hadn’t seen outside of a mirror in months. You wore the same thing he last saw you in, same tattered wear that his Hellfire shirt had, but it somehow looked soft.

“I promised you forever.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #ziggy writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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itshype · 1 year

Text

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #mine #notfic #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #dan phantom #dark danny phantom #tucker foley #jazz fenton #justice league #batman #bruce wayne

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froggoon · 2 months

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one ) WC: 1,791

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.

Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.

Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.

“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”

Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.

At this time a portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was like Deja Vu when Five came back. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, had pushed the woman through the portal.

A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.

The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger of the situation. They were used to people going after them, so why would this time be different.

You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.

“Five?” you questioned.

Everyone turned to look at Five.

Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”

“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.

The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”

“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”

“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.

“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.

“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.

“To him.” She looked back at Five.

“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, thus me joining his chaotic family.”

“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.

“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.

Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth. And to make things better you had no idea where to start.

“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."

"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surerly he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know Daisy, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ. Anyway, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.

"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."

You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library come on." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚

Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

#five x reader #five hargreaves #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #aidan gallagher #five #five hargreeves x you #five x y/n #five hargreeves x reader #tua #tua x reader #tua fanfic #tua five #five x you #number five #five hagreeves x y/n

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btskitten7 · 1 month

Text

My Cam Girl

Ship: Idol!Jungkook x Cam girl!Y/n

au/genre: sex cam worker au

rating: M

wc: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: Masturbation, mutual masturbation, sex talk. Vivid wet dreams. Breeding kink.

summary: The members have an odd obsession with you.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast

Jungkook wasn’t new to this type of thing. He had his fair share of experiences with cam girls and porn sites. He wasn’t addicted by any means, his schedule did not allow him the time to. But every once in a while, he would dibble and dab.

Lately, his hyungs have been occupied. Their eyes were glued to their phone screens as if their lives depended on it. It took what felt like hours to regain their attention again. Jungkook wondered what had their attention so being the curious man he is, he asked.

“Hyung,” Jungkook walked over to Hoseok and Namjoon occupied with whatever was placed on his screen.

“Yeah?” they said in unison as they couldn’t even bother to look at him.

“What are you looking at? You guys have been sitting here for almost an hour. We’re supposed to practice now. “ He asked.

“We are looking at this cam girl Yoongi came across,” Namjoon said looking up at Jungkook briefly before looking back at Hoseok’s phone.

“She’s so beautiful and adventurous. She’ll try anything for the right price” Hoseok said enjoying his piping hot noodles and showing his younger brothers a sexy picture of you. “She is one of the most beautiful women known to mankind. It’s a shame she’s in this type of business though. She’d probably make someone pleased.” Joon said, grabbing the phone and looking at your features.

“I was on Twitter and she popped on my timeline. I did some research and found her website” Yoongi said as he walked over, taking Hoseok’s phone from Joon to look at the photo. “Give it to me,” Jungkook asked.

Jungkook was interested. You were beautiful. He was mesmerized by your body. Your curves were like no other. He wanted to check out your content. Yoongi handed Hoseok his phone back and sent Jungkook your socials.

That night he spent a few hours just looking at your content.

Of course, he watched some of your mature content but he also saw a few vlogs, and lifestyle like videos.

He fell in love with your personality.

You were sweet and bubbly. You enjoyed painting, cooking, and decorating.

He enjoyed the vlogs a lot more than your spicy content, so he found himself looking at your vlogs more often.

Jungkook noticed that much of your wholesome content didn’t have as much attention as your other content. It kind of made him sad. He thought back to what Namjoon said.

You would make someone very happy.

Physically, mentally, and sexually.

~~~~~~~~

As the weeks went on, you became the topic of many discussions. Jungkook engaged with them but he also slowly became disgusted by the way they thought of you.

The way HE thought of you.

There was no question. You were amazing at what you did.

Your sex appeal was out of this world. Even with your wholesome content, you still had Jungkook’s mind running wild.

Whenever you posted or went live everyone darted to their room, where they stayed for hours at a time.

And he was no better.

He wanted to indulge but a part of him couldn’t. Most of the time he would just avoid it.

But just like his hyungs, he was drawn in by you.

You weren’t over the top or too animated.

You didn’t make unnecessary noises or even say corny shit.

You were able to pull your viewer in. At least you were able to pull Jungkook in.

It felt really like he was truly the one in there with you. A few moments more of clicking around he heard a cute little chime.

The chime indicated that he had gotten a new message from you. His eyes widened and he clicked the icon that flashed the message.

“Ah, that must be new” he mumbled to himself.

He’s been on your website for a few weeks and has never noticed the message feature.

“Welcome love, I’m (….) what’s your name or what would you like to be called?” He read. He frowned and looked at his pre-registered user.

“TheCockMaster3000” he questioned. He felt so embarrassed, that he quickly typed a response.

“I didn’t come up with that name... I’m sorry” The three dots appeared letting him know you were responding.

“I kinda figured sometimes the name generator generates horrible users”

“But I mean if you want me to call you thecockmaster I have no issues ” you typed sarcastically.

Jungkook chuckled to himself replying back

“no way, please don’t do that. Just call me JK” He said relaxing a little bit before hitting send.

“JK? I like it. It’s mysterious, but I feel I’ve heard that before.” You responded.

Jungkook’s body started to heat up. It was a big risk to his career if the wrong person found out who he was. He didn’t want to end up with a scandal.

“You probably have, but trust me, I’m not him.”

“Okay! No biggie. Now JK, thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy ❤️” you said before getting up to finish getting ready.

The way you go live is simple, you go live but you turn off all live comments, they can only respond and tip you anonymously. Only you know who’s saying what.

No judgment. No shaming.

As you embraced the theme of tonight's ASMR vibe, you yearned to captivate your viewers with a touch of sensory play. You desired to be their canvas, a vessel for their imaginative needs. With a radiant smile, you turned on the camera, ready to embark on a sensory journey.

“Hello, my loves. How are you? It’s been awhile hasn’t it?”

In a hushed whisper, you sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. Your voice was probably the most favoirte thing of Jungkook’s. You could tell him you hated him and wanted to take him out and he’d still fall in love with you.

“Tonight, we’re going to use our imagination. I’m going to help you imagine your personal, alone time with me, tonight you’re going to imagine me any way you want to. Is that alright?”

Jungkook’s finger typed away a quick

response. “That’ll be great” he sent. Maybe that was too needy. He thought to himself but when you saw “TheCockMaster3000” you damn near busted out laughing.

"Alright, I'd like you to gradually close your eyes and let go of any worries from today, yesterday, or tomorrow. In this moment, imagine that it's just you and me. You can share with me all the troubles you've encountered during the day as I gently and firmly rub your shoulders. My hands will move softly up and down your back, helping to relieve the stress and tension you've accumulated."

Jungkook’s eyes were closed and his mind slowly drifted away to that very moment.

He began to feel hands, pressing against his shoulders, massaging them deeply. He groaned softly and looked behind him and there you were, as beautiful as can be. You were behind him in a gorgeous tub

Looking over a breathtaking view. His eyes were literally playing tricks on him but it was feeling amazing. He turned to you. “Is this real?” He asked looking over your features slowly, you giggled and sat on his lap slowly feeding him a strawberry that was dipped in Champagne

“As real as you want it to be” you slowly leaned down and kissed his pouted lips tasting the mixture of strawberries and liquor on his tongue.

He deepened the kiss, no longer thinking that this was just a dream, he wrapped his arms around your waist slowly kissing down your neck.

Soft moans left your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t contain himself, he allowed you to sink onto his member, letting out a strong deep groan. Your lips connected again as your hips rotated and bounced on him, causing the water to splash onto the floor.

It all happened very fast but he accepted it fully.

Jungkook’s breathing picked up as he now is imagining you fucking him the very first-time “meeting” you.

“F-fuck baby,” you said biting your bottom lip as he now thrust in your deeply between the sheets of the beautiful room he had imagined solely off of your words.

“F-Fuck b-baby, i-im g-gonna c-cum! Fuck-” He hisses laying his whole body onto yours and pushing his member upwards into your drippy core. “F-fuck then cum baby, cum in me, make me full love” you moaned softly in his ear. Exactly how you were talking to your viewers.

As soon as Kook felt himself about to cum he snapped himself out of his daydream and his eyes popped open, meeting yours.

“Open your eyes, my love”

You smiled brightly at the camera like you were waiting for him to wake up…

“How was it? Please I wanna know”

Kook slowly looked down at his now cum-stained shorts cursing himself, wondering how the hell you managed to get him like that, through a laptop…

~~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks, Jungkook was still in shock. He could not believe you had him like that without being there. There’s no way.

Sure he’s watched plenty of ‘videos’ before but he was never able to purely imagine something so vivid and real like that.

Longing for a reprise, he yearns to delve even deeper into the realms of imagination evoked by your words. The desire to relive this experience consumes him.

“She’ll do anything for the right price” He repeated Hobi’s words to himself logging in and typing up a message to send you.

“Um... hey, can I send in a request?” He asked hitting send, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. You felt your phone chime followed by a buzz. You quickly read the message. “Of course, what’s up?”

He felt a tad bit relaxed but still weird about it. “can you do what you did last week, tonight? I really enjoyed it. I hope I don’t sound like a crazy pervert..I’ll pay whatever you want ” he hit send tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair waiting for a response.

“I wasn’t planning on going live tonight sweetheart...but I’ll do it just for you since you’re new 💞” that made his heart drop, ‘duh she’s a real person of course she wouldn’t want to always be on live in a way she’s just like you, dumbass’ he thought quickly typing

“fuck, no no no I’m so sorry, please don’t. I’m sorry I should have considered the fact that you may be tired or busy, either way I have no rights to demand your time. Whenever you would like to is fine with me” seeing that made you frown a little.

“No sweetheart it’s okay, I have to provide the service you paid for💞🥺”

Now he felt worse, like he was being too demanding. “Idc, If you need time for yourself take it. I work crazy schedules too so a mental break is always needed. I can wait. Please rest. I can wait. I promise” he typed.

That made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you... so much. You’re the only one that’s ever said that to me. Especially when making a request.. thank you 🥺” you replied.

He felt bad but he didn’t want to force you to speak more on it.

“Really? You need your rest.. you’re a real person that has real feelings and real problems if you need a break, we as your customers need to respect that. Your headspace is important” he typed back. You paused and smiled.

You could cry right now.

It’s a shame how the bare minimum makes you feel so validated but that’s what it’s like in this business.

“Thank you.. thank you.. I really needed to hear that.” You paused and typed again. “How about, we do a private live? You can keep your camera off, I’ll just guide you just like last time.”

You typed back. Kookies eyes widen as he ran to his door and closed it and came back. “Are you sure? Please don’t force yourself” he said. “No no no it’s okay, I’m just talking 💕” you smiled and hit send.

He quick looked around his room to make sure everything was clean. Then he started messing with his hair. “Okay then... I’m ready” within minutes you had requested a private video chat.

He took another quick look before answering the call.

Your eyes widen at the beautiful human in front of you followed by a small chuckle.

“Wow, Kookie, you’re adorable and you look very nice, I didn’t know we were dressing up. And for the record, you are exactly the JK I was thinking of.” you smiled softly adjusting yourself on your bed. You had your hair in a messy bun and a big black Tshirt on that fell off your shoulder revealing your soft skin.

“I-I just...wow”

Jungkook was stuck at how beautiful you were, you had makeup on and a cute tight dress on last time, your hair was done and your lips was glossed. You were beautiful then but seeing you without makeup, hair in its natural wild state,

You were absolutely gorgeous.

“U-uh yeah-” he cleared his throat “I’m sorry about that. I-I”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m not here to judge you. I’m probably the last person that can cast judgment.” You snorted causing Jungkook to relax and chuckle.

“How about we not judge each other?” He smiled and you nodded returning a smile of your own.

“Deal”

“Are you ready to begin?” You smiled lowering your voice cooing softly. The same tingling sensation came as you slowly started to directed him again.

“Yes, pretty” Jungkook whispered sending that same tingling sensation throughout your body.

You loved being called different pet names. Pretty was your all-time favorite.

“Jungkook, close your eyes and surrender to the present moment. Let go of all the worries that weigh upon your mind today, and don’t burden yourself with the uncertainties of tomorrow. I want you to immerse yourself completely in the sound of my voice and connect with your innermost desires. Is your mind clear and free, my love?” You whispered softly, watching as a sense of calm enveloped him.

Kook carefully opened his eyes to see where his mind has taken him today.

In a beautiful modern palace everything was aesthetically pleasing to his eye. He wondered why he was here this time and why you weren’t, until The sound of splashing water and joyous giggles caught his attention.

Surrounded by aesthetics and beauty in the modern palace, he was taken back. You swam to the edge where he was and did a “come here” with your finger inviting him to join you in the water.. Disregarding his clothes, he eagerly moved towards you, embracing the refreshing embrace of the water.

Greeting him with open arms, you pulled him in and kissed him deeply. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your naked body and pulled you close to his now-naked body.

The skin to skin contact drove him wild and it didn’t help that you were playing with his member underneath the water latching your lips underneath his jaw line.

Your hands went to work, touching every part of Jungkook that was available to you, you stroked his shaft, massaged his thighs and balls, listening to how him calling out to you,

“P-pretty…please.” he moaned wanting to gain control but couldn’t, the hold you had over him was insane.

No woman has ever had this strong of a hold over Jungkook. He was always in control. This was a unique change.

And he liked it.

“What is it baby, you want me to stop?” You purred in his ear listening to his moans and groans.

“Fuck. Let me fuck you, I want to fuck you please” he begged, which shocked him, cause he never does that.

Never.

The water slapped against your pussy as he had you bent over the wall of the pool, sending deep and long strokes to your core. Your moans were getting loud and so was his. “FUCK, baby faster faster” you moaned clenching around his hardened member.

Feeling that familiar feeling

Jungkook eyes shot open, taken back at how you were getting off to him groaning and stroking his member. “Don’t stop baby, you can finish. It’s okay honey” you said looking into his red face...

“I-I gotta go. T-thank you, pretty,” he said hanging up before you could even reply.

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts angst #bts jhope #bts smut #bts namjoon #bts smut drabble #bangtanwhq

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